#but at the same time it’s really funny to imagine he gets stuck with like one yellow on the green side ‘n a side that’s half red half white

[l3viat8an]

Stuck somewhere between Mammon can solve a rubik’s cube in like 30 seconds or Mammon can’t solve a rubik’s cube to save his life.

[sysig]

Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)

[bi-writes]

I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

[reignpage]

how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?

i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭

like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤

lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old

own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go

Gojo:

says a cringy line

I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like

"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."

reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?

gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.

he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.

he'll think about it once in a while and cringe

but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.

"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"

gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him

then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing

Geto:

trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks

probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair

takes a breather and then starts back up again

punishes you during sex

will crack a smile if you do

"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."

will make sure that never happens again

might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)

Choso:

might get too subby lol

like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears

idk how to write mommy kinks lol

and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that

he'll get very shy and embarrassed

might even start crying, trying to run away

you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex

late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man

but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while

just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol

Toji:

trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him

he knocks himself out

you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to

when he does and he remembers what happens

bro is in denial

no he didn't slip

no he didn't overestimate himself

no it didn't hurt

no he's not embarrassed stop asking him

gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath

comes back calmer

neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together

once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing

he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips

"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"

next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet

makes you beg for him to fuck you normally

he'll consider it

Nanami:

drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional

"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"

he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby

you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten

might vomit on you a little

wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase

"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."

has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband

will spoil you for the rest of the week

or anytime he remembers

might actually drink less because of it lol

Sukuna:

he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing

pray he never does

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

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

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

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

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

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

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

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

If only you knew. 

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

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

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

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…I just-”

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

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

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

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

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

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” he questions.

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

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

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

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

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

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

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

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

R: She’s five, genius

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

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

“What’s inside? I thought-”

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

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way he says it you believe him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guess that God was on your side today. 

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

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

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

౨ৎ

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

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

Princess: please rafey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

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

“No, I did, I swear-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes pass by.

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

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

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

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

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

౨ৎ

[linoxpudding]

Matchmaking Mission- Kim Seungmin

summary: your friends had enough seeing you and seungmin being oblivious pabos— tired of the back-and-forth, they take matters into their own hands, setting up a series of schemes to finally get you two to admit what’s been obvious all along

pairing: seungmin x reader, bsf!jeongin x reader

genre: fluff, drama, friends-to-lovers

fic type: written + text

a/n: had so much fun writing this request, included a bit of forced proximity trope too

Masterlist

~°~

Seungmin prided himself on being a composed person. He didn’t get overly emotional, he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, and he certainly didn’t get jealous.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Until you walked in.

At first, you were just Jeongin’s friend. An old classmate, someone from his past who had somehow found a way into their present. It was easy to ignore you at first. But then you kept showing up. And then you started talking to him. And that’s when it became a problem.

Because you were funny. And smart. And kind. And you made fun of him in a way that made his stomach feel weird.

And then, worst of all, you started sitting next to him.

That’s when he knew he was in trouble.

The Lovebirds Texts

The Bestie Bickerings

The Matchmaking GC

Operation 1: Denial and the Jealousy That Definitely Didn’t Exist

“Y/N, have you ever considered how muscular Changbin is?”

Seungmin’s head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash.

Felix, who had casually thrown out the question, smirked as if he had planned this.

Completely oblivious to the brewing storm beside you, you tilted your head. “I mean, yeah? It’s kind of impossible not to notice.”

Seungmin felt his jaw clench.

“Oh, yeah,” Han chimed in, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Changbin has insane arm muscles. I bet you would feel so safe if he carried you, right Y/N?”

You laughed, playfully nudging Changbin. “Guess I’ll have to test that theory.”

Seungmin nearly scoffed out loud. What kind of dumb theory was that? What, was Changbin a chair now?

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to leave the room. Or flip a table. Either one.

Instead, he opted for silence.

Hyunjin obviously noticed Seungmin’s weird behaviour and turned to him with a teasing grin. “What, bro? You look grumpy.”

Seungmin’s eye twitched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin asked.

“Positive.” Seungmin grumpily replied.

“You look like you want to throw something.” Chan pointed out.

“Just thinking about how dumb you all sound, especially Y/N.” Seungmin shrugged.

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he replied.

The others were watching with thinly veiled amusement, Felix whispering something to Jeongin, who immediately burst into laughter.

“Seungmin, are you jealous?” Minho smirked.

The room fell silent.

Seungmin’s ears burned. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Changbin pressed.

“Absolutely.”

Jeongin smirked. “Then you wouldn’t mind if Y/N sat on Changbin’s lap, right?”

Changbin choked.

Seungmin looked ready to set the entire apartment on fire. “What kind of nonsense—”

“You just said you weren’t jealous.” Jeongin said.

“I’m not. I just think you’re making Y/N uncomfortable.”

You protested, "No, I'm not!"

Han snickered. “Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Seungmin glared at him. “Shut up.”

You just leaned back, amused. Is he really jealous? You felt sudden goosebumps. But you quickly shoved that thought out of your mind. You were just imagining things. Seungmin? Jealous? Over you? No way.

Beside you Jeongin grinned, whipping out his phone and texting in the group, "Step one of the plan is working. Time for phase two."

Operation 2: Forced Proximity

Over the next few days, you and Seungmin mysteriously found yourselves seated next to each other at every possible opportunity.

Lunch? Next to each other.

Movie night? Stuck on the same couch.

Car ride? Squished together in the backseat.

“Why do I keep ending up next to you?” You frowned, staring at the now very cozy seating arrangement.

“No clue,” Seungmin mumbled, trying not to focus on how close you were.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys sat across from you both, giving each other secret thumbs-ups.

“Okay, maybe if they get physically closer, they’ll realize something,” Jeongin whispered.

Han grinned. “Should we ‘accidentally’ trap them somewhere next?”

“Dude. That’s genius.”

Operation 3: The Classic ‘Oops, You’re Locked In’ Trick

You frowned as you tugged at the balcony door. “Why is it locked?”

Seungmin groaned. “I swear, if this is them again…”

“Probably,” You muttered. “Can’t they not annoy us for one minute?”

Seungmin let out an exasperated sigh. “Apparently not.”

After a few more attempts to open the door, you gave up. “Great. Locked in here.”

Seungmin rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor, then up at the sky, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I guess... this isn’t too bad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Seungmin hesitated, his voice soft. “Well... it's peaceful out here.”

You smiled, noticing the shy look in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s actually kinda nice.”

Seungmin turned his gaze away, trying to hide the soft blush creeping on his face.

Just as the moment lingered, Minho’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Ouch! You stepped on my foot, you idiot!”

You and Seungmin froze, exchanging an exasperated glance before laughing.

“You know, maybe they should lock us in here more often,” You joked, and Seungmin chuckled, feeling the warmth in his chest grow.

But still, neither of you acknowledged the growing feelings between you both—at least, not yet.

Before Seungmin could speak again, the door suddenly exploded open with a loud crash, as if a small stampede had broken it down.

Minho, along with the rest of the boys, stood on the other side, all of them pushing and shoving as they tried to listen to your conversation...accidentally broke the door.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!" Changbin yelled, holding his hands up as the door swung wide open.

Seungmin stared at the wrecked door in disbelief. “You guys broke it down?”

You couldn't hold in your laughter. “Great job, guys. You’ve officially destroyed the door. What now?”

Minho quickly said, “You’re welcome for getting you two out of there. We basically saved your lives.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you guys...”

You, still laughing, added, “At least I got some peace and quiet for a bit before you wrecked it. Nice try, though.”

As the boys all started blaming each other, Seungmin and you exchanged a look—and shared laughter.

Mission: Failed.

Operation 4: Pretend One of Them Is Interested in Y/N

“Alright,” Chan sighed, rubbing his forehead. “We need another new plan.”

The rest of the boys nodded solemnly.

It had been weeks. Weeks of painfully obvious flirting, of stolen glances, of lingering touches.

And yet?

Nothing.

Not one confession. Not even progress.

They were sick of it.

“They need a push,” Felix declared.

“They need a shove,” Minho corrected.

Han nodded. “We have to make them more jealous.”

“They already are jealous,” Jeongin pointed out. “Seungmin just refuses to acknowledge it.”

Hyunjin smirked. “Then let’s force him to.”

They all finalised a plan and went to the living room. Felix was chosen as the 'fake-love-interest'. He went to sit beside you while you were munching on a peanut butter sandwich.

“I think Felix has a crush on Y/N,” Jeongin said sitting beside Seungmin on the couch.

Seungmin, who was casually scrolling on his phone, froze.

“…What.”

“Yeah,” Jeongin continued. “They’ve been texting a lot. He even told me Y/N looked extra pretty today, like look at them.”

Seungmin felt his eye twitch. He looked over the dining area and—yep. Felix was leaning in just a little too close to you.

“Are you serious?” Seungmin scoffed. “Felix is just nice with everyone.”

“But what if he actually likes Y/N?” Hyunjin smirked joining them.

Seungmin slammed his phone down.

“Then I’ll—” He stopped himself.

The group silently leaned in.

“…You’ll what?” Changbin asked, grinning.

“…Nothing,” Seungmin muttered. “Because it’s none of my business.”

You, still oblivious, walked over. “What are you guys talking about?”

Jeongin smirked. “Oh, nothing. Just Seungmin—”

Seungmin kicked his shin. “Shut up.”

Operation 5: The Breaking Point & The Confession

The group finally gave up when they realized Seungmin was never going to confess first.

So naturally, you snapped first.

It was late. Everyone was hanging out, and once again, Seungmin was sitting next to you, being his usual sarcastic, annoying self.

“You really love bothering me, huh?” You muttered.

Seungmin smirked. “It’s my favorite hobby.”

And suddenly, you had enough.

“Okay, listen to me, I can't take this any longer,” you blurted out, standing up. “I have to tell you something."

“What's wrong?” Seungmin looked confused.

You let out a nervous chuckle, “you know what, forget it.”

“No, tell me.”

“Let it go.”

“You know I won't, so just spill it already—”

“I LIKE YOU, I like you, alright? Like a lot. And I swear to god, if you make a joke right now, I will throw you out the window.”

Silence.

The room was dead silent.

Seungmin just stared.

“…You—”

“Yes,” You huffed. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine, I’ll just—”

Seungmin suddenly grabbed your wrist.

“…Who said I didn’t feel the same?” His voice was softer now.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I thought you knew,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… didn’t think you’d actually like me back.”

The room collectively exploded.

“OH MY GOD FINALLY.”

“IT TOOK FIVE OPERATIONS.”

Jeongin fake wiped a tear. “Our hard work… it paid off.”

Hyunjin clapped dramatically. “And that, my friends, is a successful matchmaking mission.”

Seungmin groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

You just smiled, feeling your heart race as Seungmin’s hand lingered in yours.

“You two better be happy now!” Changbin teased, laughing. “Operation success!”

Seungmin glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as the group continued to celebrate their victory. The tension that had been building between you both for so long was finally gone, replaced with a quiet but undeniable warmth.

You smiled at the group, but Seungmin wasn’t done yet. Without missing a beat, he took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers in a smooth, almost secretive motion. He then leaned in, voice low but sincere. “Let’s get out of here.”

Before the others could react, Seungmin gently pulled you away from the group, heading towards his room with you in tow. His grip on your hand was firm, yet gentle, as if he was afraid of letting go even for a second. You felt giddy.

The boys, still celebrating, watched them leave in silence, eyes wide in surprise. “Did… they just…” Hyunjin started, his voice a little stunned.

“I guess they did,” Minho said, shaking his head with a smirk. “Mission accomplished, I guess.”

Meanwhile, Seungmin and you found yourselves alone in his room, the door clicking shut behind you. The noise of the celebration faded away as Seungmin turned to face you, a small but warm smile playing on his lips.

You looked at him, heart racing in your chest, a shy smile forming on your face. “So, this is happening, huh?”

Seungmin’s smile widened as he stepped closer, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “Yeah, it’s happening.” He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, “Finally.”

You met him halfway through and pressed your lips in a loving, sweet kiss filled with the unspoken connection that had been growing between you two for so long.

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

Taglist:

@4ng3l-ch1ld @dolphin-scream-s (added a bit proximity trope here, will be posting for others soon!)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Meeting your ex jjk boyfriend again after your breakup

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,1 k

Warnings: cheating in gojo's part, overwhelming emotions in every part lol

Well that escalated quickly. If you want a part two with Geto, Sukuna, Chose and/or someone else let me know 🤍

Gojo Satoru

You hate to be here. Just the thought of seeing his face again makes your guts turn. When was the last time you encountered each other?

When he was with her.

“Don’t panic, I’m here with you. Remember?”, Utahime mutters into your ear while walking up those cursed steps towards jujutsu high.

“I thought I’d never have to see that jerk’s face again…”

“Well, not when you’re the second strongest. Don’t let that idiot ruin your mood.”

You sign to yourself, gaze drifting over your beloved students.

When you found out your long-term boyfriend Gojo Satoru cheated on you with none other than Mei Mei, you dropped out of Tokyo Jujutsu High immediately. It was Utahime who took you under her wing and made you the teacher you are today – at Kyoto High.

Those past two years, you really managed to stay away from him. After changing your phone number countless times, after searching day and night for a place to live that he won’t find so easily, you finally lived in peace. Far away from the pain he caused, well distracted from your still messed-up feelings.

But now you’re back. And you will be forced to meet that prick.

“There they come”, Nobara mutters while her gaze drifts over every person that comes into frame.

“Hey, who’s that woman over there?”

“That’s (y/n), a former student here at Jujutsu High. She attended the same class as Gojo-sensei. Right now, she’s working as a teacher at Kyoto High”, Megumi explains briefly.

“Former? Why isn’t she here anymore? I’d love to borrow those boots from here. Damn, that outfit really rocks…”

“There have been some…incidents with Gojo-sensei…”

Nobara’s eyes widen in pure curiosity, her eyes scanning you up and down.

“Her, with that white-haired idiot?”

“What are my lovely students talking about?”

Megumi rolls his eyes out of instinct when the tall man comes to a stand behind them.

“Oh look, the students from Kyoto High arrives with their tea-“

His breath gets stuck in your throat when your eyes make contact with his. How long has it been since he last saw you?

You look…flawless. Your hair a little longer than in his imagination, your body well-built by the countless training hours you might have spent over there at Kyoto High.

But your cold gaze is still the same as on that fateful day that still repeats itself over and over inside his head.

Fuck.

“Look who’s there”, he jeers from afar.

You feel like vomiting all over the floor. Were you really dumb enough to think your feelings just disappeared into thin air? You force your eyes away from him and to stare at his students instead. You just need to get those few days over with. Only those couple hours and you’ll get away with not seeing him for another 2 years.

“Shut up, Gojo”, Utahime warns him next to you.

“It’s nice to see you’re still as weak as before, Utahime! I wonder if you’re still crying all the time-“

"Funny, Gojo. It's nice to see your arrogance is still compensating for your insecurities. Some things never change."

The air around you freezes when those words leave your mouth, everyone around you going silent in an instant. It’s only you and him. Him with that suddenly so hardened expression, you with eyes that spit venom his way.  

“Why don’t you save your breath for someone who cares and just leave us alone until the competition starts?”

"Touché. But if you're going to psychoanalyze me, how about we do it somewhere private? We have some catching up to do."

There it is again. That cheeky smile you know painfully well, the way he tilts his head to the side oh so playfully. Your heart wrenches, bleeds out like it did on that day you saw him.

In Mei Mei’s bedroom.

While she was naked.

“I’d rather die, asshole.”

Without gifting him another look you storm away. Towards the main building, as far away as possible without anyone being able to follow you.

Fuck, you swore to yourself you are over this shit. You shouldn’t care about him, shouldn’t even feel bothered by looking at him anymore. Only one glance at him and you’re completely losing it? You thought you were better than this, stronger than you were two years ago. But apparently, nothing changed. You’re still crying over someone who betrayed you in the nastiest way possible.

A gentle grasp on your wrist rips you out of your nightmares and catapults you in an even worse one.

“Let go of me”, you hiss through gritted teeth when his bright blue eyes meet yours.

"I definitely won’t make that mistake again. You can run all you want, but you know we need to talk. You can’t keep avoiding this... or me.”

You yank your wrist away with full force when something inside you snaps.

"Talk? About what, Gojo? How you always think you can just waltz back into my life whenever it suits you? I’m done with your games."

„Stop calling me Gojo like we’re strangers. Just hear me out-“

"Strangers? That’s what we are now, Gojo. Whatever we had, it’s over. You don’t get to decide when I listen to you."

Fuck, you hate the way tears start to burn in your eyes, how his sheer presence shakes you right to your core. Truth is, you never stopped loving him. Not even when he abused your trust like he did, not even when you caught him with Mei Mei that day. Until now, your stupid heart didn’t get the message, still clings onto him for dear life.

And it hurts like hell.

Gojo takes a deep breath in and takes a step towards you.

"Please, just listen. That night - it wasn’t what you think. I was trying to protect you, but I messed up by keeping you in the dark. I would never betray you like that. You have to believe me."

"Protect me? I saw you in Mei Mei’s room. If that wasn’t what it looked like, then explain why you were there. Don’t expect me to just forget what I saw and the way it made me feel. As if your fucking words mean everything!"

You lose it completely, your composure, those rough years of keeping you together. In that second, you lose yourself.

“That night she called me because she told me about a special grade curse that was hunting after you. I entered her room just seconds before you stumbled in. If I had known this, that she only tries to entertain herself with spreading that fucking misunderstanding between us, I would have never-“

“Have you any idea how I felt that day? You…You were my life, Satoru! I would have died for you! And you didn’t even care enough to follow me!”, you now cry out seething with emotion

“I thought I was doing the right thing!”, he shouts so roughly that you flinch.  

“I thought you needed space, that we’ll talk things out when you didn’t respond countless times. I never thought…that you’d actually believe I was cheating on you! You meant everything to me too, and the thought of losing you, of not even knowing where you were, has been killing me. I’m so sorry for not chasing after you. Until this day, there’s nothing I regret more than giving you space in that fucking moment, I should have fought harder to make things right. Fuck, I missed you every single day since you were gone and it kills me, it fucking kills me I can’t call you mine anymore!”

Are those…tears glistening in his eyes. Is that really Gojo Satoru, standing in front of you, crying?

“Seeing you like this… I don’t know if it makes things better or just harder. Maybe you’re genuinely sorry, but the pain you caused me is real. It’s not something that can be fixed with words or tears alone…”

“Just one kiss.”

He draws closer, the heat of his body paired with his signature perfume now so close that you feel like fainting for a second.

“Give me one kiss and I’ll leave you alone.”

“A kiss?”, you breathe out.

His lips haunted you in your dreams frequently, how they felt pressed against yours and comforted you through everything. You hated how your mind always remembered you of what you’ve lost.

Those kissable lips, that mouth that never failed to make you smile.

But now…a kiss?

"Just one kiss, to remember what we had, to see if there’s still something between us. If it doesn’t change anything, I’ll walk away and give you all the space you need. But if there’s even a spark left… I need to know."

Your mind races as you consider his request with a wave of feelings rushing over you like a tsunami. Memories of your shared moments flood back, the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his touch, and the sweetness of his kisses that used to light up your whole fucking world. But what if he hurts you again? What if all those words are nothing but a filthy little lie to play with you all over?

Your heart pounds while you close your eyes briefly, trying to push through the pain and the intensity of the situation. The idea of that one kiss, despite everything, pulls at your heartstrings. That moment of vulnerability and a chance to confront what’s been haunting her dreams, close enough to touch and feel...

Finally, you open your eyes and nod slowly, your voice barely a whisper.

"One kiss."

Gojo’s eyes soften with a mix of relief and hope as he leans in, his breath warm against your oversensitive and touch-starved skin. His lips meet yours with a gentle, hesitant touch. A bittersweet mixture of longing, regret, and a lingering affection that speaks of all both of you once shared, the feelings that still rise from the ashes between both of you – feelings that never really disappeared. Truth is, you never really stopped loving Gojo Satoru. Even if he shattered your heart into thousands of pieces, even if your heart still aches, you can’t escape his gravity.

Out of instinct, you wrap your longing arms around his neck like you always did, press your body even closer against his. Only that one touch, that one kiss in order to feel that he lied.

But instead, the taste his falling tears on your tongue, feel his desperate hands on your waist. Did…Gojo Satoru miss you as well?

As your lips part, a tear slips down both of your cheeks while heavy breathing fills the cramped room between you.

"From the moment you left, I’ve been lost without you. I thought I could move on, but every day without you has been unbearable. I missed you more than I ever thought possible. I’ve been living in a world where everything reminds me of what we had and what I threw away by not following you that night. I never stopped loving you, not for a single fucking day.

I know I’ve made mistakes and I’ve hurt you in ways I can never fully make up for. But standing here now, feeling your arms around me and knowing that you still care... it’s more than I deserve. I love you, and I’ve always loved you. If there’s any chance for us to rebuild what we had, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I need you to know that my feelings for you have never faded, and they never will.”

You look at him with a mix of longing and hope, your eyes silently asking for what you’re yearning for.

"One more kiss," you whisper,

"just to see if it’s real.”

Toji Fushiguro

Your eyes are focus on the glittery liquid that swirls around in your glass, too focused on the play of color to even listen to that jerk opposite of you.

“(y/n), are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, go on”, you mutter through your hand without even looking up.

To be honest, your dating life has been a mess since that one guy. Dates each and every night, nameless men who cling onto your rock bottom for dear life. Getting showered by meaningless compliment that are supposed to drag you into their beds, the bitter taste of gammahydroxybutyricacid on a regular basis.

Just like now. Liquid ecstasy.

You raise your eyebrows, allow yourself a glimpse at that muscular guy with a face that looks like out of every plastic surgeons dream and that fake rolex around his wrist. As if you’d be dumb enough to actually swallow that shit. But on the other hand, you might as well wait until he spent all his money for you in that way too expensive restaurant before leaving him standing in the rain.

“You have to be the prettiest woman I’ve even seen”, he jeers while grabbing your hand.

You force down that wave of puke that threatens to take you over and put on the sweetest smile you have to offer.

What a loser, honestly. Not even able to read a woman properly.

But none of the men you’ve met since him were.

“Aren’t you thirsty? Don’t you like your drink?”

Yeah, like you’re dumb enough to drink that shit.

“I’d actually like to eat something before drinking. Otherwise, I’m drunk immediately”, you give back oh so innocently.

He lets out a disgusting laughter, his hungry eyes almost pilling you out of your skintight dress. Well, that’s what you get for going on a date with someone who calls himself selfmade CEO of something that has to be another lousy pyramid scheme.

Let’s get this over with.

Your eyes dart around the room aimlessly in order to find a way to escape later on. Unfortunately, the toilets don’t provide a window and as it seems, you won’t be able to escape that main hall. Screw those fancy restaurants and their high alert.

It’s a feeling that crawls up your spine so suddenly that your head yanks to the right out of instinct.

Cold eyes. That scar on the corner of his mouth that flinches when he catches you staring at him.

So familiar cold eyes that you feel like fainting for a second.

It can’t be him, it’s impossible that it’s him-

“Toji?”, you breathe out.

You haven’t seen him since that day.

Since the two of you broke up.

You swore to yourself to never see that man again, moved to Tokyo on order to get lost in the crowd, went on countless dates to fuck his face out of your mind.

But as soon as your eyes land on him, your guts twist just like they did before, a wave of fright washing over your usual so broad back.

“I need to go”, you mutter, not even caring about that douchebag on the other side of the table anymore.

You need to get out of here, need to hide in some lonely corner, need to move to another city. Or another country? It seems like he’ll always find you, no matter where you go.

The cold air of the night hits your face like a wall as you stumble out of the restaurant. Where are you supposed to go? Aimlessly, you haste through the next alley, eyes darting behind you as if you’re haunted.

That toxic fucker, that crazy man who apparently didn’t accept your breakup at all. Toji is no one to be messed with, a maniac when it comes to his toys.

And you are one of those toys. Well, you hope you were.

“Think you can escape me like that?”

The next second, you find yourself pinned against a wall with no way out.

“Let go of me, you freak”, you press out, not even daring to look up at him.

Fuck, you’re absolutely screwed. There’s no way you’ll get out of here like you did last time.

“Is that how you greet the love of your life, huh?”

He grabs your cheek firmly and forces your head towards his.

There they are, those dangerous eyes. Up close, in their full glory.

You feel like puking.

“I don’t love you anymore. You treated me like shit.”

That’s what you told yourself over and over again, literally tattooed on your heart. You can’t love a guy like him, he’ll never give you what you need and want.

“So you’re telling me that guy who wanted to fuck after your blackout is better? Can’t tell me you didn’t notice that loser put something in your drink.”

“It’s none of your business”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Everything that has to do with you is my business, babe. You did a good job hiding from me for a few months. But you can’t escape me”, he mutters against your ear.

His hot breath against your naked and oversensitive skin almost sends you over the edge, forces that knot inside your stomach to start pulsating all over again.

That fucker who knows your body so well. That asshole who plays with your feeling all over again.

“We’ve broke up”, you remind him with unsteady gaze.

“So you have no feelings for me? Hate me? Just because I killed that guy-“

“You killed so many people that I lost count. I can’t do this!”, you blurt out.

“But do you love me?”

Your heart almost pounds out of your chest, sweat now covering your forehead only by looking at him. So many nights, you’ve drank enough to forget your own name.

But you never forgot his.

“Doesn’t matter…”

“So you do.”

Before you’re even able to protest, he lifts you up and cages you against the wall. And your lousy traitor of a body? Wraps your legs around his waist as if none of this ever happened.

“I’ll make it up to you, princess”, he mumbles into the crook of your neck, now placing gentle kisses on your bare skin.

You want to tell him to stop, want to yank your body out of his demanding grasp.

But instead, you let your head fall back and close your eyes.

Fuck, you missed this. You missed him.

“And don’t ya dare to run away from me again. You’re mine.”

Tags:

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@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

[woso-dreamzzz]

Bike

Magdalena Eriksson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first riding lesson with Magda

After that day on the ice with Sam and the others, Magda decides that if anyone is going to teach you to ride a bike, it's going to be her.

The first thing she does is make sure the stabilisers are attached properly, sitting down in the middle of the park with a screwdriver to make sure they're secure.

Then, she tightens your elbow and knee pads.

Next, she makes sure your helmet fits you properly.

Then and only then, are you allowed on your bike.

"I know how to ride, Morsa," You tell her as she shows you where the peddles are," Sam and Erin and Guro and Millie taught me."

Magda scoffs. "They didn't teach you. They took advantage of a hill. Riding a bike is all about power in your legs."

You rolls your eyes. "This is boring."

"I'm trying to teach you here!"

You move your handlebars, a disgruntled look on your face as Magda waffles on about random things that you don't really care about.

It's quite early in the morning, on a random day off where you'd rather crawl into the Big Bed and have cuddles with Momma. You think Momma must miss your cuddles because she was still asleep when Morsa got you up and out of the house.

It wasn't a long walk to the park but Morsa didn't say anything until you got there.

"Can I got yet?"

Magda sighs, breaking off mid sentence. "Yeah, alright. Let me give you a little push."

She holds the back of your bike, lightly pushing you so you can start pedalling.

You've got a lot of power in your little legs, despite having only been out on your bike once before and Magda still holds it, if only to give herself some peace of mind.

"Morsa! I'm doing it!"

"Yes, you are!"

Magda doesn't really want to let go but she can remember being a bit older than you, at her own local park in Sweden. Her father had taught her to ride.

It was an old bike, bought second-hand at a car boot sale. The chain was half broken and the pedals stuck a bit but Magda had loved that bike.

Her father had taught her, standing behind her and giving a little push. He held her bike for a bit before finally letting her go.

At the time, the lack of stabilisers hadn't bothered Magda. It had made her feel grown up but, now, as a parent herself, she can't imagine your bike not having stabilisers.

She also can't believe that her father had ever let her go.

Especially now as she rocks your body as you sob.

The first little crash had been expected, your front wheel getting caught on a bump in the road. Magda had managed to grab you by the back of the shirt before you went head over handlebars.

If anything, you thought that crash was a little funny, consumed by a round of giggles as Magda tried to calm her beating heart.

The second crash was bigger, where you'd gotten too much speed and you went through that same pit in the path and gone skittering across the path.

It was a mistake, in hindsight, to let you go out riding in your Sweden shorts because the impact of your slide has horrifically grazed your leg like some horrific version of road rash.

"Morsa, my leg!" You sob and Magda adjusts you.

There's no chance of you walking right now so Magda switches you onto her back, letting you link your hands together around her neck. Magda wheels your bike back home.

"It's okay," She says," It's alright. We're nearly home. We'll clean it off and get you some plasters."

"My bike's mean," You tell her," Don't let go next time, Morsa."

"You still want to practice?"

"Yes, Morsa," You say and Magda can imagine the eye roll going on behind her back," Because I have to learn at some point and Momma will get annoyed with having me on the back of hers forever."

Whenever you, Magda and Pernille go out for a bike ride, you get put into a little seat that's attached to the end of Pernille's. It's fun but what you really want is to be on your own bike next to them.

You sniffle though, a flare of pain going down your leg as Morsa moves.

Magda places you on the sofa as soon as you get home, grabbing the first aid kit so she can clean off your graze.

"We will wait though, right?" You ask, wincing as Magda wipes off all the dirt," Until I'm better?"

"Of course," Magda says," I think we should stay at home for a bit and we can remember where the brakes are."

You purse your lips. "I know where the brakes are, Morsa."

Magda smiles at you. "Do you? Because you really should learn to use them."

You stick your tongue out at her. "I'm telling Momma you're teasing me again!"

[gurugirl]

1. The Unicorn | nanny!yn

Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.

Summary: You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position.

A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: 18+ only, smut (fingering)

The Unicorn Masterlist

“She’s perfect, Harry.” His wife watched out of the window as you walked to your car parked in front of their house.

“I don’t know. She’s taking care of the kids every day while we’re at work. How does that make her perfect?”

“Because look at her! And she’s so sweet and I just have a sense for these things. She acts all shy and innocent but I bet she’s kinky under it all. And haven’t you seen the way she looks at you?”

He had noticed your glances. The placement of your gaze over his frame. But Harry never thought too deeply about it. Not really. Though he kind of liked that you couldn’t help from dropping your gaze to his lips and then down over his shoulders and mid-torso until every time you breezed your pupils over the natural protrusion at the front of his crotch you were suddenly quickly reminded of what you were doing and bounced your head back just the tiniest bit to correct your sight to the more appropriate height.

But just because you were cute and couldn’t help when your eyes skimmed over his cock with the quickest peek didn’t mean you were perfect to invite into the bedroom with him and his wife. He was hesitant to find a third. He knew that it was unlikely this would end well but his wife had been begging him for it.

Kit was bisexual and once she married Harry, she learned that she often missed the more feminine touches and pretty soft curves. Someone more submissive. It had been almost 8 years since she’d slept with a woman so when she offered a threesome to Harry, she thought he’d jump right at the opportunity but instead, he was worried.

“I think this is a bad idea no matter who it is, but having it be the nanny is like…” he ran a ringed-clad hand through his hair, “… the worst. What if you don’t like seeing me with another woman? Or if I hate seeing you kiss anyone else? I don’t know if I can handle this. And poor Y/n is then stuck in the middle.”

“Harry,” she turned to him and put her hand on his forearm, “You and I are solid. I trust you and you trust me. I know you can handle this. Just the same as I can. I think this will be really good for us. Probably will just make us insatiable for each other. I’m already getting so turned on just thinking about watching you with her. And just imagine it, Harry, having us both laid out, spread legs…” She smoothed a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, pressing herself close to his body, “You dip into her for a few thrusts and then pull out and—“

“Mom, can I have ice cream? Y/n said I had to wait til you and Dad were home.”

Harry and his wife laughed at the timing. They’d be returning to their conversation later.

.           .           .

You arrived bright and early Monday morning as requested. You loved nannying for the Styles. Mrs. Styles was so kind to you. She always made sure you had everything you needed and Mr. Styles was funny and easygoing. Plus the twins were a dream. You loved William and Warner as if they were your own.

“Morning, Y/n,” Mr. Styles smiled warmly at you as he opened the door. Warner walked up to you and hugged you. He was the one that liked hugs a lot.

“Morning Mr. Styles…” you laughed and patted Warner’s back, “and you too Warner.”

Mr. and Mrs. Styles left for work not long after but before they left they both asked you if you could stay after work that night. Mrs. Styles would make dinner and the three of you could have a glass of wine and chat a bit after the kids were put to bed.

Of course, you said you’d love to. Though you had kind of been looking forward to going home and watching your show, you wouldn’t mind having dinner with the Styles. The truth was you found Mr. Styles extremely attractive. He was the hottest guy you’d ever seen. He was married so he was obviously off limits but that didn’t stop your brain from short-circuiting every time you were near him.

And because of the way Mrs. Styles acted around you, almost flirty, you sort of had a crush on her too. You were interested in women but had never dated one. You’d only ever been in a couple of real relationships. You were too shy to approach people you found attractive so your pool of potential dates had been low.

So yeah, you’d accept their invitation for dinner.

.           .           .

“William made a picture today,” you rattled off a few things the boys did. The picture William drew was too cute and he even drew you in between Mr. and Mrs. Styles like you were part of the family.

He held it up proudly and Harry took it and pointed at the figure that was supposed to be you, “Who’s this, Will?”

“It’s Y/n,” he gestured to you.

Harry smiled at William and said how nice it was as he handed the paper back to him. He looked at you for a moment that felt a little warm and lingering before Mrs. Styles brought out the hot pan with food to the table.

When the table had grown quiet as everyone began to eat you wanted to remind Warner to tell his dad that he’d finally gotten the part down on the piano that Harry was teaching him.

“Warner, remember what you were supposed to tell Daddy today?”

When you looked at Harry with a smile you noticed the slightly surprised look on his face but by then it was too late. You hadn’t meant to let the word Daddy slip out like that. If you’d been thinking you’d have said “… supposed to tell your dad today?” Even the twins didn’t call Harry Daddy anymore.

And of course, Warner was already excitedly telling Harry about the part he’d learned on the piano before you could correct it. You hoped no one thought anything of it and while you’d fantasized about calling him Daddy a time or two, you really didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Darting your eyes from Harry to his wife you saw nothing from her at all as a reaction to your misspeak.

Luckily no one seemed bothered by it but you could tell Harry thought something by the surprised smile on his face.

You loved watching the boys interact with their parents. And being able to see it during dinner and then after clean up until they were in their beds with books to read quietly felt special.

Harry, his wife, and you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Mrs. Styles sat next to you and she started doing that thing where she looks at you in that way that gets your heart pounding and raises your temperature.

With her hand on your upper arm, she gushed about how much she and Harry loved you. How great of a nanny you were and how lucky they were to have found you.

Harry sat across from the couch in a leather armchair and watched you and Kit with a more solemn look on his face. He nodded at the end of his wife’s praise for you as he looked at you directly. You felt a shiver up your spine at the intensity of his eyes. But it wasn’t just that. There was something so formidable about him. Like he was governing over the moment. He was still Mr. Styles but with an edge of something uncertain. Darker.

You looked back at Mrs. Styles and smiled shyly, “Thank you. So much. I’m really happy to be working for you. And the twins are just amazing. I feel so lucky too.”

Kit’s hand smoothed down your forearm until she softly pushed her fingers through yours. She was sitting with her legs tucked under herself, feet on the couch, and knees angled toward you.

“Honey, you’re coming on too strong,” Harry chided his wife.

“No, I’m not. I’m just being friendly. Y/n is so sweet. I just…” she looked at you, “You don’t mind this do you?”

You loved the way she was looking at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say she was hitting on you. That had to be wrong, though. Her husband was right there watching you two.

“It’s fine. I know you’re just being friendly.”

Harry laughed and shook his head and spoke his wife’s name in a warning, “Kit. Are you sure you want to do this?”

You looked between the pair. A little confused about what they were talking about. You didn’t know if you’d missed some dialogue somewhere or what but you were definitely picking up a vibe between them.

“If she’s up for it then yes, I’m sure.”

“Up for what?” You questioned them both.

Harry raised his brows and looked at his wife, “I’ll let you do the honors.”

Her hand squeezed at yours gently, bringing your attention back to her. Her other hand brushed over your knee with the tip of her fingers casually, “We think you’re very sweet and pretty, Y/n.” Kit began.

You kept your eyes on hers the best you could but she’d been wearing a low-cut dress and, not unlike the times you dropped your gaze to Harry’s crotch, you couldn’t help peeking at her cleavage with the same attempted deftness.

“And we think you might be fun to…” she paused and looked at Harry, who nodded at her to go on, “Have in bed. For us to share.”

You looked down at where Mrs. Styles was grazing your kneecap with her fingertip and whispered, “To share.”

That was quite a lot. If what she was saying was what you thought she was saying then you’d have to determine if it was worth it.

“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n.” Harry chimed in, “I know you’re a really sweet girl and you don’t want to disappoint anyone but if you tell us no we won’t be upset. You won’t lose your job.”

You were thankful he said that. It had flashed across your mind the idea that if you said no they might not want to keep you around.

“So, you’re like asking me to have a…” you gulped and looked between Harry and his wife, “like a threesome with you?”

“Yes. You don’t have to decide right now. And like Harry said, you don’t have to say yes. We just both find you very appealing and sweet. We’re very much attracted to you too and we trust you. I think we’d all work well together. It could be just a one-time thing or maybe it could be something we do regularly.”

The subject was changed shortly after. They’d done their part. They’d asked you what you thought and now the ball was in your court. You had to figure out what you wanted. Which made it hard to participate in the rest of the conversation. You tried but your brain was having a hard time moving past the things your imagination was coming up with.

“I hope you don’t feel weird after this. No rush to make a decision. Seriously.” Mrs. Styles smiled softly at you as she drew her fingers from the side of your jaw to under your chin delicately.

“Thank you. I just need some time to think.”

She leaned in and kissed your cheek as Harry stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.

When you’d all finished the bottle of wine Harry and Kit walked you to the door. You still didn’t know what you wanted exactly. In a fun fantasy world (which you’d definitely be visiting in your imagination that night) it would be amazing. To have them both? Yes. That sounded so good. But the reality of it wouldn’t be that easy you knew. Would it be awkward to work for them after? And what if you did some kind of arrangement with them as their… what was it called? A unicorn?  

You felt breathless as you got into your car. You hadn’t had all that much wine. A glass and a half. The bottle was split between all three of you so none of you had gotten even close to drunk but you felt all buzzy. And even turned on. The idea of what they were offering sounded like a dream. But maybe that’s how it should remain. Just a dream. A fantasy.

.           .           .

The following day everything seemed normal. The Styles acted as if they hadn’t just asked if you’d want to have a threesome with them. It felt surreal. Like perhaps it never happened.

But when Harry arrived home first after work you felt like something about him was different. That’s when the cracks started forming. That morning he was friendly like he always was. But now he was brooding. His eyes were heavy on you. As if he was now looking at you differently.

He listened to William and Warner tell him about their day but you felt his eyes singing you as he kept looking your way. You felt intimidated by him suddenly and looking at him in increments longer than a few seconds felt like you’d dissolve.

He walked you to the door after you said goodbye to the boys and held the handle tight before turning it, “You wouldn’t want to stay for a drink would you?”

The way he asked you felt less like a question and more like a reminder to you of what was still left on the table. It was a reaffirmation of what was suggested the night before. It was real. It had happened and he was here to remind you.

You looked down at his hand grasped around his door handle and back up to him. You were compelled to say yes as you began to nod, “Yes. Okay.”

You felt nervous. Harry’s grin looked like he was pleased by your answer.

The boys were playing in their room as he poured you a glass of wine.

“When will Mrs. Styles come home?” It was rare that they weren’t home at nearly the same time after work.

“She’s going out with a friend tonight. She’ll be late. I thought you and I could get to know one another a little better. She knows I planned on asking you to stay. I’m glad you did.”

You nodded and felt your nerves only grow. Alone time with Mr. Styles wasn’t something that ever really happened much. Normally Harry was with his wife when he discussed anything with you.

You both sat on the large couch in the living room as Harry lifted his glass toward yours, clinking them together.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Harry had one leg draped over his other casually as he looked down at you.

“Uh… I don’t have any. Normally I just make last-minute plans with friends,” you squirmed in your spot at the way he was consuming you with his eyes.

“Maybe if you find you’re free you could come over Saturday afternoon. The kids will be staying with their grandparents. Kit will be making something special for dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Yeah. I mean, as long as it’s not imposing,” you were growing hot. Your palms were sweating. Harry was so attractive it was making your body weak. You honestly didn’t care what would be made for dinner but you were curious about where the night might lead if you did wind up in their house without their kids around all night.

“Of course, you wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be the guest of honor,” Harry’s arm slid over the back of the cushion behind you, and you gulped nervously.

“Oh, that’s…” you breathed out a jittery laugh, “… not necessary. No need to do anything special for me.”

“I hope you know that anything that happens, we’d always make it special for you, Y/n. We want you to feel comfortable.”

You could feel the temperature around your body rise with his proximity. You had noted how he’d inched his way a bit closer.

“Thank you, Harry. You and Mrs. Styles are always so nice to me.”

You were visibly nervous. Harry could see it too.

His wife had suggested that he invite you to stay for a drink and more if you allowed it. She really wanted to try any angle to get you to say yes to their offer. She figured if you were alone with Harry for a bit maybe you’d feel more comfortable. So, Harry was working on just that. And the more he thought about you and his wife’s convincing argument to bring in a third, he found he was more and more into the idea.

Plus you were simply the sweetest thing. He could see that you were a little timid and somehow that made his body respond to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It set his blood to a low boil. His wife was lovely. Amazing in bed but it was true that with her there was something missing. He rarely got the opportunity to dominate his wife and really release his natural inclination to flex his prowess with her. Because she was dominant as well. And Harry didn’t mind it for the most part. But he missed certain things.

“We’d like to be more than just nice to you, darling,” his fingers behind you softly brushed against your neck and you inhaled shallowly at the contact. “But you already know what we want. How about you? What do you want, Y/n?”

You fluttered your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the pad of Harry’s thumb slide up your neck. Harry’s cologne and his natural scent were so appealing. You turned to look at him and worked up your nerve, “I think it sounds really fun. The offer. I’ve never been with a woman.”

He licked his lips, “You’ve experienced men, then, yeah?”

You nodded. You were sure he could see you physically melt.

“What do you like, Y/n?”

You had not expected the conversation to go this way, “I don’t… I’m not sure. I’ve not really done a lot. Nothing too crazy,” you laughed your words in embarrassment.

Harry’s soft petting on your neck continued, “That’s okay. We can figure it out as we go. To be honest, we’ve never done anything like this either.”

“And Mrs. Styles? Has she been with women?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. This was her idea actually. She’s been missing a feminine presence in bed.”

You felt the trickle of lust and carnal need swell in your body as Harry drew his free hand across his body and to your knee, “Is this okay?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. You wanted to lean forward and grab your glass of wine and gulp the whole thing in one go but you wouldn’t dare break from his hold. It was intimate and having his hands on you was satisfying.

Harry looked toward the hallway and then back to you, “I’d like to kiss you. Y/n. Are you comfortable with letting me kiss you?”

His lips felt like they’d burst into flames if he didn’t press them into yours. But he couldn’t do that in front of the twins because he knew that once he felt your mouth and your tongue he was going to want more and if you were open to it he’d take it even further. His wife had given him permission as long as he was discreet (not in front of the boys). No sex without her present but some heavy petting and fingering were fine.

“Okay,” you breathed and expected him to kiss you right then as you braced yourself.

“Yeah?” He squeezed your thigh and tilted his head as he looked down over your body, “Go into my bedroom. I’ll be right there.”

You were shaky as you stood up and watched Harry walk away to talk to the twins in their room. The boys were old enough that they’d play by themselves just fine, you knew. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips and gulped half at once. You couldn’t even remember walking to the master bedroom upstairs. Your mind was a swirl of what-ifs and scenarios and questions.

“Are you okay?” Harry said as he closed the door behind himself. Everything was happening in slow motion. You were trying not to feel so floaty and far away but you couldn’t help it. Your experience with sex had been minimal and you certainly had never pictured yourself as part of this situation.

“I’m just nervous. I’m always like this the first time…” You swallowed and looked at the edge of the dresser against the wall.

“That’s okay,” Harry stepped in front of you and rubbed his hands down your arms, “I’m a little nervous too but I really want to kiss you. Just didn’t want the boys to see.”

You nodded in understanding, “And it’s okay with Mrs. Styles?”

His hands slowly grazed up your arms to your shoulders and then around to the back of your neck and head, “Her idea. But in all honesty, I want to kiss you. Feel like I need to.”

Blinking your eyes you raised your arms to hold onto his biceps as you kept your eyes pinned to his. He was solid under your hand. Of course, he was. You knew Mr. Styles was fit and you’d seen him in shorts and t-shirts and once glimpsed his pecs. You knew he had tattoos.

But when he finally nudged his nose to yours and his hot lips wrapped around your mouth everything went from being slow motion and blurry to high speed and heart pounding. You couldn’t get enough of his mouth and his tongue and you gripped his arms until he’d practically lifted you off your feet and pulled you to his bed.

His kisses were wet and warm and he moaned into your mouth. He was ravenous. It made you feel like a seductress, like he craved you.

You were across his lap and twisted to face him with your arms over his shoulders and your tongue pressed to his when he cupped your face and parted from the kiss.

“Y/n… Fuck honey…” he dabbed a kiss to your jaw and then looked back at you, “Can I get your pants off? Make you feel good? No sex tonight,” his words were deep and thick, “That’s for Saturday. But for now,” he ran a hand up your thigh up to your hip, “I can give you a preview with my fingers. If you want.”

“Yes, Harry,” you breathed your words and tried to lean back in for another kiss but he kept you at a distance, his hands on your jaw and fingers cradling the back of your head.

“I really liked it when you referred to me as Daddy last night. Will you do that for me again, honey?”

See. That was the thing. You already thought of him as Daddy. In all your private fantasies you called him Daddy. But it made you nervous because you fantasized about Harry far more than you ever did his wife. Kit was beautiful and she was definitely your type but Harry dominated your secret daydreams. So it would be easy for you to call him Daddy. But it worried you when it came to having his wife included in that dynamic.

“Is that okay? I mean,” you sighed breathily, “Will Mrs. Styles be okay if I call you Daddy?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Harry licked his lips, “Tell you what. Tonight, call me Daddy because I want to hear your sweet voice say it when I finger you, okay? I’ll talk to her and let her know I asked you to and I think she won’t care but if she doesn’t like it we won’t do it again.”

You nodded. Daddy it was. That would be easy.

Harry brought an arm to your low back and leaned you down onto his bed. The bed he shared with his wife. With his knees dug into the bed next to your hip he loomed over you and brought a gentle hand up to the front of your neck and pressed, “How does this feel? Is this okay?”

It was a first for you. To have someone’s hand on your throat. It was a surprise. But the good kind. You loved how small it made you feel and how powerless. You knew if you asked him to remove his hand he would but the notion that you were physically relinquishing your power to him was so hot to you somehow.

“It’s good,” you breathed just before he inched down to kiss you again.

It felt absolutely nuts what you were doing. Making out with your boss, a married man, in his bedroom while his wife who was away gave him permission and even encouraged this situation.

Harry’s hand slid off of your neck and down your t-shirt, “Can we take this off? All of it? So I can see you?”

You nodded, “Yes,�� and sat up so you could pull your shirt over your head. Harry unbuttoned his own and watched you unzip your pants and tuck your fingers inside the waistband before lifting your bum to pull them down your legs.

With his shirt unbuttoned you saw more tattoos. You’d paused for just a moment when you took note of his bare chest and abs.

Harry got to his knees and leaned over you, his hands on either side of your hips, “Do you need help with this?”

He put his hands over yours where you were grasping your waistband and helped you pull them off your legs.

His hands found your calves as he looked at you, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. Take your bra off.”

So you did. Unhooking the back and letting the front fall down your arms. Harry’s hands found their spot on either side of your hips again as he softly kissed each of your nipples, “Beautiful. Can I take your panties off?” His fingers were already dancing over the fabric of your waistband, knowing you’d be saying yes.

You gulped and nodded as he dragged the material down your legs, rendering you completely nude. Harry let out a breath as he raked his eyes over skin and curve and freckle.

Harry lay next to you and took your hand in his, bringing it up between you on the mattress, “You still doing okay, Y/n?”

You were feeling very vulnerable and insane for laying completely naked next to him but still you nodded. Because you wanted more of what he was doing.

You rolled to face him on your side when he smeared his mouth over yours. Letting go of your hand he moved his fingers down over your side to your hip and then upper thigh just at the curve of your ass. He squeezed softly but enough that you could feel his big palm grasping your flesh. You lifted your thigh to mantle his hip out of instinct and his palm spread out over the globe of your cheek.

“Want my fingers, honey?”

The way the tips of his fingers were grazing so close to your pussy with your leg draped over him you were losing your mind. All he had to do was lower an inch and he’d feel your wetness.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Harry moaned and moved his head back to look at you, “Oh I really like how that sounds. Let’s have a look then,” he ran his hand over your hip to the front of your tummy as he moved back the tiniest bit to press his fingers over your mound. Slowly his fingers lowered until he met soft wet lips. He breathed in through his teeth, “You all wet for Daddy?”

The smile on his face was cocky but you loved it.

“Yes,” you bit your lip.

With his eyes on yours, he parted your labia with two fingers and slowly ran them down to your opening and then back up until he bumped your clit and pressed over that. You moaned softly.

He was easy with his fingers on you as he kept slipping them up and down, pushing your arousal through your crease and getting his fingers coated.

When he captured your lips in his again you felt him prodding at your entrance. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and he pressed two fingers inside as you grasped onto his shoulder.

You groaned as he fingered you and fixated on the spongy dip inside. You bucked into his hand, “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?”

You panted yesssss.

The sloppy noises that were coming from between your legs would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.

“Please,” you breathed as you lowered your hand to his hip, “I wanna see.”

Harry kept thrusting into you with his fingers while his thumb smoothed against your clit, “You can on Saturday, baby. For now, this is all about you.”

You whined and closed your watery eyes as he began to fuck into you faster. His palm was a sticky mess. You raised your hip and rutted into his hand harder.

“You’re gonna grip me so tight and I’m gonna push inside you deep,” he punctuated his words with his thrusts, “Have you creaming all over my cock.”

Your groans grew louder as he pasted his mouth to your neck and you felt the warm press of his tongue on your skin, his curls brushing against your jaw. He shifted so that suddenly you were on your back and he was on his side with his fingers still inside of you, lips on your breasts.

He felt so good and you were already so caught up in the way he was making you feel you’d all but forgotten that this man was married and he was your boss. This was better than your fantasies. He was more confident and a lot more dominant in reality. And just sweet enough that you felt safe.

Harry lifted upward slightly, still pumping his fingers through you causing you to let out a small squeal. You felt his hand cover your mouth and you peeled your eyes open as he lowered his lips to your tits, his fingers plowing through your walls. You were being too loud.

He peered up at you with his tongue gliding over your nipple, his shoulder flexing with each thrust of his arm. Yes, this was definitely better than fantasy. Because it was happening and it felt so good.

You felt his lips slip off the skin of your nipple, “If I take my hand off, you gonna keep quiet?”

 Nodding your head you softly moaned into his hand. He pulled his hand away from your mouth and leaned over you to kiss your mouth. Softly at first. It felt like candy-flavored pink sparkle dust magic with his warm lips smoothing against yours, and his nose mushing into your nose.

“Daddy, please…” you breathed as he lifted himself to look down at you.

“What baby?” The sound of your wet pussy getting fingered was the backdrop of you beginning to unravel.

“M’gonna come… Daddy, ffuu– ohhh!” Your mouth was quickly covered again when your volume grew even louder than it had been. You heard Harry softly chuckle just as you clenched around his fingers and grasped his forearm, your neck stretched over the pillow as you arched your back.

Harry looked down at his hand and groaned at how your pussy was devouring his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see what his cock would look like sinking into your perfect cunt. And he thought you were pretty when you orgasmed. He was sure he’d want to make you come over and over again if his wife wasn’t too greedy with you.

“Such a good little girl, Y/n. There you go, baby.” He smirked at you, his fingers still slipping into you, squelching when he buried them in all the way.

“This what you needed? Needed to come on Daddy’s fingers?” Your soft moan was muffled as you finally set your gaze back on Harry who was already looking at you.

“Just imagine how good it’s gonna feel on my cock.” He slid his thumb over your clit and you jolted from sensitivity.

Harry took his hand off your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy as he sat back, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to taste you. He could smell your pussy as he was fingering you and couldn’t wait to get a taste.

Popping his fingers out of his mouth he caged you into your spot on the mattress, hovering over you, “How was that?”

“So good,” you were still taking in labored breaths.

His mouth encased yours once again. His kiss was lustful and fiery. You could smell yourself when he cradled your head, his fingers, still damp with you, swiping into strands of your hair.

A deep moan fell from his chest and you pulled your arms over his shoulders and the cotton of his shirt. Your body began to ignite again just before he parted from your mouth with a gasp.

“I’m sorry. Got carried away. Your lips are so sweet,” his voice was deep and breathy. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded and smiled.

Harry insisted on helping you clean up. First, you peed but then he came in and wet a towel to help wipe you and talk to make sure you were okay.

You could tell he had a boner. The front of his trousers was bulged in an obvious way. His pupils were dark and his skin was hot. And you would have loved to have him use you however he wanted to take care of himself but you wouldn’t go against his Kit’s wishes.

“So, Saturday? You sure you want to come over?” Harry handed you the clothes he’d picked up from the floor and his bed.

“Yeah. I’d like to.”

Harry cupped your jaw and smudged your cheekbone with his thumb, “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

He walked you out to your car and squeezed your hand before dropping it. It felt strange. Like you’d just gotten away with something so immoral and improper but you were elated.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/n. Drive safe.”

“Okay. Thank you, Da–“ your eyes widened and you felt your whole body wash in heat as you tried to correct your near-fatal error, “Ha- Harry.”

The grin on his face with smiling dimples told you that he didn’t mind, “Night, sweet girl.”

Part 2

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[starkeyisthelastname]

you got me obsessed with trailer park rafe now ugh i can imagine any time he gets into it with her dad over rent he’d take it out on her later by having her pinned to his dingy couch with a hand on her neck and her tits spilling out of her little dress from his brutal thrusts 😩

thank you angel! im obsessed with him too 😩💦

Your father had added on a late fee to Rafe’s rent, meaning he had to come up with an extra $50, when he just spent the last of his money on a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes. He was pissed to say the least, certainly not in any mood for company. Which is why when he heard a few delicate knocks to the torn screen door, he snorted as he saw your sugary self standing there. You really were a man’s dream, so beautiful and too damn innocent for this world. Not knowing the struggles a man like him had to deal with. He grumbled, his massive frame striding over to the door as clearly you weren’t leaving.

It creaked open, his blue eyes peering down at you with a stoic expression and cigarette hanging out of his mouth. You didn’t know your favorite person was in a bad mood due to your father’s actions. In fact he had just given you some money to go to the town’s carnival tomorrow and to take one of your little friends. He just didn’t know you were going to ask the older man that he had thrown a late fee on for being past due on rent.

“Get outta here, kay babydoll. Not in a good mood.” Rafe’s voice mean, despite using your favorite pet name he called you.

Your glossy lips frowned, playing with the hem of your little summer dress, unknowingly letting your bouncy tits sway as you rocked back and forth. “B-but, my daddy gave me some money to go to the carnival tomorrow and i.. wanted you to go with me.” You said, long lashes fluttering at him.

The blue eyes that had been staring at your tits, went back to your face as you said your daddy gave you money. The same daddy he had cussed out for being a cheap bastard earlier in the day for charging a late fee all of a sudden. He took a long drag of his cigarette, his height imposing and darkened irises nearly staring into your soul. “Why you tell me that for, sugar?” He finally spoke, blowing the smoke towards you. “Cause you know your old man pissed me off.” He laughed, tapping the side of your forehead, to get your dumb little brain to understand what was about to happen.

He’d have you pinned on the torn and tattered couch, his massive palm wrapped around your throat. He could easily snap your neck if he wanted to, but enjoyed the sounds of your pretty cries too much as he brutally pounded into you. “Told you I’m a bad man, little slut. Don’t you ever come round’ here and tell me that shit again.” He spat, voice gruff and breathless as he rammed you.

You squeaked, soft hands coming out to grab anything as he fucked you into the couch. Your poor little self should have been scared, but you still put all your trust in him and were too far attached to him to ever think he was a bad mean man. You thought you were doing something nice, inviting him to the carnival but now you just wanted to show him that you could be good. Oh you were so far gone, letting him use you exactly like he said he was. Like his little fuckdoll.

“Shhh, babydoll. I know..” Rafe murmured, watching your eyes start to roll back and gorgeous tits bounce as he laid into you. “Gettin’ your cunt ruined by a big cock, huh?” He laughed, assumed that you to him so well. His hand that was around your neck, came up to roughly cup your jaw, making your eyes snap open. You could feel that funny feeling come over you, this time a new pressure hitting.

“You should have just stayed away. But you just couldn’t help your lil’ self could ya? Now your fuckin sweet baby self is stuck with me.” He breathed out, watching your pretty face come undone as you began squirting and soaking the torn couch underneath you.

[sordidmusings]

mihawk strikes me as the type to hide any hickies that he got but admire them in private, shanks would shamelessly show them off in public, while robin is more casual and doesn't get embarrassed if someone points it out and says point blank that she made out with you and it was very nice (sanji is crying).

YOURE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Also that ending is sENDING ME DJFJFJFJFFK if you’re afab then Sanji would definitely be stuck struggling if those were tears of joy for knowing it happened or tears of pain that he’ll never be a part of it. Probably more of the latter. If you’re amab then those are 100% grade A, bonafide Tears of Despair 💀

Mihawk, Shanks, and Robin Hickey Headcanons

Thinking about the Mihawk, you’d have to be Smart about where you put those hickies (thighs thighs thighs-) since he’s always Tits Out and Collar POPPED. I think if he showed up with a fully buttoned shirt or turtleneck it would be more suspicious than him saying the bruises were from training 💀 (I mean maybe it was true - you could’ve been training him to let you fully take charge for once 🤷🏼‍♀️). The thought of him admiring them is what really grabs me in this. I like to think the betrayal that Oda hints at in Mihawk’s background is related to a past love (many good daydreams from this lol) so him healing enough from that to take the time to admire a mark of intimacy?? Feel satisfaction looking at a physical reminder that you belong to each other?? Find comfort in being your partner and enjoying being wanted and owned by you??? Happy brain 🫠🫠🫠

Shanks being the resident manwhore is Gospel dude and I fuckin LOVE him for that 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 here for the energy and the good times lol I imagine that he just showed them first cuz he didn’t care to hide them. Why would it matter?? It’s obvious he’s a man with a large appetite for debauchery both light and heavy and they’re all adults on the ship so there’s no problem. Then he found he enjoyed all the jokes, whether in his favor or at his expense, whenever his crew caught a peep of an exceptionally dark or large one or an excessive art project coloring his neck and chest. But once he got with you he enjoyed it even more. He was proud edging on smug whenever others saw the marks you’ve left on him. He got to have you and they didn’t. Better yet they also got to see just how much you enjoy him. Why would he ever hide that??

R O B I N 😩 I HAVE A NEED OKOK AND OML I WAS CACKLING AT THE “and it was very nice” HDHFHFJD SO HER AND SO FUNNY 💀💀💀 imagine that conversation being how the crew finds out you’re together. They just thought you were Close Friends. And I mean they’re not wrong, there’s just some extra activities. And maybe a new type of devotion to go along with the friend one. Whoopsies 🤷🏼‍♀️. Honestly maybe even extra points if it’s also the convo where you get together because the making out just kind of Happened and you’ve been agonizing over the “what does it mEAN???” and “how do I talk to her about this???” Then she’s just like “yeah we kissed and it was great :)”. Oh so this isn’t a big secret?? She’s not ashamed?? It was great 👀 over the howls of Sanji you manage to ask her to meet with you after breakfast for a convo (and more time enjoying some “very nice” activities)

Complete side note on Robin - since sensation but not wounds seem to transfer from her copies and extra limbs/etc. that would be insanely convenient to go buck wild while also being able to be completely discrete. Of course you don’t get the same advantage 😔 which I’m sure she’d exploit to have fun watching you react to them being pointed out by the loud mouthed captain like every time (“Luffy I tOLD you already - we weren’t leaving you out of sparring!”) or maybe a nosy navigator heheheh

And on an angstier note, having gone so so so long without love, I bet physical reminders of any kind help her feel like it’s real and that’s she’s not just going to wake up and find out it was all a dream. There’s also a promise in visible proofs of love, sometimes even ones as ~scandalous~ as hickies, that you want that love and you’re proud of that love. I think Robin would find a lot of solace in anything that helps her know you’re happy and proud to love her.

Really enjoying these and may do some little vignettes of them! Undecided if I wanna throw some others in there 🤔 maybe if any Grabs Me while I think more about it haha or if anyone is possibly interested 🤷🏼‍♀️

Thank you for sending in your thoughts dear anon❣️I’ve had so much fun with them!!!! Sending love and hugs 🤍🤍🤍

Part of my little celebration!

[kazumist]

CROSS MY HEART, P.S. I LOVE YOU .ᐟ

✩ — or in which some genshin men are found crushing on you, but all with their own dilemmas.

✩ — includes: scaramouche, neuvillette, wriothesley, heizou x gn!reader. fluff (angst if you squint?). no cws. wc: 323. please reblog !! it rlly helps me a lot :D

scaramouche doesn’t find it funny. it isn’t funny how you’re able to conquer every thought that pops up in his head. it isn’t funny how he ends up thinking about you at such a random moment in his day. and it certainly isn’t funny that every thought that he has eventually leads back to you, for some reason. he feels icked by the fact that he’s well aware that he’s feeling this way—but at the same time, if it weren’t you, then who else would it be? if it wasn’t you, then scaramouche can’t imagine himself falling for anyone else.

neuvillette just can’t seem to get you off his mind. he wonders many, many things about you. such as what you would be doing at the moment or what you probably had for lunch—just the simple things, really. but neuvillette also finds himself wondering if you have been thinking about him too. have you been wondering about how his day is going as well?

wriothesley worries. he knows he’s falling—deeply, even. but he worries that maybe, just maybe, things aren’t the same for you. what if he was reading the signs wrong? what if you also make such special gestures to other people? would you be there to catch him? that seems blurry for him. he doesn’t know why he fell for you out of all the people. please, don’t look at him that way, because he might just start going insane.

heizou has no idea what to do. whenever he’s with you, his mind comes to a blank. his feet gets stuck on the ground, his hands suddenly start to get all sweaty, and since when was it so hot here? heizou feels like he’s burning up. archons, why did you have to look so attractive? it’s obvious that the gods didn’t cram on you because literally everything suits you. but do you know what would suit you best? him, of course!

[ghoulphile]

I just read one where somebody was talking about how the ghoul would be able to smell if the reader was on her period and on another note…imagine if he could smell that she’s aroused by him. him telling her to cut that shit out and her being like what are u talking about????

“pheromones, sweetheart. ain’t a man in the wasteland who can’t smell ya right now, ghoul or otherwise” 🫢

ok ok ok but hold up!!! that is one of my fave tropes for ghouls besides the whole marking with cum to stop ferals 🥴 my personal hc is that ghouls have enhanced senses so better everything.

maybe you’ve gotta rub one out while you’re traveling together bc you just can’t help it anymore - you’ve been clenching your thighs and shifting and trying to ignore it but if you hope to get any sleep, you’re gonna have to take matters into your own hands.

you’re quiet as a mouse, perfunctory in how you play with your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers. you wanna be as quick and efficient as possible. after all, he’s on the other side of the blown out wall after all, murmuring to dogmeat and stoking the camp fire.

the most you’ll allow yourself are these little hitching breaths, praying the slick sound of you playing with yourself isn’t audible among the noise of wasteland nights. and when you finally cum with a bitten of choke of breath, stumbling on weak knees to plop across from him, he barely glances your way.

his face might tilt oddly but he doesn’t say anything so you think you get away with it. and because you think you’re sly, you start doing this pretty regularly. every time ends the same, you sitting across from him sweaty and buzzing with satisfaction, him quietly contemplating you before turning his attention away.

except… you push too far eventually.

you’d slunk your way back to the campsite after riding your fingers, slick still stuck in the creases of your knuckles (you wiped them clean, or rather as clean as you could in the middle of the wasteland, but tattered rags only do so much). the flames of a low banked fire dance in the abyss of his eyes with a firefly glow. his stare is more intense than ususal, and you fluster.

fuck. he knows. doesn’t he?

then he’s asking you to hand him something, and you do - only for him to strike rattlesnake quick. rough fingers drag over the delicate skin of your wrist, digging into your thudding pulse point.

“what-“ your wide eyes snap up to his, and you shake your hand. his grip is like steel. “let go!”

“see, funny thing is, i don’ think you really want me ta.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

a sound rumbles from his chest, full of grit and gravel; bourbon heat. “don’ play coy with me lil girl. i’ve been smellin’ how wet you get for days.”

your heart stops, eyes squeezing shut and face turning away. his gaze lingers like a physical caress as it drags down your cheek, snagging on the tuck of your lip between your teeth.

he laughs, rusty and mean. “oh, sweetie, you think i ain’t noticed by now? didn’t hear all those precious lil sounds you made? that’s real cute.”

“i-i’m…”

sorry.

“how’s about you give me a practical demonstration, yeah?”

he tugs at your wrist, brings your hand close to his face. you feel the puff of his breath. the slick drag of his tongue as he laps at the webbing between your fingers, chasing after the remnants of your slick.

“think i’m owed that much for all the teasin’.”

[crushedsweets]

Love Bonnie interacting with Toby and Kate, curious on how she'd act with the others. Sorry if this sort of ask was answered before!

You guys flatter me too much . I will self indulgent talk under the cut

ok i havent really thought THAT hard about bonnie in Creeped because 1. i only put her in self-insert OC worlds with my friends 2. she's not that interesting to interact with 3. i'm putting her in place of the hypothetical Y/N i wouldve done for a Creeped visual novel (not dating sim...just visual novel LOL) ....maybe i'll redo this with the ghost bride bonnie i made for a slender mansion AU? she's a lot more interesting

HOWEVER. i think with the main cast it could be kinda funny. cuz bonnies just kinda weird and awkward and difficult to talk to. she's so quick to just go right home.

with Nina, i could see nina fawning over bonnie a little. "your hair color is so pretty do you know how many girls at the salon would kill for this?" "oh my god where did you get that top" "smell my perfume do you like it let me spray you!". bonnie would get overwhelmed and unsure if nina is making fun of her or being genuine, BUT i think the second nina's like "oh yeah im from california too" bonnies like ! OK WE R LIKE THE SAME ! i could see bonnie inviting nina out to a cafe to study but ninas writing fanfic the entire time (unbeknownst to bonnie). bonnie would get along the best with nina, on account of them both being friendly girls with similar interests

With clocky. bonnie would 1000% frequent the restaurant clocky works at, always order the same stack of pancakes, and nothing else comes from it. clocky would be alright with her cuz bon tips well + cleans up her table before leaving (mom was a server so she developed the habit + she's nervous about being a bad guest LOL). BUT . as you can see in the pic. i think it'd be funny if bon immediately called camila(my friends oc) and started going on about "oh my god you wouldve fucking loved my server she was so tall dude come visit me im gonna make you come here" and walked past clocky with a coat so she didnt even realize it was her. dumbass

bonnie would have 0 reason to interact with jack... but bonnie has her issues with ghosts that land her freaking out in forests trying to get away from them. and she'd freak the fuck out if she saw jack, cuz bonnies anxiety/nerves/paranoia is already maxxed out all the time. now imagine a 6'7 grey man in an ominious mask being the only person youve seen in your involuntary hike through the woods after having ghosts swear theyre gonna kill you. shes gonna throw up

she'd have 0 reason to talk to jeff too. they would never be in similar circles(not that bonnie really Has a circle), but. i like the idea of them constantly coincidentally getting stuck on the same train/bus and it being hell on earth. for her, at least. he dgaf. maybe he had plans to kill her one night and started following her and something went wrong and he gave up. dunno

i legit struggle to get in-depth with bonnie and crp characters cuz she's just. so not in their realm. she legit just exists and has bad ghost shit happen to her and is like Guys this is really unfair.

[aayakashii]

Hii just wanted to say I have read most of your fics and headcanons and I loved them and for this reason I wanted to request if you could do "what petname the tokyo debunker characters use for their s/o in a relationship"

I just want more tkdb fluff🥲

Thank you for reading my stuff!!! 🫂 I'm glad you liked it and thank you for entrusting me with this idea! I hope you like it <3

what petname would they use for their s/o in a relationship?

Kamurai Jin

The good and old fashioned "my love". He probably uses anything he can say it's his, and "my love" is the perfect way to refer to you. You're his, and you're his love after all.

Ishibashi Tohma

"Mouse" 💀 He's standing on the tethering line of being super sweet and mildly threatening lol A tiny little thing he loves and wants to protect but that's also very very squishable...

Fuji Kaito

"Angel". You're giving him the time of the day and being in a relationship with him, so he immediately worships you like you're some holy being. You're 100% his angel.

Lucas Errant

I don't really see Luca using petnames, but if he did, he'd probably call you "dear". And it'd come out very naturally! He'd be asking you for something and accidentally call you dear while doing it. Or maybe one day he said "good morning dear" and it just stuck.

Mido Alan

Alan most probably doesn't use petnames in the beginning, but after he's comfortable in the relationship, he might call you "bug" <3 something a little old-fashioned like that fits him, I think!

Kurosagi Leo

He'd call you something mildly deameaning but shockingly sweet for someone like him as well. Maybe something like "dumbass (affectionately <3)"

Haizono Sho

Oh he most definitely calls you "babe". He is very much a huge flirt and that will never stop even when you two are dating lol

Sagara Haru

Literally every extremely chessy petname ever like sugarplum, buttercup, pumpkin, cutie pie, honey bun 💀 But that's when he's trying to be funny or annoying! When he's serious, he calls you "sunshine" <3

Otonashi Towa

Besides Dandelion, he calls you every flower with a romantic meaning or flowers that mean beauty! Such as rose, daffodil, tulip, camellia, honeysuckle etc.

Shiranami Ren

Not one for petnames, but if he uses one, it'd be some inside joke between you two, like he could call you the name of a character he likes in one of his gacha games and you could do the same.

Hoshibami Taiga

Besides kitten, I could see him using "doll" too, because dolls are cute and compliant, and that's the perfect little toy for him :)

Romeo Scorpius Lucci

He probably would call you "darling" with a mildly threatening tone 💀 it's the type of petname that can sound very sweet but also very ominous depending on his tone. Fits his borderline yandere personality too.

Shinjo Ritsu

He probably thinks "partner" is already a petname, but you'd have to explain to him that it isn't (with a huge document signed and notarized if possible).

Kagami Subaru

He probably feels incredibly embarrassed, but I think he wouldn't mind calling you something sweet and cute, like "honey" or "love" too. I don't think Subaru would go crazy with the petnames, so I'd expect something classic like that.

Kusanagi Haku

Princess/prince obviously, but I can also imagine him saying things like lovely or gorgeous, especially if he can get to whisper it in your ear just to fluster you lol

Kotodama Zenji

Oh god. All of them. Probably a different one every single day. He probably keeps a notebook of petnames just to get ideas for new ones. He refers to you as his beloved when he's talking about you to other people, though.

Edward Hart

Dove, but if you bother him enough, he can call you spider monkey, don't worry *gets shot*

No but seriously, dove is perfect for him.

Mizuki Rui

All of them. Just... all of them.

Lyca Colt

I don't see him using any, but maybe if you call him something, he'll use it as well. That's a HARD maybe though, I think he'd feel too embarrassed to do that.

Isami Yuri

He'd probably overthink about which petname he could use before ever calling you one. And after he decided, he'd have to take his time to gather the courage to even do that. He'd probably settle for something normal and classic, like "darling" or "sweetheart".

Kirisaki Jiro

Does not use petnames. Maybe if you ask him to use one, he'd do it, but you'd have to tell him what he could call you.