#her reaction was 'what in the fuck are you watching??'

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 5 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Things become official with the MILFS but there's an unexpected guest. Back at college, your friends are still trying to set you up with someone which Agatha and Rio will NOT let that slide, so they remind you exactly who you belong to again but Rio's been scheming

-OR-

Your girlfriends take you back to fuck you but somehow it ends with Agatha tied up and Rio getting railed...

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, tiny bit of angst, smut, fluff, possessive Agathario, power bottom Rio, switch reader, implied phone sex, marking, bondage (A recv), strap on (Rio recv), mentions of overstimulation, brief edging, oral (Reader recv)

Words: 5.1k

A/N: I am BACK baby, and what better way than with an update for this fic. I thought it was about time we got to fuck Rio :)

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Master List

Back Again

You stir faintly, the ache of exhaustion mingling with the cosy warmth of the couch. A shift in the cushions pulls you further from sleep, and you vaguely register the sensation of being lifted. Strong arms cradle you, the familiar scent of Rio’s shampoo grounding you even in your half-asleep haze.

“Shh, baby,” Rio murmurs, her voice a soothing balm. The gentle sway of her steps lulls you closer to rest, though faint snippets of conversation anchor you to the moment.

“They’re out cold,” Rio says softly, her tone carrying a rare mix of amusement and concern.

“I’m texting their parents,” comes Agatha’s voice, punctuated by the soft click of her nails on a screen. “Letting them know they’re staying here.”

The sound of soft sheets and the familiar scent of cedar envelop you as Rio lays you down on the bed, careful and deliberate. You feel the weight of the blanket pulled over you, and then the mattress dips beside you. Rio’s warm arms encircle you, pulling you close, while Agatha presses a kiss to your temple, her lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. Between them, you drift back into a deep sleep.

—

You can hear the sound of birds as you blink yourself awake, the warmth of Rio’s body beside you grounding you. Uncertainty knots in your stomach as you fidget with your hands, your mind racing with thoughts you’d been avoiding. What is this relationship you have with Agatha and Rio? Is it just sex? Or is there something deeper?

“Good morning,” Rio’s voice is soft, her head propped on her hand as she lies on her side facing you. Her honeyed gaze watches you with open affection.

You mumble a greeting, rubbing at your face as a familiar knot of unease tightens in your chest. Your hands continue to fidget of their own accord, fingers twisting over each other. Rio notices instantly.

“Hey,” she says softly, her brows knitting together. Her hand finds yours, stilling your nervous movements. “What’s going on?”

You hesitate, unsure of how to articulate the tangled thoughts that kept you tossing and turning in your dreams. Finally, you turn onto your side, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know what this is,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “With you and Agatha, I mean. It’s amazing and I don’t want it to end, but is it just sex? Like it’s obvious you’ve done this before; I just want to be able to set my expectations.”

The words leave you feeling vulnerable, your cheeks warming as you search Rio’s face for a reaction. She blinks, clearly taken aback, but then her expression softens. Her thumb rubs gentle circles over the back of your hand. “Sweetheart,” she starts, her voice thick with affection. “I didn’t realise you were worried about that.”

Before she can say more, a low groan rumbles behind you. Agatha stirs, wrapping an arm around your waist and nuzzling into the crook of your neck “Mornin’,” she murmurs, her voice gravelly and laced with sleep. She presses a soft kiss to your neck, her hold tightening slightly. “What are we talking about?”

Rio glances at you, silently asking for permission to explain. When you nod, she tells Agatha about your concerns. Agatha hums thoughtfully, her lips brushing your skin as she speaks. “Well, yes, we’ve had people join us in the bedroom before,” she begins, her voice steady. “But never someone who’s become part of our lives the way you have.”

Rio nods in agreement, her hand resting lightly on your hip. “We’ve been talking about this ourselves, you know,” she admits. “About how much we like you, how much we love having you around. You’re not just a fling, cariño.”

Agatha tilts your face to meet her gaze, her eyes warm and sincere. “We like you, baby. A lot,” she says, her lips quirking into a small smile. “So, what do you say? Would you want to start dating us? Properly? ”

For a moment, all you can do is stare, their words washing over you like a warm tide. Your chest tightens, but it’s not fear—it’s overwhelming relief. You nod, your voice shaky but resolute. “Yes. I’d like that.” They both smile, their joy evident as they pull you into a tight embrace.

—

The three of you make your way downstairs for breakfast, the warm morning light filling the kitchen. Agatha and Rio are particularly handsy, their touches more purposeful now, as if relishing the newfound claim they have on you since officially calling you theirs. They brush against you, steal kisses, and touch your waist or hand at every opportunity. The domesticity of it all feels surreal but wonderful.

It perfect. Almost too perfect.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Ma,” a voice calls from the hallway, startling you. You step away from Rio’s touch instinctively, a flush creeping up your neck as a young man with dark hair and a broad smile steps into the kitchen.

Nicholas pauses, his gaze darting between you and his mothers. “Uh, hi,” he says, his brow raising slightly. “Didn’t know you had company.”

Agatha clears her throat, stepping forward smoothly. “Y/N, this is our son, Nicholas,” she says. “Nicky, this is Y/N; your mom’s helping them with their Spanish.”

Your heart stutters, but you manage a polite smile. “Hi,” you say, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Nicholas grins, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Nice to meet you,” he says easily. “Hope they’re not giving you too hard a time; I remember how strict they were with me.”

You laugh nervously, shaking your head to rid yourself of memories from last night. The conversation shifts and though you find yourself easing into the flow, you can’t ignore the way your chest tightens with the realisation that you might be intruding on their family time.

When breakfast wraps up, you use the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I should probably get back to my parents’ place,” you say, standing. Agatha and Rio share a look but nod in understanding, both walking you to the door to say goodbye. Out of view of Nicholas, they each press a lingering kiss to your cheek before you leave.

—

The weeks that follow are a whirlwind of classes, assignments, and finals, but Agatha and Rio are never far from your mind—or your phone, which buzzes constantly with texts from them. They visit when they can, their presence a soothing balm to the ache of missing them. On the nights they can’t, they always call, their voices filling the empty spaces of your apartment.

One evening, you’re sprawled on your bed during a video call. Agatha’s voice is low and teasing, her words dipping into a register that makes your breath hitch and sends heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Careful with that blush, sweetheart,” she purrs, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “It’s too easy to tell what I’m doing to you.”

Rio, ever playful, leans into frame, her expression positively wicked. “You’re squirming. I can see it. Wanna tell us how much you miss us, cariño?”

Their voices twine together, their suggestive remarks growing more insistent, coaxing soft whimpers from you. The call becomes a delicious blur of teasing, their words a heady mix of affection and temptation, leaving you flushed and aching for more by the time the night ends.

—

The next day, your phone buzzes with a series of texts from your friends.

Kate: Hey! You coming out with us tonight? We’re celebrating the end of finals!

Peter: We’ve barely seen you lately. Come on, you need to unwind.

You hesitate, glancing at your phone with a pang of guilt. They’re right; you’ve spent every spare moment with Agatha and Rio or on the phone with them, wrapped up in the intoxicating rhythm of their affection.

You: Fine, I’ll come. But only if it’s just a casual hangout. No matchmaking schemes.

Their replies are immediate.

Peter: Casual, I swear. Just us. Drinks and good company.

Kate: Yeah, totally chill. No schemes… maybe just a little chance to meet someone new?

You groan at the last message, already regretting your decision.

You: Seriously. No setups.

Peter: Relax! We just think it’s time you got back out there. When was your last date? Oh, right—that dickhead at the bar.

Kate: Exactly. You’ve been single forever, and we’re just saying...

They don’t know about Agatha and Rio and you dodge the topic with practiced ease.

You: I’ll come, but I mean it: Just. Hanging. Out.

Kate: Okay, okay! Pinky promise.

You shake your head, sighing as you set your phone down. It feels a little disingenuous to let them think you’re single, but explaining your situation—or even trying to—feels impossible. Besides, the thought of a casual night with friends doesn’t seem so bad... as long as they stick to their promise.

MILFS Anonymous

~ 18:49

You: Going out with my friends tonight :)

Agatha: Have fun, gorgeous. And don’t let anyone think they have a chance.

Rio: Remember: ours and ours alone. 😘

Their words make your chest warm with affection, and their possessiveness is thrilling in a way you can’t quite articulate.

—

When you arrive at the bar, the atmosphere is lively, music pulsing through the air. Your friends greet you with excited hugs and chatter.

They guide you to a table, where you’re introduced to someone new—a friend of a friend—and your group makes sure you’re seated next to them. As the night progresses and the drinks flow, your friends keep glancing at you expectantly, their unsubtle hints making it clear they’re hoping for sparks to fly. 

You deflect every attempt at their flirting, dodging their questions with vague answers, your heart too full of Agatha and Rio to even entertain the idea of anyone else.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture. Your hand rests suggestively at the base of your neck, the angle teasing but not too revealing.

MILFS Anonymous

~ 20:04

You: *click to open image*

You: hey ;)

Rio: I think my hand would make a prettier necklace 👀👀

Agatha: Hello sweetheart, having a good night?

You: No :(

You: My friends are trying to set me up again 🙄

Agatha: Address. Now.

Rio: Behave yourself

You: Okay Daddy ;)

Their messages make you smile, a surge of comfort and amusement replacing the frustration. You return to your friends and the not-date, time slipping by in a blur of small talk and laughter.

Your head feels a bit fuzzy from the alcohol so when your phone buzzes, you answer it without checking who was calling.

“Hello?”

Agatha’s voice is sharp and commanding, cutting through the din. “Come outside, pet.”

The line goes dead, and your heart stutters as you make your way to the front of the bar.

The cool evening air brushes against your skin as you step out of the bar, your eyes immediately catching sight of Agatha and Rio leaning casually against their sleek black car. The sight is magnetic—Agatha’s sharp features softened by the glow of the streetlights, Rio’s gaze sweeping over you with that familiar, knowing heat.

Agatha straightens, beckoning you closer with a crook of her finger. Your legs carry you forward almost instinctively, your heart hammering in your chest. The moment you’re within reach, her hand snakes to the back of your head, fingers tangling tightly in your hair. She pulls you forward, crashing her lips against yours in a possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. Her grip tightens slightly, a subtle reminder of her dominance, and you whimper into her mouth, too stunned to resist.

She pulls back only slightly, her lips brushing yours as she murmurs, “We told you to behave.”

Before you can form a reply, she spins you around with practiced ease, your back pressed firmly to the car. Her lips claim yours again, harder this time, her tongue sweeping past your parted lips with an intensity that leaves your knees weak. Her thigh presses between your legs, eliciting a desperate moan that you barely manage to stifle.

Agatha chuckles darkly, her mouth trailing down to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your sensitive skin before sinking in just enough to leave a mark—a clear, unmistakable declaration of ownership. Your world narrows to the sensation of her lips, her tongue, and the faint sting of her teeth. Somewhere in the haze, you hear Rio’s voice, her tone low and amused.

“We’re going to have to keep a closer eye on you,” Rio says, though her words barely register in your muddled mind.

When Agatha finally pulls back, she smooths her hands over your arms, steadying you as she takes in the flushed, dazed expression on your face. Her eyes gleam with satisfaction. “I’ll see you later,” she says, her voice soft but commanding. Without another word, she climbs into the car and starts the engine.

You turn to Rio, expecting her to follow, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to Agatha’s lips through the open window. The kiss is slow and intimate, leaving no doubt about their connection. When Agatha finally drives off, Rio turns back to you with a knowing smile.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, taking your hand and leading you back into the bar.

The atmosphere feels almost surreal as Rio adds a chair to your table, effortlessly inserting herself into the group. Your friends are gawking, their eyes darting between you and Rio with barely concealed curiosity—and amusement.

“Hi, I’m Rio,” she introduces herself, her tone casual yet self-assured. She slides into the seat between you and the would-be date, her presence commanding as she rests her hand on your shoulder. “I’ve heard so much about all of you.”

Your friends exchange glances, their smirks widening. They know. They’ve always known about your soft spot for older women, and Rio’s arrival explains why you’ve been rejecting all of their attempts to set you up.

Rio’s touch is constant—her fingers brushing against the back of your neck, her hand settling on your thigh. The warmth of her palm seeps through the fabric of your pants, sending a steady pulse of heat coursing through you. She trails her hand higher, her grip firm but teasing, and when she squeezes the sensitive flesh at the apex of your thighs, your breath hitches audibly.

“You okay?” Kate asks, her tone laced with mischief.

You try to answer, but the words come out in a stuttering mess, your thoughts scrambled by Rio’s touch. Her lips twitch with amusement, her fingers giving one last squeeze before she straightens, glancing at her phone as it buzzes.

“Well,” Rio says, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I think it’s time we were off.” She stands, extending a hand to you with an easy smile.

Your friends exchange knowing looks as Rio says her goodbyes, her tone warm but unmistakably firm when she glares briefly at your would-be date before leading you out. The Uber is already waiting outside, and the moment the door shuts behind you, Rio’s hands are on you.

She cups your face, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s all heat and urgency. Her hands roam over your body, pulling you impossibly close as the car speeds away. By the time it stops outside a hotel, your skin is flushed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

You realise it’s the same hotel as last time, and as Rio comes to a stop and knocks on a door, you see it’s even the same room. Agatha opens the door, clad in the same purple lace lingerie that had stolen your breath the first night you were together, her eyes glinting with anticipation.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” she purrs, stepping aside to let you in.

Rio’s hand settles on your lower back, guiding you into the room. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and you barely have time to process the warm light and familiar scent of the suite before Agatha steps closer, her sharp eyes raking over your body as she trails her fingers along your jaw. Her lips crash against yours, rough and unyielding, and you can feel the smirk she wears as you melt into her touch. Rio’s hands slip around your waist from behind, her warmth grounding you even as your knees threaten to give out, pulling your pants and underwear down, exposing the small wet patch on the crotch of the fabric.

“Look at you,” Agatha murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “So eager for us.”

Before you can respond, Agatha grips your chin, tilting your head to expose your neck. Her teeth graze your skin, and then she bites—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to leave another deep, blooming mark. You gasp, the sting mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly.

Rio’s hands are no less demanding, sliding beneath your shirt to trace the curve of your waist. “Ours,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. Her nails scratch lightly against your skin as she pulls the fabric over your head, leaving you exposed to their hungry gazes.

The two of them manoeuvre you effortlessly toward the bed, their touches a coordinated symphony of dominance and affection. Agatha’s lips find yours again as she pushes you down onto the soft mattress, her weight pinning you in place. Rio climbs onto the bed beside you, her hands stroking over your thighs, her fingers curling possessively into your skin.

“You’re going to let us make you ours all over again,” Agatha whispers, her voice a low promise that sends shivers down your spine.

Agatha’s mouth trails lower, her teeth and tongue marking a path down your collarbone and chest. Meanwhile, Rio’s lips find the sensitive skin behind your ear, her hands guiding your thighs apart as she peppers kisses along your jaw. Their movements are synchronised and calculated, making you helpless against the overwhelming tide of pleasure they stir within you.

The room fills with the sound of heavy breaths and muffled gasps as they leave no inch of you untouched, no patch of skin unclaimed. Agatha’s marks bloom like flowers across your body—your neck, your shoulders, the swell of your hips—while Rio’s touch is a steady, grounding presence that leaves you trembling beneath them.

Agatha’s lips never leave yours as she manoeuvres you with ease, her strength evident as she pulls you on top of her. You straddle her, hands planted on either side of her head, and the kiss deepens. Her nails rake along your back, leaving a burning trail that only spurs your arousal further. You’re so caught up in the taste of her and the heat of her skin beneath yours that you barely register Rio’s movements around the bed.

The sound of soft rope sliding against the bedframe should catch your attention, but Agatha’s demanding kisses and the press of her body beneath yours make it impossible to focus on anything else. Rio, ever the planner, works quickly and quietly. By the time she whispers in your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine, the trap is nearly set.

“Pin her arms above her head, darling,” Rio whispers, her voice a mix of command and playfulness.

Without hesitation, you do as you’re told, grabbing Agatha’s wrists and stretching her arms over her head. Agatha lets out a low, approving growl. Her darkened gaze flickers to you with a teasing smirk, but before she can retake control, Rio moves in.

In a swift, practiced motion, Rio ties Agatha’s wrists to the bedposts. It takes Agatha a moment to realise what’s happening, her smirk faltering as she tests the bonds. “Really, Rio?” she drawls, though her eyes glint with intrigue rather than annoyance.

“Really,” Rio replies smoothly, a wicked grin curling her lips as she steps back to admire her handiwork. Agatha’s ankles are already tied, spread wide, and leaving her entirely open. “You made me watch and wait, my love; now it’s your turn.”

Rio turns her attention back to you, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and desire. “Off,” she instructs gently, her hands guiding you away.

You reluctantly climb off Agatha, her gaze never leaving yours, though it’s now tinged with a mix of curiosity and challenge. She looks breathtaking, her hair splayed out on the pillows, her body bound and vulnerable yet still exuding power.

Rio’s hands move to her own clothes, slipping her shirt over her head and shimming out of her pants with practiced ease. Beneath, she wears an emerald-green set of lingerie, the delicate lace hugging her curves and highlighting the strength in her frame. The sight leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but stare as Rio tosses her clothes aside with deliberate nonchalance.

“I’ve been thinking,” Rio says, her voice soft but firm as she steps closer to you. “You’ve not actually had the chance to fuck one of us since you failed to do what you were told.”

You blink, caught off guard by Rio’s declaration, your cheeks heating as you stammer out an incoherent response. “Uh… yeah, I guess,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rio chuckles, the sound low and rich as she closes the distance between you, handing you a harness. “That’s going to change now,” she murmurs, her dark eyes locking onto yours. The weight of the harness in your hands makes your heart race and your mind flashes back to the last time you and Rio indulged in each other without Agatha’s participation in this very room—and the punishment that followed.

You glance nervously toward Agatha, who raises a single, unimpressed brow at your hesitation. Sensing your uncertainty, Rio leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Relax, darling,” she murmurs, her tone soft but firm. “She’ll never admit it, but she likes this.”

Agatha scoffs from her place on the bed, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “Don’t push your luck,” she drawls, though there’s no real heat in her voice. Her eyes gleam with intrigue, even as she pretends disinterest.

Rio doesn’t miss a beat. Removing her lace panties, she climbs onto the bed, positioning herself with her back resting against Agatha’s restrained body, her movements smooth and deliberate. Agatha lets out a soft whine at the pressure, but her gaze stays fixed on you, a mix of challenge and anticipation in her expression.

Your fingers fumble with the harness as you step into it, the straps snug against your hips as you secure it. That’s when you notice, or rather feel, the grinding pad built into the design, its texture brushing against you with tantalising promise. You shiver at the sensation—a rush of heat pooling between your thighs as you adjust the fit. The thought of what’s to come sends a pulse of arousal through you, and you can’t help but bite your lip, your eyes darting between Rio and Agatha.

“Ready?” Rio asks, her voice soft but commanding as she watches you with a knowing smile.

Your hands shake slightly as you reach for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, slicking up the harness with nervous precision. Rio watches you intently, her head tilted back against Agatha’s torso, an expectant smirk playing on her lips. Once you’re ready, you climb onto the bed and position yourself over her, your knees on either side of her thighs. The heat between the three of you is palpable, tension thrumming in the air as you align yourself and sink down onto her.

You start slow and tentative, testing the rhythm. The grinding pad against you is more distracting than you anticipated, the friction sparking waves of pleasure with each motion. Rio exhales a soft, contented sigh, her hands settling on your hips to guide you. But it doesn’t take long for the look on her face—a mix of delight and impatience—to spur you into moving faster.

The sounds Rio makes are intoxicating: soft moans and deep, husky gasps that make your skin tingle. “Harder,” she commands, her voice rough with need. Her nails dig into your hips, urging you to obey, and you do, thrusting harder and faster. The slick grind of the harness against you and the sight of Rio’s pleasure-blissed expression send your pulse racing.

You don’t know why you do it—maybe it’s instinct, maybe it’s the intoxicating chemistry between you—but your hand rises, and you press two fingers against Rio’s lips. Her gaze snaps to yours, sharp and electric, and without hesitation, she takes them into her mouth. The heat of her tongue swirls around your fingertips, and you swear you feel your stomach drop with the intensity of your arousal.

Behind Rio, Agatha lets out a low breathless “Oh, fuck,” her voice ragged. You glance over Rio’s shoulder to see Agatha’s hips bucking desperately against Rio’s back, her restraint futile against her own need. The sight and sound of her breaking composure sends a jolt through Rio, her expression twisting into something feral, manic even. Her nails grip you tighter, and her voice shatters into a desperate moan as her body tenses and she comes undone beneath you.

The clenching of the harness and the relentless friction push you over the edge moments later. You cry out, collapsing against Rio’s chest as you ride out the waves together, your breathing ragged and uneven. Her arms wrap around you, holding you close as you both come down from the high.

It’s only then you notice the faint shuffle of movement. You lift your head to find Agatha free of the ropes, her arms and legs untied. Her lips are curled into a sly smile, and her gaze soft with amusement and hunger as she moves toward you. Before you can speak, she places her hands on your hips and gently manoeuvres you onto your back.

“You two are quite the pair,” Agatha murmurs, her tone carrying equal parts fondness and teasing as she takes off the harness and presses a soft kiss to your hip. She rests her head there, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thighs. “But I think it’s my turn now.”

You glance down at Agatha, her head resting on your hip as her fingers idly trace patterns across your thighs. “How did you…?” you ask softly, your voice still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax.

Agatha lifts her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Being able to get out of restraints is one of my boundaries,” she explains, her voice smooth and steady. “I’ve never been fully comfortable with giving up all control. It’s just how I am.”

You nod, her words sinking in as you process the vulnerability she’s just shared. “I understand,” you reply sincerely, your gaze locking with hers. The trust between you feels solidified in this moment, a quiet bond of mutual respect and understanding.

Before you can say more, Rio’s presence shifts beside you. Her hands cup your face, tilting your head so her lips can meet yours. The kiss is deep and languid, her tongue teasing yours in a way that pulls you further into the haze of pleasure still clinging to your body. Her warmth anchors you, a grounding presence as your senses start to spiral again.

Meanwhile, Agatha’s fingers trail down your thighs, spreading you open with deliberate care. She presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, working her way closer to your still-sensitive core. “Just cleaning you up,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. But when her tongue flicks out to tease your bundle of nerves, it’s clear her intentions are far from innocent.

A jolt of pleasure shoots through you, and you gasp against Rio’s lips, your hands instinctively clutching at her shoulders. Agatha takes her time, her tongue slow and precise as it circles your sensitive nub. The overstimulation is almost too much, your body trembling under her ministrations, but she knows exactly when to ease up and how to pull you back from the edge only to push you closer again.

Rio’s hands move to your waist, holding you steady as your hips start to buck against Agatha’s mouth. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Rio whispers against your lips, her tone filled with awe and hunger. Her words make your chest tighten, and you feel yourself unravelling again.

Agatha’s tongue works you relentlessly, her rhythm increasing as she senses how close you are. When she sucks gently on your clit, the tension inside you snaps, and you cry out, your body arching off the bed as the climax crashes over you. Waves of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you shaking and gasping for air.

As the intensity ebbs, Agatha places one last kiss on your trembling thighs before resting her head against your hip again, her fingers stroking your skin soothingly. Rio lies beside you, her hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach as she watches you with a tender smile.

“You’re amazing,” Rio murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. Agatha hums her agreement, but instead of her usual sharp quip or teasing remark, she stays quiet, her head resting on your hip and her fingers trailing softly over your skin. You glance down at her, noting the slightly dreamy look in her eyes and the way her shoulders seem to relax completely for the first time all night.

Rio notices too. Shifting her focus, she slides closer to Agatha, her hand gently brushing back a stray strand of hair from her face. “You okay, love?” she asks softly, her voice filled with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten. Agatha lets out a contented hum, leaning into Rio’s touch without hesitation.

“More than okay,” Agatha murmurs, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Rio smiles, her fingers tracing over Agatha’s cheek before pressing a kiss to her forehead. The sight tugs at something deep inside you, the intimacy between them wrapping you in its warmth.

As the moments stretch on, Rio encourages Agatha to sit up, her hands steadying her as she guides her toward the pillows. “Come here,” Rio whispers, wrapping her arms around Agatha and pulling her close. You watch as Agatha melts into Rio’s embrace, her sharp edges softened as she nestles against her chest.

You shift closer, draping an arm over both of them, your hand finding Agatha’s and lacing your fingers together. The three of you lie there in a tangle of limbs, the room quiet save for the steady rhythm of your breathing and the occasional murmur of sweet reassurances from Rio. For the first time in what feels like forever, there’s nothing to do but bask in each other’s presence, your bodies and hearts entwined in a shared sense of contentment.

-----

I am so sorry for going MIA for a bit there but hopefully this chapter makes up for it my darlings <3 the ending was inspired by Kathryn's iheart interview where she said she thinks Agatha would just want to be babied sometimes

Requests are back open now that I can actually write again :D

and also just my asks in general, I get bored and want to talk to y'all 👀

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taglist: @aceday @valarmorghuli @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @beezlebee16 @kiaralee25 @4theluvofsapphos @lez-zuha @jujuu23 @gaylorvader

[sturnioz]

fb!chris reaction to bun passing out? (sick/dehydrated idk)

i feel like bro would kinda freak out and maaaaaaybe keep checking in on her through out the day. just small glances and maybe a little “you okay kid?” here and there. yk be a little concerned (throw me a bone i beg) 🙏🏻🙏🏻

he’ll get pissed off somehow, somewhere in the story, probably get caught looking concerned or something and deny it—bc he’s chris 

one moment you were fine, and the next, you just drop, falling with a loud thump on chris' carpeted floor.

he thinks you're fucking around at first, or maybe you tripped over your own feet like the clumsy person you are. but when he sees you're not moving, he doesn't know what to do. he kind of freeze, the video he's watching on his phone fading in the background before he slips off his bed and walks over to you.

he leans down to tap his hand against your cheek a few times, his eyebrows furrowing when he feels the clamminess of your skin beneath his palm and he moves to shake your shoulder.

"hey—hey," he calls for you quite sternly, his jaw twitching when he hears you groan quietly—barely audible, but he still hears it. "s'matter with you, huh?"

he hooks his hands beneath your armpits to haul you up on wobbly feet, taking you over to his bed where he sits you down at the edge of the bed, giving you the most quickest once-over where he catches the dryness of your lips, scoffing with a shake of his head.

he does get you water, holding it to your lips, practically huffing and puffing the entire time for babying you, but he does reach out to steady you quite fast when you sway, almost knocking the back of your head against the headboard.

"hey. y'good, kid? you with me?" when you nod meekly, chris exhales deeply and prods his tongue at his cheek, his jaw twitches again as he helps you settle into the pillows, still holding the bottle of water to you lips to force you into taking more sips. "s'what happens when you're a fuckin' dumbass 'n don't keep hydrated, kid. think you can go around not drinkin' water? nah. now look at you... can't — can't do that. idiot."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

[sarahsangelicdoll-recs]

eoooof this is hot !! i swear i love everything you come out with 💞💞

“predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.”

I’ve said this before but i love predator x prey because it has such an underlying hint of trust and playfulness that i just LOVE sm, predator x prey fics are my weakness and i love them SM

“tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.”

Imagining fucking Rafes dick with my tits while i watch his reaction is just unbelievably hot. then watching his expression while he stares down at you while he’s cumming, EUGHH i need himm

“hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.”

i SWEAR i love bitchy!kook!reader and Rafes dynamic so much, they’re both hot and its just, eueeshe

“spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..”

I swear spanking is such a big kink of mine, it’s so hot ESPECIALLY when they’re typically more on the softer side. like just imagining myself laying on my tummy across their lap while they alternate between spanking my ass red and soothing it is just- chefs kiss 💋

“marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss”

i never really thought of marathon sex before but just imagining Rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader fucking in pogue!sweetheart!readers trailer, plus add a lil bit of vanilla + humour, soft hint strawberry scent filling the air and just kind of lovey vibes is just.. i don’t know i need it 🤭🤭

we need to kiss all of these are hot and literally perfection

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[hiraizyo]

we can go another round, maybe to a new altitude.

synopsis — having megan a whimpering mess underneath you was a craving that couldn’t be satiated.

smut, overstimulation, crying, mature language, sub!megan, reader being cruel, dirty talk (if you squint), praising.

now playing: altitude, montell fish.

a/n: ehhh i don’t really write smut that much so i hope this’ll do, happy reading!

"fuck! please, please…”

megan’s voice quivered ever so slightly once your fingers curled inside her, eyes screwed shut. her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, biting down softly as she attempted to quieten her moans.

your hand was dipped between her legs, drawing circles around her bundle of nerves, teasing her entrance every now and then.

her body was flushed, hot and sweaty. there was heat radiating off her from the past few hours of sex, her number of orgasms by now lost in her head.

you chuckled darkly, "did we learn our lesson today, darling?"

"yes, yes…” she panted, nodding rapidly. her hand moved to grip your wrist, prompting you to move faster with whatever strength she had left.

your mouth watered at the sight of her, messy hair all around the pillow, her chest rising and falling rapidly. liquid was gushing out of her, your fingers enveloped by her velvety walls. it was almost enough to make you want to forgive her.

she knew better than to make you jealous, but megan was always pushing your buttons, loving the way you fucked her as retaliation.

“i wonder what your friends would think — you, on the verge of crying, begging me like the little slut you are."

she practically dripped at the filth in your words, squeezing around your fingers. megan could feel the knot in her stomach tightening, awaiting release, awaiting the pleasure that would soon wash over her body.

she was close, so close.

megan could feel it, and she knew you could too judging by the way your thumb rubbed over her clit. the circular motion caused her hips to stutter, breath caught in her throat. you gripped her hip with your other hand, holding her down.

her head falls back against the pillow, hips rolling, eyes fluttering shut. she was lost in the ecstasy.

“oh, god!”

the feeling was unlike any other when she finally had her release, the coil in her lower stomach letting loose as she came all over your hand. you helped ride out her high, slowing down your movements.

the ginger’s hand moved up to rest her palm on her forehead, her breathing was labored as she swallowed dryly.

“you’re being such a good girl for me, megs.” you told her, the praise making her feel even more lightheaded than she already was.

she sent a tired smile your way, looking up at you with flushed cheeks and a dazed look in her eyes. she watched her movements, seeing you lick your hand clean. then, she tried to move way once she saw you moving your head downwards.

“think you can give me another?”

megan shook her head violently, “t-too much!”

“aw, come on angel.” you took a long lick up her walls, megan moaning at the feeling. her hips rolled against your mouth. despite her mind going against your request, her body had a different reaction.

you kissed her inner thigh, then biting down softly on the flesh. “what happened to being my little plaything?”

megan tried to gather her thoughts, but her mind was clouded with the aftermath of her orgasm, still coming down.

“still am,” she whimpered, tingles going up her body when she felt your hand trace on her hips. “just need a moment.”

“ah uh, no can do.” the smirk on your lips sent a jolt straight to megan’s core, knowing what was coming next. “you will take it.”

the chinese girl barely had a chance to nod in response before she felt your lips on her, licking and sucking harshly. you tongue dipped into her hole, nose bumping against her clit. the sensation had her letting out a cry of pleasure.

as you continued your ministrations, megan knew you were going into overdrive. tears appeared at the bottom of her eyes, threatening to fall. her whimpers were like music to your ears, feeling pride swell in your chest at the fact that it was you having her act like this.

her legs were place placed over your shoulders, heels digging into your back. megan’s hand moved down to your head, tangling her fingers in your hair.

you moaned against her, the vibrations brining her closer to the edge of release. her cries were nothing but louder than ever, throat feeling raw from all the screaming she’d done.

her muscles began to tense up, and you knew that she was close to cumming again. megan’s whole body was shaking, the tears running down her cheeks at the pain and pleasure.

“i-i can’t… fuck, yn.” she whined, tugging on your hair. the overstimulation was getting to her, while you relished in having a taste of her.

it didn’t take long before megan’s orgasm hit her, taking control of her body and mind. her eyes screwed shut, she moaned loudly, gasping and letting out shuttered breaths. you lapped at the juices that leaked out of her, taking as much as you possibly could.

you placed a kiss to her clit making her shiver. slowly moving her legs carefully off your shoulder, you kissed up her body until you reached her lips. your hands were on either side of her, settling your body above hers.

the kiss was filled with passion, megan tasting herself on her lips while you tasted the salty tears. pulling away, you smiled down at her.

“you did so well, my love.”

tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ear, you looked in her eyes with such love that she couldn’t even believe how evil you were being to her a second ago. she hummed, peering up at hazily you, too fucked out to say anything back.

you kissed her nose, then her cheek, and all over her face until you reached jaw and neck. megan’s nails hand scratched the base of your neck where your baby hairs were, giggling at the tickling sensation of your kisses.

“come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” you told her, getting off the bed and gently lifting her up, carrying her into the bathroom where you’d draw her a bath.

lol whatever this is…

quick post while i take a break and think of other fun stuff to write, since i have a sophia imagine in mind <3 but i fear the megan obsession is getting to me

[canyonmooncreations]

I can’t stop thinking about bratty princess reader x bodyguards 141

Something something your life is ruined now that your father has hired four broody body guards to be with you at all times. They usually rotate shifts, one staying with you at all times.

Sometimes events call for three of them or all of them. So when it’s time for a royal ball and three of them are needed, Simon opts to sit this one out in hopes to avoid the uncomfortable socialization.

After the ball, John stays at the palace with you and Kyle and Johnny join Simon back at their residence. Simon is absolutely baffled when the boys don’t shut up about how bratty you were and the major attitude adjustment you need.

Talking about how you refused to follow directions, even when they were for your safety. Refused to buckle up in the car and struggled so much that Johnny had to hold you down while Kyle buckled you up. Pouting the rest of the way home. Refused to eat dinner at the ball and insisted they stop at a drive through even though that wasn’t on your itinerary. Threatening to get them fired if they don’t take you.

The boys go on and on about your behavior and Simon just listens, dumbfounded.

“What’s that face for Riley? She even worse with you?” Johnny asks with a frustrated tone.

Simon shakes his head. “No attitude for me.”

The boys both start laughing. There’s no way that’s true. You’re truly a spoiled rotten brat, they think. There’s no way that he’s serious.

They never believe him until there’s an event that calls for all four of them. Simon’s with you at the palace while you get ready. The three boys pull up out front ready for you to join.

They watch as you walk nicely to the car and climb into the middle settling in next to Johnny. Simon climbs in after you. The boys are ready for the battle of asking you to buckle up.

“Buckle, princess” Simon grumbles.

“Yes, Mr. Riley.” The car goes silent. Johnny and Kyle look like their eyes are about to pop out of their head. John doesn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed red.

The car ride is silent. The boys are too shocked to say anything. Since when did you have manners and the ability to follow instructions? John drives with a grin on his face. Simon is unphased as you rest your head on his shoulder.

At the event, you are on your best behavior. You eat your food, move when instructed to move, and smile the whole time. The boys are genuinely so shocked at this new side of you. They watch in awe as Simon approaches you and the ever present feisty look is no where to be found.

“Ready to go?” Simon asks softly.

“Can we please stay a little longer?” You ask so kindly. Simon nods and finds his protective position.

“Did she just say please?” Johnny asked exasperated.

“She doesn’t even know what that word means!?!?” Kyle is just as shocked. John just chuckles and shakes his head.

They then watch as minutes pass and you gently tap Simon and tell him you are ready to leave.

When you get to the car, Johnny decides to put this to the test. Simon gets you in the car and closes the door to talk to the event staff before leaving.

“Buckle up sweetheart.” Johnny instructs.

You give him a polite nod and buckle up quickly. John lets out a chuckle and before Johnny can’t say anything before Simon is joining them in the car. “Bloody hell.” is all that is heard as the car falls silent.

On the way home, you lean over the Simon and ask if you could stop for ice cream. He replies with a simple “No, princess” and is met with no reaction from you. A slight nod and your head falls back against his shoulder.

Kyle is about to lose it. You threatening to get them fired if they didn’t take you through the drive through the other day. What the fuck has Simon done to you??

Something something and now it’s the end of the night. Simon has got you settled into bed and walks into the castle living room to review how tonight went with the security team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Johnny and Kyle stare at him as if he’s accomplished the impossible.

“Told ya, no attitude with me.”

John chuckles and pats Simon on the back as he grins.

A/n: is this dumb?? It’s been eating my brain for a four hour car ride 😭😭

[na0koz]

Toxic jinx finding out that your a virgin and taking your virginity/ how she would handle it

toxic!jinx masterlist

MDNI. cw: top jinx, that’s kind of it..

she would like that a lot.

all jinx wants to do, when you boil it down, is to claim you as hers. to prove you belong to her. taking your virginity is honestly like the highest way to do this, in her books at least.

she’d want to do literally everything to you that same night. she wants you to experience everything, and always remember her as your first, no matter what it is.

jinx will start off gentle, with something you’re likely familiar with already: using her fingers on you. she’ll keep to the outside of your dripping pussy at first, teasing you as you whine and twitch under her grip, until finally she plunges one of her fingers into your hole.

she loves watching how you react to things, especially things she does. this is like her dream. to see exactly how she can make you feel good. she adds another finger, and starts to fuck them in and out of you.

you whimper and hide your face in her neck, embarrassed by how sensitive you were already just from some simple teasing, as well as the lewd position she had you in. legs spread in her lap, holding your wrists in her free hand up by your chest. she coaxes your face back out with her free hand clutched to your jaw.

“wanna see you, baby.” she sounds stern yet her voice drips with sweetness, with love.

though, jinx doesn’t make you cum. not yet. she can’t have you tapping out when she’s barely even started. her first objective is to learn exactly what you like and what gets you whining so sweetly into her ear.

she gently manipulates your limbs into a new position, on your back with your legs spread wide. she lays on her stomach between your thighs, grinning to herself as she finds herself face to face with your pussy, puffy and glistening from how her fingers felt around it minutes before.

her breath ghosts your thighs, making you twitch under her tight grip on your hips. she giggles slightly at your reaction.

“let me get a taste of you, ‘kay?” jinx asks, looking up at your with wide eyes. she wants this and you can hear it in her voice, feel it in the air.

you nod and she grins again. she leans into you and kisses your clit, the sensation coursing through you. your back arches off the bed before she pushes you back down. can’t have you running off.

finally, jinx starts to eat you out, and god is she good. you’re not really sure where she got all the experience from, but you really couldn’t care less when she was unravelling you on her tongue. as she prodded and poked your desperate hole, you got closer and closer to your release.

she can’t take it anymore, she just has to make you cum. she needs to see how you move, what sounds you make, how your pussy takes it.

she coaxes your orgasm out with her skilled sucks and licks, revelling in the taste of you only getting better as you cum over her chin and into her mouth.

jinx honestly feels like she could pass out right now. she’s dreamt of this so many times, not that she’d tell you, she thinks it would scare you a little.

she grins and laps up your release. you swear you hear her humming an ‘mmm’ sound. you feel like she’s gonna beg you to do this a lot now you’ve let her break the seal of your first time.

she looks up at you with wide eyes as she licked the last drops of you from her lips.

“you like that, hm baby?”

you nod frantically, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you don’t think you’ll mind if jinx wants to do this to you every single day.

she grins to herself for the millionth time that night while mentally patting herself on the back for making you cum the first time round.

when she crawls backs up to you to cradle your head, jinx notices your teary eyes drooping. as your breathing slows, she takes it upon herself to clean you up and get you dressed. she is surprisingly good at doing this without waking you, almost suspiciously.

she thinks she’ll let you sleep before she tries anything else on you.

[luciferanalyzestar]

I was cleaning and reorganizing my room, but I am taking a break to watch this. Also, what is going on with the thumbnails? Since Full Moon, they are getting more and more cluttered. Less is more.

Live reaction time, sad yippee.

That moment when you realize you have a WHOLE ASS DAUGHTER!

She is so real for this. Stella's VA always slays her lines, love her performance.

My new favorite background characters!! In love with the waiter imp's design. The background characters always look better than the main/speaking characters.

Okay, Moxxie and Millie are just yapping and being horny for each other, and I am just confused. What the fuck is happening? Visual noise. The M&Ms are my least favorite canon couple. maybe I will like them when Millie gets character outside of her husband.

Me when I buy too much stuff.

The joke is: She is homophobic. Since this sinner's situation is similar to what is going on with Blitz/Stolas/Stella? Is Stella going to be reveal to be homophobic? /lhj

Yes Via, your father is horny fetishizer who is a liar. Stolas is a bad father for not caring about his daughter and her wellbeing. He only cares about Blitz and his sexual desires. If my father or mother pulled something like this, I would not talk to them again. This is straight up abandonment.

When a stan sees a negative opinion about the Hellaverse.

Finally, Stolas says what we all been thinking, HE IS FUCKING STUPID. I guess being poor help wake up Stolas' braincells.

What in the fanfic? Anyway, the guy is a cheater, but they would have to kill the kids too. This does not seem like a Murder Family situation where the whole family was sick and twisted.

You are pregnant. What in the double fanfic?

Blitz throwing the sinner out the window made me giggle. Love jokes like that. See, it is possible for this show to be funny with swearing up a storm.

I hate Andy more than Stolas. Andy deserved that shit. Stolas beating the brakes off of Andy made me laugh. Why wouldn't Stolas be cool instead of being a UWU gay man?

What in the yaoi?

Loona is like a Dragon Ball character, how many forms does she got? This is for all the middle school wolf kids. The multiple eyes look dumb though.

I no longer like men. I'm homophobic now. Helluva made me hate men. /j

YES, VIA TELL HIS ASS OFF!!!!!! GET HIS ASS!!! RIP HIM A NEW ONE!!!! On an off note, Via's lines sound weird. I'm listening to the show via a Bluetooth speaker, and it sounds likes her VA was recording her lines in a closet to something. Especially the "chance to leave" part, I do not know I would be tripping.

Anyway, there is nothing wrong with cutting out toxic family members. Stolas was too busy getting his asshole tickled by Blitz to spend time with his daughter whose life was crumbling around her. I am tired of Stolas' bitch ass crying. Shut up. You should have drowned in that bathtub.

Loona has friends!!!??? I wish that was an episode of Loona finding friends instead of cringe episodes for people who have not grown out of the fujoshi middle school phase.

This show is jumping the shark. You know the writers are running out of ideas when they make one of the characters pregnant. At least make a male character pregnant, SWITCH IT UP!

Omg, this hellhound is like me for real, I own a pair of cheery earrings. Her design is peak like the other background characters. Someone please save her from this show.

YEP! :D Blitz misses Barbie so much that she has not made an appearance since. She really hates his ass that she removed herself from the show. I hope Blitz trips, taking Stolas with him and they both die and go into a better show with better writing.

RATING TIME: 4.5/10

I had more time cleaning and reorganizing my room than watching this episode. I felt nothing watching certain parts. The only moments I cared for was the ones with Via because of the leak storyboards of this episode. It seems like nothing was changed unlike what happen to Ghostfuckers.

Will I be watching season three? Viv said that season 3 take a while to be released and it is going to be 15 episodes long.

That would be around 2026. I do not know if I want to be watching this show when I am 25 years old. The writing choices of this show are baffling. I think (do not quote me on this) but Viv said season three will focus on the Ars Goetia in an interview which sounds boring. I do not care about their rich classist society. Is Helluva going to be Bridgerton but in Hell?

I can see myself watching Hazbin when I am 25 because there are AUs that I can indulge in when the show's writing gets worse and has like 1000 plots going on, if I do not care for one, I can pay attention to another one. Helluva's main plot point is just Stolas and Blitz, and I am bored of them. I dislike both of them as characters and as a couple/

I don't care for the rest of IMP, Fizz, Ozzie, Bee, Sallie Mae, Striker, and etc and their storylines. The only character I like is Mammon and Via and they do not appear that much.

Talking about this show is a chore. I had fun watching this show back in 2022 (I'm late to the fandom) but now, it is just a chore to sit though. The main plot is boring, and the side plots are the same recycle stuff. I have more fun reading the back label of shampoo bottles than watching this show.

[dollieseo]

01. PAINT IT BLACK ⸻ DECEMBER 12TH, 2017

now playing. paint it black (epic trailer version) by hidden citizens

chapter summary. you’ve always avoided the world your father built. meeting minjeong, or winter, is the last thing you want. she’s cold and calculated, and she’s there to make you know that there’s no such thing as running forever.

chapter warnings. none

word count. 1.3k

you met kim minjeong officially when you were sixteen years old. everyone in and out of the organization know her as winter. she’s supposed to be “cold as ice” or some shit like that. honestly, you don’t care what her name is or what it means.

she works for your dad, apparently as an extremely skilled swordswoman, efficient enough in other aspects to be highly respected too. you try to stay as far away from your father’s work as possible. the only reason you were at his office that day was because you, in a rush this morning, forgot your keys at home before you left for school. until you get his set, you're locked out of the house. you’re expecting to get in and get out; take two minutes to pick up the keys, go home and take a goddamn nap. already feeling uneasy in the building of his workplace, your nerves intensify when you notice the figure sitting at your father’s desk isn’t your father in his office.

you pause when you see her, caught off guard by the unexpected interaction. you’ve never actually spoken to winter, but because of your father, you know about each other. you know her as your father’s second in command, despite being only sixteen herself. minjeong knows you because—well, everyone in the organization knows you. all your father ever talks about, that isn’t work related, is how much of an amazing addition to the organization you’ll be once you finally come around.

you won’t. you and him both know that.

clearly, your entrance catches her attention, her dark eyes piercing through yours. though you’re still caught in a moment of surprise, you don’t fail to notice how cold her eyes are. fitting for someone named winter.

you’re not at all surprised by her demeanor. you expect nothing less from someone your father views so highly, even while being a teenage girl. she, for sure, looks the part of a mafia executive.

you regain your composure, remembering your original task. standing straight, you break the sharp silence, “what are you doing in here?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway.

“i should be asking you that,” winter retorts, “considering you just barged in.” her voice was laced with snark and curiosity. your father never mentioned anything to her about calling you in. assuming you willingly came here on your own, she wonders why, knowing of your disdain for this “business”.

you shrug, simultaneously scrunching your face, “don’t think i really need to give you an explanation.” of course you don’t. you could basically run this place if you wanted to. “where’s my dad?”

winter watches your reaction with a quiet amusement, her eyes narrowing just slightly, as if she’s trying to analyze you. everyone she comes across is intimidated by her, but not you. maybe that’s what she finds so fascinating. the way you’re not playing along to whatever game she’s used to.

“he’s in a meeting, should be back in an hour.”

fucking great.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh. there’s no way you want around here for sixty minutes. hell, even thirty would be pushing it. but, with no keys, it’s either wait here or wait outside in fifty degree weather.

your eyes flicker towards the door, then back to winter, who's still lounging in your father's chair like she owns the place.

"just my fucking luck," you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm. "all i wanted to do was go home and sleep, but of course, here i am. stuck in this shitty building, waiting for my piece of shit dad, while his right-hand girl..." you glance at her pointedly. "...plays executive."

you don’t expect her to react, but she does. her lips curl into a faint smirk, just enough to let you know she’s listening. she doesn’t look offended, or even upset. she seems more... indifferent. like she’s used to people throwing jabs her way. the young brunette crosses her arms, leaning back in the chair. "it’s not as bad as you make it seem, you know," she says, her voice low. "boss man expects you to be here eventually. whether you want to or not."

you freeze, the words catching you off guard. not because of what she said, but because of the way she said it. you can feel her eyes drilling into you like she’s dissecting your every move, reading something deeper than just your actions. it's unsettling, to say the least.

"right," you mutter, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation settle deeper in your chest. "and you expect me to just... sit here and play nice? like this is normal?" you gesture between the two of you.

winter’s eyes shift towards the clock, then back at you. "i’m not asking you to do anything," she says calmly. "but you don’t really have much of a choice, do you?"

you open your mouth, but the words don’t come right away. you want to protest; snap back, to say something—anything that could shatter this strange assurance she’s has.

“get up,” you gesture with your right hand. winter cocks her head like a lost puppy, an eyebrow slightly raised. you can’t help but roll your eyes, feeling as if you’re speaking to a small child.

“out of the chair,” you growl, frustration with her shining through.

winter doesn’t move for a long moment. her eyes narrow slightly, studying you as if she’s trying to figure out whether you're serious or not. you stand there, waiting, arms crossed, refusing to back down. the air between you is thick with a strange kind of tension—like there’s a game being played, but neither of you knows the rules.

finally, with a faint sigh, she spins the chair back around, facing away from the desk. "you’re incredibly stubborn for someone who claims she doesn’t belong here," she mutters tiredly, no real malice in her voice. it’s more like an observation. you take a step closer, dragging your feet just enough to make the silence feel even more awkward. her body language is stiff, controlled, but you can’t help but notice the slight tension in her shoulders.

you slide into the chair, deciding not to comment on her conclusion about you. instead, you pull out your phone, checking the time. the silence between the two of you grows for moments way too long for your comfort, but you can feel her eyes on you, watching you with that cold, calculating stare that seems so in character to her.

that’s what winter seems like to you; a character.

“i don’t know why you think your father’s world is some sort of... inconvenience to you. you think you can just avoid it, pretend like it won’t eventually pull you in? that’s not how it works.” she watches you closely as she speaks, her eyes dark with something like amusement or pity—maybe both.

winter’s lips curl into a small as she goes on and on, recounting her experience in the organization like it’s something to be proud of, speaking about how she’s earned every inch of respect and every piece of responsibility. how she’s built a reputation that’s both feared and admired, how she holds power in ways most people don’t even understand. it’s sounds almost rehearsed, like she’s replayed every moment that got her here in her head every single day.

“you aren’t special yn,” winter continues, voice cutting through your silence. “you can’t just stay on the sidelines in a world that your father created, whether you asked for it or not.” she pauses for a moment, letting the words hang in the air, her gaze unwavering.

the casual way she speaks makes it all feel like a warning, but not the kind you expect. she’s not threatening you—she’s just telling you how it is.

you can’t tell if she’s trying to convince you to join her side, or if she’s just giving you a reality check. either way, it’s starting to feel a lot less like an innocent conversation and a lot more like a negotiation.

the air in the room feels heavier, like the walls are closing in, and you’re just one bad move away from being swallowed up in this twisted world you’ve been trying so hard to stay away from.

you think waiting outside might be a better idea.

[peachhcs]

Samy’s reaction to the sharks music video lol

that video was genuinely the best thing i’ve ever seen actually HAHA i lowkey want that merry sharkmas sweater..

au masterlist

“hey have you seen this?” hannah came out of her room into the kitchen where samy was at the island working on her homework. the youngest hughes raised her eye fire, “what?”

“this video that just came up on my feed,” hannah shoved her phone into her roommates face, forcing samy to finally look. it took her a second to figure out what she was looking at but she finally realized it was a video the san jose sharks just posted.

the immediate music playing quickly caught her attention as her eyes widened, “holy shit. is this a music video?” she giggled when the boys started singing and then patrick marleau appeared.

“oh. my. god.” both of the girls were at a loss for words. will eklund started rapping a verse and they immediately lost it, especially when will and macklin kept appearing during the chorus’s in quickly clips.

“no fucking way they made this! oh my god,” samy couldn’t get over it. hannah was a laughing mess beside her as each of the players took turns rapping their own verse. when jack thompson came on she lost it too.

“your boyfriend is insane for this,” hannah nudged her friend, becoming slightly disappointed when they realized will or macklin weren’t gonna rap a verse.

“inflattablesss,” hannah tried matching the pitch of the rough auto tune.

“i have to call will now,” samy reached for her phone, quickly realizing that will had already texted her about the video.

WILL SMITH

have you seen the video yet?

she immediately called him instead of responding. hannah had it going on repeat when the call connected.

“guess what we just watched,” the girl showed the phone with the video playing still. a bright blush hit the boy’s features.

“what do you think?” he wondered.

“i’m disappointed you or macklin didn’t wanna rap a verse. eklund and thompson killed it,” samy said.

“i..i..i’m not much of a singer. you know this,” will tried defending himself.

“dude. if eklund and thompson could do that, you for sure could’ve. this is hilarious,” hannah cut in, laughter continuing to escape her lips.

“maybe next year i will,” the hockey player chuckled.

“i thought it was hilarious too. it’s the way you and macklin just appear for a few seconds during each chorus,” samy giggled and will was glad she at least liked the video because he was super nervous about it dropping and her not liking it.

“i’m sure lean and gabo will tell me the same thing,” the blonde hummed.

“oh, they’re gonna eat this up. don’t worry,” samy already knew those two would have a ball watching their friend in the video and all of his teammates. “i’m inspired to do this with our team,” she said.

“you totally should, honestly. it will really bring morale up,” the blonde grinned.

“i’m sure it will. i’ll make a note of it,” the couple shared a smile and then proceeded to listen to hannah watch it for the 3rd time on the touch still busting into laughter each time the rap came on.

“at least someone really likes it,” will said.

“don’t worry, she’ll be watching it for the next hour probably. me too though,” samy added.

[v3nusxsky]

Can you do dominating Larissa and subby reader, reader is a surgeon, that is putting her kid in Larissa's school and is a single mother and starts looking at Larissa like she's a chew toy, but Larissa asks about reader's job and reader starts explain what she does and Larissa gets lost in all of it but loves hearing reader talk. And pulls reader into a kiss. Reader is tall and curvy. Maybe gp? Please also reader is head of cardiothoracic surgery. I love your work Mars keep it up. Thank youuuu

My heart surgeon

*Authors note~ this is a super cute. I’m sorry I changed the request but I couldn’t seem to get any smut to flow and I just hope I can do it some justice but medical knowledge is not my specialty so Google was heavily relied on*

Trigger warnings~ medical talk, reader is a cardiologist surgeon, fluffy

Prompt~ see ask^^^

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Raising an Empath as a single parent was no easy feat. Couple that with your career and well, you were spread thin. Years of medical school and practice as a fully qualified surgeon couldn’t prepare you enough for parenthood. Knowing your child could feel pain of those around them being discovered when they visited you at the hospital. Watching your child scream in pain and being helpless near enough killed you. It was then you realised, as much as you love them, you couldn’t give them the best chance at understanding their abilities. One place could though. Even if it meant leaving your child alone at school for the first time in your life.

The first letter they wrote to you was informing you of parents weekend. Intelligence ran high in your bloodline so it was to no surprise that your sweet thoughtful child reminded you it was okay if you were busy saving lives. They would live. But it wasn’t something you were prepared to miss out on, after weeks of not being able to hold them in your arms and tell them you love them was affecting you more than you thought even though you knew they’d began to settle in well thanks to Larissa Weems, the beautiful principal, informing you of the progress within the first few weeks.

Long shifts are something you’ve grown use to. So you chalked up your reaction to her voice as sleep deprivation. It was the only thing that made sense after just finishing a long surgery on a child not much older than your own, your own emotions wearing on you. Parents weekend allowed you to put a face to the voice… well you were fucked. And not in the way you wanted to be. Her voice was just as angelic as the first time, and her whole self? Stunning. You couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful woman. If she taught you then you were sure you’d be failing her class due to being so star struck by her. It was only when your beautifully insightful child informed you that your emotions were “weirding them out” and to stop staring at the woman like she was your next meal that you realised. You definitely have a problem. With a muttered apology you attempted to hide your wandering eyes more.

The second she started to approach you and your child you assumed you’d died and gone to heaven. No way had a beautiful woman choose to speak to a workaholic surgeon with a teen child. What was the appeal? You didn’t have much time to wonder about it, soon enough you were engaged in conversation with the woman. Blushing as she complimented what a lovely child you had raised, a true blessing to Nevermore.

It’s a bad habit, but you tend to take work home with you. Something your own child found frustrating was how you would immediately start to ramble about work and how your day had been. Obviously confidentiality had to be kept thanks to HIPPA yet still somehow you never ran out of things to say about such a rewarding job. “Mom” you groaned unhappily at the choice of topic. You missed her. But still work talk was never fascinating to you. Embarrassment at the fact your own principal was being subjected to all the medical jargon you threw her way, all while your eyes wandering over her frame. “Mommmm” you whined again nudging her while signing, “you’re doing it again mama.”

Larissa Weems was fascinated. The words just rolled off your tongue with an ease that she couldn’t help but admire. Truthfully, she’d used her contacts to find out about you the moment you enrolled your child, the name ringing familiar in her ears. Hearing the way you spoke so passionately about your work and the intricacies of the heart her suspicions were supported even more. You had done her surgery a few years ago after the dreaded nightshade poisoning had almost killed her. Memories of waking up and being told they had to get the best of the best to complete her surgery yet a brand new surgeon to the professional spotted the damaged and effectively saved the shifters life. Stuck in your on going rant of information, you seemed oblivious as the connection dawned on her.

“I see the immediate and life-changing results of your work, but my role is demanding yet completely worth it. It’s more than just cutting into people. I meet with patients and their families to discuss and explain procedures and offer reassurance. It’s massively important to be crystal clear, empathetic and warm is vital for success in my line of work. As well as performing surgery, I am involved in the treatment and management of many different conditions within this speciality. I may need to attend outpatient clinics, multidisciplinary team meetings and ward rounds.” You rambled on about what you knew best and before you knew it the other woman was so overcome by emotions that she tugged you close to her by your curvy hips and crashed her lips to yours.

The rest of your words died on your tongue as you processed what was happening before moving to place your hands on her shoulders, savouring the kiss before pulling away slightly flushed and confused. “Larissa, I “ you muttered dumbly, “what a way to shut a girl up.” Gazing into her cyan blue eyes it suddenly hit you. This is the woman who practically caused your career to fly. That fateful night where you made one observation in hopes to save a life was now coming back to you in violent flashes. “Larissa as in shifter who was on my OR table a few years ago? That Larissa?” Causing your child to sigh, everything relates to work, and well the emotions coming off you both were truly too much so you did what you could do best, slip away and allow the women to catch up while you tried to convince yourself and friendship group that your mother most definitely hasn’t kissed your principal.

Word count ~ 1016

[mono-blogs-art]

Pluto episode 10 is excellent and thank fucking god, the truth is finally out. May and Ai can finally see eye to eye (literally) and I loved the way the confession happened - May didn't orchestrate some weird plan to get to Ai again, no, Ai came back by herself because she can't let go. Because she's trying to bear all the burden and renounce all that was given to her but still, she can't help but want to leave a mark. Know that May is loved by her, and find some quiet comfort in knowing that in turn, maybe, Ai can be loved too. And so then, running into May was mere bad luck, or karma.

I wasn't a big fan of how the show had May regain her vision and deliberately choose not to tell Ai - for reasons beyond me, it's not like that would change anything about her original plan anyway. It's unnecessary and feels shitty in a way that takes me out of the immersion a bit, but I can also somehow see how it's in character for May, who needs to mastermind and control the narrative and thus, Ai's reactions. Well, she didn't calculate that Ai would just, not react at all and run away and leave her. Her plan failed. So she had no choice but to finally tell the truth. I wish just a tiny bit that May would have been more direct and just outright said everything to her face, but I also really liked the detail of her pulling the motorcycle keys out and just looking Ai straight in the eyes for that reveal. Very fun way to do that. The emotional breakdown afterwards was very raw and cathartic - May has already forgiven herself for what she did, but can Ai forgive her? And can Ai forgive herself? I love that we see those questions asked and answered explicitly because fuck yes, that guilt is exactly what's keeping this whole net of lies intact.

Now May and Aioon can meet for real, and start anew. And I'm very excited to see how they do it!

In the meantime, Oom - I owe you an apology. I said in the beginning of watching the show that you are the worse twin but I may have given you an unfair treatment. You are a bit of an ass, yeah, but you care. There's still 2 more episodes to go and the only mystery yet to be solved is the original question of "Who is behind Oom's accident?" so I know that the next two episodes will feature Oom heavily, and so my opinion is subject to change, but I'm once again in awe of how much this show let's its characters breathe and live, and I think I like Oom. In her own way, she's trying her best to do right by her grandma, her love, herself, and of course, her big sis.

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Twenty: Freckles Of Deceit SS: - (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 6.1K Content Warnings:

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As Chan and Ayame descend the stairs, their hands clasped together, Ayame huffs quietly, her heels clicking against the polished wood. Chan's grip tightens slightly each time she takes a step, as though she might faceplant at any moment.

"Seriously," Ayame says, throwing him an exasperated glance. "I practically live in stilettos. Your knight-in-shining-armour act is wasted on me."

"I'm being a gentleman," Chan retorts, not letting go. "And this is the thanks I get? Unbelievable. You're mean, shortcake."

"At least I'm consistent," Ayame quips, tugging lightly against his grip as if testing his resolve. Spoiler: he doesn't let go.

At the bottom of the staircase, Ayame stops abruptly, causing Chan to bump into her slightly. She turns to face him, narrowing her eyes. "Your tie's crooked."

"I'm not falling for that one again," Chan says immediately, taking a step back. "You're gonna pull it tight like you're in the fucking mafia, aren't you?"

Ayame rolls her eyes, stepping closer anyway. "You're impossible. It's actually crooked, genius. Stay still."

Chan stays frozen, watching her fingers deftly adjust the knot. She works quickly, her eyes focused, and he feels the warmth of her hands brushing against his chest through the fabric of his shirt. When she steps back, she tilts her head, inspecting her handiwork.

"There. Fixed," she says, satisfied.

"No attempted strangulation?" Chan teases, his voice low, as his hands move to rest lightly on her arms.

Ayame smirks up at him. "Nope. I need you alive for later. Dead men can't do all the things I'm imagining right now."

Chan barks out a laugh, his grip on her arms tightening slightly. "No more discount Chan?"

Ayame shakes her head, her smirk softening into something more genuine. "Nope. I prefer the real thing."

Chan's grin falters for a moment as something warm flickers in his gaze. His eyes flicker down to her dress, lingering for a beat before he meets her eyes again. "You look gorgeous in this, by the way. It matches your eyes."

Ayame blinks, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. She's about to reply when a high-pitched, cheerful voice cuts through the moment.

"Chris!"

They both turn toward the source, and a petite, elegant woman strides toward them. She's dressed in a form-fitting navy dress, her dark hair swept into an effortless updo. Her face lights up as she closes the distance, pulling Chan into a tight hug.

"Hi, Ma," Chan greets, his voice softer as he wraps an arm around her.

"You made it!" Jess exclaims, pulling back slightly to pat his cheek. "You didn't even text me when you got here, you brat."

"I got distracted," Chan says, glancing at Ayame with a sheepish grin.

Jess follows his gaze, her eyes landing on Ayame. Her smile widens instantly. "Oh! And who's this?"

Ayame steps forward, extending her hand. "I'm Ayame. It's so nice to meet you, Dr. Bang."

Jess waves off the title with a laugh. "Oh, call me Jess, please. 'Dr. Bang' makes me sound like I'm about to perform a colonoscopy. And finally, I get to meet you!" Jess takes Ayame's hands in hers, her grip warm and firm. "She's just adorable, Chris. I'm keeping her. Forever."

Ayame lets out a nervous laugh, glancing at Chan. He's grinning like the Cheshire Cat, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. "Uh, thanks. That's very... sweet."

"Sweet, smart, beautiful," Jess says, tilting her head as she examines Ayame with the precision of a seasoned surgeon. "What else am I missing?"

"I'm really good at Mario Kart," Ayame offers weakly.

Jess laughs, delighted. "Oh, I like her, Chris. I like her so much."

Chan shrugs, his voice laced with amusement. "Told you she was a catch."

Jess glances between them, her smile growing sly. "Well, don't just stand here. The rest of the family is going to love her."

"Oh no," Ayame mutters under her breath, shooting a glare at Chan who smirks. "You set me up."

The snow drifts softly down, landing on Ayame's hair and shoulders as she adjusts her green dress. Sitting next to Chan in the front row, she sneaks a glance at his father, Jack, whose expression is as cold as the weather. Jess sits on Chan's other side, beaming, a stark contrast to her husband's stone-like demeanour.

Jack leans over, his voice low and sharp. "Didn't think you'd show up. Not after the last time."

Chan's jaw tightens, but before he can respond, Jess places a gentle hand on her husband's arm. "Jack," she says brightly, deflecting. "This is Ayame, Chris's date."

Jack's gaze shifts to Ayame, scanning her from head to toe with a barely concealed frown. "You look young," he says bluntly, before turning his attention back to the aisle as if she isn't worth another second.

Ayame blinks, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity. She leans toward Chan, whispering, "Your dad makes you look like a fucking Care Bear."

Chan stifles a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. "A Care Bear?"

"Yeah," Ayame murmurs, glancing at Jack. "But like... the kind that eats children in its free time."

Chan shakes with silent laughter, his shoulders vibrating against hers. "Stop," he hisses under his breath. "You're going to get me in trouble."

"You're already in trouble," Ayame replies smugly. "Might as well have fun while we're here."

The opening chords of the wedding march begin to play, drawing their attention to the aisle. Felix appears at the far end, his tailored black tuxedo fitting him like a glove. The lights reflect off his perfectly styled blonde hair, and his freckles give him a boyish charm that balances his sharp, sophisticated look.

Ayame leans toward Chan, her voice soft but teasing. "Your brother cleans up well. Too bad he's not single."

Chan gives her a sidelong glance. "Don't even think about it, shortcake. He's a good guy. You'd ruin him."

Ayame pretends to sigh dramatically. "Damn. There goes my chance at happiness."

"Play some Bonnie Tyler," Chan mutters. "Where have all the good men gone?"

Ayame snickers, biting her lip to keep from laughing too loudly.

The flower girl starts down the aisle, her tiny hands flinging petals with wild abandon. Half of them don't even land on the aisle, but her determined expression earns her a collective "aww" from the crowd.

"She's adorable," Ayame whispers, her tone genuinely warm.

"Not as adorable as you freezing your ass off," Chan retorts, noticing her arms crossed tightly against the chill.

"I'm fine," Ayame insists, her teeth chattering faintly. "You wanted me to wear this dress because it's booby, so I'm toughing it out."

Chan doesn't reply with words. Instead, he wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The warmth of his body seeps through her thin dress, and Ayame allows herself to lean into him slightly, though she refuses to admit it feels good.

"Better?" he asks, smirking.

"Shut up," she mutters, though her lips twitch upward.

As Soojin appears at the end of the aisle, Ayame's attention shifts. The bride is radiant in a sparkling white gown that hugs her figure before flaring into a dramatic train. Her glossy hair and flawless makeup scream perfection, and Felix's expression lights up with pure adoration as she approaches.

Jess dabs at her eyes with a tissue, whispering, "She looks so beautiful."

"She does," Ayame agrees, then leans toward Chan, her voice low. "But, uh, has she got lip fillers?"

Chan doesn't miss a beat. "And Botox. Half her face is frozen. She's had everything done—lips, jawline, cheekbones. Her face is worth more than my car. Probably wouldn't even dent if she was shot out of a cannon into a tree."

Ayame chokes back a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. "You're such a gossip."

"Stick with me, shortcake," Chan replies, his tone light. "There's plenty more where that came from."

As the ceremony begins, Ayame shifts in her seat, trying to stay warm and interested. Chan notices her restlessness and leans closer. "Bored already?"

"I thought weddings were supposed to be fun," Ayame mutters, glancing at him.

Chan smirks. "Not when my father and Soojin's father paid for it, and her mom planned the whole thing. That woman has the personality of unbuttered toast."

Ayame grins, leaning into him slightly. "I like this side of you—the honest, slightly bitter Chan. Feels real."

He chuckles, his thumb brushing her shoulder absentmindedly. "Stick around, and you'll see all my sides."

As Felix and Soojin exchange their vows, Ayame tilts her head, watching the scene unfold. Despite her usual cynicism, she feels a small tug at her heart. She glances at Chan, who's watching his brother with quiet pride.

"I bet you'd make a good groom," she whispers, the words slipping out before she can stop them.

Chan's gaze flicks to her, his smirk softening into something gentler. "Maybe. But I think I'd need a pretty great partner for that."

Ayame raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching. "Good luck finding one."

Chan grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I think I'm on the right track."

Ayame stands by the bar, clutching an empty champagne flute in one hand. A waiter glides past, and with the precision of a seasoned wedding attendee, she snags a fresh glass of champagne. She barely raises it to her lips when a voice slices through the pleasant hum of the reception.

"Felix's family is driving me fucking insane. Please tell me you have a joint hidden somewhere."

Ayame turns to see Soojin, the bride herself, standing next to her. She's stunning, of course, with her gown catching the light like a goddamn diamond commercial. But there's a sharpness in her gaze and a mischievous curl to her lips that Ayame immediately respects.

"Oh, I fucking wish," Ayame replies, a grin tugging at her mouth.

Soojin sighs dramatically, leaning against the bar like a damsel in distress. "Meth, then? Rat poison? Any controlled substance to get me through another conversation with Dr. Jack Bang."

Ayame laughs, shaking her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Just champagne over here."

Soojin clicks her tongue. "Ugh, you're so boring. But thanks for not lying to me. Everyone else keeps telling me how perfect everything is. Even my mother-in-law is acting like I didn't veto half her ideas."

Ayame chuckles. "It's a beautiful wedding, though."

Soojin waves her off, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, thanks. I had to threaten the florist's firstborn to make it happen, but sure. Anyway, you're Ayame, right?"

Ayame freezes for half a second but nods, holding her glass a little tighter. "That's me."

Soojin gives her a knowing look, her smile widening. "I've been dying to meet you. Felix keeps saying you're the reason Chris actually showed up today."

Ayame blinks, caught off guard. "I'm pretty sure that's not true."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it is," Soojin replies, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "Chris doesn't come to family stuff unless someone drags him there. And, babe, you've got 'dragged him here' written all over you."

Ayame forces a small laugh, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I guess I'm doing my part."

Soojin's gaze sharpens, her smile turning sly. "Worked out for the best, though, right? I mean, Chris and I were never a good match."

Ayame's brain stalls. "Sorry—what?"

Soojin tilts her head, her expression turning playful. "Oh my god. He didn't tell you, did he? Chris and I dated for, like, a year."

Ayame's stomach flips. "A year?" she echoes, her voice carefully neutral.

Soojin nods, laughing lightly. "Yeah, back when Felix and I were just friends. Honestly, Chris and I never really clicked. It was always... I don't know, surface-level? But Felix? We just made sense in every way. Once we figured that out, everything fell into place."

Ayame stares at her, every muscle in her body tightening. "Huh," she says, her voice dry. "Imagine that."

"And you're only twenty-five, right?" Soojin adds, her tone too casual to be anything but pointed.

Ayame's nails dig into the stem of her glass. "That's right."

Soojin leans back, her smile softening. "Well, you've done a great job, you know. Keeping Chris grounded. That's not easy. Anyway, I should go mingle before Jess notices I'm avoiding her. It was nice meeting you."

Before Ayame can respond, Soojin drifts off, radiant and carefree, leaving Ayame standing alone by the bar with a hollow feeling in her chest.

She glances across the room and locks eyes with Chan. He's standing with Jess and Felix, mid-laugh, but the moment their gazes meet, his expression shifts. His smile falters, and his eyes widen slightly as he notices Soojin walking away from Ayame.

Ayame lifts her glass in mock salute before draining it in one go, the champagne burning its way down her throat. She waves down a passing waiter, holding up her empty glass. "Another, please," she snaps, her voice sharper than she intends.

Chan starts to step toward her but hesitates, caught by Jess's hand on his arm. He looks back at Ayame, concern flickering across his face, but she's already downing her second glass like it's water.

The waiter returns with a third, and Ayame takes it without hesitation. Her hand shakes slightly as she raises it to her lips. "Cheers," she mutters bitterly, her voice low. "To clarity. And fucking chaos."

The cold bites at Ayame's exposed arms as she leans against the railing at the lookout point, staring blankly over the snowy landscape. The lodge, surrounded by towering pines and draped in white, looks like something out of a postcard. But Ayame doesn't feel the magic. Her dress is useless against the biting chill, yet going back inside feels impossible—too many fake smiles and polite conversations waiting to swallow her whole.

Behind her, the crunch of footsteps through the snow breaks the stillness. Ayame doesn't turn, her jaw tightening as the sound draws closer. She knows who it is before she hears his voice.

"You're going to freeze your ass off, shortcake," Chan says, shrugging off his coat and draping it over her shoulders.

Ayame pulls the coat tight around herself, but she doesn't look at him. "Who let you off your leash? Did your family even notice you left?"

Chan leans against the railing beside her, hands shoved into his pockets. "Not yet. What are you doing out here in nothing but a dress? Trying to test your limits?"

She shrugs, keeping her gaze fixed on the distant treeline. "Needed some air. People in there talk too much."

"Pot, meet kettle," Chan teases gently. "You're the queen of running your mouth."

"Yeah, but I'm funny," Ayame shoots back. "Everyone else in there just wants to talk about how the napkins match the floral arrangements."

Chan chuckles under his breath. "Fair point."

For a moment, neither of them says anything. The silence between them is heavier than the snow falling softly around them. Finally, Ayame breaks it, her voice quieter now.

"Is she the reason you brought me here?" she asks, not meeting his gaze.

Chan straightens slightly, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Soojin," Ayame clarifies, turning to face him at last. "Did you bring me here because of her? Because you wanted to rub it in her face or something?"

His brow furrows, confusion giving way to something softer. "No. No, Ayame, I brought you here because I wanted you here. That's it."

She narrows her eyes at him, the corners of her mouth pulling down. "Then why the fuck didn't you tell me about her?"

Chan exhales, the cloud of his breath disappearing into the cold air. "Because I didn't think it mattered anymore. And honestly? I didn't want to talk about it. It's embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Ayame echoes, incredulous. "You didn't cheat, Chan. You didn't dump her for her sibling. You're the one who got fucked over."

He looks away, his jaw tightening. "Yeah, but telling people about it makes it real, you know? And everyone already sees Felix as perfect. I didn't need another reason to feel like the failure in the family."

Ayame studies him for a long moment, her irritation softening into something more empathetic. "Chan, your brother might be the golden child, but he's got freckles of deceit."

A startled laugh escapes Chan, and he turns to her, his smirk returning. "Freckles of deceit?"

"Yup." Ayame nods solemnly. "And Soojin? Fake lips, fake ass, fake personality."

Chan huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You don't hold back, do you?"

"Not when I'm right," she replies, lifting her chin. "Which is all the time."

He leans on the railing again, looking out over the snow. "You're not wrong. It's just hard seeing them together. Like, it shouldn't bother me anymore, but it does."

"Of course it does," Ayame says, her tone softening. "You're not a robot. Today sucks for you."

Chan glances at her, his lips quirking into a small smile. "It sucks less with you here."

She grins, linking her arm through his. "Damn right. Now, let's go find some booze. I'm pretty sure champagne is the only thing keeping this family reunion bearable."

Chan laughs, shaking his head. "I'll drink to that."

As they turn back toward the lodge, Ayame glances up at him, her sly grin returning. "Oh, and just so you know, apparently I'm your 'younger model.' That's what everyone in there is calling me."

Chan snorts, his shoulders shaking. "Figures. You're way cuter than Soojin, though."

"Damn straight," Ayame says, nudging him playfully.

Together, Ayame and Chan walk back into the reception hall. The warm glow of the lights and soft hum of laughter and conversation fill the air. Jess spots them almost immediately, her warm smile shifting to mild curiosity.

"Oh, where have you two been?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Outside," Chan says smoothly, snagging two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handing one to Ayame. His movements are so casual, so practiced, it's almost infuriating. "Needed some fresh air."

Jess's eyes narrow slightly as she looks between them, her maternal instincts clearly on high alert, but she decides to let it slide. She turns back to Jack, who's deep in conversation with Felix. However, Jack, ever the hawk, zeroes in on Ayame.

"Ayame," Jack says, his voice carrying just enough bite to make it clear he's baiting her. "When you first met Chris, what did you think?"

Ayame tilts her head to the side, feigning a moment of thoughtful consideration. Then, with a sweet smile that could cut glass, she says, "Hmm. I thought he was very good-looking, cold, domineering, and freakishly uptight."

Jack lets out a sharp laugh, clearly not expecting the jab. "I thought you needed ambition to be domineering."

"Jack," Jess snaps, shooting her husband a glare that could freeze fire.

"I'm kidding," Jack says with a faint smirk, though the edge in his tone remains.

Chan, leaning casually against the bar beside Ayame, grins. "For the record, I thought Ayame was very smart, but also a spineless kiss-ass."

Ayame gasps, mock-offended. "Excuse me?"

"It's true," Chan replies, raising his champagne glass with a wink. "It was hate at first sight."

Ayame shakes her head, raising her glass to meet his. "Cheers to that."

"Cheers," Chan echoes, clinking his glass against hers.

Felix approaches their small group, tapping Jack on the shoulder. "Dad, it's time for the speech."

Jack nods, standing and adjusting his tie. "Speech time, huh? Your mother wrote me some notes, but I think I'll just wing it."

"Oh, god," Chan mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "Lord give us all fucking strength"

Ayame leans in closer to him, her voice low. "Is this going to be bad?"

"Buckle up, shortcake," he whispers. "This is going to be a fucking ride."

Jack steps into the centre of the room, clearing his throat as the murmuring dies down. "I always expected great things from my son," he begins, his voice carrying a note of formality. "And he has never disappointed me. He excelled in med school and has become a truly remarkable physician. It's been an honour to watch him grow into the man he is today. A son any father would be proud of."

Ayame feels Chan's hand brush against hers, and she glances at him. His face is impassive, but his grip tightens slightly when she laces her fingers through his.

Jack continues, his voice warming slightly. "But of all the decisions Felix has made, marrying Soojin is easily the best. She's the perfect complement to him, and I couldn't ask for a better addition to this family."

The applause is polite but warm as Jack steps back, raising his glass toward the couple. Soojin beams, clutching Felix's hand tightly, but Ayame doesn't miss the way Chan's jaw tightens.

As the crowd disperses to mingle again, Chan leans down and murmurs, "Cover for me."

Ayame nods, watching him slip out of the room. She weaves through the guests until she ends up by the massive Christmas tree in the lodge lobby. The soft glow of the lights reflects off the ornaments, giving the scene a picture-perfect holiday feel.

Jess approaches with a knowing smile. "Hi, dear. Have you seen Chris?"

Ayame doesn't even flinch, smoothly lying through her teeth. "He went to find some painkillers. Said he had a headache."

Jess sighs, shaking her head. "That speech probably didn't help. Jack should've just stuck to my prepared remarks."

Ayame offers a sympathetic smile. "He did seem... off-script."

Jess laughs softly, stepping closer. "I'm glad you're here, Ayame. Chris has been talking about you for months."

Ayame blinks, caught off guard. "Months?"

Jess nods, her expression softening. "He says you drive him crazy—in a good way. That you challenge him like no one else does. I think taking that job at the publishing house might've been the best thing he ever did. And meeting you? That's probably the second-best."

Ayame's cheeks flush, and she ducks her head, unsure of how to respond. Before she can, Felix appears, grinning.

"You made it through the speech," he says lightly. Then his eyes flick to Ayame. "Ayame, you look much better."

Ayame narrows her eyes at him. "You prescribed me banana antibiotics."

Felix chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, it was effective, wasn't it?"

"I almost puked on my friend," Ayame counters dryly.

Jess places a hand on Felix's arm. "I need to get back inside before your father has another drink and starts telling everyone about his college days."

Ayame leans against the sturdy wooden post beside the massive Christmas tree, her champagne flute dangling from her fingertips. Felix stands beside her, his blonde hair catching the soft glow of the tree's twinkling lights. Outside, snow drifts lazily against the frosted glass windows, painting the lodge in a serene winter wonderland scene.

The silence between them stretches, comfortable but fragile, until Felix clears his throat and asks, "Do you think badly of me now?"

Ayame doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she stares into her champagne, her lips curving into a wry smile. "Freckles of deceit," she says dryly, tilting her head to look at him. "Blonde hair of betrayal. And that stupid Disney Prince face? Designed purely to deceive."

Felix lets out a laugh, the sound warm and genuine. "Fair enough. But in my defence, I didn't exactly plan for everything to happen the way it did."

"Oh, no?" Ayame drawls, turning to face him fully now, her expression sharp but not unkind. "Did you just accidentally fall into your brother's girlfriend? Was it a slip-and-slide situation?"

Felix winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ouch. Okay, I deserve that."

Ayame crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, you do."

He exhales, his breath fogging slightly in the chilly air of the lobby. "Look, I know I'm the asshole in this story, but... it wasn't what you think. Soojin and Chris weren't happy together. She was already halfway out the door when we- When it happened."

Ayame stares at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. "Halfway out the door doesn't mean you push her the rest of the way."

Felix opens his mouth to argue but stops, instead nodding slowly. "You're right."

"Damn right, I am," Ayame mutters, taking the last sip of her champagne and setting the glass down on a nearby table.

Felix watches her, a small, almost sad smile playing on his lips. "You're good for him, you know."

Ayame snorts, rolling her eyes. "Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?"

"I'm serious," Felix says, his tone earnest now. "I've never seen Chris like this. He's lighter, even when he's being an uptight bastard. It's like you've... balanced him out somehow."

"Balanced him out?" Ayame echoes, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You do realize most of our dynamic is me pissing him off, right?"

Felix laughs again, his dimples on full display. "Exactly. He needs that. Someone to challenge him. Chris is so used to being the one in control, the one everyone looks up to. You don't give a shit about any of that. You treat him like he's just... him."

Ayame's teasing expression falters for a moment, her gaze softening. "Huh," she says quietly, more to herself than to Felix.

Felix smiles, offering her his arm. "Come on, let's get back in there before my mother sends out a search party. You don't want to see her in full panic mode."

Ayame hesitates for a beat before slipping her arm through his, her fingers brushing lightly against the soft fabric of his tuxedo jacket. "Fine," she mutters, shaking her head. "But you still have to live with the fact that I'll never let you forget this. Ever."

"Fair trade," Felix replies, grinning as he leads her back toward the reception room. "But for the record, you might be my new favourite person. Don't tell my wife."

Ayame snorts, smirking. "Don't worry. She'd never believe you anyway."

As Ayame and Felix step into the wedding reception, the tension in the air is suffocating. Jack's voice, sharp and full of venom, cuts across the room, silencing the low murmur of conversation.

"An MBA," Jack sneers, standing tall and imperious, "and you're wasting your days running errands and playing house with some younger tramp who flaunts her tits like that makes up for her lack of brains."

Ayame's champagne flute trembles in her hand as her grip tightens. The crystal stem threatens to snap. Beside her, Felix winces, muttering, "I am so fucking sorry for him."

"It's fine," Ayame says tightly, though the edge in her voice suggests otherwise. "We aren't our parents."

Across the room, Jess places a hand on Jack's arm, her face pinched with frustration. "Jack," she says, her voice low but firm, "maybe you should take a walk before you say something you regret."

"I don't regret anything," Jack replies coldly, brushing her off.

And then Chan speaks, his tone calm but deadly sharp. "You do not talk about Ayame like that."

Jack scoffs, his disdain palpable. "Christopher, if you're content wasting your life, that's your problem. But let's not pretend you've made anything of yourself. If you don't want to be a doctor, at least have the decency to do something marginally noble."

Ayame steps forward, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to detonation. She narrows her eyes, her posture rigid as she stares Jack down. "You don't think publishing is noble?" she challenges, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of several nearby guests. "Contributing to culture? Creating stories that change lives?"

Jack barely looks at her, his lips curling in disdain. "I don't think your boy is making books, sweetheart. I think he's fetching coffee for somebody who is."

Ayame's jaw clenches, her fists curling at her sides. "Do not call me sweetheart," she says, her tone icy.

Jack finally turns to her, his gaze sweeping over her like she's insignificant. "And what are you going to do about it? You're just his young slut, flaunting your body to get places. You think you belong here?"

Chan's hand slams against the table, the sound reverberating through the room. Guests flinch, and Jess's eyes widen in shock. "Enough! You do not talk to her like that."

"Chan, it's fine," Ayame says, her voice low but steady, though her eyes blaze with fury. She places a hand on his arm, stopping him before he can escalate further. "Really. It's fine."

Chan turns to her, his expression conflicted, but Ayame shakes her head, gently pulling his hand away. She steps forward, squaring her shoulders and addressing Jack directly.

"You clearly know nothing about your son," she says, her voice calm but cutting. "So let me fill you in real quick."

"Ayame—" Chan starts, his voice softer now, but she cuts him off with a look.

"No, Chan," she says firmly. "He needs to hear this."

The room is holding its collective breath as Ayame sweeps her gaze around the gathered guests. "I'm sorry for the interruption," she says with mock politeness. "I actually like most of you. Really, you've been lovely. But this fucking guy?" She points a perfectly manicured finger at Jack. "He's a fucking dick."

Felix lets out a loud, unfiltered snort into his champagne, and Soojin quickly hides her laugh behind her hand, her shoulders shaking.

Jess covers her mouth, torn between horror and amusement, while Jack's face turns an alarming shade of red.

Ayame takes a step closer to Jack, her chin tilting up defiantly. "Chan has more integrity, more grit, and more brains in his little finger than you've ever had. You think he's wasting his life? Newsflash, your perfect little surgeon golden boy over there-" She gestures to Felix, who raises his glass with a sheepish grin. "-spent years following your orders, and you know what? Even he thinks you're full of shit."

"Ayame," Felix mutters, his tone half-warning, half-impressed.

Ayame squares her shoulders, her voice cutting through the murmurs in the room. "Chan's boss, who is CEO in title only, is a sleazy prick who can't even tie his own shoelaces without fucking it up. Chan runs that place. Actually, we both do."

A collective gasp ripples through the room, but Ayame doesn't flinch. She holds Jack's gaze, unrelenting. "The only reason L&M didn't go up in flames after the merger is because Chan oversaw a reduction of the workforce by- What was it?" She glances at Chan for confirmation.

Chan raises three fingers on one hand and five on the other.

"Fifty-three percent?" Ayame guesses, quirking an eyebrow.

Chan shakes his head, barely containing his amusement. "Thirty-five."

"Thirty-five percent," Ayame corrects herself, smirking. "Like I said, the whole time. Because I don't make mistakes. And because of that, over two hundred people kept their jobs. Two hundred families didn't lose their livelihoods. But yeah, Jack, he's not a doctor. Who the fuck cares?"

Felix snorts, turning away to hide his laughter. Soojin elbows him, her lips twitching as she tries not to grin. An elderly woman nearby gasps audibly, clutching her pearls like they're the only thing keeping her upright.

Ayame steps closer to Jack, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. "Here's what you don't get, Mr. Bang. Chan is smart. He's relentless. He's made me better at my job because I've had to compete with him every single day. He's the reason L&M didn't implode. He's the reason people still have jobs. And the fact that you can't see that your son is fucking amazing is... sad. Honestly, it's pathetic."

Jack opens his mouth to speak, but Ayame cuts him off, raising a finger. "And another thing, your whole dismissive attitude? The 'tramp' comments? It says a lot more about you than it does about me. And for the record, I flaunt my tits because they're fucking amazing, not to impress any man."

The elderly woman gasps again, louder this time, as if the weight of Ayame's words has knocked the air right out of her. Jess presses a hand to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with barely concealed laughter as Chan grins widely.

Ayame turns to Soojin and Felix, her tone suddenly lighter. "Anyway, congratulations to the happy couple. You both look stunning."

She pivots back to Jack, her smile disappearing. "And as for you? Fuck you, Mr. Bang. Fuck your outdated, arrogant opinions. Chan, let's go home."

Chan, who has been watching with an expression of unrestrained delight, grins even wider. "Best idea I've heard all day."

He steps up beside Ayame, slipping his hand around her waist as they turn to leave. Ayame pauses, glancing at Jess. Her expression softens as she says, "Jess, it was lovely meeting you."

Jess steps forward, cupping Ayame's face and planting a warm kiss on her cheek. "You too, darling. You're always welcome in our home. Well, mine, at least."

"Thank you," Ayame says, her voice sincere.

Jess turns to her son, her expression firm but loving. "Chris, call me later. I'm serious."

"Will do, Ma," Chan replies, grinning.

As they make their way toward the door, Felix raises his champagne glass, his voice loud and clear. "To Ayame. The best thing to ever happen to this wedding."

"To Ayame!" Soojin echoes, laughing as she clinks glasses with Felix.

Ayame glances back at the room one last time, catching Jack's stunned expression and Jess's knowing smile. She smirks, tilting her head toward Chan. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Chan says, his arm tightening around her waist as they step out into the snowy afternoon.

Ayame links her arm through Chan's as they stride quickly out of the reception hall. The chilly afternoon air bites at her exposed skin, but the sting is nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline still surging through her. She glances back over her shoulder, cheeks flushed. "Oh my god, everyone was staring."

"You almost killed my aunt," Chan says with a teasing lilt, his voice vibrating with amusement. "She was clutching her pearls so hard I thought they'd snap."

Ayame groans, rolling her eyes. "I am so sorry. Truly, I didn't mean to give her a heart attack."

Chan laughs, his dimples deepening, making him look far younger than thirty. "Don't be. That was fucking brilliant, Lim Ayame. I'm actually mad I didn't record it. You verbally annihilated my father in front of all those people."

Ayame glares at him, tugging him forward. "Walk faster, people are staring!"

Chan slows deliberately, grinning. "Let them stare. You just delivered the speech of the century. Might as well bask in it."

"No, no, no," Ayame mutters. "I don't want them looking. I want to disappear. This is mortifying."

Chan's hand tightens gently around her arm, his tone soft but insistent. "Stop caring what people think, shortcake. They don't matter."

Ayame shoots him a deadpan look. "I can't help it. It's a disease. People-pleasing disorder."

"You need an antidote," Chan says, laughing as they reach his car. "Come on, hop in."

Ayame slides into the passenger seat with a dramatic sigh, crossing her legs and smoothing her dress. "I should be banned from weddings."

Chan slides in beside her, adjusts his mirrors, and starts the car. "If anything, you should be invited to more of them. You made that wedding memorable."

As they pull out of the snowy parking lot, Chan reaches over, resting his hand on Ayame's bare thigh. His fingers are warm, his thumb tracing slow circles against her skin. The motion sends a shiver up her spine, though she doesn't let it show.

"You're going to kill me," Ayame mutters, staring pointedly at his hand.

Chan smirks, his eyes focused on the road. "Oh, relax. It's just a hand."

"It's your hand," Ayame shoots back, her voice sharper than she intends. "There's nothing casual about it."

Chan's grin widens, his thumb pressing slightly harder. "You're dramatic, you know that?"

"Hmm, says the man who smirks like he's the villain in a K-drama," Ayame counters, resting her elbow on the door and staring out at the falling snow.

Chan chuckles. "So, what now?"

"Naked time," Ayame says matter-of-factly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Chan barks out a laugh, his head falling back briefly before he focuses on the road again. "After naked time?"

Ayame pretends to think. "Rehydration? I don't know. Maybe we can solve world hunger if we're feeling ambitious."

Chan glances at her, his tone growing quieter, more serious. "Ayame, I've had a lot of women tell me I'm not the kind of guy you settle down with."

Ayame freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the shift in tone. "Is this where I start playing the tiny violin?"

Chan exhales, his hand pausing its motion on her thigh. "What I'm saying is, I'm not that guy to most people. But I want to be."

Ayame blinks, her gaze softening as she studies his profile. "You think that's what I'm doing? Just fucking around with you until I find someone else?"

Chan shrugs, his jaw tight. "I don't know. But I hope not."

She shifts in her seat, turning to face him more fully. "Bang Chan, you are a puzzle. One minute, you're shoving me into closets and pissing me off. The next, you're saying shit like this."

Chan glances at her, his expression lighter now, teasing. "Closets were your idea, by the way."

Ayame huffs out a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Whatever."

They fall into a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension between them easing slightly. Then Ayame sits up straighter, pointing out the window. "Drive-through. Coffee. Now."

Chan raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Bossy."

Ayame smirks back. "Damn right. You're paying, by the way."

Chan shakes his head, laughing as he steers the car toward the drive-through. "Anything else?"

"Maybe," Ayame says, her voice light but laced with mischief. "Depends on how good the whipped cream is."

Chan laughs, the sound warm and full as they roll up to the menu board. Outside, the snow falls in thick, lazy flakes, but inside the car, the world feels a little brighter, a little warmer, and infinitely more charged.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

@skzleeknowcore

[wexhappyxfew]

hey shannon!!!! from prompt list 3 & the action category - “intervene” with kennedy and bucky, but kennedy is the one doing the intervening/defending him????!!! HELP - @softspeirs

KATIEEEE!!!!!! @softspeirs i am *here* i am *back* and we are here with a kennedy x bucky prompt that had me lowkey losing my mind w/this piece half-written months ago and me now just finally having the time to finish it up. the pure EXCITEMENT of this prompt with kennedy and bucky, kennedy's reactions, bucky's reactions and their dialogue....oh i was absolutely losing it. definitely one of my longer ones i think, but it came out just as i was hoping (and probably better). also the scene inspo for this hit me even before your prompt and when you sent this in - oh i was SO EXCITED. so i sincerely hope you enjoy!!! :D

flak-happy

(a/n): kennedy x bucky (pre-stalag, pre-anything-that-happened-in-the-stalag lmao). i fear we enter bucky: the definition of yearning, and kennedy: the definition of miss-repressed-emotions and oh boy does it make for the absolutely perfect combination, especially in a moment of time where things are turning rather dark and dreary and sad. oh kennedy farley you are so seen!!!! please enjoy my-return installment in the silver bullets universe!!! <3333 (he'll make it up to her, he swears)

"5-0," Kennedy said quietly, the tiny bit of newspaper in her hands something she was half-way between scorning, ripping into a million pieces, and lighting on fire, "they're trying to kill me."

"It's a baseball team, Kenny," Margie said from beside her, "the only thing actually trying to kill you are the Germans."

"But I have a helluva lot more emotional involvement to this team than the Krauts, Margie, that's the difference." Kennedy said, flipping the paper over and grumbling under her breath, "Fucking Danny Doyle - at this point, just say he's in left field 24/7, even when he's actually in left field. Can't even hit the goddamn ball."

"Okay," Vivian Ratcliff said quietly from beside Kennedy, plucking the newspaper clipping that Lieutenant Montez had gotten for her this morning from her fingers and neatly folding it up, "you need a drink. A stiff one at that." Kennedy sighed and crossed her arms between the two as they continued walking forward towards the flying club and bit back her lip.

"And I'm going to have to hear all about how the Yankees won their game," Kennedy mumbled, "please say we can open a tab?"

"Or!" Margie butted in, "Better yet, someone will already have a tab started for us." Kennedy glanced at Margie, gaze burning into the side of Vivian's head, who was currently running a hand through her short, dark curls in the hand-held mirror she was carrying with her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kennedy asked her and Margie chuckled.

"Ev Blakely." Margie offered with a grin, "He's always putting his ViVi on his tab."

"Oh, screw off, Margie." murmured Vivian, brushing her bangs that lay wilted against her forehead, back a bit - the entirely noticeable blush that had sprung across the waist gunners cheeks and the smile poking at her lips evidently hard to ignore.

"I am not, and I repeat, not his 'ViVi', he's just a sweet thing, a gentleman," Vivian offered with a shrug of her shoulders, wiping at a smudge of her red lipstick at the corner of her mouth gently, "honestly." Margie chuckled as Kennedy sent her a glance.

"Whatever you say, Viv, but he's a real charmer that Ev Blakely," Margie said, grinning, "especially that you're ViVi to him, hm?" A small smile quirked onto Vivian's lips as she snapped the hand-held mirror shut and slid it into her pocket and offered them a slight smile.

"Shall we head in?" she asked them with a smile and a nod before stepping inside, cheeks still flaming, "It seems like we're all in need of a stiff drink." Kennedy watched as Vivian then stepped inside, nodding and smiling to a few pilots that had stepped passed her. Slowly, Kennedy glanced towards Margie who simply smiled.

"What?" Margie said with a chuckle, "It's clear Blakely's sweet on her."

Heading inside the flying club, the atmosphere was alive with both a gentle, slow song by Ella Fitzgerald, the quiet chatter of voices still about the place and the mixture of smells which combined two of the finest things on Thorpe Abbotts - cologne and alcohol.

"Beer?" Vivian offered glancing back at both Kennedy and Margie stood in the small opening between the bar area and the dance floor.

"Yeah." Kennedy said quietly, following behind Vivian with a sparing glance towards the dance floor where Judy was, more probable, to be forcing Carrie to dance than anything it seemed.

A large group of some of the pilots had gathered in front of the wooden bar, a few backs turned their way, with a few pairs of wandering eyes meeting her own. At the moment, she made rather quick and inherent eye contact with Bucky Egan. Who was staring down Colonel Harding in front of him.

Kennedy glanced at Margie and Vivian, who sent her sparing looks as she stepped closer, curious to both listen in and figure out why the look in Bucky's eyes made her stomach twist.

"Now-now who's flak happy?' Bucky asked, leaned up against the bar, a morose look drawn on to his features, eyes peering into Colonel Harding's persistent and demanding. Kennedy stepped closer, her eyes looking to Colonel Harding's face - it was a mixture of sadness, grief and evidently being somewhat drunk, but it was somewhat a sorry sight.

"Who?" Colonel Harding seemed to challenge.

"You are." Bucky said with a nod, his eyes frozen on the Colonel's gaze. There was something slightly unsettling in that split second of time - this almost far-too-large group surrounding a somewhat bitter conversation. Flak-happy; what a word. Enough to stir thoughts of death in all of them. How much it surrounded them, consumed them. Buck's half-crescent glance towards Bucky was enough for Kennedy to catch Buck's gaze and see the unfurling repent growing.

"You are." the Colonel said firmly back.

"No, you are," Bucky said, before giving a quick tap of the back of his hand on the Colonel's front pocket, "sir."

For a moment, the low drone of the music seemed to dim to a distant hum as they all stood there, eyes darting back and forth, waiting to see the reaction of the Colonel, to someone like Bucky. Notorious for his outbursts at this point, it seemed.

Kennedy watched for a moment longer, before she bit the bullet and stepped forward, directly placing herself in front of Bucky and looking right up at the Colonel, hands placed behind her back, heart pounding in her ears, praying to God above that she didn't look a fool in this moment. Whatever conversation it had been, friendly or foe or whatever other words could've been tossed around - she was having none of it.

This was for Captain Dye, to celebrate 25 missions, for people to relax a bit. Not to think about what tomorrow or the coming days could bring.

Then, the Colonel began to laugh, eyes not fully connected to the bright laughter from his lips, reaching up to place his cigar to his alcohol-laced lips. Kennedy mimicked her best impression of a laugh that she could muster in this moment without feeling in-genuine and watched as the Colonel's eyes brightened a bit.

"Good to see you, Sergeant Farley." he said and she nodded, saluting as well.

"And you, Colonel." she said and he grinned, before turning away and pointing to the guys - 'Single fillies!' he began to yell and point, people clambering and murmuring amongst one another as the rather large group began to slowly disperse.

She watched, predictable as it was, Blakely saunter up to Viv and Margie seemed to drop to her knees immediately at the sight of a tail-wagging Meatball.

In the midst of this all, Kennedy seemed to only just remember now that she had stepped between the Colonel and Bucky in this very moment and that very same Bucky Egan was now stood just behind her.

And if anything, she knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face and would poke fun at her little heroic moment of relief. She really didn't know what had compelled her to do such a thing - to step in between people that had far higher ranking than she probably ever would. But there was something on his face, that look in his eyes. Like he was distant, in a completely different time zone and realm than where he actually was.

And she couldn't remember a time when Bucky had ever looked like that.

Kennedy found that she was bracing herself as she turned around, but by that moment, as she was turning, Bucky was already watching her. It looked like a mixture between an attempt to smile on his face, and the struggle of an onboarding cold front. And her heart sunk a bit.

Maybe she was a bit stupid for that.

They barely knew each other past their Yankees and Red Sox feud and those few times they'd had conversations together - about what, she wasn't sure - she had spent the greater part of the time noticing every bit about how his eyes lit when he laughed, the crinkle of his grin, the pure sound of his voice.

For what reason she was stockpiling those images and feelings in her brain, she'd never know.

But, standing here now, it felt completely different.

Bucky was different.

"Hi, Farley." he said, voice more exhausted sounding than intended it seemed.

"Hi." she said back, noticing their closeness to each other and the eager smell of his cologne, taking the opportunity to step back.

Then she stared at him - she had no clue what to say.

For the first time in months, she didn't have a clue what to say to him - to explain whatever that had been, to try and chalk it up.

Yeah, she had no clue.

"You alright?" she said him, before scratching the back of her neck.

"Doing the best I can, yourself?" He was bored of this conversation already, he was done with it - say something, say something. But when she took the chance to actually go to open her mouth, she noticed his eyes were far-off, looking past her shoulder.

Slowly, she took a glance and noticed all he was staring at were the people - the couples, the duos - dancing with each other. Kennedy looked back towards Bucky again and found his eyes trained on her again.

"You dance at all, Farley?" he asked her, leaning back up against the bar, the broad stretch of his shoulders enough to fill her entire birds-eye view, enough to make her cheeks tint to annoying pink.

"I regret to inform you that it is quite possibly the last thing you want me to do."

"Really?" Bucky asked with a wry chuckle, smirking at her, "Well, isn't this new. Thought Kennedy Farley was good at damn-near everything." Kennedy looked at him an tilted her head.

"Well, I don't know whether to take that as an insult or compliment, but I'm afraid that growing up my mother put me in ballet and in turned into a complete mess of me on stage - so no, I don't." she said, crossing her arms, suddenly wanting to get herself out of this conversation as quickly as possible.

"I'm intrigued," Bucky said, tilting his head slightly and nodding to her, "tell me more. Ballet, huh?"

"It was like a chicken on a balance beam, alright? I'm sure you could've done better than me-" Bucky chuckled at her mid-sentence.

"Were you really that bad?" he asked her, "I don't believe you."

"Wouldn't be the first time." she murmured and he raised a brow, "This typically would be the time where I ask the same question back, but I've seen you dance and well….clearly know you dance so…." Bucky let out a barking laugh and hung his head for a moment before looking back up at her.

"Well, Kennedy Farley, dancing is a whole lot more than just some stupid ballet classes your Mom put you in when you were a kid, alright?" he said, pushing off from the bar counter and stepping forward. Kennedy look up at him as he stepped closer and equally stepped back.

"What are you doing?" she asked him as he stepped in front of her, managing a small smile.

"Dancing." he said, "With you."

"You can't be serious-"

"Oh, I'm serious!" he said, reaching forward to take her right hand in his, adjusting his other hand to her waist. It was honestly a mixture of feelings, intoxication and his cologne that suddenly made her feel slightly insane.

"Bucky-"

"Nah, nah, you're fine, look at you," he said as they slowly started to sway back and forth, "you're a natural." Kennedy looked up at him, feeling every inch of her hand pressed into his, his other hand on her waist.

"Well, if we're doing this, then you oughta tell me what Colonel Harding was talking about when I came up to you all." she said, watching as his eyes darted to hers and his grip tightened.

"Maybe another time." he said tilting his head to the side, to which she raised a brow.

"Oh, no, no, no, I saw that look on your face-"

"Farley-"

"Major Egan." she said, pausing and looking up at him expectantly. It seemed to work. Bucky watched her, his grip tight on her hand and pouted his lips a bit.

"The war. In the air." Bucky said quietly, tilting his head to the side, "Guess you can say it's making people go crazy."

"Quite the observation." Kennedy murmured and Bucky let out a huff, "Well, why was he addressing you. I mean….sorta front and center there-"

"He thinks it's starting to get to me." Bucky said quickly, pausing as she peered up at him again, watching his eyes under the dimmed yellow lights of the flying club.

Kennedy felt her heart stammer for a moment as she looked up at Bucky - there was still that distant look in his eye, but something else that craved and yearned for touch and connection and possibly something else she couldn't quite decipher. She believed that was all anyone in this war wanted - when the battle was done, when the flight crews were back at base, sweat and grease-stained faces, eyes hazy and glazed. All people wanted was someone else to get it, to understand them and hold them and tell them that maybe things were going to be okay.

But, with Bucky, with their separation of rank and about a million other things, she quite honestly, was at a loss for words.

"You?" she instead asked quietly. Bucky watched her, face unchanged.

"Yeah." he said quietly, almost ashamed, "A trip to London would probably do me some good, don't you think?" Kennedy watched him - he wanted this. He agreed with the Colonel. Bucky wanted this.

"If that's what you want-"

"I think the Colonel was really onto something, Farley." Bucky said, stopping her mid-sentence, "Doing those missions. Over and over. I feel like I'm going crazy." Kennedy felt like she couldn't even hear the music anymore, she didn't even realize how close they were into each other's hands and arms, she didn't even realize the tick of desperation in Bucky's voice. Like he was alone in the dark, trying to grasp onto something.

"Bucky." Kennedy said quietly, watching as he sighed and shook his head, dropping her hand, removing his, rather warm, hand from her waist and stepping back.

"Sorry." Bucky said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before turning back to the bar and finishing what was left of his drink, before looking at her again, "I shouldn't have said a damn thing. Freak you out when you're trying to relax. I'll…" Bucky watched her and sighed, before stepping around her, "I'll see you around."

Kennedy stood there, the flash of his body disappearing from in front of her, the hint of sweat, beer and cologne trailing as she turned to look over her shoulder and found him moving right out of the room.

Kennedy's heart was in her throat - a mixture of feelings of not knowing what Bucky would do next, especially being alone and if this was making her suddenly want to do anything she could to help him.

So, she did the only thing a Farley would do. She hurried after him. She kept her eye on his form as he hurried out and into the cool night air.

Stepping outside she looked over and found him stood at the edge of the road, against the lick of grass that spread between the barracks and looked towards the dark airfield.

"You know, it really isn't the nicest thing to leave a girl hanging on the dance floor," Kennedy started, walking towards him, a slight smile on her face, "especially if she just told you how much she really didn't like dancing." She tried to joke about it, but she just watched Bucky's shoulders drop the slightest bit instead as he ran his hand again over his hair to hang on his neck.

"Sorry, Farley," Bucky said quietly, "I just, I don't want to rope you into this, right now." Bucky said, motioning to himself. Kennedy raised a brow.

"Rope into what, Bucky, I'm right here." Kennedy said watching his back and crossing her arms, "Quite frankly, you just told me you think you're going crazy from it all and downed the rest of your drink. And probably are slightly buzzed. So. I will rope myself into this." Kennedy eyed the few newer airmen walking by them. "Sir." Bucky glanced over his shoulder at her and she simply stared back.

If he wanted her to be scared of this side of him, it would have to take a whole lot more for her to disappear, for her to run.

This Bucky she almost liked. Where he wasn't putting up the facade, the mask, the strong-front that showed he was fine.

Because no one was fine when their job was trying to just beat the odds and survive.

"Farley-"

"Bucky." she said and she watched as he stared at her. He grew quiet.

Slowly, she stepped closer and moved to stand there beside him. Glancing upwards, she found him, looking far off again towards the darkened tarmacs with B-17s.

There was something about standing there in damn-near total silence with him. It was so unlike any other version of the Bucky Egan she'd met, but in this moment, she hoped that this was exactly what he needed.

Someone to be there, but to stand in this silence with him.

Away from the music and the drinks and the B-17s and the bullets.

Away from it all.

All to simply realize he was alive, and on the ground and standing on his own two feet.

"To get in one of those planes again," Bucky started quietly, "I can't….it's hard. To do that. Again and again." Kennedy looked up at him, her face drawn into one of concern and worry.

"I know." she said quietly, watching his eyes as he glanced at her, "It scares me. Every time without fail. After what had happened with Birdie and then Margie those few months ago. The thought? Jesus, I didn't want to have to leave solid ground." Bucky watched her for a moment.

"You don't give off the impression that you're scared, Farley," Bucky said quietly, "always thought you were one of the strongest we got." Kennedy managed a genuine smile up at him.

"Thanks, Bucky." she said - genuinely - she figured people didn't see that often, so she could appreciate when someone like Bucky told her that. He managed a slight smile at her words.

"Would you go to London?" he asked her and she felt her face change into one of slight surprise and near-joking. She offered him a look, one where she almost burst out laughing.

"Me?" she asked him and he nodded, "No, no….probably not." She looked at him again and almost nervously laughed.

"Silver Bullets needs me. And for the moment, despite everything, I'd rather let that trip go to someone else, who needs it more." Like you, she thought quietly. She looked at him and found his face saddened a bit and offered a shoulder bump.

"Go to London. Take the trip." she said softly, "Take some time to relax." Bucky looked at her, his eyes aching to watch hers it felt as she stared at him.

In another world, she would've said she'd loved to go to London - she always heard about London as a kid; Buckingham Palace, the guards in their uniforms, the city streets, all of it. But for now, she didn't need it. She was fine.

"Well….I only asked because…" Bucky cleared his throat, "Buck sorta denied my offer and I figured, well, since you and just about everyone else also need a break, figured I'd offer to come. With me." Kennedy looked up at him, her cheeks flamed in the darkness and she hoped the fact the moon was covered by clouds, covered her obvious shyness.

"Oh." Kennedy said quietly, her eyes wanting to leave Bucky's but whole-heartedly refusing. In her mind, she told herself that he could tell something was most definitely wrong with her, with her blubbering and lack of words and shock and nervousness. But instead he offered a slight smile her way.

"I mean," she started, a small laugh escaping her lips, "you're….you're a Major, Bucky, and I'm just, I'm a Sergeant. And we're from different planes. And it'd be…I don't know, people, they'd say stuff-"

"Farley," Bucky said, "we're…..friends, ya know, it'd just be us two. As….friends." And even she wasn't convinced of his words in that moment and suddenly she felt hot all over and the thoughts in her mind were enough to force her to look away from Bucky in an instant. She looked forward again over the field of B-17s in the darkness and swallowed her shaky breaths.

"Farley, I…" Bucky started, before clearing his throat, "I just…I think I'm drunk. Just, ignore me-"

"Okay." Kennedy said quickly, looking over at him and nervously meeting his gaze with a nod, swallowing sheepishly as she looked up again to his eyes, "I-"

She really couldn't get herself to speak properly at the thought. Of Bucky. Her head felt light, her cheeks hot, her body hot, her thoughts a jumbled mess.

He was drunk, she told herself, he was drunk and wouldn't remember this and she could go back to being brazen and bold and stubborn with him.

Not this mushy, genuine and sweet part of herself that she rarely showed a soul.

Looking at Bucky, suddenly her mind went into a frenzy at the thought of the two of them, in a room together, in London - how awkward it would be!

She'd take the bed closest to the window, he'd take the one closest to the door and she'd have to hear his every breath as he fell asleep and his snores through the night.

And she'd have to wake up and he'd see her exhausted and barely awake and exceptionally grumpy.

And then he'd say something about how she reminds him of the pigeons on the streets in the city and she'd launch her shoe at him.

And then she'd feel embarrassed having to get ready and knowing he's right in the other room.

And - no, it was too much. Because what if they just happened to ignore it all and she allowed herself to feel these feelings that made her feel sick to her stomach - no. She looked away from him and suddenly wanted to be alone.

No, let him go to London - get the drinks, get the girls, and she'll keep her mouth shut.

Because he was right - they were just two people, barely even friends, who happened to know each other and have strong opinions about baseball. No, she wasn't going to say a thing.

"I'll make it up to you then someday, Farley - the dancing," Bucky said before patting her shoulder gently and letting out a low whistle, "I'm off to barracks. Figured I need to shut up before I keep letting my mouth yap, ya know?" Kennedy slowly looked over at him, sticking his hands in his pockets and giving her a wide smile - one between a forced and slightly buzzed grin and a genuine one.

"I'll let you know how London is, okay?" he said and she nodded, tying herself directly to where she was standing so she wouldn't convince herself to follow him again.

"Okay." she said and he smiled wider and then mock-saluted to her before turning away.

"I'll be seeing you, Farley." he said and as he staggered down the path, her own heart thumping inside her chest she shut her eyes and let out a breath before crossing her arms tighter across her chest.

She couldn't have said anything better? Come up with better words? A better send-off and good-bye? Should she have taken the offer?

No, no, no, no. Nope.

And with that, Kennedy turned and moved right back into the flying club and ordered as strong a drink she could get at this time of night.

[greatbananaboat]

um?

"fuck you vi." why

"fuck you caitlyn." why

"why is caitlyn still alive and not jinx." jinx is alive, but she is breaking the cycle by "finding the strength to walk away". she believes she is a literal jinx, someone who hurts everyone she is around, this is her way of letting the people she loves be happy. it's not meant to be a perfect "tie everything up with a bow" ending.

"is vi so fucking dumb she didn’t understand vander was GONE for a REALLY LONG TIME when he tried to tear her into pieces." uh she's rlly going through it and also. she watched him die? and also. he's trying to TEAR HER INTO PIECES? lol

"my baby just wanted to heal and to help people and jayce made his pain worse instead of just letting him die." to the first part, no he's making them what he believes to be "better" and taking away their humanity to do so, to the second part, i'm confused why do you think that

"if silco the dried grape had found vander’s letter." lmao

"i’m mad. and sad." fair and valid reaction

alright.

i just finished arcane.

fuck you vi.

fuck you caitlyn.

why is caitlyn still alive and not jinx.

is vi so fucking dumb she didn’t understand vander was GONE for a REALLY LONG TIME when he tried to tear her into pieces.

viktor kinda did a eren jaeger or daenerys targaryen thingy.

my baby just wanted to heal and to help people and jayce made his pain worse instead of just letting him die.

if silco the dried grape had found vander’s letter.

i’m mad.

and sad.

[vestaldestroyer]

was watching dunmeshi ep 19 on the train. my sister looked at my screen just as laios ripped his skin to reveal he's a wolf inside. I think that was the most accurate introduction to the show she could've gotten.

[shima-draws]

So my roommate is also into One Piece. I’m not sure if he’s watched any of the anime, I know for sure he’s watched the live action, but earlier tonight he came upstairs and watched a few episodes with me while waiting for a food delivery, and then he got hooked, and then he sat and watched MORE episodes with me without really knowing what was going on. But it was still wildly entertaining to him, esp since I’m right in the middle of one of the (arguably) best arcs rn, and now he wants to finish the arc with me LOL. NOBODY is immune to One Piece propaganda. Or Bon-chan 🥰