#im strangling u with my bare hands

[feymaid]

The recent zevran disrespect has honestly pissed me off so bad no one talk to me for a week.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

alan calls dakota little red :((((

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I once misread an ao3 tag as "Kakashi is impotent" and I think about it all the god damn time

[hungharrington]

what comes after certainty (18+)

day 22/31 of the august writing challenge

today’s word: easy

contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; very sweet sweet sweet smut; hardly even smut just like. a love letter

a/n: text in italics indicates a conversation that happened in the past <3

You tuck a strand of hair out of Steve’s soft face. He’s blissed out, forehead beaded with sweat. He gives you a shaky grin and sighs heavenly as he gently rocks his hips back into yours.

Robin looked at you so seriously, like she was running an investigation. “What is it about him that makes you love him?”

“You okay?” he breathes, cock filling you up so fully while his words cloud your head.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, cupping his cheeks. “Are you?”

He leans down to kiss you. It’s nice and soft and gentle. He lingers for a moment, hips stopping as he devoted all of his attention to your lips.

You’d blinked. “What couldn’t I love about him?”

“Good answer. But I know Steve. He snores and he’s a smartass. He’s dramatic. Does it ever bother you?”

“I love you,” he whispers gently, pressing his forehead to yours, noses kissing.

You look at him, into his soft amber eyes, feeling drunk on everything about him. “I love you, Steve.”

You swear his eyes water, but he buries his head into the crook of your neck before you can really tell. He kisses your throat and moves his hips again, nice and slow.

“I guess sometimes,” you had said after a pause. “But loving Steve is just so easy. I don’t really think about those kinds of things, you know? I just see him and I know.”

“Steve,” you moan, rocking your hips lazily forward into his. “Mmmph, I love you so much.”

Now you’re crying. You swallow hard around his lips before he lets himself up, his wet, red eyes looking at yours. You both laugh a little, flashing teeth, before melting into each other.

“Don’t cry about it, peach,” he whispers, voice cracking. He takes your hands and holds them in his while pressing them into the bed. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“You see him and you know?”

You shake your head. “I’m not going anywhere, either.”

“That I was made for him and he was made for me.”

[drveamz]

👾Breaking the Rules - Thanos

[thanos x fem reader]

notes! please remember that english isn’t my first language, im sorry for any mistakes i make, if u like u can go to my page and request any time, just make sure that you read my rules and my who i write for :)

synopsis - sneaking into the bathroom was already risky—but letting thanos have you there? that was a mistake you'd never escape.

warning! rough sex, semi-public setting, risk of getting caught, degradation, explicit content, power imbalance, dirty talk

The dormitory was suffocating. The endless rows of metal bunks, the scent of sweat and fear thick in the air, the constant hum of whispers—paranoia feeding off itself like a sickness.

But the most dangerous thing in this place wasn’t the games.

It was him.

Thanos—Player 230. The cocky bastard with violet hair and a smile that promised nothing but trouble.

You told yourself to stay away. You should stay away. But something about him pulled you in, like a flame that dared you to touch it, knowing you’d get burned.

It had started with a glance. A lingering stare across the dorm, a smirk when your eyes met. Then a stolen moment in the cafeteria line, his fingers brushing against yours too deliberately to be an accident.

And now this.

The moment Thanos steps into the bathroom, you know you're in trouble.

Not the kind that comes from breaking the rules of the game.

The kind that comes from him.

“You know how easy it would be to get caught?” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. He locks the door behind him, the sound clicking through the small space like a death sentence. “Is that why you’re here, sweetheart? You like the risk?”

You swallow hard, heart slamming against your ribs. “No—”

“Liar.” His voice is smooth, dark, dangerous.

Then he moves—one hand slamming against the wall beside your head, caging you in. The heat radiating from his body is suffocating, his presence swallowing every bit of space between you.

“You’ve been watching me,” he muses, tilting his head, eyes sharp and hungry. “Thinking about me.”

You shake your head, but his fingers are already trailing up your thigh, slow, deliberate. Teasing.

“No?” His breath is warm against your skin as he leans in. “Then why are you trembling, baby?”

Your legs are shaking. Partly from fear. Mostly from something worse.

He knows it, too.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, dragging his lips along your jaw, barely touching, just enough to make your breath hitch. “You’re soaking wet, aren’t you?”

You should push him away. Should.

But when his fingers slip between your legs, grazing over the heat of your core through the thin fabric of your uniform, your body betrays you—hips jerking forward, chasing the contact.

Thanos smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Your cheeks burn as he presses harder, the friction making your knees buckle.

“Say it,” he murmurs, teasing you with lazy circles. “Say you want me.”

Silence.

Then his hand disappears.

A strangled noise escapes you, frustration surging through your veins. He leans in close, his voice nothing but a whisper against your lips.

“Beg for it.”

Your pride screams at you to resist, but your body? Your body betrays you.

“…Please.”

Thanos grins, fingers curling around your jaw, tilting your face up until your eyes lock. “Good girl.”

And then he’s on you.

His mouth crashes against yours, claiming, devouring. His kiss is nothing short of ruthless, his tongue pushing past your lips, taking everything.

Before you can process it, he’s spinning you around—your chest hitting the cold tile, hands splayed against the wall.

Then you hear it.

The rustling of fabric. The slow, deliberate unzipping of his jumpsuit.

Your breath catches.

A second later, his hands are everywhere—yanking at your uniform, shoving it up just enough to expose you.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he murmurs, voice dripping with filth. His hand trails down your spine, teasing, sending a shiver down your back.

Then, without warning—his fingers slam inside you.

You bite your lip to muffle the moan, your body arching instinctively, pushing back against him.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice tight with control. “Take it, baby.”

His fingers pump into you, slow and torturous, stretching you open, teasing you to the edge. Every movement is deliberate, designed to make you fall apart.

“You like this, don’t you?” he rasps, pressing his chest against your back. His free hand wraps around your throat, his breath hot against your ear. “Like knowing anyone could walk in and see you getting fucked like a little slut?”

Your eyes flutter shut. Shame and desire war inside you.

But you don’t stop him.

You can’t.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his fingers slipping out, leaving you feeling empty.

Then—he’s there.

Thick. Hard. Pressing against your entrance.

A slow, agonizing push.

Then—he slams inside in one brutal thrust.

Your hands slap against the wall, a strangled gasp escaping your lips as he fills you completely, stretching you to the point of painful pleasure.

“Shhh,” he breathes, one hand clamping over your mouth. “Can’t have them hearing you, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t wait.

His pace is merciless—deep, hard thrusts that leave no room for thought, no room for anything but him. The sound of skin against skin, the low grunts he makes as he ruins you—it’s almost enough to make you forget where you are.

Almost.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his grip on your hips bruising. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”

You nod—because you can’t deny it anymore.

Can’t deny the way your body reacts to him.

The way your walls tighten around him every time he buries himself to the hilt.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he pants, his rhythm stuttering as he loses control. “Gonna come for me?”

You nod frantically, body shaking.

Thanos grins. “Then do it.”

His hand snakes between your legs, fingers circling your clit in tight, fast motions. It’s too much—the pleasure overwhelming, tipping you over the edge with a silent scream.

Your body shatters, waves of euphoria crashing through you, leaving you boneless.

Thanos follows, his hips snapping against yours in a final, desperate thrust before he spills inside you, groaning your name like a prayer.

For a moment, the only sound is your ragged breathing.

Then, slowly, he pulls out, fixing your uniform like nothing happened.

“No one can know,” you whisper, voice still wrecked.

Thanos smirks, pressing one last possessive kiss against your jaw.

“They’ll know,” he murmurs. “Because next time?”

He chuckles, eyes dark with promise.

“I won’t let you walk away.”

[reguluskeys]

jegulus snippet - 1036 words - i’m a very amateur writer </3

cw: self hatred (im projecting)

cody if you see this no u don’t

The moment James saw Regulus in the astronomy tower that night, he knew something was off. He had his legs to his chest and was resting his head on top, staring at the stars. James slowly walked towards him, and sat down with one leg dangling over the edge.

Regulus either didn’t notice him or was simply choosing to ignore him, so James tried again to get his attention.

“Reg? You ok?” James nudged the boy's shoulder. When Regulus finally looked over, James saw the face he’d seen a million times from Sirius, only- well it was different. While James could read every signal on Sirius’ face to know exactly how he was feeling, Regulus seemed to have a wall up. His lips were pressed into a line and his eyebrows were knit together into almost a scowl, but his eyes�� His eyes were filled with a deep sadness that James wished he could pluck from Regulus and give to himself, just to never see it on the boy again.

Regulus’ eyes flickered, looking James over, before turning back to the night sky. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. James let the silence sit between them for a minute as he too stared at the Stars. He wondered if Regulus or Sirius were out tonight.

“Well… Something’s definitely wrong… but you don’t have to talk about it! I’ll be your ‘shoulder to cry on or whatever they say!” James gave Regulus a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.

Regulus tried to hide the small smile but James caught it immediately and laughed. “Oh! Is that a smile? Did Regulus Black just smile?” Regulus rolled his eyes but the smile didn’t fall. “Well this must go in the history books. Wizards for generations must learn of the- dare I say gorgeous - smile that you have. Personally, I feel blessed-!” Regulus cut him off with an elbow to the stomach but James just kept laughing.

“Shut up!” Regulus said, laughter in his voice. “My smile isn't- it's not ‘gorgeous.’” He let one of his legs fall and dangle over the edge, mirroring James.

“Uhm, yes it is! You even give Sirius a run for his money! Don't tell Remus I said that. Or Sirius.” At the mention of his brothers name, the smile on Regulus’ face faltered. James immediately noticed.

“Hey, you ok? Did I say something wrong?” James leaned towards Regulus and lightly put his hand on the boys shoulder. Regulus tensed and went slightly red, though James barely noticed.

“I’m fine,” he paused for a moment. “Merlin it’s just, why does Sirius treat me like I'm still 9?!” Regulus let out a frustrated groan and let the other leg fall over the edge. “Yes, I love Sirius and I want to make amends but I can fight my own battles, I can make my own decisions! He acts like I'm still the crybaby who would sneak into his room at night because I was scared a bogart was in my room, or the kid who never spoke to anyone but him because I was scared to embarrass myself.”

Though it was probably not the best moment, James was enchanted by Regulus. He’d never heard the boy speak that many words at once, let alone the amount of passion and emotion.

“I love him but sometimes I just want to strangle him or drown him in the lake!” Regulus made a vague gesture, strangling the air in front of him as though it was Sirius’ neck. James let out a small snort that Regulus thought sounded weirdly similar to that of a stag, but the thought was overtaken by the sudden embarrassment. His face was suddenly bright red.

“Well now that someone has heard my incoherent ramblings about my brother I must either kill you or myself, and right now I'd rather it be me, so goodbye James. Tell Barty he can’t have my money.” Regulus said in a completely monotone voice and began to stand up on the ledge.

“Hey wait! If you kill yourself now you’ll never be able to beat gryffindor at the quidditch match- well not that you would, i’m the best captain the schools ever seen, but you wouldn’t even get to try!” James scrambled to pull Regulus back down next to him. Regulus huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine, i won’t kill myself. But in exchange for you hearing that… I need to hear one of your secrets now. Not that James Potter would have much to hide.” Regulus rolled his eyes and James let out a chuckle.

James had never been a private person, everyone knew when he liked a girl or if he hated a class. Everyone could tell when a marauders prank was about to be in motion because James simply did not have a poker face.

There was one thing though. Something not even Sirius knew. His small smile didn’t falter as he looked straight ahead and spoke.

“Sometimes, I really, really hate myself.” James spoke in a calm voice, as if he’d just stated his favorite color, and not something that had just shattered Regulus’ view of the entire world. The boy just stared at James, and when he finally realized Regulus wasn’t going to say anything, he continued.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don't think I'm a bad person… I have great parents, great friends, I get good marks, I'm a quidditch captain, and if I tried hard enough I could get almost any girl I wanted, but…” James moved his glasses off his face and held them infront of him. “I don’t know I guess, sometimes there’s just something in the back of my brain telling me i’m a terrible person- that everything I do is wrong or that i’m not doing enough. Then I think about all the things i’m lucky enough to have and I hate myself even more for even having those feelings in the first place.”

Regulus took a moment to truly look at James. Not the dumb-jock facade he showed the school, no he looked at the James who despite being the embodiment of sunshine, was burning inside. The James who had bad days and the James who sometimes hated himself.

[love-bitesx]

what would hobie do in a situation where reader, who’s a new spider person (like pavitr, like they got bitten by the spider few months ago or smth) had just went through their canon event?? whether it be what he would do after the event or during is completely up to you, im just curious and i have hobie brainrot rn LMAOAOAO

ofc if u don’t wanna do this request thats completely fine, have a good rest of ur day/night!!

hobie x gn!reader

warnings: death, family member dying, very (very) brief description of a dead body, but nothing graphic at all. hobie just wants u to be safe n happy :( he’s been through that grief and his heart hurts knowing you’re abt to go through it too :(

you couldn’t move.

your watch emitted a blaring, shrill alarm, miguel desperately trying to make contact, but you were frozen. bones aching, numb, all you could do was stare at the scene in front of you with watery eyes.

“i-,” your body betrayed you, catching your words as they try to escape, clawing at the walls of your throat as they get dragged back down into the growing pit in your stomach. falling to your knees, numb to the feeling of rubble against your bones, you picked up a slab of concrete and threw it to the side.

“uncle ben.”

it was all you could muster, voice small and hoarse, and if a mouse had squeaked at the same time, you would’ve lost in comparison. shaking hands rising to touch his face, a strangled choke broke out at the cold, lifeless skin that met your trembling fingertips. he looked strangely peaceful, sending a bolt of pain directly to your heart.

“no-no, please, uncle ben,” your thoughts unravelled, grabbing at his shirt, as if you could shake the life back into his bones, “please, i can’t do this– i can’t do this without you.”

you’d only been a “spider person” for 4 months. only 4 months of navigating the most isolating, terrifying journey with no one but your dear uncle by your side. he’d grown with you, seeing you muster from dangling off climbing frames in playgrounds as a child, to scaling buildings and saving lives. not a day went past when he wasn’t there with you, holding your hand through the unfathomable changes.

it all happened so quickly. one moment, you’re fighting an anomaly, bashing around the streets of your earth, leading the monster further away from the crowds – until it threw itself, headfirst into a neighbouring building, office blocks, you think to yourself, nothing too serious. that is, until you trap it, ready to send it back to miguel with ease, and lay eyes on the scene it left behind. people crushed under concrete, glass shattered the streets, and a familiar face unconscious on the pavement.

“y/n,” a voice sounds from behind you, but your soul is too busy trying to claw it’s way out of your chest to notice, or care. you laid on his unmoving torso, heart ripping at the vacancy of its usual heaving.

“y/n,” it sounded again, and a twang of familiarity shone its way through the darkness.

“he’s–” you sobbed, reluctantly lifting your head, “i couldn’t save him, i– it’s all my fault, hobie.”

“shh, come ‘ere,” you barely felt his arms wrapping around you, your body was numb. it’s like you were a ghost, haunting your own skin – a poltergeist in the wind.

regardless, you fell into him, gripping his leather vest until your knuckles were white. sobbing into his chest, his ringed hand came up to calm you, running it softly over the curves of your spine, voice low as he whispers into you, “it ain’t your fault, love.”

“you two, you need to get back—” miguel’s voice came booming from a growing portal, spider-people spilling into your dimension, ready to bring the anomaly home, until hobie cut him off sternly.

“fuck off, miguel,” he spat, pulling his arms tighter around you, feeling as though if he held you close enough, he could shelter you from the grief. maybe, if he kept you in his arms, he could carry the burden of your loss on his own studded shoulders. but, he knew he couldn’t, he’d been there before – they all had. all he could do was be there for you, a hand to hold and shoulder to cry on.

and so that’s exactly what he did.

“love, gonna come stay with me for a bit, yeah?” he whispered into your hair, and you nodded weakly, his heart surged, “just ‘til you feel a’ight.”

he placed a kiss – gentle, safe – to your forehead.

“i’ll look after you, darlin’.”

[pinkaditty]

X READER smut imagines (mostly written to Cater Diamond or Asmodeus)

*tiptoes into my blog with an obviously guilty look on my face* hiiiiiii....

yea. I haven't finished the other three Side Characters for the Obey Me! Shall We Date Pervert drabbles. i knowwwww i said it'd be done in a week... and it's been a week... yeaaaaa... im sorry</3 I PROMISE!! IT WILL BE DONE SOON AWA!!!

anyways.

cw: NSFW (minors DNI please, you make me really uncomfortable), choking, penetration, pictures during sex, creampie, gn!mc (your genitalia are never mentioned, only that you're "taking" and he's "giving"), not much d/s but mc does sorta lean dom here (couldn't help myself! <;3)

a/n: im hoping this will tide you all over until i can provide more content. i wrote this a few months ago, but never got around to sharing, so i hope you all enjoy! i promise, Part 3 of the Obey Me Pervert drabbles is on it's way! in the meantime, enjoy this! consider it a sneak peek of my smut writing. (can u tell im nervous)

MINORS DNI. PLEASE.

His hips roll and snap forwards into yours, burying himself deeper with each thrust. He holds one of your legs over his shoulder, the other one holding his phone. You see the flash before you hear the shutter click of a camera. He absentmindedly muttered small praises of how much he enjoyed this and how pretty you were, and how lucky he was you were letting him do this. He sounded like he was falling apart just from being inside. You were taking it well, your fingers curling into the sheets and your eyes bleary, watching his movements, his phone's camera, and his blissed out, dazzling, drunken smile. But, while it felt good, you were admittedly getting tired of him just taking pictures, staring at you from behind a lens, not really taking in the moment. He whimpers as he continues, his arm giving out as he collapses onto his elbows, barely holding himself up, still keeping his phone in his hand. You feel the bright flash and hear yet another shutter click. You want to knock his phone out of his hand.

You watch as he gulps, panting, whining about how good it feels. His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he continues to murmur unintelligible praises. You suddenly have an idea.You uncurl your fingers from the sheets and reach upwards for his shoulders, pressing your hands into them, clenching them. He smiles as smugly as he can, as he continues falling apart, assuming you are close. Suddenly, you move your hands to his neck, wrapping your fingers around him. Before he can respond, you begin to squeeze, tightening his airway just slightly.

It sends a shockwave through his body and he drops his phone in surprise, it bounces off your shoulder onto the bed sheets. You feel as he shivers and abruptly stops his pace, his hips stilling against you, before he suddenly starts up again, his eyes rolling back, his pace more rough than before. You hear him struggling to breathe, heaving breaths as he slides forward into your grasp, gripping the sheets on either side of your head with his fingers.He struggles to speak, the whimpers coming out slow and broken.

"T-Tighter." You tighten your fingers around his neck as he asks, and he lets out a strangled moan, barely able to get any breaths in as he keeps up the pace. You watch as his eyes prick with tears and drool leaks from the corner of his mouth. He's dizzy and falling apart more than he even was before.

You release him to allow him some air, and he heaves in a deep inhale, a few short coughs interrupting his thrusts before he catches up again, faster and tougher than before. You fist your fingers in his hair to signify approval, to which he whines. He leans down to you and mumbles "Please, again. Please do it again." You oblige, releasing your grip on his roots and instead wrapping your hands around his neck again, applying just enough pressure.

"Hrk!" He clenches his jaw and his eyes roll back again, but he manages to keep the pace this time. He hits a good spot and you tighten your grip in response, moaning. He chokes and pops his lips open, his tongue lolling out. Saliva drips from his tongue onto your collarbone. "Fuck!" He coughs out, his pace going from constant to erratic. He continues to hit the sweet spot from before and you shiver, releasing your grip in favor of clawing at his shoulders. He pants, his eyes rolling back again as he continues his pace.

"C'mon, one more time…! I'm so close!" He begs, looking down at you with pleading eyes, fisting and unfisting his hands, his legs shaking. You reach up, all the pleasure going straight to your head. You clench your hands around his neck one final time.

"Gh…!" He keens, clenching his jaw again but keeping his gaze focused on you. Tears rolls down his face and he attempts to heave in a breath, only getting so much oxygen. You clench tighter and his tongue lolls out again. Whimpers barely come out from him as you keep him quiet, the occasional choking sound coming from his throat. Unable to say anything, he frantically taps on your shoulder to signify his release, his eyes rolling again. You release him as he releases into you, long, deep inhale and strangled groan leaving his lips immediately after.

His thrusts slow down, snapping against your hips at a slower pace. Your legs shake from your own peak, your whole body shivering from aftershock. Gently, he pulls out and immediately collapses next to you, panting into the pillow, his mouth wide open and tongue still lolling out as he caught his breath. His legs were shaking from aftershock and his voice was broken with little, high pitched whimpers. "Fuck…" He mumbles, blinking away his tears and waking up from his haze. "That… was amazing."

a/n: yippee! it's definitely a little unrefined, but i think it's alright! please let me know what you all think! if you have requests, send an ask! or just send one to say you like my writing, I don't mind! I'll respond to all of them!

**shameless bit that I really appreciate likes, comments, reblogs, and asks! please don't be shy to tell me what you think! im catering to you, after all!**

[stevie-petey]

hiiiiiiiii honey <3 could we get a blurb about bug telling steve about jonathan’s outburst towards her after he took the pictures of nancy and steve’s reaction to learning about it???? it would be so so appreciated by me <3 you’re the best ever <3 MWAH

(i am being held against my will to write this jonathan sweetie im so sorry) (i love u val) (u are evil)

i know this isnt necessarily what u MEANT but ,,, ive been dying to expand upon bugs kindness and how it may seem annoying and pathetic, but its hers ! its her kindness !!!

enjoy <3

"no way you guys havent wanted to strangle each other at least once." steve remarks one day as he watches you and jonathan work side by side at the cash register.

jonathan had been bored today and decided to join you and steve at work, something that you're very happy about, honestly.

"oh, ive definitely wanted to strangle jonathan," you say, writing down a new shipment receipt while the boy next to you doodles.

steve rolls his eyes. "old married couple squabbling doesnt count. im talking, like, full on betrayal and hurt here. you guys are always so... you, and it has to be an act."

jonathan snorts. "shouldve seen the fights we had last year. surprised y/n didnt kill me with her bare hands."

"i dont believe you."

"no, hes right." you look up at steve. "he threw a jacket at my face last year and then told me we werent family the night he took those pictures of nancy. then cried in my arms like a day later."

steve stares at you, shocked.

"i also then slept in nancys bed and lied about it. and tried leaving you behind a few times."

"that you did," you flick jonathans ear, causing him to wince in pain. "you deserved that."

"i did."

during this entire exchange, steve hasnt said a single word. hes still stunned, baffled by the fact that jonathan could be so cruel to someone so wonderful.

"wait a second," he looks between you and jonathan. "and youre still friends?"

"yeah." you both say at the same time.

steve cant fucking believe it. you do anything and everything for jonathan, that much is obvious, and sure. steve has seen jonathan do small acts of kindness towards you, devote the same back, but to throw a jacket at you and belittle you? and now here he is, joking about it alongside you. as if it was all okay in the end.

"youre too nice sometimes, y/n." the words leave steves lips before he can stop them. once he realizes what hes said, he looks up at jonathan and panics. "sorry, man. im sure you guys talked it out and... yeah."

jonathan shrugs. "no, youre right. she is and i was dick."

"im right here, you know."

steve winces. "sorry."

"its fine, honestly." you go back to scribbling shipment orders. "i am indeed too nice, but i dont ever really see the point in holding a grudge? i mean, jonathan apologized and i understood the stress he was under. sure, it didnt erase all the hurt he caused, but after almost dying immediately after being mad at him for not including me in something... i dont know. it felt silly to hold onto that anger after. childish, even."

jonathan and steve share a look, for once both seeming to think the same thing.

shes too good.

you hate that they do this. you hate that people view your kindness as a weakness. after the hell youve been through, long before monsters even came to hawkins, youve learned the hard way just how rare kindness is.

now you try to be kind to everything and everyone, no matter what it may cost you.

the kindness is yours, no one elses.

and if that makes you weak, then at least it made you better.

you tear two pieces paper from your notebook, scrunch them up into balls, and then throw them at steve and jonathan. "stop pitying me. im kind and i love that aspect of myself. i dont care if it makes me vulnerable or pathetic. its a piece of me, and i wouldnt change it. if you dont like it, then that belittles me even more than emotional outbursts ever could."

jonathan sighs. "youre right, bug. youre a very kind and lovely person and its what makes you a joy to be around, paper balls and all."

steve plays along. "definitely a better super power than spider-man, dare i say."

"okay, lets not get ahead of ourselves now," you giggle, appreciative of both the boys. they may not understand or like the way you view the world, but theyre at least trying.

its all you could ask for.

even if steve later on that day pulls you aside to whisper, "i think i can kick jonathans ass this time, if you ever need it."

and its enough.

[toruro]

hi it is me yet again coming with more brainrot thoughts but this time it's wonwoo. im so sure this man has a praise and degradation kink like you can't tell me otherwise and maybe a slight corruption kink too.

- yours truly corruption kink anon

okay honestly. degrading isn't my favorite thing in the world but the way you say this......you’re so right. wonwoo loves you with his whole heart but he also loves a little degrading because he is a mean dom through and through (save for some special occasions) and loves to have you at his mercy.

he loves how wet you can get just from him spilling out a few little dirty words, how you crumble beneath him before he even pushes his fingers inside of you. loves calling you a little slut for being so horny and so naughty for him. loves telling you how you're a cock-hungry whore when you grow needy. loves toying with you—"why should a greedy girl like you deserve my cock?"—loves making you beg.

but there's always something endearing about it. watching your cute eyes well up with tears and your lips tremble as you plead with him to let you cum, wonwoo feels his heart swell that there's someone who he loves this much who also loves him this much back.

you're not just any slut, you're his slut. yeah you're needy, but wonwoo is the only one you need. and fuck, will he make sure that no matter how filthy and degrading his words are, you will always know that he's in love with you.

"taking it all in like the beautiful slut you are, huh?"

"why should a greedy girl like you deserve my cock?" and then there'd be a pause while you moan and clench at the words. "because you're my perfect fucking angel, that's why," he'd grunt, jamming his hips into yours.

in general, he loves feeling like he's in power, but always uses loving words laced in between to remind the both of you that you have him in the palm of your hands as well.

also just imagine this:

wonwoo has your knees pressed up to your chest, leaning his weight onto you as your cunt is all bare and open and dripping for him as he nudged the tip against your clit. you’re eyes are brimming with tears from neediness and desire, and when he finally pushes in you literally start sobbing.

“my pretty little slut can’t take it?” wonwoo would coo, and you’d look up at him with puffy lips and strangled moans as he pushes in more. “look angel, you’re taking me so well,” he continues, starting to bottom out inside you so it feels like he quite literally might become one with you. “i knew my little whore could do it. such a good girl. gonna fuck you so good angel.”

a/b: aksjdjskskdks goijg crazy i can’t goodnight. (i hope u have a great day ily💞)

[ikkosu]

YAYYY ilove my littule hat u gave me :D i will cherish it <3 while im here, i want to mention that when you said human prowl and mermaid reader i blacked out for a moment and experienced a Thought so: consider, selkie reader. like.,,.! prowl taking your coat bc he wants u to stay with him... excuse me i need to lay face down on the floor -gourmet anon

*pulls you off the floor, shakes you by the shoulders* Man down! Man down!

ok, in all seriousness, i did some research because I didn't know what a selkie is (don't kill me) But omg!!! Cute seals 😭😭 are you telling me they can shapeshift into a human THEN into a seal? That's so adorable omg. And Prowl taking the coat is basically him just wanting selkie to be his lover. 🤨 A little selfish of him ok but, hey, kinda in character.

I actually have a mini fic in mind about this rn (like uhh five chapters at most?) But here's a snippet concocted on a whim because I love this idea so much

—THE half-crystalized water ripples back with a waver. Prowl's leaning over the ledge of the boat. Gloved hands, twitching, nose and ears red just like the veneer of his boots.

The winter isn't the most ideal kind of climate to scour for a dead body. The sky and the clouds might as well merge with the ether as one, sheathed of ivory white, tasteless and bland. Then again, it's not the most normal kind of murder he's faced with : dead body in the middle of the ocean, and all.

All he wants is to get this charade done and over with. It's not like the body will suddenly appear when he wants it to be, does it? It'll take more than a few weeks at most to map out the entire creek — that is, if the creatures down there haven't torn the body to pieces, already....

A cloud of air seethes through his teeth, frostbitten. His joints are locked. Fingers barely any pulse of warmth in it. His nose might as well pop off, by now. He'll have to head inside. Warm up before he can continue searching for another hour.

Prowl plods towards the end of the boat. As he's hauling up the rope, the sudden ire of the floorboards creaking made him stiffen. He halts. No. That can't be his boots. Can't be anyone else's, either.

There's nobody else, here.

Prowl swivels around.

All that were there on his left was a cliff-side, cloaked with snow. He could barely see the top because of the fog. On his right were silhouettes of valleys and trees galore.

Nothing in sight.

Another creak resounds. Prowl tilts his head to listen, eyes narrowed. Then, another creak. Another. And, many more.

Something must be under this boat.

Prowl let's out a startled grunt when the boat tips forward, launching him face first into the waters, immediately strangling him of air. It's a cold slap to his face and a quick pierce through the layers of his clothing.

Prowl claws upwards, reaching for the frayed ends of the rope that dawdled over the boat. But something is pulling him down.

Slick tendrils that curled around his leg, yanking him further into the abyss. And, one look at the visage below — what he's greeted with is not such a genial sight.

Yellow eyes, a face and fangs.

[drifloonz]

dating headcanons between g!red x reader x steven?? :3

my name is glitchy red, yo. [ VINE BOOM ]. my husbands name. is strangled red, yo. [ LOUDER VINE BOOM ]

[ said at the same time ] and this is our partner, y/n red, yo. [ THE MOST OBNOXIOUS VINE BOOM YOU'VE EVER HEARD ]

sorry. Anyways that was a yes. i assume this is polyamorous bc i always assume that by default ( love triangles are boring, fight me )

long As usual and im not too proud of this ( i ramble too much!! i get too into the dynamics and the issues and the characterization rather than just the lovey fluffy stuff ppl prob want!!! ) but i hope it suffices

glitchy red x reader x steven headcanons!

ღ i have no idea in what situation you'd start dating the two of them, and i have no idea how steven and glitchy met either. but hey. You're all in a relationship now. This is a win for red emoboy kissers

ღ i like to think glitchy and steven argue sometimes. its honestly mostly glitchy getting angry, and then steven responding in an entirely neutral tone, and glitchy getting angrier and mistaking it for vague passive aggressiveness bc steven's tone is hard to read a lot of the time. To be fair steven is sometimes smug or passive-aggressive when he feels comfortable being like that, mainly with glitchy since he likes to piss him off as a joke. he usually does this later on in a relationship since he initially doesn't speak much. please calm them both down theyll bite eachother ( not really ) ( ... i mean ok, glitchy will probably bite, but it'd barely make steven flinch )

ღ if they ever have a genuine argument both of them usually don't apologize without a bit of nudging. or until like. weeks later. please nudge them in that direction for a Healthier Relationship. they'll kiss and make up and then kiss you at the same time. they both love u very much <33

ღ two very big scary boyfriends <333. glitchy is the one who obviously lets himself show emotion a lot more visibly - at least, his rage. if anyone is shitty to you glitchy is going off on their ass verbally, and steven is just staring at them. like. fucking death glaring. neither of them will genuinely hurt anyone unless they hurt anyone within the relationship first, but they do have thoughts about it. They Consider It.

ღ glitchy likes to explore a lot more than steven does - mostly pacing and taking a stroll to clear his mind or let off steam after an argument or negative experience. if you also want to then glitchy and you will drag a tentative steven around by the hair. he just lets it happen at this point. Most stable polycule.

ღ you two will usually end up in a cafe or smth bc glitchy is the one who usually initiates dates, due to just exploring and finding a place that catches his eye and then mentally jotting it down for later to take you two there. the waiter will be so confused since... pallet town's local ex-champion cryptid, the current champion but put through jpeg compression, and someone who is Probably relatively normal are sitting at a table together. they didn't get paid enough for this.

ღ steven is a decent amount taller than both you and glitchy. glitchy himself is probably 5'11 or 6' and steven is like fucking 6'6 or something insane like that. he's also pretty strong. will usually scruff the two of you out of bad situations or when either of you are misbehaving. he is somehow the most functional and reasonable one out of the polycule, probably, which is very funny considering how dysfunctional he actually is.

ღ steven and glitchy both very much enjoy their hair being played with, styled, or brushed.... a good lazy day in for the two of you is cuddling in bed while you brush and braid stevens hair, and pet glitchys ( surprisingly soft! ) hair at the same time. the two will also do this to each other sometimes, but since glitchy is Bad at taking care of hair all he'll do is run his hands through steven's.

ღ if you like this as well, they'll be sure to reciprocate. do be warned that glitchy has no fucking idea how to take care of hair though. steven does since he has long hair, but glitchy just. Never had to do that. glitchy will just run his hands through your hair though since he's certain he can't mess that up - hopefully.

ღ they both have very similar clothes. you will probably joke about how they'd look like the same person if glitchy didn't have his whole glitchy aura and had longer hair. after some thinking, the two probably talk and buy you a matching set of clothes along with your own hat out of sheer curiousity. they will not admit it but... you look really cute in it.

ღ steven and you will play games together sometimes ( once again. never forget that steven is canonically a gamer. Do not let anyone forget ) and glitchy will just sit there and backseat. steven probably doesn't get that annoyed by it, but if you do then he finds your outbursts after you've had enough of glitchy back seating sorta funny.

ღ if you're the type of person to give compliments really easily, it'll destroy both of them. glitchy will stutter and flub his words and his face will become more red than his namesake, while steven on the other hand will just... blush, look away, and mumble a "Thanks."

ღ they will get back at you for this though ( aka both will intentionally try to fluster you and hard. they also try to fluster each other sometimes. especially when arguing, steven will just say shit like "You look nice today." to glitchy ( mostly to make him shut up ) and he'll continue ranting until his brain registers what steven just said and then he'll just verbally keysmash like "IUQYhnj(!*&????" . because he can do that this is canon im the author of glitchy red /j )

ღ steven's probably the best at flustering you two, though. after all he Did used to be a people person and also had a girlfriend. although he used to be stereotypically romantic and cheesy with it, but nowadays especially the more the relationship goes on, he can just casually say smth like "You look hot, by the way." and just not think about it. he always flirts in a very blunt and straightforward way like this and it messes with you two - he finds the reactions funny and will just silently chuckle to himself.

ღ i sort of forget a bunch of details abt glitchy reds og pokepasta sometimes - for example glitchy Probably not having pokemon due to the weird... cursed... poison... thing in the og pokepasta. therefore, you all have a mutual pokemon as a pet. which is a big hulking fucking dragon. you know what time it is baby its MIKI TIME !!!!!!!! glitchy might be freaked out around her, mainly her... missingno bits. missingno doesn't scare him as much as it used to - there were much worse glitches out there to him, but god he never gets fully used to it. he'll eventually calm down the more and more he sees her, but he can't help but be unnerved. still gives her pets though and she seems to appreciate it?

ღ due to this steven will sometimes make miki jumpscare glitchy bc he finds it funny. glitchy Very much does not find it funny and he'll panic and glitch out pretty hard. miki feels bad. steven feels a little bad. you have to reconcile them after this like you do a bunch of other times </3

ღ glitchy also does piss off steven and fuck around with him sometimes more than he should though. they really just like to get under eachothers skin. and then sometimes make out as an apology. Most stable polycule x 2. they're sort of petty and childish with how often they try to prank and piss each other off. neither will stop until you tell them to or until they even the scores out between them. please help them or else they'll divorce for the 45th time ( they're not even married )

ღ glitchy is usually the one who points out and pushes steven to take care of himself, though. if you're bad at doing that for yourself then he will with you as well - he notices because he's surprisingly the person that takes care of himself the most. ever since he got out of the game he craves to feel and be real, so he loves to eat and bathe and sleep and do all of that since he was never able to in the game, so it's easy for him to notice when you two aren't.

ღ steven sometimes has bad dreams, mostly about The Incidents. it'll be pretty clear when he does - usually grumbling or sleeptalking and moving around in his sleep a decent bit. due to glitchys Dream Bullshit Powers he'll help steven if he's awake when he's having a bad nightmare. same with you. i like to think glitchy just doesn't have the capability dream whatsoever ( or he does but theyre always lucid ), but it's up in the air.

ღ these two both hug spine crushingly tight because both are very undersocialized. you have to tell them to knock it off and go lighter. when they cuddle with you in bed though, they're noticeably a lot better about it. the two wrapping their arms around you makes you feel really safe and loved.

ღ whoevers in the middle when you two go to bed / cuddle changes sometimes. steven's content with being on the sides, but glitchy and you i like to think sometimes argue for that middle spot. he loves being held even though he will never admit it. please hold his hand or hug him he will Fucking die.

ღ when glitchy or steven can't sleep, they're both the type of person to just sorta watch you sleep and take comfort in it. they don't intend to be creepy about it but if you wake up and just see their red fucking eyes staring back it is slightly jarring.

ღ steven is at least decent at cooking. glitchy is trying to learn how. both are Malewifes. will give you breakfast in bed with a side of 50 kisses.

ღ if you ( or glitchy, somehow??? ) are sick though, steven will be the one to try to take responsibility, mostly bc glitchy doesn't know ... how to really help. and steven's used to taking care of sick people since he's had a few times in his life where he had to care of his brother, his (ex) girlfriend, and his pokemon when they were sick. if steven himself is sick though he'll just either pretend he isn't and do his day-to-day things until he collapses, or will just sit in bed until it goes away.

ღ glitchy has a soft spot for plushies and will probably buy and collect a few to adorn your ( probably shared ) bed/bedroom with.

ღ they both snore a little, glitchy snoring the loudest. i hope you are not annoyed by snoring bc if you are then uhh. Woops.

ღ steven has gotten into the habit of making some hot tea for himself and you two whenever he wakes up, so i hope you like tea. it's mostly for his own throat to be honest.

ღ please massage steven's back for him his scoliosis is fucking awful. literally if you even just lay on his back he'll probably like it. glitchy slouches a little but not as often. if you asked steven to stand up straight you'd hear 50 of his bones crack /j /probably

ღ steven's usually either basically always up or is up at the weirdest times ever. dude who goes to bed at like 8 am. or 4 pm.

ღ glitchy i don't think is much better but he's slightly more normal about it. they'll try to orient their schedules around yours though ( aka by sleeping around the time you do ), since... neither really have much to do anyways?

ღ since glitchys the one that goes out a lot ( other than maybe you ) he buys the two of you gifts a lot. you will be bombarded with affection. NOW !!

ღ ok i dont have that much else to pad this out with uhh erm uhhhhhhh. they may fight w eachother a lot but they really do love eachother. and you especially! you're like the glue that holds the whole thing together and the two of them really appreciate it.

[yeonjun4beagles]

everyone’s always talkin about him fuckin u while ur wearing a dress..but thoughts on him fuckin u while HE’S wearing a dress? maybe one that unbuttons or unzips from the front?

i know what he posted on ig today is technically a rain jacket but ykwim 🤭

AAAAAAAAA IM SCREAMING yk what one thing about yeonjun that he's never gonna tell a single soul is that the reason he wears dresses, aside from that he's a fashionista, is that for easy access, for you, that is 😏

it's from the way he knows how much it turns you on when his thighs get exposed a little when he sits down, the hem riding a little, revealing his plush skin, the one you love to mark everytime you're going down on him, biting and kissing his skin. sometimes, he even intentionally wears them knowing your marks would show a little everytime he moves, walking around proudly.

when he sat down next to you, purposely lifting his dress up, the hem covering barely just enough, before taking your hand and resting it on his thigh, you just know your man is on to some shit. "jjun, what are you doing?", you harshly whispered, trying to cover your embarassment, eventhough your flushed face is giving it away. grinning, yeonjun turned his head to you and rested it on his hand. "hm? don't you think i look pretty today, princess? i'm wearing this just for you today", yeonjun said, his other hand inching your hand upwards, dangerously close to his hardening member. god, just seeing you all hot and bothered for him already got him turned on so much.

you sucked in a sharp breath at how close your hand is to his crotch, how smooth his skin feels under your palm, how his long hair is sculpting his face just perfect, how much you wanna bite his pretty, pink, plush lips– fuck, you can feel yourself drooling in both your upper and lower lips. "jjun, you're not funny, people will see!", you scolded him, your eyes signaling to the staffs across the room, who has no idea what was going on under the table. "really, princess? then why are your hand still on my thigh, hm?", yeonjun smirked, inching his face closer to yours, blowing air to your parted lips.

yeonjun then swiftly took your hand, sliding it under the hem on his dress and putting it directly on his crotch, this sly man. "feel what you're doing to me, princess. heck, you're not even doing anything to me yet i'm this hard for you~", yeonjun muttered, his head now tilted at your neck, peppering wet kisses. "hngh, jjun- the staffs- god, jjun", you whined, unable to form sentences, your hand slowly massaging his hardened cock. "what about the staffs, my princess? what will they say if they know what you're doing to me, hm? my dirty princess", yeonjun teased you, biting your neck, eliciting a strangled moan from you which caught the attention of the staffs.

"y/n, are you okay?", one of the staffs asked. "y-yeah, there was just a bug on my neck, right, jjunie?", you stammered, retreating your hand from yeonjun's crotch. "mhmm yea, but it flew away, i guess", yeonjun answered, a knowing smirk plastered on his lips.

"come, princess, how about we take this somewhere else?", yeonjun stood up, taking your hand in his, probably off to one of the empty fitting rooms.

a/n: EEEEEEKKKKK THIS WAS A LOT OF TEASING I JUST CANT 😭 this wasnt exactly him fucking you in a dress but him being a tease is just flooding my head im sorry JDBSKLZJQA 🥲 jjunie in a dress is my weakness, the day he wears a short dress or a miniskirt is the day i will lose my sanity i swear 😵‍💫 and thankyou for requesting!! hehe feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated~ and dont hesitate to send in more asks!! <3

[drveamz]

🩸 Sweetest Taste - Seo Moonjo

[seo moonjo x fem reader]

notes! hi, this is my first ever post on tumblr ! please remember that english isn’t my first language, im sorry for any mistakes i make, if u like u can go to my page and request any time, just make sure that you read my rules and my who i write for :)

synopsis - you've been avoiding moonjo, embarrassed that you're on your period-but he notices. he always does.

warnings! period sex, blood kink, dark obsession, cannibalistic themes (?)

Moon-Jo had always loved watching you.

The way you moved, the way you breathed, the way your lips curled in frustration when you thought no one was looking. He memorized everything, studied every detail. But tonight, there was something different about you.

Something richer.

Something sweeter.

You had been avoiding him all evening. Keeping your distance. Your scent was different too—he could smell it the moment you walked past him in the hallway, could taste it in the air when you shifted in your seat at dinner. And then he knew.

You were bleeding.

His fingers twitched. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Oh, he thought, nearly dizzy with the realization. Oh, you have no idea what this does to me.

You hadn’t expected Moon-Jo to show up at your door so late.

But there he was, smiling, eyes dark with something unreadable.

"You’ve been avoiding me," he said, voice smooth, teasing. "That’s not very nice."

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the door. "I—it's not that, I just—"

His gaze dipped lower, dragging over your bare legs, your oversized shirt. His nostrils flared slightly, his expression shifting into something more primal.

"You smell different."

Your breath hitched. "What?"

Moon-Jo stepped forward, pressing a hand against the door, forcing you to step back. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. The air between you crackled with tension.

His fingers ghosted over your hip, his touch light but deliberate. "You're on your period."

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "Moon-Jo—"

He hummed, tilting his head, watching your reaction with quiet amusement. "Were you embarrassed? Is that why you stayed away?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but then his hand slid lower, fingers pressing over your lower belly. Gentle. Curious.

"You’re aching, aren’t you?" His voice dropped, turning softer, almost tender. "I can feel it."

You tensed, every nerve in your body suddenly on fire. His touch was so deliberate, so knowing.

"You don’t have to hide from me," he murmured. "I want you. Always."

Your breath came faster now. His fingers trailed higher, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing the warmth of your skin.

"But right now…" Moon-Jo leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. "Right now, I want to taste you."

A shiver ran down your spine. "You can’t be serious—"

He laughed—low, amused, utterly feral.

"Honey," he whispered, gripping your chin, tilting your face up to his. "You forget what I am."

And then he kissed you.

It was deep, consuming, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak. His hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up, palming your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers.

You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

"Let me," he murmured against your lips, sinking down to his knees in front of you. His hands dragged down your sides, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

You hesitated. "Moon-Jo, I—"

He looked up at you, his pupils blown wide, his lips already parted in anticipation.

"Do you trust me?"

You did. And that was the problem.

But you nodded anyway.

His breath hitched, and then he was pulling your shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, exposing you completely.

You felt the heat of his breath against your inner thighs, the way he inhaled deeply, savoring your scent.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his fingers gripping your thighs, spreading you open. "You’re so pretty like this."

And then he licked a slow, teasing stripe through your folds.

A strangled moan tore from your throat. Your legs threatened to give out, but his grip tightened, holding you steady.

"You taste so good," he murmured, dragging his tongue over you again, groaning against your skin. "So rich. So sweet."

His mouth worked you open, tongue delving deeper, lips sealing over your clit and sucking, drinking you in like he was starving.

The wet sounds, the slick slide of his tongue, the obscene way he moaned against you—it was too much.

"Moon-Jo—fuck—"

He growled against your skin, sending vibrations through you. His fingers dug into your thighs, his pace relentless. He loved this. Loved the taste of you, the scent of your arousal mixed with the dark, coppery tang of blood.

He didn’t shy away from it. He embraced it.

And that alone sent you spiraling.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned, his hips grinding against nothing, desperate, needy.

"More," he breathed against your soaked flesh. "Give me more."

His tongue pushed deeper, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin, not quite biting, just teasing. Just reminding you of what he was.

And that—that—was what pushed you over the edge.

You came with a broken moan, thighs trembling, pleasure crashing through you in waves. Moon-Jo growled as you pulsed against his tongue, his grip unrelenting as he rode you through it, savoring every drop, every twitch, every little gasp.

Even when you tried to pull away, he didn’t let you.

"Not yet," he murmured, licking you clean, slow and thorough, sending aftershocks through your already-sensitive body. "I want all of it."

You whimpered, hands still tangled in his hair, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

Only then did he finally pull back, his lips and chin glistening with your slick and blood.

He licked them clean, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Perfect," he whispered, standing slowly, towering over you once more. His hands slid up your sides, his touch reverent, possessive.

"You’re mine now," he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. "You know that, don’t you?"

Your body still ached, still trembled, but you nodded.

Moon-Jo smiled.

And then he kissed you again—deep and slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Letting you feel just how much he adored you.

[doctormage]

if i ever replay rdr2 im gonna take arthur to the theater like every other day

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

im currently writing rn and i love gigi's dialogues the most, so i'm back here to read and get inspired from her amazing words (long annotations below) ⬇️

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened.

pussy

Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 

my poor baby who had to take care of herself for too long (love love this sentence)

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—

the butterflies i felt from reading this line

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.” "You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

i love their banters fr

“At least they’re not murder—”

one thing i love is how this fic is similar but deviates from the original canon plot and i love that you managed to capture the same essence!

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.“Helping you.”

when the bare minimum got me kicking my feet 🤭

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener.

this is such a standout line when i first read it cause i love how u captured the atmosphere of cheap motels (LOL)

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh.

CAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO OUT HER HAND 🫠

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the underlying edge of irritation. "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

the one BED TROPE YES

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear surged through you, your body instinctively fighting against his hold as you struggled to break free.

one thing i love more than the one bed trope is the nightmare one that follows it 😈

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear and disbelief. "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

MY POOR BABY OHMYGOD

But then, instinct kicked in, and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could. Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 

i love love LOVE how you write intimate moments like this

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

his voice so soft, just above her heartbeat? shut up your writing EATS

It served as another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 

YOUR CHARACTERIZATION OF RAFE I LOVE SO SO SO MUCH

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that." You felt like there was more to the story.

yeah 🤨

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

damn shit, because he wants to be ur bf 😉

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

me, reader, "damn that's so long ago why won't u forget about it" me, irl, *i've held year-long grudges against people for stealing my pencils*

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

he's so insecure 🥺

“Right,” You swallow, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

DAMNNNN

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion, his movements graceful yet filled with an underlying urgency. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch wavered between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. It was as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 

INTIMATE INTIMATE INTIMATEEE 💘

“You can’t kiss me to avoid questions, Rafe.”"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

reminds me of that specific scene in 10 things i hate about you

"I know," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with emotion. "But for now, can we just...be?"You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

my poor babies i love; they r unfortunately stuck in a situationship 😭

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.

word count: 6k...

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination. 

There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.

Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 

Initially, there was an undeniable tension between you and Rafe.

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.

You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash. In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets. Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.

Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the knot of frustration building in your chest. He was so fucking insufferable. 

"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?" you shot back in defiance.

He shot you a glare, but you can't help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."

You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.

"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

Rafe rolled his eyes, his frustration evident in the way he tugged at his hair, "C'mon,” he scoffed, his voice tinged with impatience. "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."

You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness. On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause. There was no third chance. 

“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.

Rafe’s stare flickered with a hint of irritation,  “I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”

"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

"Keep your voice down."

The tension between you two was palpable, but there was no time to dwell on it. You both turned your attention back to the task at hand. The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom. As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards. Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.

“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”

Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back. Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.

“C’mon,” He whispered urgently, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”

You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat. 

“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously. Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a surge of hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within reach.

As Rafe guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.

He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving," you snapped back, your voice tense.

Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave a potential threat.

"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but edged with irritation.

"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."

You whipped your head around to glare at him. “No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”

His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints”

“At least they’re not murder—”

You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin, unforgiving line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger radiating from him was answer enough to you.

He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency. The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.

What could you possibly say? Apologize? There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words. It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.

The sound of the engine became a steady thrum, drowning out any other noise, as if creating a barrier between you and the rest of the world. You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past pressing down on you like a lead blanket. It was done. And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t. 

Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like a never-ending path.

After what felt like an eternity, a sliver of light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. The worst was over, for now at least.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike. He was all focus still, facade slipping away to reveal that calculating side that had always unnerved you. 

You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.

“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, the edge of anger dulled by exhaustion.

Rafe glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."

“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”

He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”

The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end. Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death. 

"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”

You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that twisted in your gut. 

“You know what I meant, Rafe.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you pressed on, determined to break through the wall of resentment that had formed between you, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”

Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.

“If you say so.”

As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.

Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.  You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water laps gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.

“Helping you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness. In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.

“Right.”

As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps, despite your efforts to remain composed. You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had anticipated, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.

"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.

He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”

With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps. The warm, humid air carried the scent of salt and seaweed, adding to the coastal ambiance. As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.

After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island. The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.

"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."

“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.

"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."

His what? Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly masked your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a knack for getting what he wanted. To pretend and lie his way out.

The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"

"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks. 

The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment. "Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."

"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”

Baby?

He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway ahead.

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.

“After you.”

You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.

"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."

You sank onto the edge of the bed with a weary sigh “Better than my room back home.”

“Really?”

"Don't act so surprised," you said with a wry smile, a hint of defiance creeping into your tone. "We're not exactly living in luxury over there."

You could see the realization dawn on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the underlying edge of irritation. "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously?" you ask, a hint of incredulity coloring your voice. "You'd actually sleep on the floor?"

He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."

You didn’t want to delve into that. Instead, you only studied him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none. Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.

“Okay.”

With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.

Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind. As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.

You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”

Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”

Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness. For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. 

He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. Concern gnawed at your gut as you watched him, the sight of him trapped in a nightmare and it weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.

Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his restless slumber. "Hey, wake up."

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear surged through you, your body instinctively fighting against his hold as you struggled to break free.

"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for release. But he was lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.

Panic took over you as the world blurred around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp, "Rafe!"

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat vanished, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed. Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear and disbelief. "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs. It was a startling sight, seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say in the face of such raw emotion. But then, instinct kicked in, and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.

He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could. Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”

Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you in the present moment and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.

After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”

You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead, your touch gentle and reassuring. "I know," you whispered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”

You don't know why you offer him that solace.

"You do?"

You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light. 

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice soft but steady. "They’re pretty bad too.”

There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside. Then, Rafe spoke again, his voice tinged with curiosity, "What do you dream about?"

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression urged you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once, “Luke. You?”

Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."

You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing. He wasn't like you.

“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."

"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily. With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded, his defenses crumbling. 

"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."

With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed, his usual bravado replaced by a rare hesitancy. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you, a wave of warmth and comfort washed over you, “Don’t snore.”

“Not more than you do.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt more bearable. When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.

"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."

You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you. Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions and weaknesses. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.

Pushing aside your conflicting emotions, you rose from the bed and stretched. The events of the previous night began to fade into the background as you focused on the task at hand: a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl. You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.

As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a soothing balm, washing away the remnants of fear and tension from the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on the simple act of washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.

Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness, his vulnerability laid bare. It served as another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 

You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.

“Huh, good morning to you too.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”

Rafe stood leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction. His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.

"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."

You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”

He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.

"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"

“Will you shut up?”

Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall. There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room. The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.

“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.

You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast. As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing Rafe talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to coast through life on his family’s wealth and influence. But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.

When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “Is your contact here, yet?”

“Nah, only tomorrow.”

“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”

“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”

"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"

Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food, a hint of surprise in his expression. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.��

You felt like there was more to the story.

“Oh.”

He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”

“Sure.”

You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?” 

“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant. 

You leaned forward, expression softening as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”

“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catches you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness and irritation. You straightened up, your expression hardening as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his. 

"It’s not important," he snapped, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Just drop it, okay?"

You recoiled slightly at his harsh tone, the sting of his words making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this. But you were feeling inspired.

“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration bubbling over. You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”

"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

The words stung like a slap to the face. Resentment flared within you; the color drained from your face.

"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"

He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”

You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.

"You think I don't know that?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"

His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”

"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."

Can't trust you, you think that's what he wants to say.

“Right,” You swallow, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”

His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”

"I don't understand you."

"Neither do I."

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion, his movements graceful yet filled with an underlying urgency. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch wavered between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. It was as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You can’t kiss me to avoid questions, Rafe.”

"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I know," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with emotion. "But for now, can we just...be?"

You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come.