#that's the kind of mistake you just have to laugh at

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part5

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: sadnesses.

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He’d never thought of himself as someone who could be in a serious relationship. He never thought he could be devoted enough, or love someone that deeply. For Rafe, it was beyond impossible. Fleeting interests had always come first in his life.

It’s not that he found it difficult to connect or share feelings with someone; he just never wanted to. He’d always seen it as a waste of time.

Whether love even existed was something he still wasn’t sure of, because he didn’t believe in it.

But he was sure the feelings he had for you were real. He couldn’t say it was love—he wasn’t even sure love existed in that way. But the affection he felt for you was beyond words.

Yes, he was rich—rich enough to support his family for three generations. But he quickly realized that the bond he had with you was his real wealth.

He’d never thought of you as different from anyone else. To him, you were a typical Kook: rich, aware of your own beauty. To overlook that beauty, he would have to be blind.

Yes, he’d liked girls before. He liked spending time with them, preferring quick, physical flings over emotional entanglements. He was the kind of guy who enjoyed one-night stands.

Until he met you.

You’d met in a completely ordinary way. You already knew of each other; you both came from the island’s wealthiest families. It was impossible not to know one another.

When you ended up side by side at one of those dull Kook events, neither of you thought you'd hit it off. You weren't much of a drinker, usually preferring lighter, non-alcoholic cocktails. But that event was so painfully boring that you thought you couldn’t get through it without a drink in hand.

You hadn’t expected him to be there. You hadn’t expected him to want to escape the event, just like you did. And you certainly hadn’t expected that, while grabbing different drinks, the two of you would start talking.

You ended up spending the whole night together, maybe just to pass the time, maybe because you actually enjoyed the conversation—you couldn’t really tell.

But after that night, neither of you could stop thinking about the other.

Surprisingly— you were the first girl to linger in Rafe’s mind without him sleeping with her. He couldn’t get the length of the conversation, or your laugh, out of his head.

From then on, things began to change. At every party, his eyes searched for you. At every Kook event, he hoped to find you alone—watching for those rare moments when you weren’t with your family. He didn’t see you as some object of desire; he saw you for who you were.

He didn’t just want to have sex with you; he wanted to spend time with you.

At parties, the second he saw you, he unconsciously pushed away any girl sitting next to him. He wanted you to see him differently, even though you already knew his reputation.

When he realized you were starting to show up at every party, he started distancing himself from other girls. Not only did he push them aside, but he wouldn’t even let them come close to him. He acted without thinking, because if he had thought it through, he would have found a way to stop himself.

He didn’t want you to see him as a playboy. He wasn’t sure how he wanted you to see him; he just wanted you to see him as… a good person. Even he couldn’t believe he was trying to change himself, but he couldn’t help it.

Rafe looked at you with the same awe an eight-year-old might have if they saw Spider-Man in person.

He couldn’t help but want you. But it wasn’t just desire—he was crazy about you.

Every time you talked, he wanted more. For you, he’d probably break down the atom just so you two could talk about it for hours.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to share a bed. But for the first time, Rafe didn’t feel fixated on that. He didn’t just have sex with you; he made love to you. Every kiss ignited a warmth in his chest. Every time you moaned his name, his heart pounded for you. Every time you held hands, he couldn’t help but kiss your hand.

He’d never felt this way for anyone. No one else was like you. You were the only woman who made him feel like he even had a heart—aside from his mom.

And it went on like that. Rafe stayed loyal to you. Even when you weren’t officially together, when you were just flirting and spending nights together, he never looked at another girl.

At parties, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Whether it was your hand, your arm, or your waist… he always stayed close. He liked acting as if you two were in a real relationship.

Rafe thought he was just feeling things more intensely than usual. He’d never felt this way about relationships before. You were the woman who’d stayed in his life the longest.

When you two finally got together, it felt like a fairy tale. Everything was perfect, and it stayed that way. Every time he saw you, his heart warmed. Every touch, every time you called him “my love,” it erased the world around him. There was only you. His whole world revolved around you.

Everything was perfect.

Rafe’s life had been nothing but a sea of gray. But the moment you entered his life, all the colors returned.

During the year and a half of your relationship, Rafe felt like he was lying on a beach, listening to the ocean waves. Every moment with you brought a peace to his life like birdsong.

Yes, there were arguments. But you two always found a way through. It was surprising, but he couldn’t stay away from you; he couldn’t stand being apart. You two never even talked about breaking up.

Not until now.

Neither of you had the strength for a breakup conversation. To do that would mean it was truly over. That the beautiful year and a half was done. Rafe had never wanted that. But somehow, he knew his reactions—the way things had spiraled—had led to this moment, and it scared him.

A few weeks back, you’d sent a message saying you were keeping the baby. He hadn’t known what to say. He was afraid, afraid things would stay just like this. And a message saying you were keeping the baby definitely felt like a breakup message in your language. He was sure of that. His heart and mind were at war.

Every moment with you had made his heart race with love and excitement; he’d never felt this kind of weight—especially from you.

“Earth to Rafe! Get it together, dude.” Kelce’s voice snapped him out of it, and Rafe looked up from his drink to find Kelce looking ready to shake him. He hadn’t even realized how lost in thought he was. His day-to-day was becoming affected.

He was lovesick, but he was the one who’d pushed you away.

Rafe dropped his hand from his chin and ran his fingers through his hair. He hated looking weak. He’d worked so hard to prove that he wasn’t. He wanted to show everyone a breakup wouldn’t break him. His eyes, lips, and face might lie, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice firm. He felt like he was losing his mind when he wasn’t with you, but he wasn’t ready to accept what came with you.

He liked risk, loved adrenaline. He enjoyed going full throttle, ignoring the dangers.

And you were pregnant. With Rafe’s baby.

There were so many times he wanted to erase that thought from his mind. He wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. He loved you like crazy, but this wasn’t the life he wanted or was ready for.

He didn’t feel good enough to be a father. He wasn’t at an age to start a family. He had a whole life to live. He could spend years with you, but he wasn’t ready to start a family. All he wanted was you. Just you, without all that extra.

Rafe rubbed his eyes, feeling suffocated by his thoughts, glancing around. He was sick of this stupid place. Golfing, hanging out at the country club—it all felt so fake. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, as if he was suffocating even though they were outside.

It was like the sunny sky suddenly turned to pouring rain in front of his eyes.

“This place is boring as fuck. I’m out.” He raised a hand to call for the check, noticing the questioning looks from Topper and Kelce. He didn’t owe them any explanation. Who were they to him anyway?

As if they were so important…

“I swear, serious relationships are a disease. If it’s gotten even to Rafe Cameron…” Rafe exhaled heavily, watching the waiter approach as Topper’s mocking laughter echoed. Even his friends talking like that was getting to him.

He’d already gotten into a fight with Kelce over you weeks ago. Even if things were over between you, he wasn’t going to forgive Kelce, not after he’d slut-shamed you. Topper clearly wanted things to cool down, hoping his two closest friends would both be at his upcoming birthday.

"It's like he's had a serious relationship before and found someone to actually date," Topper snickered, while Kelce nudged him under the table. Kelce looked ready to lunge at him, clearly annoyed, and Topper seemed just as irritated. Bringing up your situation, knowing it would rile Rafe, made him look like he was out for a fight. If they weren’t at the golf club, Rafe was sure Kelce would be on him in a heartbeat.

"Talk like your dating history’s any better, it’s hilarious. First, there's Ruthie—total bitch nightmare. Then there's Sarah Cameron, your best friend’s sister. Clean up your act first, creep."

Rafe could hardly stand it anymore. If he heard Kelce mention one more name from his life, he was going to knock him out. He’d rather throw himself off a cliff than lose more brain cells listening to these two idiots. When their chatter finally died down, Rafe took a deep breath. He hated this.

"Hey Sofia, you look as… Pogue as ever. You guys just love that, don’t you?" Topper grinned, watching the waitress as she met his gaze with a blank look, as if his very presence annoyed her. She quickly shifted her attention back to Rafe. Watching the exchange, Topper nudged Kelce, amused by the interest sparking in Sofia's eyes. He couldn’t help but find it funny.

As Rafe took out his wallet, he listened to his friends’ ongoing conversation. "I can't be alone here with you in this dumb place. I can’t stand you and your girlfriend. It’s like the two of you found your perfect match.” Instead of responding, Topper rolled his eyes and ignored Kelce as he took out his wallet.

Topper, like Kelce and Rafe, took out his wallet, muttering, "Right, says the guy with so many partners he’s practically a walking biohazard."

Kelce's eyes widened as he insisted that wasn’t true, making Topper chuckle. He loved stretching the truth for a laugh. Kelce rolled his eyes, quickly handing his card to the waitress, while Rafe’s gaze drifted to his open wallet. He couldn’t help but notice the photo tucked inside—a picture of you and him.

Was this how you’d keep showing up in his life?

Would you just appear, throwing yourself in his face whenever he least expected it?

He hadn’t seen you in weeks. Rafe wasn’t sure if you were avoiding him or if you were holed up somewhere, in your own world. He sighed as he looked at the photo, memories washing over him. He missed the old days, and the weight of this picture hit him so hard he felt disoriented. Your cheeks pressed together in the photo, with Rafe's arms wrapped around your waist while you snapped the shot. That smile on your face—it was so beautiful he couldn’t look away. He could’ve stared at you for hours, just watching. He had watched you sleep so many times. Somehow, you only grew more beautiful each time he saw you.

His love for you was a flame that refused to die, and it didn’t take a genius to see it. He loved you.

Though he couldn’t admit it, he was scared. It shouldn’t have ended like this, but he didn’t know what to do.

Rafe wasn’t one for big moments. He wasn’t known for making the best decisions. He’d usually take his time, mulling things over until he was sure they were right. But in quick decisions, he tended to mess up and stumble.

Hearing about your pregnancy face-to-face had sent a wave of panic crashing through him. Even though he had no idea what to do, he tried to keep his composure. He couldn’t forget the moment you’d tearfully said the two of you were a mistake. He wasn’t used to seeing you cry. Those red eyes of yours were burned into his memory.

He didn’t want regrets. He didn’t want to wish he’d done things differently.

But the thought of a happy ending with you? That had never even crossed his mind.

As he kept looking at the photo, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He couldn’t help but remember that day. Time with you had been so perfect, filling him with warmth every time he thought of it.

He remembered it so clearly. It was your third month together, seven months since everything between you had started. You’d shared countless special moments. Every experience with you was a first for him. Whatever you two did, he felt like a clueless schoolboy with a crush—and he meant that.

Who had he ever woken up with, wrapped in his arms? Who else’s hair had he smelled as he fell asleep? Who else’s eyes had he gazed into, getting lost? Who else had made his heart race like this?

No one. In some ways, Rafe Cameron was a total virgin Mary.

For the first time in ages, your family had to go overseas, leaving you home alone—for a week. Being with you felt like a vacation to him. You swam, you cooked, he tried to make you breakfast, you showered together, you slept…

That week was so perfect he felt like he was filled with peace. He’d replay it in his mind over and over again. You and those memories were always there. Always would be.

This photo was taken just after you’d both showered, right before cooking a meal together for the first time. You both made dinner that evening. It wasn’t the best, but because you’d done it together, no amount of money could buy a meal that meaningful.

It was honestly an achievement for you both. You went into the kitchen at six and finally finished cooking by nine. At one point, you even considered ordering pizza but convinced each other you were close to done. And then you spent another two hours in the kitchen—guess it wasn’t so “close” after all.

It was such a beautiful day.

After dinner, you’d made sex.

As he felt his smile widen at the memory, a sudden jab to his leg snapped his attention back. His smile faded instantly, replaced by his usual hard look. Trying to figure out what had happened, he noticed the waitress waiting for him. Frustration bubbled up in him for interrupting his happy thoughts of you. He looked away from the photo, quickly pulling out his card without making eye contact. He knew that if he looked at you, he wouldn’t be able to look away.

"Sofia’s waiting. Just give her what she wants," Topper teased, a smirk on his face, as Rafe sighed and tapped his card.

If he gave attention to every girl who showed interest, like he used to, he’d never be able to keep a serious relationship. Not that he was sure your relationship was even still… ongoing.

But he was certain he’d be off the market for a while. Touching someone else after you didn’t feel right. Embarrassingly enough, he doubted he’d even, well, respond to anyone else.

He stood up, grabbing his keys as he hurried past the waitress without a second glance. As crazy as it might make him to be alone, he couldn’t handle his friends’ stupid conversations any longer.

Even if it drove him mad, he couldn’t stay by Topper or Kelce’s side for another second.

As soon as he got in his car, his phone rang, and he let out a long sigh. Not a single moment of peace today. His thin veneer of calm was barely hanging on, and it felt like the day was determined to shatter it. Starting the car, he glanced at the number on the screen before it even connected.

Wheezie Cameron.

What on earth could she want?

Honestly, if Wheezie was calling him, it’d better be because she was in actual danger or Rose had finally stormed out of the house for good.

He was really hoping for the second one. He didn’t have a penny to spare right now.

“What?” he answered, not hiding his irritation. All he wanted was to get out of this trashy place and be stretched out at home with the ocean in view. No Wheezie, no Rose, and definitely no Ward. In fact, he’d had it with all of them. He was so done with seeing the same faces every day.

All he wanted was silence.

“Hello to you too, Rafe.” Rafe couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her tone. It drove him crazy. He wanted to chuck his phone out the window. Whatever Wheezie needed, she’d better spit it out so he could say no, hang up, and blast Kendrick Lamar.

“Just tell me, Wheezie. I’m not in the mood.” Wheezie was still young, and Rafe tried—halfheartedly—to keep from cursing around her. Ward and Rose had chewed him out about his language, and sure, they had a point. But it was annoying. He was the big brother—though honestly, he’d have preferred being an only child.

“Nope,” she said smugly. Rafe tightened his grip on the wheel, jaw clenched. Why did both his sisters have to be such idiots? It was like God deliberately made both his sisters total morons. “I’m not telling you a thing until you say hello properly.”

Rafe slammed his hand against the steering wheel, fighting the urge to yell. He forced himself to keep his eyes open. He was driving, after all, and the last thing he wanted was a crash. But if Wheezie kept this up, he’d be losing control of the wheel voluntarily.

“Hello! Hello, Wheezie! Now, spill it!” The words came out as a shout before he could stop himself. Immediate regret hit him. His temper was awful lately. You were gone. In short, he was a mess.

When he heard her give a dramatic sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t fazed, of course. She was used to this, barely fazed by him anymore. Classic Rafe, right? “So, I was out today. Shopping with Rose—”

Rafe knew how his sister worked—unfortunately. She wasn’t excitable, but she loved to narrate. Whatever the hell had happened, she was going to start from the million hours leading up to it. With a deep breath, he braced himself for the full play-by-play, including the time of day and every store clerk’s name. God help him if she started counting her steps…

The Kendrick Lamar dream was officially dead.

He had zero interest in listening to a full breakdown of her day with Rose, but if he hung up, Wheezie would go ballistic. She’d tell their dad, and Ward would chew him out for that, too. That he couldn’t deal with. Right now, he just wanted a bit of time to himself. Just some peace. Just him, alone.

“Then, I saw this blue dress—”

Rafe wanted to drive the car straight off a cliff. He couldn’t handle this. This was killing him. Every pointless detail Wheezie added wrecked his efforts to calm down.

“...and then we left, and we ran into Sarah. She asked about you. Can you believe it? Then she said she wanted to meet up— Family reunion!”

What the—what is even happening?

Even when you were holding your baby in your mind, all you could think about was ice cream. The cravings were off the charts. Sometimes, you wanted something so badly it felt like the world might end if you didn’t get it. Lately, strawberries were your biggest craving. You couldn’t stop. If your hands weren’t stained red from eating so many, you felt like you’d explode.

But right now, your mind had drifted back to ice cream. You wanted vanilla ice cream so much you could’ve dived into a whole tub of it.

You wanted someone with you when the cravings hit. Someone who’d put up with your fussing—like Rafe.

Just thinking about him made you tense, which was happening way too often these days. Especially now, carrying his baby, it was almost always on your mind, making you anxious.

Being alone was really hard. You’d never felt alone in a crowd—until now.

You waited.

You really waited. When you told him you were keeping the baby, you’d waited for some kind of response. You’d waited for him to call, to come over, to tell you he’d be there. But he never showed.

He didn’t text, didn’t call, didn’t make an effort. He left you to handle this alone.

To be honest, you hadn’t been sure you’d even keep the baby when you first told him. You were just so angry, you’d wanted him to think you would. But even so, your mind never actually veered toward an abortion, though you had the right. There was nothing wrong with choosing an abortion—but you’d decided you wanted this baby.

The idea of a man controlling a woman’s choices was sickening. Having an abortion was a right, just like having a child was.

When you went for your first appointment and saw the baby for the first time, your heart raced. They asked if the father would be coming, and you didn’t want to answer, but a quick “No” slipped out. Your mind wanted him nowhere near this, but your heart couldn’t quite let go.

Luckily, you’d always been someone who chose her head over her heart.

An “almost-man” who’d abandoned you with his child—he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t even a man at all; he was just a boy.

Taking responsibility was part of it. You’d respected his boundaries. He’d made it clear he didn’t want this, so you’d made your choice to raise the baby on your own.

Single motherhood would be hard, but you wanted this child.

And you’d do what Rafe wanted. He didn’t want the baby, so you’d make sure he’d never see it. You’d make sure he’d never touch, never meet this child.

When you were on that exam table, he should have been the one holding your hand.

But he wasn’t.

The support came from where you hadn’t expected it.

Your mom.

She was still upset you were keeping the baby, but it didn’t take her long to understand this was your life. The day you’d left home in anger had seemed to shock her into a full 180.

You knew your dad didn’t approve, either, but they’d never once turned their backs on you. Maybe they were scared you’d leave and never come back. Who knows?

When you learned the baby was healthy, you felt a deep calm settle over you. The doctor told you it was too early to know the gender, but you could wait. That was okay.

You were two months and three weeks along.

Despite everything, all the heartache, when you listened to the baby’s heartbeat, it was like none of it had ever happened. When your mom saw your eyes welling up, she quickly looked down, but she squeezed your hand and smiled.

From the woman who’d once shouted for you to get an abortion, to the one tearing up over her grandchild…

It was strange.

The baby was healthy. There was no sign of any issues. And soon enough, in just a few weeks, you’d know the gender. That made you happy.

Your hands were shaking when they gave you the ultrasound photo. You didn’t feel shy about asking for a few extras—you wanted to put them everywhere. The reality of it struck you all over again. You were going to have a baby, to be a mother, and there were only months left to go.

You’d be a mom, and you’d do whatever it took to give this child a good life.

You

Are you still working at the ice cream shop?

JJ Maybank

Nah, got fired.

Why?

You

Shit. I really need some ice cream.

JJ Maybank

Ok.

Vanilla or chocolate?

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[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Am I the only one that things that sator would be just so cute like if he got a little bit of a tummy? nothing major he'd still look the same everywhere else just soften up a bit around his belly. I think it be nice to touch while cuddling.

(This was anon request that was sent in for cinna but cinna deleted it since they made a mistake and the request had disappeared)

LMFAO let’s try this again… sorry again for accidentally deleting the request!!!

i actually think you’re so right anon.

i imagine that after being put back together after the incident of 236…. satoru’s forced to retire. his friends and peers love him, but it’s time for him to relax and not worry about being the strongest anymore. they can take it from here.

while he’s relaxing during his retirement, he finds that his love for the sweets you bake stays incredibly high while his routine for working out slowly starts to slip…

he doesn’t have to be the strongest anymore, right? he can slack a little…

and his body naturally grows a bit of scar tissue, and maybe some fat around the scar that hugs his lower belly. it’s a natural preventative measure that the body takes on it’s own.

when he looks in the mirror after a shower, he sees a small bit of pudge around his lower belly, and he pokes at it with a small frown on his face. he’s still toned, but he’s not chiseled anymore.

was he letting himself go? were you going to notice? what if you didn’t love him anymore?

you step into the bathroom, being the pervy girlfriend you are, you can’t resist the charm of seeing your handsome boyfriend with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey- i’m glad you’re here. can i ask you something?” satoru asks in an uncharacteristically serious tone. you tense a bit, wondering what he might ask. was he not enjoying retirement? was he already trying to go back?

“go ahead, honey.” you prompt.

“are you into bigger guys-?”

you gape at him, wondering what kind of fucking question was that. you have to crane your head up to look at your boyfriend. it should be pretty obvious how you like your men.

seeing your expression, satoru lets out a laugh. he pokes his stomach again. “i think you’re trying to fatten me up on purpose, sweets… makin’ all those delicious desserts. you know i can’t resist them. evil, evil woman.” he teases with his signature lopsided grin.

“you caught me.” you play along, letting out a small laugh. you look down at where the towel is sitting snuggly along his hips. the scar from the attack is staring back at you, but you don’t feel fear when you look at it anymore. you see your husband: happy and healthy.. finally not putting his body in duress to protect the world.

dropping to your knees, you press sweet kisses all along satoru’s tummy, making him giggle and shy away from you. “stop it! that tickles! sick, evil woman! evil!”

it’s safe to say that satoru is loving retirement, and you’re loving it too.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Rafe was so hot this season. Need more of him plsss Can you do Topper sister reader getting caught touching herself and then they start sexting and she ask him to fuck her? reader is 18, of course!

I have a few more Rafe requests in the work. Please keep them coming, I miss this man (and JJ!!)

Warnings: 18+, smut, brother’s best friend, sexting, daddy kink, protected p + v, 

—

Rafe never bought your sweet and innocent bullshit you put up in front of people. He knew that under your appearance, under the preppy clothes, the big doe eyes and the angelic laugh, you were anything but innocent. 

Him and Topper have been friends for over ten years, and have been hanging out almost everyday. He watched you grow two feet taller, and when your little girl body turned into a woman’s. He saw you. He studied you. 

It wasn’t until that afternoon the boys came back from the golf course that Rafe had his confirmation. Topper told him to use your bathroom since the main one was being reconstructed, thinking you weren’t home, but when Rafe walked into your room, he saw you naked on your bed, humping your pillow. It wasn’t just any pillow. It was the one with the face on it — a pillow pet, you had called it. The nose of the turtle was rubbing perfectly on your clit, drawing out the softest whimpers and mewls. 

He watched for a few seconds in silence as you rocked down on the pillow back and forth, a smirk curling on his lips. 

‘’Having fun here?’’ he said in a teasing tone, snapping you out of your bubble.

‘’What the fu—’’ You turned around, startled, and saw Rafe standing in your doorway. ‘’Rafe! What are you doing in my room?’’ 

‘’Just needed the bathroom,’’ he explained. His eyes trailed down your body, seeing it for the first time. ‘’Didn’t know you were busy.’’

You threw a plushie at him, hitting him square in the chest. ‘’Get out!’’ 

Rafe laughed and obeyed, closing the door behind him. ‘’If you want to do some naughty things and not get caught, you should lock the door.’’ 

୨୧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖୨୧

Since that afternoon, Rafe couldn't help but shift his eyes to you whenever you were around. Now that he knew what was underneath the skirts and girls tops, his imagination had free rein. He was careful, though, making sure your brother never caught on —Topper would kill him if he knew the things he was thinking about you. He made it crystal clear to Rafe and Kelce: you were off-limits.

You didn’t care about your brother’s rule though. Rafe was your brother’s hot best friend. Every girl in Kildare was begging to get in his pants — and now you got it too. But it didn’t cross your mind until the other day when he walked in your room. Maybe it was because you’d always known him, seen him as a kind of second big brother. But now? That image had changed, and there was no going back.

One evening, Rafe was hanging in his bedroom, ready to go out with nowhere to go since Kelce had bailed on him for a Tinder hook up. The asshole. Rafe was annoyed, but there was nothing he could say to make Kelce choose beers over sex. To be fair, He would choose sex too.  

He had texted Topper, but he was at Ruthie’s, which meant Rafe was completely on his own tonight. He’ll probably smoke a bit of weed and watch some porn later, a cozy evening. But Wheezie was still home and Rafe promised her he had quit smoking. 

As he waited, his phone buzzed on his bed where he left it. Rafe picked it up, confused when he had received a picture from an unknown number. It was a faceless girl in a delicate sheer pink cami, and her tits looked fantastic. He frowned as he typed ‘who’s that?’. Must be a mistake.

A reply came five seconds later.

You: You don’t recognize my tits Rafey?

Instantly, he knew it was you. It was a nickname you gave him when you were younger. No one but you called him that — Rafey. 

Rafe: How did you get my number?

You: Stole it from Top’s phone 🤭

Rafe: Naughty girl 

You: Did you like it?

Rafe: Like what?

You: My pic! 📸

You: [picture attached]

It wasn’t the same picture. Not exactly. This time, your sheer cami was pulled up and your tits were completely out. 

Rafe cursed and ran a hand through his hair. How did that happen? It was clear that you sent this picture with the intention of initiating something with him. But why was this happening now? What made you go and send him a picture of your tits tonight? You never flirted with him before, or showed signals that you were interested. 

He reached down to rub himself over his pants as he typed a reply. 

Rafe: Fuck those are nice 🥵 

You: They’re cold…🧊❄️ Can you come warm them up? 

Rafe had to do a double take when he read your message to make sure he hadn’t misread it. Can you come warm them up? It was right there on his phone screen. He looked down at his pants, tented and tight, and groaned. He wasn't sure if he should go through with this or not. Did he want to go to you? Absolutely. Should he break his best friend’s trust for a good fuck? 

Rafe: As long as you warm me up too. 

He sent a picture of his tented pants, which he was incredibly hard under.

You: Waiting for you 💕 

 ୨୧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖୨୧

When he arrived, Rafe turned off the truck’s headlights and made sure the neighbors didn't see him. The lady that lived in front of the Thornton house was a country club member and loved to spread gossip around. It wasn’t unusual for him to be at the Thornton’s, but Topper’s truck was not in the driveway. 

The last thing he needed was her spying through her curtains. 

You were sitting on your bed in a pair of panties your mom didn’t know you owned and your pink cami, waiting for Rafe to show up. Tannyhill was seven minutes away, he shouldn’t be long.

‘’Hi, Rafey,’’ you greeted with the most innocent smile and doe eyes.

Rafe shook his head, tsking. ‘’Uh, uh. Don’t play that game with me.’’ 

Your lips curled into a smile. ''Took you long.''

He rolled his eyes. ‘’What’s the hurry? Are your parents coming home soon?’’ 

You shook your head. ‘’I’m just so fucking horny.’’ 

Rafe laughed out loud. He never heard you speak like that, so raunchy and bold. 

You stood on your knees and lifted your cami off, leaving you topless. Your nipples were peaked and pretty, as if greeting Rafe. ''Are you gonna come and warm them up?''  

No need to ask twice. Rafe pulled you onto his lap and put his large hands on you, groping and playing with your tits. His calloused fingers kneaded into the soft flesh expertly. He found your hardened nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, causing you to whimper at the sensation. 

‘’You like when I give your tits attention, uh?’’ he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded, shifting so your needy cunt would come in contact with Rafe’s rock hard erection. He noticed what you were trying to do, and a smirk played on his lips before he attached them to your neck. 

‘’Can't get enough?’’ Rafe asked between kisses. ‘’Didn’t know you were such a needy little thing.’’ His hips rocked up into yours, grinding his thick cock against your clothed cunt. 

The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you whimper and cling to his shoulders. ‘’Rafe.’’ 

‘’I'm going to fuck this sweet cunt until you can't walk straight,’’ he promised darkly, nipping over the sensitive spot where your pulse raced, making you gasp and arch into him. 

You’ve thought a lot about Rafe touching you these past days. You knew from overheard conversations with the boys — and talks around the island — and that he was experienced, that he knew how to please a girl. He had a reputation. And goddamn he didn’t disappoint. 

One of his hands left your breasts to slide down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to rub over your folds...which were slick with arousal. Rafe groaned. ''Fuck, you're already soaked.'' He rubbed slow circles over your clit, feeling how swollen it had gotten. ''Did you grind on that turtle of yours before I arrived? Turtles are an endangered species or some shit, can’t torture them like that.’’ 

A laugh bubbled out. ‘’Rafe…’’ 

‘’What?’’ 

‘’Don’t want you to make me laugh. Want you to fuck me,’’ you said, looking right into his blue eyes. 

Rafe raised an eyebrow, holding your gaze. ‘’You want my cock, babygirl? Want me to fill this pussy up real good?’’ His fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside. 

Your walls clenched around him. 

‘’Rafe…’’ you whined again. 

‘’Okay, okay.’’ He kissed your jawline sweetly, then removed his hand from your panties and swiftly stripped them down your legs. ‘’Might keep these as a keepsake,’’ he joked, holding your lacy thong.  

If you hadn’t been so horny, you would have argued with him to get it back — you didn’t have many and you really liked this pair  —, but all you could think about was the beast in Rafe’s pants pounding into you and making you scream. He could get you on your fours like a dog or fold you like a little pretzel if he wished. 

You just needed him.

You reached for his belt and worked to unbuckle it, but Rafe pushed you back and told you to bend over your vanity. His request surprised you, but you complied. The cool air on your wet cunt made you shiver. You never tried that position before. 

You could hear the sound of Rafe undressing — the rustling of fabric, the undoing of a zipper and the clinking of his belt buckle on the floor. You wanted to look at him — at his cock, more precisely —, but he was already behind you, a hand on your back, making you lean down lower, and nudged your legs further apart. 

The air leaked out of your lungs in a squeaky rush when he pressed the tip, gently tearing through your tight walls. The sensation had you gripping the edge of your vanity. 

‘’You okay, baby?’’ he asked with genuine concern in his voice. 

You nodded. ‘’Y-yeah.’’ 

Once the first uncomfortable thrusts passed, you forgot about the initial pain and felt the pleasure flow through your body. Rafe gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your soft skin as he picked up pace. The vanity creaked, a rhythmic beat that matched your increasingly frantic movements.

Your tightness enveloped him like a vice as he pounded into you mercilessly. Christ, you felt incredible. Each deep stroke dragged a gasp from your lips, and he reveled in the sounds of pleasure you made.

''You feel so fucking good, baby,'' he grunted, gripping your hips and digging his fingers into your soft flesh. ''Is this what you wanted when you stole my number through Topper's phone? For me to fuck your tight cunt?'' 

Tears were pricking your eyes, your mouth hanging open while wanton sounds kept spilling out. ''Yes, Daddy!'' you uttered out.

The word slipped without noticing, sending a jolt straight to Rafe’s cock, making him throb inside you. ‘’That's it, baby,’’ he growled, even more turned on. ‘’Let Daddy know how much you love being fucked.’’

He pistoned into you harder, the force causing your breasts to bounce with each thrust. The obscene slapping of skin against skin echoed through the room, adding to the soundtrack of your other sounds. It looked like a scene straight from a spicy booktok romance.

Rafe brought a hand around your neck, forcing you to look up. “Look at yourself.”

You lifted your eyes to the reflection in the mirror. It was a view that was erotic. Seeing yourself nude and flushed along with him, and feeling it at the same time was nearly mesmerizing. The look on your face was hazy, strained, and blissful, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. You locked eyes with Rafe through the mirror, and he kissed below your ear.

Behind you, sweat was sticking to Rafe’s smooth chest, but he didn't slow down. He must have really good stamina. You locked eyes with him through the mirror, and he kissed below your ear. 

‘’Are we putting on a good show?’’ he asked, his voice hoarse and low. His words made your cunt clench around Rafe like a vice. He threw his head back with a groan, his whole body tightening. ''Fuck, you're gonna cut my blood flow if you keep squeezing me like that.''

You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t. You had lost all control of your body, gasping and clenching and rutting hard against Rafe until you came with a drawn-out moan. You shivered through your orgasm and Rafe's steady thrusts. 

When he started to shake, you swallowed hard and found your voice. ‘’Come on, Rafey. Fill me up. Cum deep in my pussy, Daddy!’’ 

That pushed him over the edge, his whole body spasming, cock forced all the way in and filling up the condom. Your chest heaving, trying to catch a breath as he rode out the high, grunts and groans leaving his lips. 

You've never heard anything sexier. 

When he was finished, Rafe pulled out and stepped back, leaving alone on your wobbly legs. You started to lose balance, and quickly grabbed the vanity's edge.

‘’Shit, you good?’’ Rafe asked, his tone hovering between concern and smug satisfaction.

You gave a small nod. You just needed to sit. 

His eyes scanned slowly down your body. ''Fucked you that good, uh?'' he said with a smirk, teasing. 

You shot him a playful glare, going to sit on your bed. ‘’Fuck you, Cameron.’’ 

Rafe laughed as he removed and tossed the condom in your trash. ‘’Just did, Princess.’’ 

God. Could he be more exasperating?

He checked on the way back, reading something that made him frown. ‘’Eh, I gotta go.’’

‘’Now?! We just fucked.’’ 

Although this was a casual fuck and that it’s usually how it ends, you didn’t want him to leave right after. You didn’t expect him to cuddle, but you had hoped he would stay a little. To talk or watch something on Netflix. 

Rafe dressed quickly, explaining that Wheezie needed to drive her to her friend’s house because Rose’s car was not starting. 

Before exiting your room, he called your name. ‘’You sound so pretty when you cum.''

Your cheeks flushed and you hid your face with a pillow. ''Rafe...'' 

The corners of his lips curved into a smug smile. He wasn’t done. ‘’Oh, and I liked when you called me Daddy. It's hot.''

—

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[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[fairlyang]

stranger!miguel hitting up pornstar!reader for that rain check or another video idea comes to life. p1 — inspo (half is proofread)

miguel decided to not text you that same day because he’d seem too desperate and although he was, he didn’t want you to know that.

but what he did do was look your channel up on the hub because he had no fucking shame. it was luckily on the same card with your number and he instantly knew searching you up would be a mistake.

he spent damn near hours jerking off to as many videos as he could before he couldn’t handle edging any longer and he came so hard, some of it landed on his mouth while your moans continued filling his ears.

the next day he made his move, texting you and when the message popped up you were so excited. things like this didn’t usually happen to you and it would be fun to have a part two with him..

so you quickly gave him your address and he was speeding to get there, already feeling his shorts getting tighter at the thought of you sucking his dick like you did in your videos. you looked perfect on your knees, like a goddess and he was somehow going to be lucky enough to see that view.

he rang the doorbell and within a few seconds you opened the door, quickly pulling him inside. you pushed him against the door and kissed him, he immediately kissed back without any hesitation.

his hands instantly went down to your ass, groping you to ensure this was really happening. once you moaned into his mouth that was more than enough of a confirmation that it was.

his tongue slipped inside your mouth while he pulled a hand back then smacked your ass. you moaned again and he just ate it up, moaning along with you because you just sounded so fucking good.

his hands went lower, to the back of your thighs and when he mumbles for you to jump, you do. with your legs around his waist, your hands wrapped around his neck it made you realize he had to see where he was going so you pulled away and started kissing down his neck.

he was already breathless as you murmured the directions to your room then going back to his neck, making sure to leave a few marks. he moaned as you sucked on his neck then feeling your warm tongue circling it and he just knew he was already embarrassingly hard.

he walked you both into your room and carefully climbed into the bed then had you laying down. you went back up to kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he began grinding himself against you. his hard on not only making you groan but also impressing you.

he was already incredibly hard.

his hands went to your hips then coming back up to get a feel of your perfect tits. he squeezed them and it was only at that moment he realized you were only hearing a sweatshirt.

and that was when you realized you don’t even know his name.

you pulled away and let out a chuckle when he went down to kiss your neck, “not too late to ask for your name right, handsome?”

he pulled away, letting out a laugh as he shook his head, “it’s miguel.”

“good to know, now i’ll know what i’ll be moaning.” you murmur and give him a wide grin.

“and while we’re at it, i didn’t post the video.” you say and he raises an eyebrow, “realized it’d be kind of fucked to post without getting your consent.”

he hummed and nodded, “makes sense…”

he thought about it for a moment. what would the odds be that someone he knew would find it… and even if they did, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. he wouldn’t really mind.

and if you did post it he’d just have another video to help him out. hell he wants you to post it for the sole fact that he will get himself off to it.

“you can post it… maybe just blur if my face does pop up.” he says and you furrow an eyebrow.

“you sure? i could always scrap it-“ you start to say and he cuts in, “no! i mean- um- it’s fine, i genuinely wouldn’t mind.”

you fight back a laugh and nod, “okay then, i’ll try to edit it afterwards to post later.”

“then in that case i had another idea for a new video…” you mumble and he hums.

didn’t take much convincing to put the chest harness on him and having a small gopro by his chest as you sucked him off. you were on your knees, on the top of the soft carpet you bought specifically for these types of shoots. except miguel wasn’t a professional but he was doing even better than the ones who were.

he was a big moaner which instantly had an effect an you, not much of a surprise that your arousal was already seeping through the small fabric of the thong you had on.

you were taking as much of him as you could and stroked the rest while making sure to look him in the eyes and not the camera like you usually would.

for videos like this it was always meant to be about the pleasure for the viewer, and to make them come back for more, not the person whose receiving it. but there was just something about him that made you want to see his reaction and for once not caring for the viewers.

so when you already felt him twitching you quickly pulled away making him groan, “fuck- come back baby-“

you were tempted to but decided not to and instead stood up and went to the bed. you laid down on the end of the bed horizontally and brought your sweatshirt over your tits then motioned for him to come.

he quickly walks to you and you grab his cock, slowly stroking it because you wanted to edge him. you spread your legs and his left hand made its way to you, not waiting around and gathering up your slick with the tip of a finger.

he slid a finger in and it went in so easily, you couldn’t even be surprised. you moaned and sped up, looking up at him as he matched your speed. he moaned along with you, those eyes nearly sending him to his grave while he choked on words, “f-fuck- oh baby- you’re so- shit.. i-i-“

he stopped then added a second and third finger, pumping them inside this time without waiting for you. he made sure to go as fast as he could, able to hear your loud moans.

you squeezed your tits to get with your arms, holding onto the right with your right hand and biting your lip at the camera. you gripped his cock a little more and stroked him even faster, quickly feeling him twitch in your hands as his eyes trailed down to watch the way your tits bounced. he was so mesmerized that was where the camera was facing until he snapped out of it and turned his body a bit so the camera would see him fingering you instead.

“look so pretty like this-“ he murmured making you laugh then moan as he curled his fingers up.

he kept curling them after every thrust making you clench onto them and your eyes were rolling back from the pleasure. “so fucking pretty.” he moaned and went back to looking at your face.

you opened your eyes and gave him a smile, “n-not too bad yourself baby.”

his eyes rolled back, and he started twitching in your hand again, “gonna cum for me?” you murmur and he quickly nods.

he was thrusting his hips back and forth while you scor closer to the edge and he stayed still as you slipped his cock inside your cock. you quickly took him down to the hilt then pulled back only to take him down your throat again. “fuckk baby- just like that-“

you moaned against him and he slammed his fingers harder, making your legs shake. you pulled away from and only stroked him, aiming it towards your tits, “please cum for me, want it so bad.” you whined, gorgeous wide eyes just begging for it.

with one final stroke, he groaned and spilled his load all over you. most landed on your tits but some even made it to your tummy. you came around his fingers and felt your entire body shake with a hard hitting orgasm.

a rarity nowadays.

you let him go and he slowly slipped his fingers out of you as you closed them shut, still slightly shaking while he bent down. he was kneeling in front of you, gently caressing your head as you both calmed yourselves down.

you gave the spot next to you a weak pat and he tiredly got onto the bed and he helped turn you so you were now laying on your bed vertically. upside sure, but at least the correct way.

he laid down next to you and you got comfortable laying on his chest as he went back to caressing your head and running a hand up and down your back. you looked up and took a quick peak at the camera, quickly reaching up to switch it off, “they don’t gotta see this.”

[daniiiboo]

love story- jh86

summery- love story by taylor swift, jack hughes version

dani's thoughts - yay another fic out!!!

warnings- nothing just pure fluff

We were both young when I first saw you

It was the first day of high school and Jack Hughes couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on. You had a dazzling smile that could light up the entire room. Jack felt his heart skip a beat as he watched you from across the hallway. As he walked past you, your guy's eyes met for a brief moment and Jack felt a strange connection to you.  

After that, Jack found himself making excuses to walk past your locker in hopes of catching another glimpse of you. Eventually, fate stepped in and you and Jack were paired up for a group project in English class. As the two of you worked on the project together, Jack found himself growing closer to you. 

“Maybe we can do this instead?” You asked Jack, wondering how to fix the mistake the two of you made. Instead of being worried about the project, Jack was too busy looking at you, the way your hair frames your face, how your face lightly scrunched up as you thought. “Jack?” you questioned, waving your hand in front of his face.

“Oh- urhm, yeah that's good!” Jack stuttered out, his face turning a beautiful shade of red.

“Ohh kay” you responded, going back to writing.

You were Romeo, you were throwin’ pebbles and my daddy said “Stay away from Juliet”

The sound of a hockey puck hitting the boards echoed through the empty rink as you watched from the bleachers. It was a late practice, and most of the team had already left. But your boyfriend, Jack wasn’t quite done yet. He was the last to skate, always pushing himself a little longer than the rest, always a bit more determined to be the best.

You sat with your knees pulled up to your chest, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, though your eyes kept flicking up to watch Jack. The way he moved on the ice, the confidence in every stride, every shot. 

“Stay away from him, (Y/N). He’s trouble.”

You’d heard those words so many times that they had started to feel like a broken record in your head. But despite your father’s warnings, you couldn’t help the way your heart raced whenever you saw Jack, or how he made you feel when he smiled at you.  Finally, as he finished up his last lap around the rink, he skated over to the bench where you were sitting. He pulled off his helmet, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, and threw a towel over his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” he asked, his voice warm, though there was an edge to it.

You shrugged, trying to act casual.

 “Just needed some air. You know, thinking about… stuff.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He leaned against the bench, crossing his arms, looking at you with that trademark smirk of his. 

“Stuff, huh? You’re not gonna tell me what kind of ‘stuff’ you’re thinking about?”

You bit your lip. You knew he was trying to get a rise out of you. Jack had a way of doing that—making you feel like you were the only one in the room, even if there were a hundred people around.

You hesitated. 

“I was thinking about… us.”

He stopped mid-smirk, his gaze softening. 

“Us?”

You nodded, your heart thudding in your chest. 

“Yeah. My dad. He doesn’t want me to be around you. He thinks you're bad news.”

“I mean I’m not a saint” Jack let out a laugh, but there was no humor to it.

“I just want you to know, even if my dad doesn’t like you, I do, and thats what matters. My dad doesn’t see you when you get me flowers, or when you do little things for me. He only sees how you act on the ice as how you act in public. I see every part of you, and I love you.” you explain, looking up at him, both of you having tears in your eyes. 

“Cmon lets get out of here before I cry on the ice” Jack said softly

Later, as you and Jack wandered through the streets under the cover of darkness, the world felt like it belonged to just the two of you. You forgot about everything else,about your dad’s warnings. All that mattered was the feeling of Jack’s hand in yours, the sound of his laughter in the air, and the way he made you feel like nothing could go wrong.

So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

The evening air was warm but fading, the last remnants of daylight slipping away like the final notes of a song you didn’t want to end. You leaned against the hood of your car, watching the orange glow of the setting sun bleed into the horizon. It had been a long day. A long month, really. The constant pressure, the expectations, the routine—it all felt so heavy sometimes. You needed a break, needed to get away, even if it was just for a little while.

That’s when you saw the headlights coming down the road.

You smiled to yourself. Of course, it was Jack. He always knew when you needed a little escape.

The engine of his truck rumbled softly as he pulled up beside you. The moment the car stopped, he was already getting out, his familiar grin lighting up his face. You couldn't help but smile back, even though the weight of everything still tugged at you.

"Hey," he said, walking over to you with that relaxed, confident stride. "You ready to go?"

"Go?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Go where?"

Jack's grin only widened. 

"I don’t know. Somewhere better than here. Somewhere we can just... forget about everything. You in?"

You hesitated for only a moment. You knew what he was asking. You could already feel the excitement buzzing beneath your skin. Jack had this way of making things seem like they were going to be exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t know what you needed yourself.

"Yeah," you said, pushing yourself off the hood of the car. "Let’s go."

The two of you didn’t have a set destination. You never really did when it came to Jack. He wasn’t about planning, and somehow, that made everything feel a little more thrilling. He pulled out of your quiet suburban neighborhood, the low hum of the tires on the road accompanying the soft music playing from the radio.

"Think we’ll be back by sunrise?" you asked, your voice light with amusement, but also that quiet, giddy thrill that came with running away from everything.

Jack shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

"Who says we have to go back at all?"

You laughed softly, but the idea lingered in the back of your mind. Maybe Jack didn’t feel the pressure the way you did. Maybe he didn’t have the same worries about responsibilities and future decisions hanging over his head. You envied that about him sometimes. But there was also something freeing about being with him, about leaving it all behind, even if just for a few hours.

The town faded away, the bright lights replaced by the soft glow of moonlight as you drove down empty back roads, the windows rolled down, the air cooling your skin.

"So, what’s the plan?" you asked, turning your head toward him as he navigated the winding road. "What are we running away from this time?"

Jack gave you a sideways glance, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. "Not running away," he said softly. "Just... escaping. For a little while."

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words settle in. There was something about the way he said it—so simply, so effortlessly—that made everything feel like it would be okay. Like the world outside this little bubble of time you were creating didn’t matter.

"So close your eyes," Jack added, almost like he was reading your mind. "We’ll escape this town for a little while. No one can stop us."

You didn’t hesitate. You closed your eyes, just for a second, and let the rhythm of the truck’s engine, the cool breeze, and Jack’s presence wash over you. It wasn’t about where you were going—it was about being with him, leaving the small things behind, even if just for the moment.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

The night was still young, but it was already the kind of evening where the world seemed to quiet down. The sound of cicadas hummed lazily in the background, and the cool, crisp air of late summer hung around like a promise of change. You were sitting on the porch of your apartment, your feet tucked up underneath you as you leaned against the railing, watching the stars blink lazily in the dark sky above.

It had been one of those week, busy, hectic, filled with things that you had to do rather than the things you wanted to do. Work, friends, family, social obligations. Sometimes it felt like there wasn’t a moment for yourself, let alone a moment with Jack.

But tonight was different.

You glanced at your phone, checking the time for what felt like the hundredth time. Jack had texted you earlier, promising he’d be over soon. And now, as the minutes stretched on, your anticipation only grew.

Just as you were about to head inside, your phone buzzed with a new message.

Jack: "I’m here, just pulled up."

You smiled to yourself, already feeling that familiar excitement bubble up inside you. Jack was the kind of guy who always knew how to make things feel effortless. Even when life got chaotic, when schedules collided and time seemed to slip through your fingers, he always found a way to make sure you had your moments.

You grabbed your jacket from the chair beside you, stepping off the porch just as Jack’s truck rolled up to the curb. He parked, cut the engine, and hopped out with that same easy confidence that never failed to make your heart race.

“Hey,” you said softly as he approached, feeling the soft night breeze tug at your hair. Jack was wearing a hoodie and jeans, looking effortlessly casual yet impossibly cute.

“Hey,” Jack grinned, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. He immediately stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like a quiet reassurance. His arms wrapped around you as if to say, I’m here, and everything else can wait. You breathed him in, his scent, the warmth of his skin, the feeling of home.

After a beat, he pulled away slightly, cupping your face in his hands. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, as if the rush of the world had quieted just for the two of you.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, the connection between you both undeniable.

Jack’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his lips curling into a smile. 

“I was thinking,” he started, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “What if we got away? Just the two of us. Somewhere we can be alone.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. You didn’t need him to say much else; you knew exactly what he meant. He was always so thoughtful, so aware of the small moments where you both could just step outside the chaos and into something that was just about the two of you.

You grinned, stepping back slightly to look him in the eyes. “

Somewhere we can be alone?” you repeated, a playful edge in your voice. “You really think you can get me to leave the city and have an adventure with you?”

Jack chuckled, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“You know I can,” he teased, his voice light. “All you have to do is say yes.”

You didn’t need much more convincing. 

“Alright, Romeo. Take me somewhere we can be alone.”

Jack’s smile widened, and without another word, he took your hand, leading you toward his truck. You could feel the weight of the world lifting as he opened the door for you, his hands gentle, as if everything in this moment was somehow sacred.

The ride was easy, the kind of drive that made you feel like the world was behind you and everything ahead was a little more exciting. The radio played quietly in the background, a mix of old songs and new tunes, the soft glow of the streetlights fading as Jack drove you both toward the outskirts of town.

You didn’t ask where you were going. It didn’t matter. With Jack, there was something freeing about letting go of control, about letting him lead you to a place where you could forget everything else.

You’ll never have to be alone, I love you and that's all I really know

It was one of those rare, quiet afternoons where time seemed to stretch, where the usual noise of the world quieted down, and all you could hear was the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat. You were curled up on the couch in Jack’s apartment, a soft blanket draped over your legs, while the faint sounds of an old playlist you both loved filled the room.

Jack was sitting beside you, his arm around your shoulders, a half-empty coffee cup in his hand. He hadn’t said much, but the comfort of his presence was enough. Sometimes, there was no need for words.

The week had been hectic, meetings, practices, and everything in between. Jack had a big game coming up, and you could see the exhaustion written on his face. But in these quiet moments, when the world outside was on pause, everything felt like it could wait. All that mattered was now.

You shifted slightly, your head finding its way to his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a peaceful calm. His hand rested gently on your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin.

"You know," Jack murmured after a while, his voice soft and warm, "sometimes I forget how much I love these quiet moments. Just us."

You smiled against his shirt, the weight of the words making your heart swell. You had always loved how easy it was to be with him, how, even in the rush of his busy life, he always found time for you.

"You say that now," you teased, glancing up at him with a playful smirk, "but wait until the next practice or game. You'll be back to your crazy, high-energy self."

Jack laughed, the sound of it filling your chest with warmth. 

"I guess you're right." He paused, then added, his tone shifting into something more sincere, "But even when everything’s moving fast, you're the one thing I know I can count on. I love you. And that's all I really know."

Your breath caught in your throat, his words landing like a soft touch against your soul. You lifted your head slightly to look at him, his brown eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You never have to be alone, you know that, right?" he added, his voice gentle but unwavering. "Not as long as I’m here."

There was something in the way he said it—like he meant every word, like he was offering you a promise. And in that moment, you knew with certainty that no matter what happened, no matter where life took you both, Jack would always be there.

You reached up to cup his face in your hands, studying the curve of his jaw, the warmth of his skin, the way his lips turned up ever so slightly when he looked at you. 

"I know," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I feel it every day. I love you, Jack."

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter in your chest. "I’m never going anywhere," he murmured, pulling you closer until his forehead was resting against yours. 

"You’ll never have to be alone."

The world outside continued to move, people rushing through their busy lives, their own challenges and struggles. But here, in this little bubble of calm, time seemed to stop. It was just the two of you, and that was enough.

"You’re my person, (Y/N)," Jack said, his words so quiet, so intimate. "And I’m yours."

You nodded, a slow smile forming as you wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself melt into the comfort of his embrace. 

"I know," you repeated softly, the words sinking deep into your heart. "And that’s all I really need."

For a long while, neither of you said anything more. You didn’t need to. The quiet moments, the stillness between you, were enough to convey everything that words couldn’t. And in the stillness of those moments, you knew that you were home.

As Jack gently kissed the top of your head, you realized that love didn’t have to be complicated. It didn’t have to be grand gestures or sweeping declarations. Sometimes, love was found in the quiet, in the little things, in the promise that no matter what, you’d always have each other.

And with Jack, you knew you would never have to be alone.

word count - 2911

[madhatterbri]

Daddy | D.P.

Summary: I was wondering if i could request a reader calling Damian Daddy during Thanksgiving dinner or while handing out presents to everyone on Christmas? 18+.

Author's Note: Starts with smut to kind of set the "omg how embarrassing would it be if you said that in front of your dad," mood. Also, I wanted to write smut. 😂🤣

Happy Monday Night RAW, babes. ❤️

Requested by: @eringobragh420

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @keytothewardy

As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️

Y/N's knees were bent close to the side of the bed. Hands gripped the sheets below her. Her face laid against a pillow. Eyes partially rolled back in ecstasy.

Damian thrusted inside of her. His fingers wrapped around her waist. The tips of two of his fingers played with her clit. He cursed as she tightened around him.

"You quiet tonight," the New York accent noticed.

She blushed darkly. They were staying at a hotel for a few days. Thanksgiving was the next day, and they had plans to see her family. Y/N didn't want to wake up the neighbors.

"That simply won't do. I want them to know who makes you feel this good,"

"Y-you do," she stammered weakly.

"I need more than that," he told her flatly.

Damian pulled out much to her dismay. He arched her back. When he thrusted back in, he went deeper. His fingers toyed with her bundle of nerves. "Who makes you feel like this?"

"Damian," she moaned louder.

Still not content with her answer, he pulled back just enough so that only the head of his dick was inside of her. Damian thrusted forward roughly. The bed under them scraped loudly against the floor.

Y/N clenched around him. "Daddy!"

"That's my good girl,"

When they finished, Damian took care of her. He slid under the covers with her and kissed her temple. She laid her head on his chest. His heartbeat started to cause her to fall asleep.

A chuckle of his caused her to stir a little. "Make sure not to say that at the dinner table tomorrow. That would be something. How embarrassing,"

She hummed in agreement and fell asleep.

🦃

Y/N's parents loved Damian. He was a good man who was madly in love with their daughter. What wasn't there to like? They invited him to Thanksgiving dinner when they first met him months ago.

After saying grace at the table, they decided to dig in. Her nieces and nephews sat around Damian at the table. They wanted to ask him all the questions about working as a wrestler.

"Alright, guys, enough. Let Damian eat, and then he will answer all your questions," Y/N told them. The kids complained but obliged to her request. Damian whispered a 'thank you' to her.

"Of course. Can you please pass the mashed potatoes, Daddy? Those are my favorite,"

The chatter at the table stopped. Utensils clicked against the dishes. Damian was motionless at Y/N's slip up. The bowl of mashed potatoes rested in his hands. She didn't seem to notice her own mistake.

"Oh, thanks, babe," she smiled. "These are my grandma's recipes. The absolute best mashed potatoes you will ever have,"

Y/N finally noticed the family staring at her in shock.

"Damn sis," one of her siblings laughed. "I didn't know you were like that now,"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked.

Before anyone could answer, her youngest niece beat them to the punch. "Mommy, I thought that Grandpa was her daddy. Is that man her daddy now?"

The table erupted in laughter. Y/N and Damian blushed.

"I guess at certain times they are," Y/N's brother answered. The table laughed again. Even her father chuckled some as he cut the slice of turkey on his plate.

Damian and Y/N looked at each other with a blush. They knew they were going to hear this story for the rest of the lives.

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[actuallybridgetjones]

so long (worst!wolverine x reader)

warnings: +18 minors do not interact, smut, fluff, female!reader, worst!wolverine, change of events, after d&w.

a/n: hi! since d&w got on disney+ i just had to rewatch it and had this idea. please note that this is my first fic ever and that english isn’t my first language. also, i can’t write wade accurately so here is my messy attempt. sorry in advance for any mistake (or if this seems to messy) and feedback is much appreciated. love, carol ♡

you and logan had a life together, both teacher at charle's institute. your relationship with him blossomed through late sleepless nights in the kitchen, when you listened to the older man, appreciating the little he shared with you everyday.

it was evident that you two grew close as each day passed. after lingering touches and stares, stollen kisses in empty classrooms, you eventually got together and boy, were you happy.

you had it all, you knew each other like the palm of your hand. you were logan's harbor and he was your safe haven. you saw how he would get when the nightmares were too much, feeling the urge to drink his worries away. you saw his flaws and his sins and still you stood by.

that's what made logan wonder at first. it made him wonder how a girl sweet and kind like you wasn't terrified by the thought of him. he would often even wonder what kind of good thing he did to have you only listening to him in the first place.

so, when that tragic night came, logan got reminded of how he didn't deserve any good, how everything of his always had a way to be taken, ruined. he was coming home from the bar, a solo mission went wrong, he decided to stop to drink it away before collapsing in your arms. he knew you would be home, you were always home.

until you weren't.

he got to the mansion to find it filled with dead bodies, jean, scott, storm, hank... everyone, it was a blood bath. logan's first thought was you. running into your shared bedroom, he searched, spent days looking through the damn corpses but there were no traces of you, nothing for him to mourn over.

logan turned to alcohol and self hatred, his healing abilities now appearing as a curse, as if nothing was hard enough to numb him from the pain of it all.

the day wade (or whatever was his name) came in saying that he would take him out of there, logan didn’t even flinch. if he didn’t have you, there was nothing holding him back to his timeline.

here he was now, storming in to help deadpool, the guy who gave him a second chance, stoping cassandra with the time reaper. his mind was filled with memory of the journey he had gone through, but not only.

through his head flew images of you. your smile, your eyes, your small almost unnoticeable freckles, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed and the way your cheeks always seemed to turn a warm pink shade around him. images of you underneath and on top of him, holding him or sleeping tightly in his embrace. memories of slow mornings tangled on each other and late nights spent panting.

after all was safe and sound, after wade’s world was no longer endangered, logan gave himself a second chance too. he let himself be friends with wade, agreeing to live with him until he figured something out. he always did.

wade, cheery as ever, took logan to his building, wanting him to meet blind al, the so infamous roommate. after climbing up the stairs logan feels a perfume he hadn’t felt in years. he turned to see you shuffling through your keys, trying to enter the apartment. you didn’t even have to turn his way.

it was you.

logan stood frozen, trying to figure out if this was another one of life’s tricks to him.

“peanunt, that’s y/n, she’s a sweet girl, but you’re literally drooling you nasty dog” wade says, and that’s when you turn to the two men, hearing your name coming from the mouth of your chatty neighbor.

the sight in front of you made your heart stop. was it your logan? could it be? or was it just another nightmare about the love of your life, just for you to wake to an empty cold bed?

your brows furrow as you look at him. he was older, thinner even despite his still very defined muscles. you were sure this was your logan from the way he looked at you, his hazel eyes seeming worn over but with the same love inside of them.

“lo-logan?”

“y/n?”

your breath hitched on your throat as tears fall down your face. you run to logan, wrapping your arms tightly around him. if this was a dream, you wanted to hug him for one last time, to atleast try to feel his embrace, his touch.

logan hugged you back, bringing your smaller body to his chest as he crouched to whisper, crying too. “is this really you? y/n, oh god”

you pull your head back to look into his eyes, meeting his hazel orbs.

it was your logan.

“i-i can’t believe…” your voice comes out shaky, small even as you look at the man. dirty, rugged and with stains of blood everywhere, but he was your man.

“oh darling… god darling girl” his voice is small too, contrasting with his own appearance. you wrap your arms securely around his neck once again, crying in pure bliss as his large arms came to wrap around your waist.

“i missed you so much” you say between sobs against his neck. “how-how did you get here?” he asks, finally finding all of his worries dissipating in your embrace.

“on the night of the attack… a portal opened and I came here, I had no idea how to go back, how to go back to you lo-” you say almost out of breath, feeling his hand now softly combing through your hair.

logan pulls back to look at you in the eyes, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he whispered “beautiful” and brings his lips to yours.

there’s no point in denying the hurry of the kiss, the desperation and the longing cursing through your veins. of course there’s always someone to wreck the party.

“peanut? honey? am i missing something or are we starting to make out with greasy strangers in the hallways now?” deadpool’s voice interrupts.

logan grunts and turns back to him, giving him a glare. “she was, is, the one i told you about” the wolverine says surprinsingly soft.

you smile and add shyly “he’s the one i told you about”, logan looks at you tenderly, a reminder of the love still in him. the love that he had burried deep down after that night.

“honey? you had no will to tell me that THE MAN YOU WERE FUCKING NASTY BACK IN YOUR TIMELINE WAS THE WOLVERINE?” wade adds excitedly.

you and logan both roll your eyes, you blush and turn to your neighbor. “i don’t know if he was going up to meet blind al, but i’m going to keep him for the night”

“don’t make too much noise”

before you pull your long lost lover inside with you into your apartment he turns back. “hey, wade… thank you”.

after that he was on you, door closed as he pinned you against it, arms wrapping around you, your own traveling down the hoodie he was wearing. your lips meet in a searing kiss, his tongue not taking much time in entering your mouth, joining your own in a slow and long known dance.

this was home.

“my bedroom his down the hall” you say between kisses and logan pulls you to wrap your legs around his torso, bringing you to your own bedroom. once you’re there he lays you against the bed gently, taking off his hoodie and moving to remove the tank top you were wearing, nothing underneath.

“what a fucking sight” he whispers, the rough tone contrasting with the love his gaze held, his eyes turning a deep shade of forest greeen now. reaching down, he kisses your neck, bitting and nibbling on the tender skin under his mouth.

"i- i need you logan" you say gravely, voice filled with need and passion. you remove your jeans and panties, laying bare under him now. "what a sight, princess" he hums against your hear, letting out a soft groan as he feels your desperate hands fumbling with his pants.

not longer after logan was moving inside you, his movements desperate as your manicured nails dig into the flesh of his back. his hands travel sloppily down your body, massaging the soft skin.

"i love you logan, i love you" you manage to say between moans, head thrown back in pleasure as you feel your high approaching. his hips grew more erratic, your words making his need grow "you'll be the death of me darlin' " he says between pants.

you feel the familiar stretch of his large cock on you, the familiar pleasure his calloused hands his hands bring you. but you also see the depth of his eyes. the love and longing they carry. he shifts, now kneeling as his hands grasp at your hips, tight enough to bruise.

from the new angle it all feel too much and you can't even begin to process it until it's happening. "oh logan..." you almost scream in pure bliss, your whole body convulsing as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your juices spilling all over him.

the sight is too much for logan as he cums inside of you, the feel of his warm load filling you up making you squirm. he collapses on top of you, his hands anchoring his body as he look you in the eyes, still inside of you. "i love you so much princess"

you can only smile, new tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you looked at the man that was, is, everything to you. in that moment you know it'll be alright, and he knows, feels it too.

as long as you've got each other, it'll be alright.

[kix-mm]

Will their be part 3 of A once cruel god. G/t short story and end with a good ending?

A once cruel god. G/t short story pt4

Hehehehe

Pt1 - Pt3

Amber cautiously looked up at Victor, expecting the sight of some witty smile or the face of someone holding back a laugh. Maybe Victor had just gotten better at sounding serious... but not even his face gave away the joke.

Victors brows were furrowed into a worried expression, his eyes were strangely puffy, and there was no smile, not even a smirk. This was getting harder for Amber to tell if it was genuine or not. "Y-youre joking right, my lord?-" "Victor.."

Amber winced at his voice, bracing for any impact. "I'm sorry..?" "Call me by my name... not my title, please..." Victor asked with his hands clasped together. He almost looked like an angel whenever he did that. "Will you help me become a better person?" Victors eyes shimmer with hope, making Amber even more uncomfortable than he was a moment before. "Why me? How could I possibly help you? I'm just a human... you're a god, nothing I say has any meaning to you"

"That has changed..." Victor insisted, holding Ambers tiny hand with another one of his. "Please, give me a chance to listen and do better... I'll listen from now on, honest"

That stung Victor badly. How could he think something like that? Who had told him such a lie? Ambers words always meant so much to him. How could he not know this? Was his love for the human not clear enough? His praise and kindness were always something he'd stride for. But then again, praise and kindness had always been the only thing he'd listen to, though he could never understand it, he understood the tone, anything otherwise meant nothing to him... oh...

Amber instinctively pulled his hand back, afraid to lose the only one he had left. He could not believe what he was hearing, this all sounded so genuine, too good to be true, what was the catch? "A-and... if I can't? If I say something you don't like? What will happen to me?" He asks while rubbing his arm, looking down at the stump it was reduced to, Victor was already quite fond of the taste of humans, so would Amber become nothing more than a light snack?

"Nothing will!" Victor raises his voice in insistence. "N-nothing will happen to you! I'm asking you a favor after all." Amber seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. If he was genuine about this, he would have the opportunity to make sure Victor never hurts anyone ever again! Nobody would ever have to go through the horrendous torture that so many lost their lives to... but on the other hand, Amber was a mere human. He didn't know what would be best for a giant - a god, what if he makes a mistake in his teaching? A human error?

Ambers' thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud growl, making the poor human freeze in fear. He looked up at Victor to see the young god flush red with embarrassment and hug his stomach. "s-sorry... wait- where are you going??" Amber had begun to once again desperately dragging himself away, as did every other human servant flee. This made Victor only feel more ostracized and embarrassed. "H-hey, come on... nothing is going to happen to you." He gently picks Amber up, who squirms at first but quickly gives up.

"My lord- Victor, please put me down - I-I don't want to - I promise I'll help you! I promise! Just please put me down!" Victor beams at Ambers words, once again ignoring the young man's plea in favor of Amber promising to help him. "Really? Do you mean it? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" He pushes Amber against his chest, a childlike joy radiated off of Victor. This was supposed to be a hug of some kind.

Then came another growl, Victor wanted to just sink through the floor and disappear. Even feeling Amber tensed up again was making him feel bad. He slowly placed Amber down and lowered himself to their height once more. "I'm sorry about that." Victor speaks in a soft voice, knowing all too well that a moment like this was responsible for a great deal of pain for Amber.

"Shouldn't you eat something..?" Victor shakes his head. "I can't yet, I'm on a diet..." Amber frowns "a diet? Why are you on a diet?" Victor taps his finger nervously on the marbled floor. "I...Ate someone..."

Amber looked confused. Yes, of course, he ate someone. His main diet consisted of human flesh, so it was to be expected that he might eat a human walking around carelessly.

But then he thought a little more about it, and the realization hit him like a brick. Victor wasn't talking about humans, was he? Rather, his own kind - a god. As if Victor wasn't enough of a menace already, he had to take it a step further and become a cannibal!

"You-" Victor nods slowly, his stomach growls some more. "I can't leave my room until all their remains have gone, so now I've just got... cravings..." he explains. "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. Everything was so strange, and everyone was acting so weird, and I just - I don't know why I did it! I enjoyed it so much - Amber, it was terrible, I ate everything!" Victor holds his stomach tighter as it growls again.

Amber sat there in shock, eating humans was already seen as cruel, but it wasn't frowned upon too much by the gods, but one god eating another? That's a god eater, one of their only fears. As if Victor wasn't isolated enough due to his background, now he has become a threat to everyone involved.

"I won't hurt you, Amber... please don't look at me like I'm a monster.." Victor sounded devastated, not for what he did, but for seeing Ambers eyes like that.

"But... but you've just committed the biggest act of treason. You killed your own kind - you ate your own kind!" Amber had slowly tried to create some distance between the two, but it had no use, Victor wasn't going to let him hide this time.

Amber gulped, thoughts rapidly spun through his mind to try and sugar the god up, pleasing him is all that he knew could make a difference. But just as he was about sweeten his voice and speak some nonsense to go right to the gods head he was stopped by a large finger gently pressing against his lips.

"Amber... don't, please, I'm over that, and I just need you... to stay here with me. " Victors gaze was that of genuine need. Amber was all he had. No other human would feel like they were being listened to and would just continue to be a yes man. Victor laid his head down on the surface, his large eyes delicately trained on Amber.

"You can't help me with this, I merely have to wait it out... so in the meantime... could you teach me to be... better?" Victor asked, already knowing that the human didn't have much of an answer.

Amber looked nervous, rightfully so. There was so much pressure. What would he even begin with?

[discordiansamba]

iroh was across the threshold of the room in a flash, dragging him into a tight embrace. in any other situation, zuko probably would have complained about the lack of air, but instead he just buried his head into the crook of his uncle's neck.

"uncle," he says, "-i'm so sorry."

"i am the one who should apologize, zuko," iroh says, "-for not being able to protect you."

for a long time, they don't say anything. zuko is keenly aware that they're being watched by the avatar and his friends. seeing uncle again feels a lot like coming home, even though zuko's... unsure where home is now. he'd gotten so used to living in ba sing se.

he can't stay here, though.

everyone in this city knows his face- and knows that face belongs to lee. but zuko isn't lee anymore. he can't pretend to be him. he'd made this choice as lee, knowing that he'd have to give up the life he'd built for himself here. now that he was zuko again, he didn't think he could stomach putting on earth kingdom green and living a life of serving tea.

uncle finally pulls away from him, patting his shoulders. he tells him that he is going to make the tea this time, and that's final. zuko laughs, and lets him. it's weird. he kind of thought he would hate tea after... everything, but it's become a comfort to him. maybe it's just a trace of lee that he's never going to get rid of.

aang and his friends wisely choose to excuse themselves, to give them a bit of privacy. iroh watches them go, and tells zuko that he's proud of him for putting that past of his behind him. zuko just huffs. he congratulates his uncle on becoming fire lord.

they sit and drink tea together. iroh catches zuko up to speed on what has happened in the fire nation in his absence. zuko... hesitantly tells him a few things about his life as lee, since it's all he really has to talk about. uncle leans over the table with a leering grin when he makes the terrible mistake of bringing up jin, asking what his plans are.

"...i have no idea," zuko admits, "-i think i might actually need to see her again first. i don't know if i even still like her. i don't know if she'll even still like me."

uncle tells him that he can take as much time as he likes. he must still have lingering attachments to this city. there is no judgment in his tone. and... he's right. zuko doesn't think he'll ever be able to bring himself to put on earth kingdom green again, but he's grown fond of ba sing se. it's weird. he feels like he should hate it.

it had been his prison.

he just hadn't known it.

the next day, zuko decides to bite the bullet and go see ba sing se with his own eyes. he'd seen it before- but his time as lee had changed him. he stays in fire nation red, but he ties a wound cover around his scar to hide what it actually looks like. he can't see lee in the mirror anymore, but he knows other people likely will.

besides. it's not like he can see out of the damn eye anyways.

walking the familiar streets of the middle ring as himself is a strange experience. he knows so many of these people. for some of them he can even rattle off their usual order. some of them were even his friends. they give him an odd look as he passes, but zuko pointedly does not look at them. if he pretends he doesn't know them, it'll probably be fine.

"lee?"

two years of responding to that name has zuko turning his head before he can stop himself. thankfully, the person who called out to him is just jin.

...oh. it's jin.

...well. fuck. guess he's making this decision now.

[shouyuus]

RAIN!!!

idk how i didn’t know that you were on vacation until a few days ago but i hope you’re having the best fun of your life!!

here’s a lil present i found 😋

Edit: a kind anon reminded me that this wasn't credit properly!!!! I'm so sorry the lovely art is by @meofthoois ♡♡♡♡

OKAY okay *takes a deep breath* SO LIKE.

imagine being courtside at an adlers match and things aren't going fantastically -- it's just an off day and kageyama comes off a service miss, his brows a bit furrowed, sweat dripping off his face, he's clearly annoyed with himself and with the entire situation. the opposing team is putting pressure on him at all the right times, in all the right places. you're biting your lips so hard you think you might break skin and during the court rotation, he does this ^^^^, tugs up the edge of his shirt to wipe at his sweat, his eyes focused on some point in mid-air -- you know he's probably running through a series of scenarios in his head, trying to map out the best way forward. you can see the tightness in his shoulders, the way his stomach is flexing with how hard he's breathing.

you teeter for a second before raising a hand and waving; and even though you know his concentration is something inconceivable to the average person, he's just as finely attuned to you -- can pick you out of a crowd of thousands, and of all screaming fans and waving posters, he picks out your hand in an instant, turning to meet your gaze with his. there's something behind it that smolders, a volcano minutes before eruption, the warning smoke tossed high and dark and wide for all those who might understand the language of devastation.

you swallow hard and shoot him a small smile. for a second, you almost think that he's looked over by mistake, and hadn't seen you at all. but then, he drops his shirt and grins back, just the tiniest little thing. but you know him just as well as he knows you, knows him like a forest knows it's trees, like the wind knows the rustles of all her leaves. then, you press a hand to your chest and take a deep breath -- breathe, you think.

kageyama does; he breathes, just one breath, solid and deep. you see the tension leave his shoulders, the brightness flicker back into his eyes. and that's it. he turns back to resume his position; the whistle blows; play resumes.

but his next play is daring, is calculated, is precise, is perfect. and the shot slams home right on the baseline of the other side and the entire crowd is on its feet. you, alone, let out a long breath and drop back into your seat, smiling wide as kageyama pumps his fist, romero ruffles his hair, laughing. from beneath the celebratory forest of his teammates arms, he twists to look at you, casting you a much wider grin, one lined with teeth and sweetness both.

they make a comeback and steal the game in a nailbiting 5th set that goes into the 30s. but when the interviewer asks him how he managed to lead the team back to such a slim victory but a victory nonetheless, he pauses, dabs at a bit of sweat a the corner of his eye and says, "it wasn't easy. but you just keep your head and remember to breathe."

[red-doll-face]

When Arthur Morgan, big bad outlaw, has a crush on you, it’s kind of everyone else’s problem.

low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader hcs::

Oh god this man, low honor Arthur hides his feelings even more than his high honor counterpart. Which is hard to do.

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you to make you uncomfortable and squirmy, just to see you fumble and mess something up. He’ll just light a cigarette and watch you drop a bucket of water all over the front of your dress. Even worse is the laugh he lets out at your mistake.

Lays it on real thick if he thinks he has a chance, very condescending with his pet names, princess and darling and sweetheart, his goal is to fluster you and see how you take it.

So condescending that you don’t believe they come from him liking you, you think he finds you prissy.

When you cover your face and look away, he has a very smug smile on his face.

Chases other men away from you, whether it be other camp members or people in town, he’s spitting awful words until they leave you alone or they try and fight him. Sucks if you grow close to anyone but the girls, Arthur is getting right in the middle of that. He might still get jealous of the girls because he’s selfish and doesn’t like to share.

He loves to fight with you watching and even kill with you watching. Then maybe you’ll get that he likes you. He thinks he’s being very obvious.

Sometimes he’s mean to you, but not with words, mostly holding things out of your reach or something like that. He’s a pervert who loves to feel you scrambling up his chest to try and get your things back.

Once, he made you cry and he felt pretty bad about it and decided to tone it down. Expect a huffy and hasty apology and a very thoughtful gift.

If you ever call him out on his behavior while crying, the look on his face. He just looks angry and disappointed at himself before riding away to run away from you and his feelings.

If he sees you being too close to somebody he feels is a threat to his imaginary claim on you, he gets pissy, tries to hide how much it upsets him. So much more when he thinks it’s someone who you may be better off with like Javier or Charles.

Once other camp members see how he’s acting, the girls spread the rumor that he likes you.

Arthur gets so mad about it, doesn’t matter if it’s true 😭 stomping around camp and being meaner than usual.

If you end up returning his feelings and one of the guys makes fun of him for going soft or seeing him hugging you, they’re getting clocked.

Thanks for reading 😭😌❤️ I love him he’s such a baby omg. If you have reqs or comments send right neow.

[fluenzed]

AFTER OBX

fanfiction | jj maybank | alternative ending | obx4 | 3827words

warning : mention of sex, alcohol, drugs and spoilers.

This is the first story I've written, so please be kind and understanding! English isn't my first language, so feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes or if something is unclear.

Enjoy! ♡

♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔⋄ 𓍯 ♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ ⋄ 𓍯♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ ����

summary:

— two years ago, JJ maybank faked his own death with the help of an accomplice. John B's words still messing with his head

"Yes JJ, that's all your fault"

And JJ knew he was right. Wherever JJ was going, chaos followed him. That's why he made the choice of faking his death. So his friends could live a more peaceful life, and if the the price to pay was not being a part of their lives anymore, JJ was ready to do anything.

"Pain is temporary, freedom is forever" said JJ to his accomplice.

♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ ⋄ 𓍯♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ ⋄ 𓍯♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ 𓍯♡̶ ̇。୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ ⋄ 𓍯

CHAPTER 1 'in fact, you seem pretty normal—but i can tell you're broken'

2 years ago, Morocco.

The Last Act of JJ Maybank

Morocco was supposed to be their last adventure. After years of chasing treasure and dodging danger, the Pogues had found something extraordinary: the legendary blue crown of a Spanish king, said to be worth more than any treasure they'd ever imagined.

But with great treasure came even greater danger.

The crown had brought them more

enemies than they could count, and this time, it wasn't just about survival. JJ Maybank knew that their lives would never be normal if they kept living like this.

The Pogues deserved better. Sarah and John B deserved to raise their family without fear. Kiara, Pope, and Cleo deserved lives where they could dream bigger than running from danger. JJ felt it deep in his bones: the chaos always seemed to follow him. He had to

end the cycle, no matter the cost.

In a hidden riad at the edge of the city, JJ sat across from Groff. The man was a mercenary, a treasure hunter who cared about one thing: profit. He'd been on their tail since they discovered the crown, and the Pogues hated him with a passion. That made him the perfect accomplice.

"

You want the crown?" JJ asked, pulling the velvet-wrapped artifact from his backpack. Groff's eyes lit up, his greedy smirk confirming everything JJ already knew about him.

"That's what I've been after all this time, Maybank. Hand it over, and maybe I'll consider sparing you and your friends."

JJ gave a dry laugh. "No, this isn't a negotiation. You get the crown, but on one condition —you help me disappear."

Groff raised an eyebrow. "Disappear?"

"I need you to make it look like you killed me. Stab me, just enough to make it real, but not enough to kill me. Leave the rest to me."

Groff leaned back in his chair, stroking his stubble as he considered. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because once you stab me, the Pogues will think I'm dead, and they'll stop running. You'll have the crown, and they'll vanish. Everybody gets what they want."

Groff chuckled darkly. "That's twisted, even for you. But it works. Fine. I'll do it. But if I miss and you die, don't haunt me."

JJ slid the crown across the table. "Just stick to the plan, and you'll never hear from me again."

The Pogues had agreed to meet in a courtyard near the edge of the medina, far from the bustling souks and prying eyes. JJ arrived early, his heart pounding as he scanned the

area.

This was the last time he'd see them—not alive, anyway.

He heard footsteps behind him.

Groff emerged from the shadows, his hand resting on the

hilt of a small but deadly-looking knife. "You ready for this?"

JJ took a deep breath, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Just do it quick."

Groff stepped closer, the blade gleaming in the faint light. "You'll want to brace yourself. This is gonna hurt."

Before JJ could respond, Groff plunged the knife into his side, just below the ribs, exactlywhere they had planned. Pain shot through JJ's body, stealing the air from his lungs. He staggered backward, clutching at the wound as blood spilled over his fingers. Groff pulled

the knife free, leaving JJ gasping as he collapsed to the ground.

Groff smirked, wiping the blade on his jacket. "Good luck, kid," he muttered before vanishing into the night.

Kiara arrived moments later, her heart stopping as she saw JJ lying in a pool of blood.

"JJ!" she screamed, running to him and dropping to her knees. She cradled his head in her lap, her hands trembling as she pressed them against the wound. "No, no, no. Stay with me. Don't you dare leave me!"

JJ's vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus on her face. "Kie... I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice faint and pained.

"Don't apologize! You're gonna be fine. You hear me?" Kiara's tears fell freely as she tried to stop the bleeding.

The rest of the Pogues arrived in a rush. John B froze, his face pale as he took in the scene. "JJ, no. This isn't happening."

Pope knelt beside Kiara, his hands shaking as he reached for JJ's arm. "We need to get help. We can—"

"Too late," JJ rasped, cutting him off. He looked at each of them, his heart breaking as he saw their faces. "I... I love you guys."

Kiara sobbed, clutching him tighter. "Don't you dare say goodbye, JJ. Don't you dare."

But JJ's eyes fluttered shut, and his body went limp. His breathing slowed, then stopped.

"No!" Kiara cried, shaking him. "JJ, come back! Please!"

The Pogues were frozen in shock, their grief raw and overwhelming. JJ Maybank, their brother, their rock, was gone.

__________________________

The Pogues buried JJ in a small cemetery outside the city, their hearts shattered. Kiara placed a single flower on the grave, her tears falling silently. She didn't speak; none of them did. There were no words for the weight of their loss.

"

We have to go," Sarah finally said, her voice thick with emotion. "This place isn't safe anymore."

John B nodded, his jaw tight. "He'd want us to get out of here. To keep living."

With heavy hearts, they left Morocco that night, vanishing into the unknown. They promised to live quieter lives, free from the chaos that had taken JJ from them.

Hours after the Pogues left, Groff helped JJ to his feet in a hidden safe house. JJ's wound was bandaged, but the pain still burned.

"You're lucky I didn't miss," Groff said, tossing JJ a water bottle.

JJ leaned against the wall, staring out at the darkened horizon. "They'll think I'm gone.That's what matters."

Groff smirked. "You really think this'll give them peace?"

JJ didn't answer. He didn't know. But he had to believe it would. His friends were free,and that was enough for him.

As Groff disappeared into the night with the blue crown, JJ sat alone, staring at the horizon. His heart ached for the life he'd left behind, but he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved.

CHAPTER 1

**Chapter 1: Two Years Gone**

The faint hum of a fishing boat engine buzzed in the distance, muffled by the thick air of a chilly evening in Porto. JJ sat hunched behind the counter of the bait and tackle shop, pencil gripped loosely in his hand as he scribbled notes on an inventory sheet. The smallroom smelled of saltwater and rust, the only constants in his new life. The shop was cramped, walls stacked high with fishing nets, rusty tools, and jars of bait, but it had become his world.

He hadn't seen his old friends in two years—not since he faked his death to give them the peace he thought they deserved. He didn't blame them for their heartbreak, but the guilt still weighed heavy. Their lives were better without him. At least that's what he told

himself. The truth? JJ knew he'd messed up. He'd become a burden, always draggingthem into chaos.

With every letter and number scrawled onto the paper, he tried to push the memoriesaway, but the sting of John B's words lingered like a wound that refused to heal: _"It was all my fault."_

A sudden jingle of the doorbell snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up, squinting at the figure entering. A brunette stood in the doorway, looking slightly frazzled, her eyes darting around the cluttered shop before landing on him.

"Hi, um," she began, hesitating. "I kinda... crashed my dad's boat. And my friends—they told me you're good at this kind of stuff. So, here I am." Her smile was awkward, almost

apologetic.

JJ leaned back, raising an eyebrow. Her tone annoyed him.

"What did you just say?" he asked flatly.

"I need you to fix my dad's boat," she repeated, her words laced with panic now.

JJ smirked, leaning forward on the counter. "Maybe if you ask me nicely, I'll think about it. For now, I'm just minding my own business."

"Please," she said immediately, stepping closer. Her voice softened, her panic giving way to sincerity.

JJ studied her for a moment, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile. "Better."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "It's my dad's boat. He's out of town for a few days for work, and it's... it's everything to him. He's a fisherman. That boat's his livelihood."

JJ nodded, his expression neutral. "What happened?"

Her cheeks flushed. "I kinda crashed it into a pontoon. With some friends. Last night."

JJ laughed, shaking his head. "Let me guess—wanted to show off but didn't know how to drive. Classic."

Her lips tightened. "No. I know how to drive, thanks. We were just... drunk."

JJ didn't hide his disdain as he shoved his inventory sheet into a drawer. "Drunk.Figures." He grabbed a half-empty beer can off the counter and took a swig. "Alright, let's go see this masterpiece of yours."

Outside, the air was crisp, the smell of brine and diesel thick as they walked to the dock.The boat sat there, listing slightly to one side. JJ inspected it carefully, running his hands over the damaged hull.

"Engine's fine," he said, more to himself than to her. "That's good—for you, not for me. Icould've made a fortune off you if it was busted. Looks like just bodywork damage. Won'ttake long."

"Thank you," she said, her tone warmer now. "Um... what's your name?"

"Jackson," JJ replied, pausing for a beat before adding, "But just call me J."

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'm Alex, by the way. Since you didn't ask." JJ didn't respond. He walked back to the shop to grab his tools, and Alex followed.

As he got to work, she perched on a nearby bench, watching him in silence. Occasionally, she asked questions or tried to make conversation, but JJ kept his responses short, his focus

on the boat.

By the time the sun began to set, the job was done.

"Well," JJ said, wiping his hands on a rag. "All fixed."

"Thank you, J," Alex said, her relief evident.

JJ started putting his tools away when he noticed Alex trying to help. "No—" he began, but she'd already nicked her finger on a sharp piece of metal.

"Shit," she muttered, clutching her hand.

JJ rolled his eyes, grabbing her wrist to inspect the cut. "Couldn't just sit still, huh? It's not bad, but we need to clean it. Metal cuts can be nasty."

He closed the shop quickly and led her to his place—a small, dilapidated shed tucked behind the dock. Unlocking the door, he hesitated for a second, glancing at her as if bracing for judgment. The inside was as bleak as the outside: dark, cluttered, and cold.

Alex said nothing, but the pity in her eyes was unmistakable. JJ ignored it, grabbing a first aid kit and motioning for her to sit on the lone chair.

He cleaned the wound and wrapped it with a bandage, avoiding her gaze the entire time.

"There you go," he said finally, stepping back.

"Thanks," she replied softly. A beat of silence passed before she added, "You know what?Let me make you dinner."

JJ frowned. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I don't take no for an answer," Alex said with a playful grin, standing before he could protest further. "You'll see—I'm a great cook."

JJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Just... don't burn the place down."

The salty breeze of the Douro River filled the air as JJ guided the freshly repaired boat through the gentle current. Alex sat beside him, quiet for once, her eyes focused on the path ahead. She had

insisted that JJ take the helm this time—she didn't want to risk damaging her dad's beloved boat again.

JJ's hands were steady on the wheel, the rhythm of the engine lulling him into a rare calm. His focus on the water allowed him a brief escape from the relentless noise in his head. When they

reached the dock near Alex's house, he carefully hitched the boat and extended a hand to help her step off.

"Thanks," she said softly as they started walking toward her house.

The neighborhood was modest but charming. Alex's house stood at the end of the street, painted a warm yellow with clay roof tiles that gave it a cozy, lived-in feel.

As they approached, Alex spoke, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"My dad's a fisherman," she said. "We're originally from Brighton. My mum was English, but my dad's half-Portuguese. He always missed being here—this country, this town. They met in

Brighton when he followed the fish trade, fell in love, and settled there. He promised her he'd stay as long as she wanted. But when she passed..." Alex hesitated, her voice softening. "He kept his

promise to her in a way. Said he'd raise me somewhere he could be happy, too. So here we are."

JJ glanced at her but stayed quiet. He wasn't sure what to say—talking about loss wasn't exactly his strong suit.

Alex unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on a light. The house immediately felt warm, a sharp contrast to JJ's drafty shed. The scent of spices and the faintest trace of sea air hung in the

air. JJ noticed how every corner seemed to have a personal touch: photographs on the walls, knitted blankets over chairs, and little trinkets scattered throughout. It felt... alive.

"Nice place," JJ said, nodding appreciatively. "Way better than mine."

Alex smirked, choosing not to comment. Instead, she headed straight for the fridge, pulling out two beers.

She popped the caps and handed one to JJ.

JJ grinned. "Oh, now we're talking."

"I figured as much," Alex said with a smirk, sitting at the small kitchen table. "You made, what, three or four beer breaks while working today?"

JJ chuckled, taking a long sip. "What can I say? It helps when you're messed up like me." Heraised the bottle in a mock toast. "Cheers."

Alex clinked her bottle against his and took a sip. "You don't seem that messed up to me. In fact..." She tilted her head, studying him. "You seem pretty normal."

JJ raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure if she was trying to be funny or if she genuinely believed that. Before he could respond, Alex added softly, "But you do look broken."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His expression hardened, and he looked away. "This,"he said, holding up the beer, "helps with that."

"It doesn't," she replied simply, taking another sip.

"Wow," JJ said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "You're a real buzzkill, aren't you?" Alex laughed, unbothered by his defensive tone. She could see past the bravado and sarcasm.

"Well," she said, changing the subject, "I hope you like lasagna, because mine is the best."

She began pulling ingredients from the fridge, talking as she cooked. She shared more about her life: growing up in Brighton, moving to Porto, and her close bond with her father.

JJ, on the other hand, made up everything about himself. He told her he used to live in Australia, that he loved surfing and fishing, and that he moved here to enjoy the simplicity of it all. It was vague, but

Alex didn't push for more.

By the time they finished eating, JJ was nursing a glass of rum, the alcohol slowly loosening his already thin emotional armor. Alex washed the dishes, occasionally glancing at him with a mixture

of curiosity and concern.

Finally, she said, "You know, my dad won't be back for at least two weeks. If you want... maybe you could sleep in his boat? At least it's warmer than your—"

JJ's expression shifted immediately, his jaw tightening. "Why would I do that?" he interrupted, his voice cold.

Alex hesitated, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. "I just thought—"

"Oh, I see," JJ said sharply, standing up. "You feel sorry for me, huh? Look, I don't need your pity. The only reason I let you into my life today was because you were bleeding."

"That's not what I meant," Alex said, her voice rising slightly in frustration.

"Thanks for the beer. Dinner was great." JJ grabbed his jacket, avoiding her gaze. "But I'm out."

"J—" Alex called after him, but he was already out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

She stood there, stunned and frustrated. She hadn't meant to offend him; she just wanted to help. Sighing, she locked the door, cleaned the last of the dishes, and went to bed, her thoughts

tangled with the strange, guarded man who had just walked out of her life.

____________

The beach was alive with music and laughter, a stark contrast to JJ's dim, solitary existence. He hadn't planned on attending the party but found himself there anyway, drawn by the promise of

alcohol and perhaps a fleeting escape from his own mind. Perched against the wall of a weathered beach hut, a joint balanced between his lips, JJ stared out at the crowd. His thoughts drifted to

another time, another beach—his friends gathered around a fire, their laughter echoing into the night. The memory tightened like a vise around his chest.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the images. They were too painful now. Instead, he let his eyes

roam over the crowd, watching strangers flirt, laugh, and dance under the string lights. It was then he saw her.

Alex.

She moved through the party like she didn't quite belong, but her radiant smile and easy confidence drew people to her anyway. Her long brown hair swayed as she laughed at something someone said,

her green eyes glowing under the soft light. JJ couldn't look away.

There was something magnetic about her, something that reminded him of the life he once had but had long since lost.

Then, he noticed a shift. A man approached her—tall, broad-shouldered, and visibly drunk. The man grabbed her wrist, pulling her away from the crowd. JJ frowned, his grip tightening around the

joint.

Something wasn't right.

He followed them at a distance, his steps careful and quiet as the man led Alex farther from the beach, down a poorly lit alley. JJ's gut churned.

"Louis, please," Alex said, her voice trembling.

"That's okay, baby," he murmured, backing her against the wall. "You don't have to be shy."

JJ's fists clenched as he saw Louis's hands moving over her, ignoring her attempts to push him away. Alex's voice grew more desperate, "Louis, stop—you're drunk."

He didn't stop.

"Come on, Alex. I know you want it too," Louis whispered, ignoring her pleas. Hepressed himself closer, holding her wrists as she struggled. "I saw you looking at me earlier."

JJ's blood boiled, and without a second thought, he flicked the joint to the ground and stepped out of the shadows, grabbing Louis by the shoulder and throwing him off her.

"J!" Alex gasped, relief flooding her voice as she saw him.

JJ clenched his jaw, his expression cold and furious. "Sorry, was I interrupting something?" he sneered.

Louis stumbled, regaining his footing with a smirk. "Oh, yeah, you sure did. We were just getting started."

"Oh yeah?" JJ's eyes darkened, fists tightening. Before Louis could react, JJ's fist connected with his cheek in a powerful blow, snapping his head back.

"You sick little—" he punched him again, sending Louis reeling.

"J! Stop!" Alex screamed, her voice panicked.

JJ shot her a look, smirking darkly. "I'm just getting started, baby!." He turned back to Louis, raising his fist again, but Alex grabbed his arm.

"Please, J, let's go," she whispered, pulling him back.

JJ took a steadying breath, his gaze never leaving Louis, who was now slumped on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth. "Do that again, and next time, I'll kill you," he growled, giving Louis a hard pat on the back.

"Have a good night, my friend," he added mockingly, lifting his arms

as he turned away with Alex.

They walked back toward the beach in silence, weaving through empty streets until they reached JJ's car. JJ unlocked the door and opened it.

"

Thank you," Alex whispered, looking down at the ground, staying still as she didn't know what to do.

JJ nodded, unsure what to say. They stood in silence for a moment before Alex turned to leave.

"See you around, I guess?" she mumbled, starting to walk away.

JJ frowned "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going home?"

"You're going home alone? After that?" He shook his head. "Get in. I'll drive you."

She looked at him, surprised, but eventually smiled and climbed into the car. As JJ started the engine, Alex let out a gasp, noticing his bruised knuckles.

"Oh my god, the blood on your hand," she said.

JJ scoffed. "It's not even mine. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"We should clean it up," she insisted.

"I know how to take care of myself," he muttered, brushing her concern aside. But he drove her home anyway.

Once they arrived, Alex got out and motioned for him to follow.

"Come on, we need to clean your

hands."

JJ sighed, hesitating. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Come on," she insisted. "You did something for me, so let me do something for you."

He rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smirk. "Alright, fine. Can't have you annoying me about this all night."

"Yep," she said, hopping out of the car when they reached her house. "Now, come on."

They stepped inside, and JJ couldn't help but glance around. Her home was still as warm and inviting as he remembered, filled with the same feeling of calm he hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Sit," Alex instructed, pointing to the edge of the bathtub. He sat, for the first time, JJ let the silence stretch, watching her closely.

as she grabbed a cloth, wet it, and began to clean his hands gently. Her touch was careful, and JJ found himself relaxing, letting his guard down for a moment.

After a few minutes, he asked, "Who was he?"

She paused before answering. "My ex-boyfriend. We broke up a while ago, but he... doesn't seem to get it." Her voice softened. "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't shown up. So,

thank you."

JJ looked down, feeling something he couldn't quite identify. "Well... I should probably get going," he said, shifting his weight awkwardly.

Alex gave him a soft smile, her green eyes reflecting gratitude and something else. "You're welcome here anytime, you know."

He nodded, returning the hint of a smile before standing up.

"See you around, then"

[marlynnofmany]

Today's typo of the day is OVERPOOPULATION! You're welcome. I'll let you think up a definition for that.

[gatun-gatunesco]

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