#⋆⭒˚｡⋆ b&n friends ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[cassiebones]

Okay, but no

I really thought they were two different actors for a solid ten minutes

and i was like "am I racist? Is my face blindness really that bad??"

I finally leaned over to my friend, a black woman, and was like "those are both michael b. jordan, right?" and she started chortling at me but she didn't answer my question!

and then that one guy asked "y'all twins?" and i was like, "yeah okay, they're the same actor"

but i was s w e a t i n g

My favorite threads posts about SINNERS

This movie is currently my whole personality… y’all gon’ be sick of me! 🤣

[salem-s]

CONFESSIONS UNDER SHEETS THAT SMELL OF YOU ── RAFE CAMERON ONE SHOT

── SYNOPSIS you’re drunk. Rafe’s drunk. after spending the entire night stealing glances across the room whilst the other isn’t looking, it’s time to go to bed. and you simply can’t say no when he, your best friend, asks you to stay the night. ── WARNINGS language, fluff, suggestive content but no actual smut. ── WORD COUNT 5.2k. ── NOTES hope you enjoy. another jock!rafe au bc i can. ── SONG OF THE CHAPTER goodnight n go by ariana grande

Rafe's tongue burns once again after a tequila shot, his fifth? Eighth? He's lost count.

But who cares? Certainly not him.

All that matters is that he's finally letting loose, having fun, forgetting his troubles for just one night so he can spend quality time with his friends.

Well, all of his friends plus you.

(His favorite person, no doubt.)

Granted, he's been trying to go up to you all night and sling his signature arm over your shoulder as normal, but he tends to be the life of the party on every occasion and alcohol seems to make him a social butterfly.

Rafe's the guy all the girls want to linger on, who latch a talon around his bicep and make their indented mark on his smooth skin. He's the guy that's always down for a round of shots, or the guy who's eager to participate in drinking games (and the guy who wins them all, for some reason that the other people cannot fathom, especially you, who refuses to play against him in beer pong anymore after you kept betting away your Saturdays to accompany him for whatever event he wanted you at that day).

Sure, each drink he consumes piles onto his list of problems he's going to have to deal with tomorrow, but the wavy feel of the rhythmic bass, the moody lights hovering over him and sweaty bodies cheering and singing quite poorly, Rafe can't help but say fuck it and keep going. 

Life at university has been quite the trip for him. Luckily, all of his friends managed to snag a spot at the same college, all majoring in separate topics and studying concepts that run circles in his head, but he could care less about how much he understands their fields of study and rather focuses on the fact that all of them are here. With him.

Especially you.

Because if you had gone somewhere far?

Well, Rafe would've had to follow you. Just to keep a close eye on you. 

So, with his closest people by his side, every night is a goddamned trip. Especially whenever they all congregate in his apartment almost all the time, which seems to be the ultimate magnet for parties. Not that he or his roommate, John B, mind that much. 

With a drink in hand, Rafe roams the confinements of his living room, making small talk with his basketball friends, with girls eyeing him from across the room, hoping to be the one who ends up with him at the end of the night.

Yet, contrary to popular belief, Rafe isn't into hookups that much anymore.

Hookups with anybody that aren't you, that is. 

You. The pretty girl with cherry chapstick stained lips who's smiling so bright at something Kiara said in the kitchen, a sight he wishes he was close enough to really see. But it's a smile that makes Rafe fall in love with you all over again, the kind of smile that's reserved for your close friends only, (and a smile that often comes out when you're piss drunk, because despite the reserved and mysterious persona you put on is nearly a facade for your incredible sarcasm and sense of humor, and frequent blithe personality).

Rafe doesn't understand how he didn't fall for you sooner, especially when you dress straight out of one of his dreams.

You. You. You.

You who could genuinely wear anything and it would have him utterly speechless regardless. You who love to peer up at him with those doting eyes of yours whenever you're trying to get something from him, whether it be another coffee or the mug on the top shelf or to binge another show he could care less about but will indulge in as long as he can make you happy. You who are the only thing on his mind nearly all the time, easing in and out of his consciousness like a fog he can see and feel but can't quite catch.

There's nothing to prohibit his feelings. He's tried so damn hard to forget you, to try and ignore the pull you have on him without even realizing, to accept the fact that you'll only ever be friends.

Even when you always find each other by the end of the night after stealing glances through the kaleidoscope of fog the party lights provide. Even when your hand slips into his as if it's molded to fit. Even when his heart thumps exceptionally loud whenever you're near, or when he smells your signature perfume before he even sees you.

Even when he's been wondering what it'd be like to be yours for years upon end.

Rafe pines from across the room, blinking out of his trance to see which girl wants a selfie with him this time.

Being a star basketball player and all has it's perks (who's he kidding? He's on the club team, but he likes to think he's a celebrity at times). He grins widely in his well known charming-persona, and knows to expect his face over a few Snapchat stories that he'll find in the morning (or afternoon, given how much more he drinks from here on out). 

All these girls pining over him and the only person he wants is uninterested. Truly a shame. Rafe-0, Universe-a million and counting.

Though he lets it slide because having you as a friend is better than having you as nothing.

He values your relationship for what it is and it would hurt like hell if Rafe somehow managed to ruin that. Knowing his abysmal track record of infinite fuck ups, he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up doing something to jeopardize you.

Despite being a relatively smart person, Rafe can be pretty dumb when it comes to other people's feelings. He's the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he's never had a problem with confronting people about his feelings (i.e. letting girls down easy, standing up to his father when he lashes out at his sisters, that sort of thing), but for some reason he bites his tongue when it comes to you. 

Who cares about Rafe's sulky feelings when there's a party to host?

He shakes his head at himself, getting back into the zone of the room and taking a generous swig from his solo cup, the liquor burning his throat and coating his eyes with water, and nonetheless he grins and shouts to the music.

Rafe spares another glance at you, taking in all your pretty before downing the rest of his drink.

You watch Rafe from across the room, thanking the higher beings that Kiara's gotten drunk enough to not see straight, so she can't relentlessly bully you into oblivion. 

The two of you are in the kitchen along with a few other classmates who make pretty good small talk that even you join in, surprising people that you're actually pretty friendly behind the stoic expression you normally wear around strangers. You manage to laugh and tell a few anecdotes and let people see slivers of the real you, although you can't help that your gaze flickers to the six foot something life of the party who lingers on the opposite corner of the apartment.

His smile is so fucking pretty that it hurts to not be on the receiving end of it.

You really try to pay attention to your friend's story. By the way the rest of the group is laughing, you're sure it's comical enough to be worth listening to.

But the only consistent thing in the back of your mind is Rafe in that fucking black t-shirt with his hair falling over his forehead in messy nonchalance, contrasting his normal pristine look. 

You force yourself to look away.

You also decide that whatever is in your drink needs to be stronger, because the sight of Rafe taking selfies with girls and genuinely enjoying it just sets a fiery pit in your stomach, which you know is abhorrently irrational given that:

A. You aren't even dating, for starters.

B. Rafe's friendliness never dies down, even if it's to people he doesn't know all that well.

Annoyingly, you can't blame him for paying attention to girls and giving them the time of day. Rafe deserves the attention. He does, truly. You just wish some of that attention could be for you, and only you. 

Oh well, you think pitifully. It'll never happen so might as well drink even more than planned. 

It seems that whenever Rafe's looking at you, you're not paying attention.

And when you're looking at Rafe, Rafe is off talking or doing something else. 

Sarah's nearly going to kick everyone out, push you two in a room and lock you in.

This absurdity has been going on for years and it's honestly exhausting watching you dance around each other so timidly. Everyone in the group knows it, hell, everyone in the goddamned world knows it, except for the two of you.

If stupid and oblivious were people, it would be you and Rafe, rightfully so. 

For Christ sake, the two of you fall asleep next to each other every single movie night, heads leaning on the other, and other times it'll be your head on Rafe's lap or vice versa. Sarah can't count how many times you've ended up with limbs entangled on numerous couches, chairs meant for one person, or even once a beanbag.

You sometimes walk into the apartment just to take a nap in Rafe's bed, regardless if he's home or not, and if Rafe is home he just lets it happen. Sometimes he joins you.

Most nights, Rafe and you will spontaneously leave in the middle of the night to take a stroll around campus or get 24 hour cookies from the bakery on the other side of campus. You stay up late in Rafe's room watching WWE Smackdown every Monday night while eating popcorn and commentating like you're literally twelve years old. Sometimes you reenact fight sequences that almost always end up with you pinned to the ground.

One time Rafe planned a whole day to take you to the museum and dinner after you mentioned you wanted to see a specific piece of art once. You bought 37 packages of beef jerky for Rafe after he talked about a crave for it once. 

As if it means nothing.

Like Sarah says: Idiots. 

With John B's arm hanging over her shoulder, she darts her gaze between the two of you standing at opposite sides of the apartment, noticing Rafe's warm gaze on you that immediately gets interrupted by someone wanting to talk to him, and then cue you sneaking a glance at him with almost pitiful eyes.

She rolls hers, knowing your pining is based on hidden feelings while Rafe's is based on uncertainty. Sarah genuinely wants to smack both of you silly. You're so goddamned stupid.

"So do you think tonight's the night?" says John B quite loudly even though the music's too blaring for anyone to hear. Her ear tickles from his hot breath. 

Sarah sighs, watching her brother talk to his basketball friends. "I fucking hope so. Twenty bucks it happens tonight."

John B scoffs playfully. "I doubt that's gonna happen. You're on."

Rafe is almost upset that he's such a heavy weight because it takes drink after drink after drink for him to feel buzzed. It's a blessing and a curse at the same time.

It's a blessing for times when he wants to have fun and remember the night, or when he has serious shit to do the next day but still wants to get drunk. Sometimes he likes to sugar coat it so you'll tend to him in the mornings, although you've always been the one person to always see through his bullshit and call him out.

(You still dote on him, anyway.)

It's a curse for times where Rafe's in his feels and just wants to be drunk enough for forget his own name. Or your name, since you're the pinnacle for his mopey personality.

Tonight, he's grateful for being a heavy weight, especially since he has to write an important paper tomorrow. The fact that he's already heavily buzzed which means he's on the right track. 

After two in the morning people gradually weed themselves out of the apartment. Of course, the core group pledges to stay behind and emotionally support Rafe and John B tomorrow morning when they elect themselves to clean up the mess they made the night before. You usually end up making breakfast while everyone is scrubbing counters or cleaning sticky alcohol off the floor. One time, the group let JJ attempt the cooking and the house smelt like burnt toast for days, so now it’s solely you who take the reins in the kitchen.

It’s typical for everyone to crash at John B and Rafe’s apartment after a hangout, so it’s nothing out of the ordinary when Kiara or you or JJ crash in Rafe's room, sometimes all four of you are squished in his queen bed. It's a tight squeeze but comfortable, nonetheless. 

Soon enough, it's just the core group with the exception of a hand full of friends on the couch, and it's finally become that time of night where the upbeat EDM is replaced with something softer, slower, more intimate that’s reserved just for them. Kiara's passed out on the carpet while Pope props her on her side to make sure she doesn't throw up (if she ever were to, Kie's held the record for longest amount of time without puking). Cleo and JJ have been drunkenly debating the semantics of Hobbit feet for the past hour. John B and Sarah are snuggled on the couch, the girl forcing her boyfriend to massage the knots in her shoulders.

However, the only two people not in the huddle of friends in the living room are you and Rafe, leaning a little too closely together against the counter, watching the scene in front of you with lingering smiles.

You're slightly swaying, humming to the song while Rafe just dreamily stares at your friends, and then drops his head on your shoulder while he gazes. 

"I missed you tonight, Snaps," Rafe murmurs softly, compassionately, genuinely heart felt.

Despite the lurch in your heart at the nickname he's been using for years (you choke on a ginger snap one time), you manage a small laugh. "I've been here the whole time?"

He doesn't take that for an answer. "Didn't talk to you, though."

"Talking to you now, actually."

All Rafe does is hum in response, feeling warm in his embrace and caged in but in the best way. His cologne has probably imprinted on your scent at this point, given how your life always seems to smell like him, even when he's not around.

There's a moment where you think he's going to say something else, something deeper, based on the way his breath evens and how his hand that has been tracing the fabric of the end of your shirt slows down, as if in calculation.

Your breath hitches.

But he lets out a drunken laugh. "Re-remember when Sarah tripped in the parking lot yesterday and-and-and John B's drink went flying because he screamed so loud?"

You match his drunken laugh, shoulders slightly bouncing from it to mask the thumping of your heart. "And then we nearly pissed ourselves laughing while Kie complained she couldn't picture it herself because she wasn't looking."

As if it's second nature, you find his hand and trace your fingertips over his calloused knuckles, mapping the ridges and grooves you've grown to memorize. At this point, you could create a constellation map based on the markings on his body alone.

Rafe snorts, taking the last swig of his drink before throwing it over his shoulder, the cup landed hazardously in the trash-warzone of a kitchen.

"That was a good day, Snaps. Good...good day."

Rafe's lean is a little too strong to the point where you have to steady yourself just to keep the both of you upright, your hands stabilizing him on his chest and lower back. You take this as the normal cue that he's ready to start getting ready for bed, or else he goes on a drinking rampage until dawn or goes missing.

(That happened once and it wasn't very fun for anyone, except for Rafe who had the time of his life at the 24 hour karaoke machine at Jimmy's down the road). 

"Alright, Rafe," you say with a knowing smile, "you're done for the night." And before he can whine and protest, you add, "You have your engineering paper tomorrow and it's Jen's birthday, so you can't be too hungover or missing."

Rafe slumps in your grasp, gutting his lower lip to emphasize his reluctance even though his eyelids are all of a sudden growing heavier and heavier-

"Fine. But you have to come with me."

"That was the plan."

You shoot Sarah a look, gesturing to her brother (who's nearly asleep and limp in your grasp) and she nods back at you, but not without a wink and a thumbs up from John B.

Thank god it's dark in the room or else you'd never hear the end of the heat that you feel rising to your face, no doubt flushing your features.

Despite your hot cheeks and slightly fogged vision, you lead Rafe to his room, the last door on the left at the end of the hallway.

His room has scattered clothes and school supplies (???) all over the floor and you feel like Indiana Jones trying to avoid them as if they're boobie traps. You don't have time to admire the movie and TV show posters coating Rafe's walls, especially the wall of photos of the people who are important to him.

You always felt flattered that your picture is up there more than once. More than that, maybe try almost all of them. But you're just friends.

Good friends.

You gently let Rafe down on the bed and his bleary eyes nearly make you melt on the spot, and it takes a lot of self restraint to not kiss him right then and there. His blue eyes are dull and dilated when he looks up at you, but also warm and inviting. It doesn't help that his grin is sleepy and charming at the same time, or that he's waiting for you to curl up right next to him in your designated spot. 

You slip off Rafe’s sneakers and socks before stripping your own shoes, socks, and jeans (not before snagging a pair of his boxers) before turning on his LED lights, the automatic setting set to the color red.

Great.

You ignore the mood behind the color and climb over Rafe to get in your designated spot, making sure there's nothing under the sheets like his laptop or a chicken wing (which you found once, and nearly yelled his ear off about how disgusting it was. Rafe, who was drunk, ended up crying and you had no choice but to hug him and tell him it was okay, even though it was really gross). 

Settling into your spot on the bed, it feels more spacious without Kiara or JJ squeezing in next to you, resulting in you and Rafe being smushed together almost every time, not that either of you essentially minded.

But now there's more room and it feels almost empty without so many people in it.

Oh, how you wish Rafe would move closer to you, perhaps lay his head on your chest or-

Rafe says your name quietly, eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Rafe."

"I have a question for you," he slurs.

Your heart skips a beat, but nonetheless respond quietly with an: "Okay."

Rafe turns to face you and you now realize that the bed isn't that spacious after all, and your faces are mere inches away from each other. His blue eyes look grey in the red light and the shadow casted upon his face nearly sends electricity through your veins, but perhaps that's just the alcohol buzzing through you or the few hits of a joint you had earlier. Either way, you don’t want to admit that you’re feeling so anxious because of six stupid words that can lead to anything.

What if he asks you about your feelings? What would you say, and what is Rafe going to remember the next morning? Just so many uncertainties with-

"Do you think Mongo has feelings?"

Wh- Mongo? John B’s cat?

You nearly burst out laughing right in his face, but take note of the serious undertones of his gaze, blue eyes slightly etched in something teetering before curiosity and worry, as if this question is the deciding factor of his mood for the rest of the night — or morning, that is.

Furrowing your brow, you can’t help but answer with a slanted smile.

"I think he does. I mean, he gets happy when you pet him and sad when you don't feel him at exactly five in the afternoon," you explain, voice hoarse from all the singing and yelling.

Listening to yourself in such a quieter environment is almost shocking, even though you can feel the vibrations of the music from down the hall.

Despite your inner turmoil, Rafe almost looks relieved, sighing. "Oh good. I was worrying about that."

“For how long?”

“Like, three hours,” he answers quietly, intently. “At least. It was really bothering me.”

Now you can’t help but laugh.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask, refraining from brushing away the hair on his forehead. “You could’ve saved yourself all the anxiety if you just asked.”

Rafe only shrugs as much as his horizontal position will allow him, his gaze returning to the ceiling in sudden seriousness.

“I have a lot of things I wanna ask but can’t.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, how casually they roll off his tongue as if they don’t carry such a tumultuous backbone to it.

He’s drunk, you think.

And you are too. Nothing can be taken to heart right now.

You push the implications down and manage a small smile. “Well, it’s funny you say that because I’m the all-knowing higher god trapped in a woman’s body for the next, er, ten minutes.”

Rafe lulls his head to the side to look at you, a smirk ghosting his lips. “Only ten minutes?”

“Yeah, so ask away.”

And then he pauses. "So, twenty questions, you and me?”

"I thought it was twenty one questions?"

"What? I mean, if you want to know more about my life, Snaps, then you should've just said so. No shame in wanting to know all about the Rafe Cameron experience."

"Okay, I’m taking it all back."

Rafe laughs drunkenly and you drunkenly grin. The soft R&B echos through the hallway and causes a low bass thrum in your eardrum. Yet all you can really focus on is him.

"Okay, okay," he says, adjusting himself so he can fully face you, hiccuping twice. "You start."

“Wh— I’m the all-knowing one here. You’re supposed to be the one asking the questions.”

“Well, what if I want a higher being trapped in my body, too?”

With an eye roll, you decide to indulge and mimic his movements, facing him the exact same way, wondering if the heat in your cheeks is from your close proximity or the alcohol buzzing through your body.

You want to believe the latter but it's utterly obvious that that's not the case. You can't help it - Rafe’s hot, especially when he looks like this: dazed and unguarded and almost in love.

"Alright," you start, "uh, would you rather live only in the sky or only in the ocean?"

"Yes. Are you into anyone?"

Your eyes widen and so do Rafe’s, you both not really expecting those words to come out just like that, so blatantly.

He places a hand over his mouth to suppress his nervous laughter or more drunken words that'll get him in more trouble, while you stupidly blink back at him, hoping both your inebriated natures will be able to mask the truth in the morning.

Fuck it, you’re both going to lose memory of the night anyway, so why not add fuel to the fire? You aren’t very logical, but you’ve got the spirit. 

"Just one guy, in particular," you respond slowly, watching his unchanging expression. 

Rafe removes his hand from his mouth and curses. "It's that tool from your chemistry lab, isn't it?”

Wh—?

You go to respond, to dispute that obscene theory, but he continues.

“I mean, I don't blame you, the guy's hot, but he won't shave that godforsaken-"

Blinking stupidly at him, all you can do is tune out his conjectures and stare at him as if he suddenly started speaking a different language. Does he really have no idea? No postulate? Are you really that subtle in the way you love on him?

"-Not that it should matter, but I guess it makes sense that-"

You roll your eyes at his rambling and don’t think twice before pushing yourself forward and pressing his lips to his.

It immediately halts his words and stupid conspiracies, and after a moment of holy shit is this happening, Rafe finally understands and kisses you back, a little hesitantly, but still passionate. 

But the kiss comes and goes when you pull away and slowly open your eyes to see a very, very shocked and confused Rafe Cameron ogling back at you as if you've grown three heads.

Can't take it back now, you think.

"I'll understand if you don't feel the same way, and I won't mention it ever again and we can go back to normal," you assure with a small smile even though every bit of you is shattering inside. "But I just... I had to."

You start to think about what therapy ice cream to purchase this time, and how much to indulge yourself in to pretend to get rid of the crippling depression of getting rejected by the guy you've been pining over for several years now. Based on the befuddled look on his face that hasn't gone away, he's either trying to come up with how to let you down gently or still computing the past minute of his life.

All he does is blink, darting his gaze between your eyes and back down to your slightly puffed lips, offering no words or confirmation after your declaration.

Thank god for tequila so you can blame your lack of inhibitions in the morning when this blows up.

"Say something," you urge quietly.

Eventually, after another agonizing moment, he does.

"Wait," says Rafe, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion and looking like someone just told him the most complicated math equation to exist, "you like me?"

You roll your eyes. "You're so fucking stupid, Rafe."

"I'm the guy you're into?"

"Yes."

Rafe immediately brightens, grinning so wide that his cheeks make those dimples that you love and so wide until it physically hurts for him to stretch even further. Despite the lighting, he feels a massive blush coating his cheeks and a warmth in his heart that is reserved for the pretty girl laying right here with him. 

"Holy shit," he exhales breathlessly. "This is the best day of my life."

You roll your eyes at how he states that like it's a fucking fact.

"Oh, shut up."

"No, I'm not kidding." Rafe can't stop grinning. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?"

Your stomach flips at the thought of him wanting you, too. Too. Mutual.

"You have?" Your voice is smaller than you would like, tentative, unsure if he's just saying this to indulge you or if he's actually telling the truth.

But Rafe gives you no indication that he's messing around, instead peering at you with such certainty that it makes your head spin.

"I have since freshman year. I thought everyone knew that."

Your mouth drops. "Wh- You- I didn't know that. You mean this could've been done sooner?"

Rafe contemplates that for a moment, understanding that he could've been with you much much much earlier than right now, but then shrugs, concluding that it's important you found each other in the end despite all those years of what felt like useless pining. He likes to think everything happens for a reason, and maybe all this time has just been a sign to further progress your feelings. 

"It's being done now," he murmurs, bringing his hand to your soft cheek and gently soothing your cheekbone, "that's what matters."

This time, Rafe's the one who leans in to kiss you, a soft and reassuring kiss that doesn't last very long but still means so much to you.

Your hand meets Rafe's warm skin, pulling his waist just slightly closer to yourself (to which he reciprocates). He pulls away because he can't stop grinning into your lips, which doesn't really help when he's trying to kiss you, still not over the fact that you literally confessed and made the first move after Rafe had been so adamant that you weren't into him like that.

"So, are you my girlfriend now or what?" he asks quietly, breath fanning over yours.

You tilt your head to the side as if Rafe just said something absolutely ludicrous. "Uhm, maybe —stop grinning — take me out to dinner first and we'll see about that."

"Baby, I'll get you anything in the world if I get to call you mine."

The saccharine words automatically make your eyes roll, a teasing smile hinting your lips at you pull back, watching him lean forward to essentially chase them.

You almost laugh at the way he nearly pouts, but it dies in your throat when you feel his hand smoothing over the cool skin of your waist and eventually snaking over the bare skin of your spine. You're no stranger to his touches, but now it implies a deeper meaning, a possessive one, that has you nearly losing your breath.

He's so close. You can make out the beauty marks on his skin and the faint scar on his lip from when he busted it as a kid. His eyes never leave yours, shamelessly staring and taking in your features as if he hasn't done it a thousand times before.

It feels like eons before Rafe moves, leaning in slowly to test out the waters and see if you'll tease and pull back again. But you don't. You lie still, ready for him and blinking at him with your doting eyes, and he doesn't waste another second before he's kissing you once more, pulling you impossibly taut to his body as if it was molded to be there.

Your hands brace themselves on his toned chest, gingerly feeling the ridges and grooves of his body as you'd feel the topography of a map, nearly sighing into his mouth when his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw.

In an instant, his lips move to your neck and one of your hands nestles in his hair, stomach flipping at the sensation of him sucking and kissing the soft skin, no doubt hard enough to leave a mark. Not that you really mind, anyway.

You let out a quiet sigh and Rafe groans against your neck.

"You can't- Don't make that noise."

You snort.

He hums. "Yeah, that one's fine. Make that one."

"Rafe."

He continues sucking and peppering kisses on your skin, offering another low hum of nonchalance, as if he has all the time in the world to be right here, to do what he's doing, to be unbridled to your beck and call.

And you stay like that for a while.

After a few more kisses and conversations of disbelief about how this hasn't been done sooner, Rafe passes out in your arms, sleeping soundly and deeply with a permanent hint of a smile ghosting his (swollen) lips. His arm is tightly wound across your stomach with his head on your chest, the lull of your heart beat dragging him to sleep. 

You hold him more tightly than other nights, because you did it, you're finally his person after years of dreaming of this.

Sure, you've held Rafe plenty of other nights, but those nights haunted by the fog of fear instilled in your head about the fact that it could be just platonic to him. It could mean nothing.

And now it's...you're sure that he feels the same, even though he's drunk, you just know. Sarah's wink makes sense, John B's thumbs up makes sense. All the hand holding and late night adventures make sense.

Everything Rafe's done for you, it makes sense.

He claims he doesn't care about your dating life but will make you text him once an hour as a proof of life. He massages your back and shoulders without you asking him to after you've had a long day sitting in front of your computer. He'll randomly drop by with your favorite snack or flowers or craft because he was simply in the area. Once he stayed up all night with you so you didn't have to binge the last season of your favorite show alone.

Selfless. Careful. Doting.

You sleep soundly, entangled within a mess of Rafe and not even bothering to set an alarm, to let yourself enjoy the moment for as long as you can. Because you normally rise before him anyway. You usually leave the room whenever you sleep in the same bed just to avoid the early morning pillow talk that you really aren't a fan of.

But now you don't need to worry about that. None of it.

Because you know you'll wake up and still be his.

"They're not up yet, do you think they're dead?"

"John B, they're not dead just probably asleep."

"Or worse. Someone's ass will be in the air."

"Kiara!"

"I'm not judging. They're both freaks anyw-"

"I- Oh fuck it, I'm opening the door. Shut up."

Sarah gently twists the knob of Rafe's door open, all three eagerly peeping their heads in to get a good look at what's happening and if she really owes John B (another) twenty bucks. She's been losing a lot of money because of her brother, but this morning is already raising alarm bells because you aren't up yet making breakfast for everyone as you normally do.

And as she peers in, she understands why: you're still in bed with Rafe, both sound asleep and tangled in each other.

The sight is so natural these days, so it barely fazes any of them. Usually where Rafe is sleeping, you're there with him. Usually where either of you are missing in any scenario, the other is accompanying. You're like yin and yang. Rum and coke. Plant and dirt. Hard to coexist without the other.

That's why your friends don't think twice about your otherwise compromising position.

"Typical," Kiara mutters.

"Should we wake her?" John B says quietly, darting his gaze between you and his girlfriend eagerly. "I'm starving."

Sarah rolls her eyes and slaps his chest with the back of her hand. "C'mon, let her sleep. This is probably the latest she's slept in in months."

"It's barely ten?"

"John B, make your own damn food if you're that hungry."

He goes to plead again, but Sarah scoffs at his selfishness, nearly ready to slam his head in the door to get him to shut up.

"Zip it," she says. "We'll give them thirty minutes, and if they're not up yet, then you can wake her up, okay?"

That seems to relatively satisfy him, as John B begrudgingly nods (not that he was ever going to win that debacle, anyway).

Sarah hums in contentment, slowly starting to shut the door and takes one last fleeting glance at you and her brother, sleeping soundly. "So, now we just-"

Her words immediately halt notices something that makes her heart drop.

"Is that a hickey?"

John B's eyes widen. "What?" he whisper shouts eagerly, eyes rapidly searching and pushing the door open more. "Where?"

Sarah breaks out in a mile long grin, eyes wide as she finally wins her twenty bucks back. She faces her boyfriend triumphantly and he groans silently, tipping his head back as he shoves a hand in his pocket and hands over a crumpled up twenty dollar bill.

He shakes his head and takes another fleeting look at his two friends. "I'd say I'm upset to be out of my fast food money, but holy shit, what'd that take, three years?"

"Four, more like."

"Goddamn," he mutters under his breath, then sighs in relief. "I almost don't want to wake them now-"

"I do," Kiara deadpans. Then, she screams. "HEY!"

Practically immediately, Rafe springs awake, nearly falling out of bed with a yelp. His eyes are wide yet bleary and coated with sleep while you just peek your eyes open, turning towards the noise and rubbing your eyes calmly.

Once you regain your vision, you see your three friends eagerly watching you in the doorway and can't help but suppress a grin as Rafe gets his shit together, trying to calm down from the abrupt wake up call.

"Good morning," you say nonchalantly, yawning and reaching your arms to stretch, almost cat-like. "Is it time for me to make breakfast?"

"Fuck," Rafe whines, rubbing his temples while completely draped over your body. "Fuck, Kie, you're a terrible alarm clock."

John B is about to answer your question with enthusiasm (because he is very hungry) but Sarah jabs him in the ribs and puts on a smile for you two.

"As much as we love your cooking, I think we'll go out this morning." She ignores her boyfriend's frown and looks to you. "You have your makeup here, right?"

Confused, you nod. "Yeah, why?"

Sarah's gaze flickers to something below your eyes. "Good. I'd use it in case you want to leave the house at all today."

Rafe grimaces at his headache but also tilts his head in confusion, while your eyes widen just slightly before your cheeks burn, gingerly brushing your fingers over your neck, remembering the events of last night.

You can't find your voice, instead offering a tight lipped smile and shrinking into the mattress as much as you can.

"By the way," Sarah jabs with a whisper, "I totally called it. Okay, bye."

Sarah closes the door with a knowing smile, while you can hear John B's protest of your lack of cooking while Kiara just ponders all the obscenities aloud, listing potential positions you could've been in and making lewd comments that shamefully reach your ears.

All you and Rafe can do is laugh. 

Last night hadn't been a mistake or some drunken mishap, but rather a renaissance of feelings that can finally be told.

Rafe settles back in bed next to you, feeling almost shy (and irritated at his pounding headache, god), but that feeling almost instantly goes away when you brush some of his hair out of his face gingerly, a small smile lingering on his lips as your eyes don't leave his. 

"Hi," you whisper, barely audible.

"Hi."

Rafe melts into your touch, feeling himself lure his mind back to sleep (as it seems pretty early, to which you can confirm since his friends are normally early risers), and he hums softly and shuts his eyes in content, loving the way your hands were always warm but not hot, welcoming but not sweaty.

Everything is just right and he cannot be bothered to do anything else with his day besides this. 

“Jus’ wanna stay here,” he mumbles, his baritone voice giving you goosebumps. “C’mere.”

You chuckle sweetly. “I’m already here.”

Rafe utters something incoherent, eyes already threatening to flutter shut. For a moment, you believe he’s fallen back asleep given his prolonged stillness. But there’s a flicker of hope, his fingers twitching against the hem of your top.

You’re about to say something else, but Rafe’s palm butterfly splays against your spine and pulls you practically on top of him.

You oomf against his chest, bracing your hands on his tummy and shoulder to reposition yourself to something resembling comfort. But there’s not much moving you can do because his hand holds you down, pressing you impossibly closer to him. Eventually, you cave and lay limp, burying your face in the crook of his neck and shamelessly inhaling his scent.

His chest jerks when he snorts. “Baby, d’you just smell me?”

“I have to breathe through my nose sometimes, too.”

“You totally just sniffed me.”

You — very gently — playfully bite the vocal cord on his neck, nearly smirking when he tenses underneath you.

“And now I just bit you.”

His cool hand feels like ice against your hot spine, especially how his fingers are feather light, almost ghosting your skin, teasing up so achingly slow.

“Easy, Snaps,” he says low, voice still gravely with sleep but more drawled out, almost in warning. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

You grin. “I plan on finishing. I’d like to. That really depends on you.”

The laugh that Rafe lets out is nothing nice. It teeters between disbelief and offense.

“How’s three sound?” His other hand ventures low, well beneath your spine, groping what’s rightfully his now. “Fuck you right back to sleep, yeah?”

You — somehow — press yourself closer to him, letting one of your hands trail gently on his shoulder, down his bicep, and soon lacing your fingers sweetly with his.

“As long as you’ll stay,” you say gently.

He squeezes back, once, twice, three times, then brings the back of your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against the soft skin of your knuckle. You find the courage to tilt your head up to look at him, his grin lazy and his eyes soft, peering down at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.

Not as a friend. Not as his best friend.

Something beyond that.

“Always,” he mumbles against your hand. “Never leaving your side, actually.”

“That so?”

“Mhm. ‘M obsessed with you.”

“Are you now?”

Rafe hums again, eyes flickering down to your lips. “Been for a while, believe it or not.”

Your breath hitches at the intensity of his gaze, especially at the way he looks so sure of himself, of his words, of his intentions, as if they’re set in stone regardless of any shroud of doubt you may still have lingering in the back of your mind.

There are so many things you want to say right now to him, wishing you have an ounce of the ferocity you had last night when you let confessions spill under sheets that smell of him, but with the anticipation of his touch roaming all over your body, it’s almost impossible to form a coherent thought right now.

You figure your questions, qualms, and curiosities can wait.

“Let me show you, yeah?”

Yeah, they can wait.

© salem-s do not copy or replicate work without permission. mdni.

notes writing loverboy!rafe is actually so much fun because it's the furthest thing from canon and it's awesome. also thank you for 700 followers????? that's actually insane????

[fandomizedtrash]

Unfinished Business

Remmick x reader

Ask and you shall receive! After almost 500(!) of you responded to my poll, I had to keep writing. Enjoy!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

word count: 3.2k

Summary: After your parent's were killed when you were just a child, a secluded life in the Mississippi Delta has been all you have know. But when you stumble upon a stranger whose presence draws you in against your better judgement, you end up with more than you bargained for.

Warning: violence, blood, death, dub con elements!

Growing up, the Mississippi Delta felt like the whole world. The endless blue skies, forests that went on forever, rolling fields as far the eye can see, it was all you knew. It was home. Home to you, your friends, your family, your laughter, and your tears.

As a child, hot summer days and home-cooked meals was all you could think about. But while your mind was preoccupied with the beauty of the Delta, you remain completely unaware of the darkness that lurked deep within the trees.

***

“Do it again”! You demanded your father, who as far as you were concered, a magician. 

He chuckled to himself as he began the trick again. 

“Look at my hands.” His fingers were spread out wide while he turned his wrist around to show that there was nothing there. Then he reached behind your ear and took out a small coin. 

You clapped giddily at the site. Being just 7 it amused you to no end. 

“Give your father a break y/n”. You are going to bore him.” Your mother said, poorly suppressing a smile at the site of your glee as she placed the steaming meal in the center of the table.

“How about you help your mother with dinner?” Your father suggested. You ran over to the kitchen and carefully grabbed the plates from your mother’s hands. As you placed them in their proper position, a knock was heard at the front door. 

It was unusual. Your family’s home was at the edge of town and 50 yards deep into the forest from the main path. Most people wouldn’t find it unless they strayed. 

“Stay put.” Your father warned you as he cautiously approached the door. You ran to your mothers side, nervous at the coming of this stranger. 

When your father opened the door, a tall man with dark hair and an almost uncanny wide smile greeted him. 

“Howdy sir, I hate to intrude on this lovely night but I need someone to help crank-start my automobile. Would you be so kind as to help?” Being in a small town, almost everyone knew everybody. And even if you didn’t, you would have at least seen their face at the store or walking down the street. Even at your young age, you could pick out everyone in town from a crowd of thousands. But this was a face you have never seen before, and it unnerved you to no end. While his smile remaind, you knew in your soul that it was not true. 

“It’s just down the road, it won’t take but a few minutes of your time.” For just a split second, you could have sworn the man’s eyes flashed a dark red color. But in an instant, it returned to their original icy color.  

You wanted your father to say no, to shut the door, and turn back to you and your mother so your perfect night could continue; but kindness was always something that was preached in your household.

“It’s no problem mister.” Your father turned his head back. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He shot you and your mother a smile before leaving with the strange man, closing the door behiind him. 

“Don’t you worry baby.” Your mother said coddling you. “Your father will be right back. Now how about some dinner?” Your mother served you some chicken and beans onto your plate, but just when you were about to bite in, an ear-piercing scream came from outside followed by what sounded like when the town's stray dogs bit into a carcass. 

You and your mother’s eyes shot up from the table to the front door as the screams continued. 

“You stay right here!” Your mother demanded as she went outside.

“Mommy no!” You tried to stop her. Whatever evil was happening to your father was sure to happen to her too. 

But it was no use, she ran out. 

You ran to the wall of the door being a chair. Hugging your knees to your chest in a desperate attempt to protect yourself. 

“NO!” you heard your mother scream. Right after, the awful tearing sound continued. followed by silence. 

By this point, your cheeks are completely damp from the tears you didn’t even realize you have been flowing. Who was this man? What did he want? Why did he come to your home?

“Come out little one.” The man yelled from outside. “I saw you earlier in your mother’s arms. I know you want to join them” he said, taunting you. His voice changed, from what it was before. Some sort of accent you have never heard before. 

“Come on y/n, we both know you can’t hide in there forever.” 

Your breath got caught in your throat. He knew your name. How, you didn’t know.

“Your parents were sure kind people.” He began. “It’s a pity that it turned out to be their undoing.” Suddenly, a fight lit inside you. Your feelings of fear and sadness were firmly swept away as anger started to course through your veins. 

You shot up from your huddled position behind the chair and ran to the front door. Whoever this man is, you were going to stop him with whatever you had in you. 

After swinging the door open, you froze in your spot. The darkness made it difficult for you to make everything out, but you saw enough. The man’s eyes glowed red and his clothes were damp with what could only be blood. 

“Hello sweetheart” The man started, standing several feet from your pourch. “You can call me Remmick.” You shut the door, unable to confront the monster that stood behind it. 

“Don’t you worry sweet thing. I’ll be back for you.” 

The next morning, you discovered that your parent’s bodies were gone. Not even a strand of hair remained, leaving you with nothing but memories. 

***

The years have come and gone and now you live in the middle of town working at a local apothocary shop. You have done your besst to suppress the painful memories of that fateful night. The blood, the screams. While you couldn’t escape the Delta, you could at least forget. 

After all these year’s of waiting for Remmick to come back, you started to believe that he may have forgotten about you, and that maybe a normal life is actually possible. The thought that you will never have to encounter this devil of a man again makes you feel relieved, but also angry. That the closure, the revenge you so desperately want will never happen. 

“Hello y/n, got any cough syrups?” Thomas, one of your regular’s came in shooting you a soft smile.

“Sure thing.” You went to the back to collect the bottles. 

“Mighty warm weather we are having aren’t we.” Thomas said as you were cashing him out at the register. 

“It’s always this warm in the Delta.” You teased. “Lord knows we could use some rain. I’d do anything to cool off.” 

“Well if you need some relief from this heat, I’m more than welcome to accompany you on a night’s walk. The sun finally sets and the night air is rather refreshing.” Thomas flashed his pearly whites at you as you handed him his change. Almost every time he comes to the shop he comes up with some new scheme to ask you on a date, and while he was certainly a charmer (and not bad looking either), you couldn’t find yourself taking him up on the offer. 

“Thank you, but I think I can manage this heat just fine.” 

“Whatever you say little lady. Have a nice day.” He tipped his hat and left the store, the belle ringing merrily on his way out. 

As the day was coming to a close, you finished locking up the shop. After storing away the aliments, soaps, herbs, and medicine in all their proper place, you locked the shop door. 

“Hello miss.” The voice of a stranger startled you as you dropped your keys. 

Bending down to pick them up, the stranger beat you to it. Standing up, a man with dark hair and deep blue eyes, held the keys in his hands.

“I believe these are yours.” He said with a small grin. 

The man placed his hand on top of your palm to return the keys for you to then place in your dress pocket. 

“Thank you sir.” You responded kindly, blushing at the brief touch of contact. Being a yong lady in a small town meant that if a man had the chance to firt with you, he would. But none were certainly as good-looking as him. 

“Locking up shop all by yourself? It ain’t safe for a little lady like you to wander around after dark.” While he spoke with an air of caution, it came off more like a threat.  

You smiled at his sentiment, Living alone, you were no fool to the dangers the Delta held, but you’ve learned how to grow thick skin.

“I promise you sir, I can handle myself just fine.” You rolled your shoulders back and straightened your spine as a puny attempt to show you are stronger than you look. 

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” The man said, taking a few steps forward. 

You stood firm in your ground as he approached you. Maybe you would’ve backed down before, but there was something in the air that night that told you to stay against your better judgement. He soon stood close enought in front of you that if you reached your arm out you could touch his chest.

“Is there something I can help you with, mister?” You uttered carefully, daring yourself to take another step closer. He was attractive, no doubt about it, but it was often the things most gratifying to the eye that ended up being the most dangerous. Even so, your practical side wasn’t the one pulling the ropes. 

“Help me?” He spoke, brows raised. “A tempting offer, but I think I’m here to help you.” His voice became low and daring. “A lady like you shouldn’t be out all by herself, you never know what you may run into in the Delta.” 

“Believe me sir, no one knows that better than me.”

“Aren’t you a firey one.” He said while cocking his head to the side. “May I have the pleasure to escort you home?” You considered his offer. Any other young woman would have sprung at the chance for a nighttime stoll with a handsome mysterious stranger. However, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“I think I can handle myself just fine.” Spoken firmly and final. 

“Then I hope you’ll grace me with your presence some other night.”

“Maybe.” You cast your eyes down playfully, unresisting a smirk. “Only if the Delta’s dangers don't get to me first”. 

The man let out a short laugh at your cheeky response. “Believe me miss, I wouldn’t let them get to you even if they tried.” The reply was strange, nevertheless, you let it pass.

“And does this gentleman have a name?” You asked, wanting to leave with at least something to remember him by. 

“Let’s not be hasty now. All good things come with time.” Even more odd. 

Any girl growing up in these parts knew when something, or someone was trouble. Even so, like a moth to a flame, you didn’t turn away. 

“Well you have a good night mister. You know where to find me if you need anything .” You turned on your heel and strod off. 

“Don’t you worry miss, you already gave me everything I need.” You turned around to respond, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen. 

Odd.

Your walk home faced no difficulties. Nonetheless, you kept turning your head every minute, unable to shake the feeling you were being followed. 

***

The next day came and went with no signs of the mystery man from before. As did the next day, and the day after that. Eventually, it got to a point where you started to believe that your loneliness… and your desire, was starting to make you hallucinate. 

Just when you thought that the stranger was nothing more than a figment of your imagination, you ran into him once more. 

“Well if it isn't my pretty little lady.” You were on your way home from work, just reaching the town's edge. 

The man’s steps were loose and unhurried, salvaging the encounter. 

“Good evening sir.” You answered politely. “I take it everything is alright with you?”

“Oh everything just became perfect right about now.” The stranger has haunted your thoughts for long enough, you deemed. It’s about time for your mind to be brought to ease. 

“You aren’t from the Delta are you?” you challenged. 

“What gave it away?”

“You get used to seeing the same faces after a while down in these parts. So where are you from.”

“A place far more ancient than you can imagine.” You scoffed at the answer. Who did this man think he was? This was not your first time dealing with disagreeable folk, and certainly not you last.

Your interrogation continued, “And what brings you to this part of the country?” The question brought a smile to his face. You knew you were dancing with the devil, but at this point in this deadly waltz, you had no longing to stop. 

“I guess you could call it unfinished business.” The answer didn’t sit right with you one bit. 

“And what would that be?” You’ve seen his expression before when you encountered hunters in the forest, one who’s prey fell right in their trap.

“Many years ago I came across this wee little thing in the woods. Before, I wanted her for… well let’s just say other purposes. But now, after seeing her again, I’ve changed my mind. I want her for something completely different.” His answer sent a chill up your spine. 

He started to approach you slowly. “Come on y/n, don’t you remember me at all?” Your heart rate spiked up and your breaths became frantic. 

“No.” It came out barely about a whisper. The memories of that fateful night, the one you have tried so desperately to forget started to break its way back in. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt you, at least permanently.” He laughed at his own joke. “All these years, and I couldn’t have imagined the pretty thing you would turn into.” And then, there it was, the flash of red. As he came closer, your survival instincts finally kicked in and you ran as fast as your legs could take you. 

Your house wasn't too far, but you have never been much of a runner, and who knows what he, what Remmick, is capable of.

“There is no point in making this hard.” You heard him say behind you, speaking like a parent trying to make a stubborn child eat their veggies. 

You didn’t dare to look back. All you could think of was getting home. And soon enough, there it was, your four walled sanctuary. 

By some miracle, you made it past the pourch and into the home, placing you back against the wall of the door. You waited a moment to let your breathing die down. But your moment of relief only lasted just that.

“You can pretend all you want, but I could smell how badly you want it.” His southern facade has vanished into that foreign sound you heard before. “It is just in your luck that I can give it to you.”

You paid his words no mind. Shutting your eyes tight, you prayed to whatever God there was to make this devil disappear. 

“I have to say, I feel a little dissapointed. Before you were a child, but I guess you were too weak then and too weak now.” And just like that, your eyes shot open. The fear inside you was replaced with pure rage. You knew enough folklore to know what he was, know his weakness. Grabing the silver kitchen knife, you ran outside screaming. 

Remmick didn’t stand too far from the enterance of your house, and in an instant, you stabbed the knife to the upper left side of his chest. You stepped back after your attack, expecting this to be the end of it.

All it seemed to do was irritate him. 

After he stumnled a few steps back, he pulled the knife slowly out of his torso and threw it aside. 

“I knew you were going to take some convincing but you sure do know how to put up a good fight.” He sounded almost amused. 

You stood paralyzed. Your only weapon now proving useless. In a flash, Remmick ran towards you, hand around your throat as the other pulled you close to him.

You let out a scream before he placed his hand over your mouth

“Shhh, we both know that won’t save you now.” Your eyes started to brim with tears. Whatever dark plan he has instored for you couldn’t be good. 

“There is no need to be scared. I’m about to give you everything you could ever want.” Your fear turned into confusion, and soon enough, his lips were on yours. He kissed with longing, with need. Like it was something he was waiting to do for a very, very long time. For all you knew he was. 

As the kiss deepened, he started to touch you in an area that in these parts was reserved for your husband, certainly not him. You couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan. It was hard to remeber the last time you have gotten such pleasure. 

“There we go.” Remmick whisphered in your ear. Slowly, his mouth widened to reveal his fangs. Once your eyes opened, you remembered exactly what you were doing, and exactly who it was with. 

You pushed yourself out of his grasp. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” You fell to the ground, picking up the discared kitchen knife and holding it in boith hands, pointing it towards him.

Remmick let out an exasperated sigh. "Just when I thought I had you, you had to act up.” 

Your hands trembled while clutching the knife. He won’t get me. He won’t. 

The devil in disguise took four long strides towards you before standing over you looking like he just caught your hand in the cookie jar. 

He crouched down slowly, taking the knife from your grasp steadily as you sat powerless to fight. 

He ran his finger up and down against your cheek. For a beginning as ancient as him, his touch was softer than expected. 

“You’re perfect.” He stated. 

Just like that, not wasting a moment of time, his fangs pierced their way into your neck. 

You let out a scream, but soon, the initial pain started to fade, and in its place was something wonderful, something blisful. 

After Remmick pulled away, you looked at him and felt everything he was feeling. His love, his hurt, his desire. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You smiled foolishly at him. How could you have been so disagreeable before, when right here, right now, was the man who would give you everything.

@spikedfearn

[heavens-whore]

RIDE

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel run away together for a fresh start, away from the town you both hate. Along the way, you start to have doubts about your decision, but Joel has a way of persuading you that it’s right for you.

A/N: this is my first fic ! It was inspired by a post my friend sent me that was just a pic of motel steps, captioned "need a cigarette here". And the scene unfolded idk. Also I don't really know how to make my posts look cute yet so please excuse this visual abomination for now. Enjoy!!

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+, unspecified age gap, oral (f receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, cigarette smoking, not wearing a seatbelt (please wear a seatbelt fr), running away, getting fired, getting hated on

The sun shone through the dirty window of the truck and started to dip below the horizon, but the heat stayed hanging in the humid air. Your bare feet were resting up on the dashboard and your eyes watched the rural surroundings of the open road race past as you drove further and further away from your old life. The faint sound of 80s rock from the radio and the hum of the truck’s engine did little to silence the thoughts that tormented you- the thought that running away was a big mistake you would come to deeply regret.

You hated your hometown. The weather, the people, the way they talked, the way they dressed, the things they believed in. You even hated the buildings. So why was it all so hard to let go of? You had always wanted to leave, to run away and leave it all behind, start a new life out West and never look back. Joel was the only person who was willing to give it all to you. He never talked about it, but you could see it in his eyes every time you mentioned the idea of leaving. You knew he wanted this too- probably did from a young age. Some teenage pipedream of his that imploded when his daughter was conceived. So he stayed, started his family business, bought a house and raised her. But now she was all grown up and there was nothing to hold him back anymore. All he was waiting for was for you to say the word. 

And you did, after one particularly rough day. You had gone to work in the morning and come home in tears around midday after being fired with no warning. It didn’t matter, you hated the job anyway; but your parents were enraged, furious that you could let this happen. They called you a burden, said you had no ambition and no future ahead of you. In the early afternoon you had shown up on Joel’s doorstep with a bag packed and tears in your eyes, begging him to take you away from it all. And he did. 

He had one hand resting on your thigh, and the other on the steering wheel. His eyes strayed from the road to look over at you, seeing you gaze thoughtfully out the half-open window in your denim shorts and little tank top. He squeezed your thigh to get your attention.

‘You take your seatbelt off again?’ You looked up at him, your eyes wide and clearly swimming with thoughts. But he didn’t push it. You nodded. ‘Gotta put it back on for me, darlin’. We can’t have nothin’ happening, can we? Ambulance would take forever to get to us out here.’ You didn’t say anything, just took your legs down from the dashboard and pulled your seatbelt back on, the polyester squeaking as it unravelled. Joel’s eyes flicked back to the road momentarily but then returned to you. You were being unusually quiet. ‘You doin’ okay?’

You nodded again, but this time feigning contentment.

‘Yeah. Just hot in here.’

Joel’s dark eyes lingered on yours for a moment before flicking back to the road, definitely unconvinced.

‘Well we’re almost to the next stop anyway. Think this motel’s got a pool, too.’

The heat was definitely part of the problem, because when you finally got to the motel, the cool water of the pool lifted your spirits. You put on that new bikini you had bought at an earlier stop along the way and floated on your back, let the water cool your skin while you watched the sunset paint the sky with bright streaks of pink and orange. Joel watched you swim from the edge of the pool for a while before joining you. He splashed you with the water and pulled you beneath the surface, wrapped your legs around his hips and kissed you with such tender desire it made you want to cry.

Later in the evening, you lay awake beside Joel. His arm was wrapped loosely around your waist and he was fast asleep, but all you could do was stare at the chipping paint on the ceiling. Those regrets had started to creep back into your head, and it felt as though there was a war going on in your mind. You thought of your friends, your family, what the people back home would say about the young girl who randomly up and left one day to run away to California with the old man from down the street. You quietly untangled yourself from his grasp and stepped outside for some air. It was dark but the stars were bright, and the crickets chirped as you sat on the steps of the motel and lit a cigarette. You didn’t know what time it was or where exactly you were. All you knew was that it was late and you were far from home. You sucked in the smoke and watched the neon glow of the motel sign dance on the ripples in the pool. It was quiet, peaceful, but the war in your head raged on. It was impossible, trying to tell if this was just some optimistic dream you had cooked up- that you could run away and find your fresh start on the coast and live happily ever after. What if it all blew up in your face and you were forced to come back home to your parents’ fury, that you could be so reckless and believe in some big lie this dirty old man was feeding you?

The creak from the door opening snatched your attention away from your thoughts, and you turned to see Joel’s concerned eyes watching you. He sat on the step behind you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the warmth of his chest.

‘What’s on your mind, darlin’? Been quiet all day, I know something’s up.’

You took another hit of the cigarette and flicked the ashes onto the steps below you.

‘I dunno. It’s… I dunno.’

He sighed as he watched your troubled expression.

‘We can go back if you want, y’know. Don’t want you to feel like I’m callin’ all the shots here.’

You shook your head.

‘I don’t wanna go back. You know how bad I want this. I just wish I could forget all about home.’

‘You will forget it, sweetheart. Once you see the ocean, you’ll forget all about that town. We’ll start over, yeah?’

You brought the filter back to your lips and inhaled again, your mind still not eased much.

‘What if we get there and we hate it?’

Joel rested his chin on the crown of your head as he held you from behind.

‘Then we’ll go back. Or we’ll go somewhere else. But what if we get there and we love it?’

He had a way of making everything sound so simple and it never failed to blow your mind. 

He plucked the cigarette from between your fingers and put it out, then pulled you to your feet and rested his hands on your waist. ‘S’just a fresh start, darlin’. Nobody’ll know us, nobody’ll look twice when they see us together, they won’t care. We’ll be okay, I promise. And if we ain’t, we’ll think of somethin’ else. Can always go back if we change our minds.”

It was true, but something in the back of your mind told you that you wouldn’t. Joel’s hand stroked your cheek gently, and his dark eyes sparkled under the neon sign as they gazed into yours, full of nothing but intimate affection.

The two of you went back to bed but didn’t sleep. The moonlight seeped in through the flimsy net curtains and illuminated your naked skin as you undressed each other. Joel laid you down on the edge of the bed and stood between your legs, his hands squeezed your breasts gently while his eyes wandered your body, a sigh escaping his lips. He leaned down to press feather light kisses to your neck and collarbones while his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs. He gripped your thighs tenderly as he pulled them apart, and knelt in between them.

He licked a stripe up your center while moving your thighs to rest on his shoulders. He wrapped his thick arms around them while he lapped at your seam, the taste of your arousal dampening his taste buds. His tongue swirled around your clit, causing your toes to curl and your back to arch while he watched from his position, his boxers tightening with every second that passed until he couldn’t wait any longer. He pressed a tender kiss to your inner thigh and stood up, shoved his underwear down and lined himself up for entrance.

‘You want this, baby?’ He whispered, ‘You want me?’

You nodded eagerly, if there was one thing in this world you knew you wanted for certain, it was him. He slid into you easily, your juices and his saliva soaking him. Small whimpers and whines fell from your lips, as well as his name, while your nails dug deep crescents into his shoulders. He held still once he bottomed out to let you adjust his length. It didn’t matter how many times he had buried himself deep into your walls, he always seemed to stretch them out more each time, the dull ache blending with ecstasy. His eyes held your gaze and he watched your expression as it twisted in pain and pleasure.

‘You okay darlin’? You with me?’

You whispered a soft but adamant ‘Yes,’ and he pulled out before pushing back into you again with the same agonizingly slow pace, his jaw tense as he groaned in pleasure, the head forcing its way in even deeper.

‘Always so wet for me.. Such a good girl.’

Your little moans filled the night air as he started to gradually pick up the pace, speeding up slightly with each deep thrust. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in even deeper; and your arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him into a warm and passionate kiss. Joel’s tongue wetted your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth, and you let it. The sound of his hips slapping against your thighs melted into your sweet whimpers of ecstasy as the heat from his body dampened your skin with sweat.

‘I love you, baby,’ He mumbled against your lips, his thrusts never stopping, ‘love you so much.’

You pinched your eyes shut as the stimulation started to overwhelm you. Each of his movements sent shockwaves through your body, and you could feel your legs start to tremble. Joel laced his fingers with yours and squeezed your hands gently, his voice soft and low. ‘Look at me, baby girl.’ Your eyelids fluttered open to see his eyes were burning into yours and sparkling with passion. ‘There’s those pretty eyes.’ He slowed down, reading your expression, and pressed a tender kiss to your lips. His face hovered above yours as he slowly pushed himself in and out, trying to draw this out as long as he could, before building back up to the same speed as before.

The tension in your stomach was growing, the coil tightening after Joel’s thrusts established a steady pace. He pulled back from you to watch your features contorting with pleasure, your back arching up into him, the moisture on your skin glowing in the dim moonlight. His grip on your hands tightened, and his brows furrowed like they always do when he’s close to the edge. You whimpered to let him know that you were too- no words needed. 

‘Where do you want it, baby?’ His voice was low and gravelly, dripping with hunger.

‘Inside. Please.’ You whispered desperately and squeezed his hand.

‘You sure?’ His jaw was tightening and his eyes were dark, and you knew you had to decide fast. But your mind was already made up. You nodded certainly, right on the brink of shattering.

You both fell apart at the same time. His hips stuttered as you felt his warmth blossoming deep within your core, and your desperate whimpers and groans bounced off the walls of the small dim room. Joel pushed himself somehow even deeper into you as your walls clenched tightly around him, choking his length. He leaned down to your face again, your lips meeting in a messy, loving kiss while he tried unsuccessfully to still his hips, continually pulsing within you and filling you up with his climax. 

He didn’t pull out- you asked him not to. He just rested you on his lap and rested his back against the cheap headboard of the bed while you were still intimately connected. The sun was starting to rise and orange rays shone through the parting in the curtain as Joel held you, his fingers running through your hair while drips of his release seeped out onto your inner thighs. It was quiet, the sound of the crickets had subsided and the only noise you could hear was the steady beat of Joel’s heart where your head rested on his chest. It was time to hit the road again soon, but this time your mind was clear, and you knew it was what you wanted.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Fever

Patch! Logan X F! Reader

He wants you to be his

A/N: the way this just kept going lol....Also consider this a hint/peek at what the Patch! series will look like! (w/ some things changed)

Warnings: 5K WC LOL, SMUT! reader is a singer and wears a sexy dress, creepy pervert boss- unwanted touch!, drinking, patch being a flirt, secret established relationship, possessive! logan, patch defending his girl so violence, unprotected piv, f! and m! oral recieving, doggy I guess?, choke hold, marking, a little bit rough sex but not that much, you get fucked silly, yay!

Getting through the night was always a little hard. 

As someone who hates being the center of attention, you’re not sure why you choose to be an entertainer of all things.

Standing on a stage, blinded by shining lights, made deaf by the orchestra that surrounds you. Wearing a dress that shows a tad too much cleavage, snapping your fingers to the beat while swinging your hips side to side and showing the world what your momma gave you.

Your voice echoes back in your ears as you sing and it doesn’t even sound like you. 

Sun lights up the daytime

Moon lights up the night

I light up when you call my name

And you know I'm gonna treat you right

You give me fever

Yet despite the quiet anxiety you feel onstage, where hundreds of onlookers watch you- faces of envy, jealousy, lust- you still felt yourself lost in the lyrics of your song. It captivates you, a song falling between love and lust. A song you find yourself in every day lately.

You couldn’t make out the sea of faces that stared up at you- the stage lights left white spots in your version, blurring the scene before you like a Claude Monet painting with the vast colors that decorated the crowd. 

Even with such an audience in the room, you could feel the stare of one man. Every set you play- even when you don’t see him, you can feel him. 

You finished your set, the last song of the night. Thank god.

The audience claps, a few whistles and whoops. You thanked them for a wonderful night, and handed the microphone off to the announcer who gave you a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, bidding you compliments and a good night to the audience and you quickly made your exit. 

The first place you went to is the bar. 

Needing a drink to take the edge off, and decompress before you head upstairs to your room. The bartender, a dear friend of yours- already knew you were on your way and had prepared your favorite. 

She had set it on the counter the moment you sat on your stool. 

“Thank you-” You smile, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you clear it. You took the glass, taking a generous sip that burned your throat and did nothing to quench your actual thirst- but at least you could relax a bit.

“Beautiful tonight as always,” She compliments. “ Y’know…” She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching, the bar- set off to the side of the large showroom sat mostly empty. Most patrons cleared out after the last song- drunk and horny and looking to either crash in their rooms or find an escort to keep them company for the night. “I noticed you’ve been singing a lot of love songs lately…” 

You rolled your eyes, “Sweetheart, my whole style is based on crooners. You show me a song from them that isn’t about love.”

“There’s a few I’ve heard you sing. This is different though you’re like…So into it.” She teases, tapping you on the hand that held your drink. She then mimics you singing, being extra dramatic in her expression and mimicking the lyrics. You begin to laugh.

“I don’t do that!” You playfully shoved her, but you felt heat blooming in your cheeks. You went to sip your drink while your friend continued teasing you, and you turned your back away from her- pretending as if you didn’t know her. 

You were smiling to yourself, looking down at your drink when you noticed a pair of dress shoes. You brought the glass to your lips, as your eyes trailed up the white suit that stood before you, taking in the broad shoulders before reaching the handsome face. 

An infamous man known as Patch, at least around here. Nicknamed by what you presume from the eyepatch that covers over his left eye. A repeat customer to the casino you perform for, a gambler with a very long streak of luck, and a penchant for getting into fights. You’ve heard he was banned from multiple casinos around Madripoor- due to his ability to win just about any and every game of chance, rumors say that he earned hundreds and thousands of earnings from his wins. Other rumors say it’s due to his other talent at throwing punches. 

No one knows his story, but then again- that was true for everyone in Madripoor.

He was famous for appearing as a gentleman, but underneath the classy suit, he was a scoundrel. 

You slowly lowered the glass from your lips, struck by his looks. Dark brown locks slicked back, and neatly trimmed mutton chops, giving him a more classy appearance. One of the guards of the casino once told you that he saw him first as a cage fighter, back when Patch first came to the city- and looked more like an wild, untamed animal, nothing like he does now. 

Your casino hasn’t thrown him out yet. This isn’t the first- nor will it be the last time he has approached you. All charm and smiles that you couldn’t help feel weak in the knees from. 

“Looked wonderful up there tonight, darling.” His voice was deep and low, the sound shooting up your spine. He stepped closer, a hand reaching out to rest on your hip. “- As always, of course.” His smile grew. 

His demeanor always held a certain intimidation, like he was posing a challenge to everyone in the room. He stood over you, looking down at you like you were prey, but you could see a glimmer in his eye- something familiar. 

A warm feeling pooled in your tummy at the way his hand softly caressed your hip. For a moment, you leaned in, getting yourself lost in the green of his eye. Reason struck you, and you stepped back, removing his hand from your hip and curling yours around his hand, feeling the warmth from him.

“Thank you.” You tilted your head, flashing your practiced smile, you give to anyone who comes to compliment you on the entertainment you provide. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I certainly did.” He hums, his smile fading into something more sincere, looking you up and down, and your heart flutters when he looks back at you again. He leaned down, bowing as he brought the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them gently to the skin and looking up at you- a lingering pause, before standing up. A cocky smirk returned on his face, “If you’re looking for company tonight, you know where to find me. Sweetheart.” 

He let go of your hand, bringing it over to tip your chin up, his eye grazed over your neck. He gave you a wink, before walking away. 

You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath the entire interaction. You watched him walk to the other end of the bar. Finally letting it out and tearing your eyes away to face the counter. 

Your friend was looking at you knowingly, raising a brow.

“Shush.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” She exclaims, holding her hands up defensively. “I saw how you were looking at him, though….”

“He was just complimenting me. I get multiple people who come up and do that every night.” You argue. 

“Whatever.” She says, “Just be careful. You know that guy has a reputation.” 

You shook your head, looking away to laugh her off. “There’s nothing to be careful about because there’s nothing happening.”

“Woah hold on-” Her hand reached out, stopping you from looking at her again. “You got a major hickey.”

“What?” You blinked in surprise. She laughs, 

“So much for nothing happening.” She smirks, removing her hand. You brought your own hand to touch where the so-called hickey was, a small panic hitting you. You were so sure you covered everything with makeup this morning! How could you miss it?

You glanced over to where Patch was sitting on the other end of the bar. He was watching you with a cocky expression, and toasted the glass of whiskey the other bartender had served him towards you, before taking a long swig- not breaking away his stare. 

You looked away, embarrassment creeping up your spine. You knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed- but the way Patch was staring at you, it made your thoughts run wild- and your thighs press together. 

You went to finish your drink off, so you could head back to your room upstairs- when a familiar voice sent dread through you, nausea bubbling in your stomach. 

You forced a smile, and turned around to give a semi-flirty look to your boss- the head of the casino.

Michael Karas, an older, filthy rich gentleman who hits on you every chance he’s got, and does whatever he can to parade you around under his arm and by his side. He was a known grade A pervert- all the girls who work under him do anything to minimize contact with him. He typically gets bored with one, moves on to another- but unfortunately for you, he has clocked in on you since you first came a year ago and hasn’t let go since. 

The man harasses you every night. You’ve been forced to get dinner with him, drinks, go to premiers and more. You gag at the gossip magazines in stores that imply you’re in a relationship with him. He’s repulsive, disrespectful, and just plain weird.

However, he is your boss, and one of the most powerful people in Madripoor. You tried to completely turn him down once, and was told that you would “disappear” if you ever refused him again. So you do whatever you can to remain at a professional, platonic level with him. Maintaining excuse after excuse as to why you couldn’t be with him. You acted like it was a fun little game- for him. Felt like survival for you.

So far it has worked- but lately Micheal has been coming on to you more. Being touchy and more demanding.  

You’re not sure how much longer you can push him away.

“Gorgeous!” He smiles as he walks to the bar counter where you sat, his arms open for you as he approaches. Surrounded by multiple men in security suits. You stood up to give him a polite hug, but he pulled you tighter to him, and gave you a wet kiss on the cheek. 

You attempted to hide the look of disgust on your face. Pulling away, you grabbed your drink and held it between you both, at least something to keep him a few inches away from your personal space. You brought your hand up to where the supposed hickey was located- hoping that Michael doesn’t notice that or your strange body language. 

“Your voice is as angelic as ever my dear.” He purrs and you let out a small laugh.

“Thank you Micheal.” You crossed your arms, and his arm slinked around your waist pulling you close. 

“Say, why don’t you come finish your drink with me? Hm?” His hand came up to boop your nose, which made you have to struggle to hide your cringe from him. 

“Uh…I…” You shook your head, struggling to find an excuse. “I’m really tired tonight, Micheal.” 

“Oh dear- You’re tired every night.” He moves to stand in front of you. “It’s not like it’s work to be with me. I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I already?” 

He flashes you a smile and you want to puke. 

“I just don’t feel good.” 

He frowns, tipping his chin up to look down at you. Letting go he steps back, his hands up in surrender, with a dry tone. “Hm, alright. God forbid I would want to catch something.” 

A smile of relief came across you and you nodded. “Exactly, I know you work so hard honey- That’s why it’s not a good time.” You squeezed his arm reassuringly. 

“Yeah, right.” He looks at you, tongue in cheek. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, turning to walk away- when his hand came down on your ass making you yelp. “Get some rest sweetcheeks because tomorrow night- You ain’t getting out of dinner with me.” 

You would have turned around and given him a piece of your mind, to lecture him- it didn’t matter who he was; he didn’t have a right to do that.

However, someone else beat you to it 

“Hey bub.” 

Patch was across the bar in a flash. Michael could barely react before he was met with Patch fist to his face, knocking him clean to the ground. 

One of the guards grabbed you and pulled you away causing you to stumble, while the others went after Patch, tackling him, landing punches across his face and stomach- only he didn’t seem affected. The scene went into chaos, as you watched your boss attempt to pick himself up from the ground, holding his jaw. Patch broke loose from three guards who were attempting to pin him to the counter and landed yet another punch to your boss, knocking him out as he fell to the ground. 

You don’t condone violence, however, this was extremely satisfying to witness.

Before you could do or say anything, the same guard dragged you away from the bar, out into the showroom, where he escorted you to the halls, where he left you to rejoin his brethren in an attempt to take down the one-eyed gentleman in the white suit. 

You stood there awkwardly, a little unsure of what to do. You heard sounds of clashing, disruption coming from the room- while party-goers walk past you with strange looks on their face, attempting to peer in. You give them an awkward smile, before turning to find another bar in the casino.

You really needed another drink.

After successfully getting one, you finally went back to your room. You dragged your feet, mind wandering back to Patch, and wondering if he got out okay. 

You reached the door to the penthouse you live in, amazing view, nice furniture. It’s cozy- maybe not exactly your style, but since you don’t have to pay rent, you couldn’t complain. Inserting your key card into the door, and walking into the darkness of your place. 

Except the light coming off a lamp in the corner of the living room drew your attention. 

There sat Patch on one of the chairs that adorned your living room. Leaning back with his legs spread and a glass of whiskey in hand. He smirked at your surprised expression. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

“Logan!” You hissed quietly under your breath, closing the door behind you and making sure it’s locked. He tilted his head, a false expression of confusion on his face. 

“What?” 

“You can’t just come in here like that- what if I was with somebody?” You walked towards him in the living room with your hands on your hips. 

“I would’ve taken care of it.” He says, turning to sip his whiskey before carefully setting it on the table next to him, atop a coaster. 

“Like you took care of Michael?”

He glanced up at you and smirked. Standing up, he walked over to you. You sighed, your hands reaching for the lapel of his coat. “You okay?” You ask, worry crosses your expression.

“Love when you worry about me.” He grins. “You know there ain’t no reason to.”

“Maybe…” You look down, frowning at the speckles of blood on his coat. He noticed what you were looking at, and shed it off, tossing it to the side and leaving him in slacks, a button-up dress shirt, and suspenders. “That’s better.” You hummed, your fingers looping under the suspenders and playfully snapping them against his chest. 

“Ow.” He mocks, and smiled down at you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your noses bumping against each other, as he held his lips inches away from yours.

“Not so tough, are you?” You whispered. 

“Against you? Definitely not.” He mumbles, his lips brushing over yours. “You okay?” 

“M’fine.” You nodded. He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. You shut your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips over your skin. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him.  “You’re going to get us caught flying off the handle like that-”

“Good.” He mumbles, continuing to shower your face, down to your neck, with kisses, making sure his lips touch every inch of your skin. “Tired of pretending like you ain’t mine.”

You heard a change of his tone, the growl of his voice when he said “mine” and it sent goosebumps down your arms. 

You’re not sure how this thing started between you and Logan- or “Patch”. He showed up, and swept you off your feet. Due to your “relationship” with your boss, or lack thereof, you and Logan have snuck around. It was fooling around initially- or so you thought. The feelings that have grown for the man known as Patch suddenly appeared just as quickly as he had.

Logan hated Micheal for more reasons than one- but for your own safety he dealt with it. He could’ve killed him, the bastard deserves it more than most people lives Logan had ended. However, with his own mission- it would cause some serious problems. Now, however…

It was fun initially, pretending not to know each other during the day, but by night…

However, Logan’s grown tired of that game. Tired of watching you from the distance- wishing he could hold you, have you sit in his lap during his sessions of gambling, and cuss out any fucker think he’s worth his salt to even look at you. 

“The bastards, lucky I didn’t chop his head off the moment he touched you.” He murmurs as he presses a kiss to your jaw. You tipped your head back, giving him purchase to your neck, your lips parting as you leaned into his kisses. “I’m gonna kill him, then he can’t ever fucking touch ya again-” 

“Logan-” You stopped him, and he looked at you with a quirked brow. “Not funny.” 

“I wasn’t joking.” He looked down at you. The expression in his eye sent chills down your back, and excitement. “I would have killed him tonight if it weren’t for his little team of babysitters.” 

“Lo.” You repeat his name, “He’s an asshole, I agree but killing him? You’re going to get yourself killed instead.” 

Sure, would Michael being gone be a weight off your - and likely hundreds of other shoulders? Yes. Aside from not wanting to condone murder… He is a well-known figure in this city. If Logan did anything and it was traced back to him… Healing factor or no, you couldn’t bear the idea of him getting hurt. 

“Can’t die, baby. You know that.” His hands climbed up to cup your face gently. “I’m getting sick of not being able to show you off. Everyone needs to know you’re mine.” 

You smiled, turning to kiss the palm of his hand. “I know, isn’t that enough?” 

His expression softened, and he leaned forward to capture you in a real kiss. His hands began to explore your body. Your lips moved over each other, possessive and passionate. He pushed you back, pushing you against the wall. 

“You act like you don’t condone what I do, but you forget I can hear your heartbeat baby.” He mutters between passionate smooches. “And I can tell when you start feeling all needy. Turned you on when you watched me make him pay for touching you, didn’t it?”

“Maybe…” You muttered under your breath. He chuckled, nipping your bottom lip, before turning his attention to your neck. Slowly he lowered himself down to his knees, pressing a trail of kisses down your center, kissing your belly through your dress as he looked up at you. One of his hands pressed to your lower back, while the other slipped past the slit of your dress, making contact with your skin. 

He smirked at the shiver that ran through you, as he brushed his hand over your thigh, before cupping for your ass, his fingers going underneath the hem of your panties. He continued pressing kisses to you through your dress while feeling you up. 

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He murmurs against the fabric of your dress. “Can you blame me for wanting to show you off?” 

“Mm.” You giggle. “I can’t risk you getting hurt Lo. I know you can’t die, but Micheal…He knows people. He gets any idea and he’ll figure out how to get you killed.” 

“Not if I get him first.” He suggests again. “He’s become a fucking annoyance with my own problems anyway.” 

Logan hasn’t told you exactly why he was here in Madripoor, where he came from, what he was even doing. Claims he’ll tell you one day, when it’s safe for you to know. You’re not sure if he’s telling the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when he worships you the way he does. 

His hand under your dress began tugging your panties down to your ankles. He helped you step out of them while pocketing them. He then helped you take off your heels before encouraging you to put one leg over his shoulder. 

Pressing a kiss to the top of your foot, then your ankle, he worked his way up until he was nipping the skin of your inner thigh. He pressed his lips into the crease of where your thigh met your core, licking the skin there, before turning his head to press a teasing kiss to your clit. You buried your hand into his hair, closing your eyes and tipping your head back against the wall, melting the moment his tongue made contact with your cunt. 

He lapped at you like a man dying of thirst, staring up at you to watch your every reaction. His hands supported you on your shaky legs as he buried himself in your folds. Licking every inch of you, before dipping his tongue into your hole. Quiet whimpers escaped you as you started to grind your hips over him.

“Lo…” You gasped, “Don’t stop-” 

“Wouldn’t dream of ever doing that princess-” He mumbles, eyes growing heavy as he became drunk off your essence.

Your fingers dug into his scalp painfully, and you heard him moan. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began sucking, his tongue swirling nonsensical shapes against the bud. He brought a hand to your core, a finger teasing your entrance before he buried it inside you. Your hips thrust forward, grinding over him as he brings you to your peak, lapping up every ounce of your ecstasy as you cry out his name, shaking before him. 

He stood up, picking you up with his hands on your ass, lips crashing onto yours before you could even catch your breath.. You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. 

“See how good you taste, princess?” He mumbles against you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he carried you back to your bedroom.  

The neon lights of buildings that towered over the casino hotel shone through your window. Shades of red highlighted Logan's face, as your hands caressed him. 

He dropped you onto the bed, before flipping you onto your belly- leaning over you and pressing open-mouth kisses against your neck and shoulders, before his teeth found the zipper of your dress, and tugged it downwards. He pulled the fabric apart, continuing to kiss your back while he began to undress himself. Pulling off the suspenders, he worked the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside. 

You were flipped back onto your back as he turned his attention back to undressing you. He lifted the hem of your dress up, as you helped him pull it off and get dropped to the side of the bed. 

He stood up, and you sat up with him, eagerly undoing his belt and tugging his pants down until they fell to his ankles, along with his boxers. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock. You reached your hand out to press against his belly, admiring the muscles that flexed from his touch. Tracing downwards until you grabbed the base of his cock. You looked up at him for permission.

He smirked. “Go ahead, sweetheart, get a little taste.” 

You smiled at his words, learning forward to dip your tongue into the slit of his tip. You swirled your tongue around his tip, then took it between your lips. 

You heard a harsh breath escape him as he tilted his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, his hand going into your hair. 

“Pretty girl…” He mutters. “I was thinking about this when I watched you sing tonight. Thinking about how those pretty lips making those pretty sounds looked on my cock.” 

A moan escaped you, and he pulled out. His hands gently pushed you back down onto the bed, and flipped you once again onto your belly, his arm wrapped around your waist to push you further up on the bed as he clambered after you, the mattress creaking under his weight.

He pushed your face into the plush duvet, angling your hips up. His cock rested against your cunt and you pushed back onto him, wiggling your hips. 

A chuckle escaped him, his hand pressed firmly into your back. “I know you want it baby, I got you.” he coos.

He took his shaft in hand, pushing himself through your folds. He coated himself with your arousal, teasing your hole by pushing his tip in and out of you, until you were whining, full of complaints that made him smirk.

“Logan!” You whimpered, arching your back and spreading your thighs further apart. Your hands gripped the sheets of your bed. 

“That’s what I like to see, beautiful.” He hums as he finally pushes himself inside you. “Pretty pussy’s been begging for me all night hasn’t she?”

He was slow, burying every inch into your pussy as if he was making sure you’d memorized every detail of his cock molding you inside. A deep moan escaped you. 

“There we go…” He purrs, “Big stretch, yeah?” 

You couldn’t even answer. Becoming mindless at the feeling of his cock thrusting into you. Your fingers curled into the sheets as you began mindlessly rocking your hips back onto him.

He settled one hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, and the other hand on his hip. He slowly pulled out, and back in- creating a steady pace as he watched his cock push into you. He listened to your breathy whimpers, smirking at the way your pussy clenched around him every time he buries himself to the hilt. 

He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as his hips became flushed against your ass. A hand snaked underneath you, first stopping to press circles into your nipple, before climbing up to wrap around your neck. He gently squeezed you, delivering a hard thrust just to listen to you cry out.

“Love your voice darling, and your little songs- but fuck do I love hearing those sounds more.”

You tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him. He leaned down, sucking at your skin.

“Care- Careful-” You breathed, becoming semi-aware again. “You already left one mark.” 

“I know.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice. “I told you, sweetheart-” 

His steady thrusts began to go faster, his legs kicked yours farther apart. His free hand pushed down on your waist, keeping your back arched against him. 

“I’m done hiding the fact that you’re mine.” He growls. “Don’t give a shit what that snot-nosed rich boy gotta say about it. So don’t bother being quiet, everyone is going to know tomorrow who you belong to.” 

You cried out as his gentle thrusts became brutal, his grip on you becoming tighter as he grunted. The bed shook with his movements. He turned his head, pressing his lips against your cheek- a gentle reminder of his love for you. 

There was a feeling stirring in the pit of your belly, but before you could focus. His arms came around you, pulling you up onto your knees. One arm wrapped around your waist- your arms pinned at your side, while his other arm wrapped around your neck in a headlock. He continued thrusting up into you, hitting the spot that made you a ragdoll against him.

“C’mon, darling- The neighbors can’t hear you.” He says through gritted teeth. You were rendered speechless- until his hand reached and found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that made your body spasm against him. 

“Oh-!” You cried out. You reached up to bury your nails into his arm that held you in a headlock. “Lo- Patch!” You nearly screamed Logan's name, only to remember that if he wants people to know you belong to him; you have to use his alias. 

You heard him snort through heavy pants. “Good girl-” He grunts. 

“Patch- Please!” You whimpered, 

“Cum for me princess-” He purrs. 

Obeying his words, you came for the second time while he fucked you through it. Your body shook against him, and he let you out of the headlock. You fell back onto the mattress, your body limp and shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm.

His hands grabbed your hips- and he continued fucking into you and not slowing down. You could tell by his breathy pants and the way his thrusts turned sloppy, that he was close- and you were already approaching your third orgasm of the night. Your limbs too weak at this point to do anything, so your laid there as he had his way with you- fucking into you at an incredibly messy pace- your mouth hung open and you nearly started to drool- becoming dumb from his cock. 

He leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder and he rutted into you, burying himself completely before a harsh grunt of your name escaped him- and you felt the warm feeling of his cum filling you up inside. A loud snikt! was heard, and you opened your eyes to see his fist buried into your mattress. Your sheets were going to need to be replaced now- not that you really minded.

 Breathy moans filled your ear, sending you off once more into your own pleasure while he continues small ruts into you, making sure you’re filled to the brim with him. 

Once finished, he gently pulled out of you, collapsing at your side with a deep groan. 

“Fuck.” He hissed. His hand lazily went to your back, softly stroking it with his knuckles. “You good, baby?” 

“Mm.” You could barely mutter, turning your head to face him with sleepy eyes and a smile. You managed a tired nod. 

“That’s my girl.” 

He took a deep breath and sat up. “Let's get you cleaned up.” 

“No.” You muttered, lazily reaching out to stop him. “Leave it.” 

A devious grin grew on his face, He leaned back with one arm crossed behind his head. Opening the other for you to curl into his side. ”Dirty girl.” he hums under his breath, before turning to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“If…I’m yours, that means you’re mine too, right?” 

Butterflies stirred in his stomach, he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m all yours.”

[comicaurora]

I am so incredibly excited about my physical copy and now the sticker sheet. your comic has brought me immense joy for the past few years, I completely adore it and try to recruit all of my friends into reading it whenever I get the chance (I sometimes succeed! and it'll be even easier if I can hand them a book...). What format does the giveaway need receipts in though? I ordered from B&N and it gave me a confirmation email, do I just sent a screenshot of the order summary?

I haven't heard any formatting restrictions, so I think any image of the receipt should work!

[nappilled]

⋆˙⟡Playing Chicken (And Losing) — Jealous Husband Gojo x Reader ⋆˙⟡

͙͘͡★ Synopsis—Your husband has never, ever been accused of being subtle, though he was unaware of this fact himself and as his wife, you had always tried your best to persuade him to be rational and accommodating to others who weren't at his level. And usually it works. Usually. There are certain instances where your advice for rational words and actions had no affect on him and only he could calm himself down through more... private means.

CW: dom! Gojo, f!reader, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight pregnancy kink, petnames (hubby, love, baby etc.)

A/N—Hello everyone! this is my first fic that i'm posting online! If there's any tags I missed in the CW pls let me know :)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　

Gojo was rarely ever jealous since most sorcerers knew: A) who you were, B) what you meant to him and C) the repercussions of even laying a finger on you- which were nauseating to say the least

But this is the ever-lax Gojo we're talking about here, so of course there are exceptions to this rule; his students being the biggest exception for one, certain co-workers who you were bound to run into on a near-daily basis and Ijichi (his fear of gojo outweighed his interest in becoming friends with you so he doesn't really bother you anyways). Gojo isn't the type to get jealous from you interacting with everyday people.

With that said his tolerance for bullshit is extremely thin, and one of Ijichi's trainees just trampled all over the line.

It was purely coincidental on your end, the newbie had gotten completely lost on their first day and you took it upon yourself to guide them to their destination, you were even kind enough to give them a custard bun you bought that day (it was meant for Gojo but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him).

That's not to say that he doesn't trust you, but he doesn't like how this new auxiliary manager has been cosying up to you lately; it was so clear that they had the hots for you... didn't they know you were the wife of Satoru Gojo?

If gojo's six eyes had the ability to burn holes in people, that manager you're talking to would be a pair of bagels. This asshole just grabbed your hand suddenly while beaming ear to ear, not once noticing that the strongest sorcerer loomed over you, burning with jealousy; he had to have been really cocky or really stupid to not sense the murderous intent that oozed from behind you, out of nowhere the new manager hugs you then runs off in the other direction.

You liked to believe that when it came to you that Gojo could be a reasonable man and as such, you had tried your best to assure him that it was just a silly crush and that nothing would come of it... but unfortunately that wasn't good enough for him. you should have told him right there who you belong to.

"Oh grow up 'toru it's not like he could steal me away from you"

Gojo pouted at your ignorance to the situation at hand it was like you were obviously missing the point. Next time you saw him you had to tell him you were Gojo Satoru's woman.

"Or what? 'You gonna punish me?"

Well yes!

~~

Thick, salty tears rolled down your cheeks as your husband continued to tease your entire body.

Only one finger slowly drawing out of your dribbling pussy… only to be slapped in as hard and fast as you could take, the other hand massaged your tits and teased your perky nipples.

“I’ll ask again pretty girl, what do you want? Say it niiice and clear for me”

“W-wan’ your cock’n only your cock p-please”

You blearily pleaded to him over and over as you began to lose your mind from his idea of simple teasing.

“Please who?” He asked.

“S-satoruuUUUU A-AAHH” you scream out as your head turns to static from pain and pleasure that came from your husband wedging your clit between his middle and index knuckles, then squeezing down it, eliciting a voiceless moan to slip out of your body.

“Wrong answer, love” he purred into your ear as he pinched down on your clit a little harder "try again."

You knew what he wanted you to call him. In any other scenario it would be a flat out no due to how embarrassing the name was, but you poor thing… you were too far gone, stripped bare and a quarter sane, so you began to babble the name over again, mixing it in with the previous pleas from before.

“H-hubby pleeaase f-fuck me hubbyyyy pleaaaaasepleasepleasepleaseplease”

“What a shameless little whore I have for a wife. But since you asked so nicely and cutely for me…”

He roughly and unceremoniously pushes your back away from his chest, your chest and stomach squirm on the cool, glass table beneath you. Your senses are completely shot from being completely blissed out just by a few fingers, you babble and moan as your gushing cunt squeezes and relaxes around nothing. You make the mistake sliding up the table in a feeble attempt at feeling some friction against your painfully hardened nipples and slick-soaked clit. Gojo immediately pulls you back down to your initial position and slaps your pussy. You yell out a twisted amalgamation of a scream and a moan. While you still keen from the sensation, gojo grips the fat of your ass in both hands, spreading them apart to reveal your puffy lips hiding beneath them. keeping your ass spread, he bent down and licked a long, slow stripe up your pussy, you stifle a moan as best you could as he dragged his tongue down from your puffy clit all the way up to your juicy hole, Gojo shifted back slighty and swished something around in his mouth before spitting a thick mixure of his saliva and your slick back into your hole.

"remember baby, don't move okay?"

You were familiar with this punishment, you didn't move an inch while he devoured your sopping cunt, lest you wanted 10 slaps to your ass, you wouldn't have minded if it didn't mean he'd finish there and then, none of his dick and worse yet, no cumming for the rest of the week. and it's not a game you like to play either. the last time that happened you had to call off sick from how horny he had left you, you ended up deep throating him with no movement in his office for 40 minutes to make up for it. never again.

He continued the agonising process of slowly alternating between slurping your juices, licking strips along you and spitting it all back into your pussy hole. With absolutely no stimulation to your clit which was now desperate for some attention.

Your head spun from how tortuously slow it was and worse yet, you couldn't move an inch, unless you wanted an even worse punishment, so you resorted to sitting there and taking the painfully slow pussy eating like a good girl.

That was until Gojo purposefully accidentally nudged his tongue at just the right point on your needy little bud and that small but meaningful push sent you hurdling over the edge; your mouth flew open as you strangled out a moan and your back arched into a perfect crescent.

Something about that particular moan flipped a switch in Gojo, instinctively flipping you on your back for better access to his favourite snack. His mouth instantly latched to your precious pearl with a low groan that sent vibrations from your pussy all the way to your already fuzzy mind. Gojo licked and sucked at you with the fervour of a man starved, poking the tip of his tongue into the crevices at either side of your clit before swirling around the very tip and finally laying flat on it and dragging it slightly as he sucks down harshly, Your mouth agape throughout the whole ordeal. His hands that had an iron grip on the plush underside of your thighs found eventually found their way elsewhere on your spent body, his left found it's way back to your pebbled nipples while his right teased your folds. you moan wantonly from the way the tip of his middle finger dares to plunge into your pussy.

But even in your blissed out state you had enough sense to beg your hubby to not tease you anymore and you communicated this by tugging on the placket of his dusty blue shirt and he understood clearly. He curled his fingers so that it pressed perfectly on that spot that always had your sweet cunt juices flowing like a river- he slammed his fingers in and out of your pussy at an aching pace while his thumb rubbed sweet circles onto your clit until the lips of your pussy fluttered around his fingers.

You came.Hard. You always did. and it was always up to Gojo to carry you to the bedroom to give you your reward that he knows you're desperate for.

Chucking you on the plushy comforter woke you out of your trance just enough to be ready for what came next… he tapped the tip of his cock on your still sensitive bud, causing you to squirm. He grabbed your jaw to force you to look him dead in his deep blue eyes.

“Are you going to be a naughty girl and get nothing? Or are you going to be a good girl and wait for my cock?” He mumbled against the shell of your ear as he towered above you.

"'ll be a gud girl..." drool pouring out the side of your mouth.

"attagirl!" was the last thing he said to you before he thrusted his entire length into you with no warning and hardly any time to adjust, even after 2 years of marriage you just couldn’t get used to how your man would stretch your insides and fill you to the brim, if it weren’t for how wet you were you were sure he’d rip you in half then and there.

Voiceless moans were shoved to the forefront of your throat as he immediately set a relentless pace. After about the tenth or twelfth thrust your voice finally gave way to loud animalistic moans.

"crying for your hubby like you aren't a little fucking whore for everyone?" His words had your pussy fluttering around him, hot tears spilled down your face as you cum on his cock for the second of many times that night, heaving and still babbling nonsense when suddenly you feel a sharp pain split across your right butt cheek. You find yourself being hoisted up by your neck so your ear once again finds Gojo's lips pressed against it, he whispered into the shell of your ear without slowing his brutal pace for even a second.

"Well? aren't you gonna answer me?"

"'m 'nly a whore fr you... 'nly wan' your cock" you slur out.

"yeah? only me pretty girl?"

"only hubby... hah- Only my hubbyy" you were so close to being fucked completely and utterly stupid.

"you'll do anything your hubby tells you to do, right?"

"yes... ahh y-yesh!!! 'nything for hubby"

Gojo wasting no time pulled out of you, flipped you on your back and fucked himself back into you. his large palm firmly pressed on your stomach so that he could feel his own cock slip in and out of you, a twisted smile spread across his face and his eyes glowed and ominous blue.

"so when hubby says he wants to knock you up, you'll let him right?"

You've talked to Gojo about this before (y'know when you're sane and not literally fucked stupid), while gojo was ready to start a family the second he put a ring on your finger, you wanted to enjoy your alone time with your husband (now dubbed 'hubby') before the pitter patter of tiny limitless users came to disrupt it; any other time it would have been a "not yet my love, maybe next time" but you were, again not sane so the next thing that came from your mouth was:

YEEESSS!!! FUCK ME TILL I'M PREGNANT PLEAASSEE!!!

You didn't care anymore, you were completely broken. you cackled to yourself about how badly you wanted him to fuck you forever until you were pregnant 8 times and how badly you needed his seed. you wanted his cum and you wanted it now.

"want hubby to breed you? you want hubby to fuck a baby into you? want him to make your tummy swollen with his child, yeah? you need your tits huge and full of milk because of hubby right?" Gojo was beginning to lose it a little himself with all the talk of getting you pregnant.

"been wanting to do this to ya for so long" he strained drilling into you as deeply as possible and ready to shoot his load into you.

The pressure building up inside you was teetering dangerously on the edge your eyes rolled back into your skull and your tongue hung out of your mouth as if to play dead, but your big strong husband would soon bring you back to life as his palm drifted down to your crotch, he replaced his palm pressing on your stomach with his thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing the bundles of nerves within with such finesse it sent shocks through your whole body.

The pressure became to much and caused you burst back into the land of the living with an arch of your back and a half scream half moan strained from your throat, your pussy gushed all over your hubby's cock and finger you came so much and hard that you couldn't even hear yourself cum.

The tight clasp of your cumming pussy had Gojo coming undone not soon after. thick spurts of hot cum filled you up until that began squirting out of you too.

Gojo didn't move an inch. he was dead serious about getting you pregnant and kept you plugged up for the rest of the night, whether it was fucking his cum back into you, refilling you to replace all of the cum that slipped out or simply cockwarming himself, he wasn't letting you go any time soon. Too tired and ready to sleep? too bad. the man was on a mission, he'd just whisper to you? "tired already? but i'm just getting started" and get right back to it.

It was safe to assume the next time you saw that new auxiliary manager, you'd have to tell him that carried the child of the strongest sorcerer inside you.

Taglist: @miyahsinactive

[katnipp]

it was always you— megan skiendiel

genre: FLUFF WOOHOO

synopsis: when y/n and megan reunite while sorting through old memories at megan’s family home, a forgotten childhood photo sparks feelings they’ve both buried.

warnings: there will be a few flashbacks in this so they’ll be marked like this!

a/n: decided to stop with the angst for @kkoga sake😤

—

the attic creaked with every tiny movement, dust swirling in the golden light. somewhere downstairs, megan’s parents laughed with the guests, music faint under the buzz of cicadas. but up here, it was like the whole world had gone still, caught in its breath.

“you sure it’s in here?” y/n asked, trying to sound casual, even though her heart was thudding painfully.

her fingers toyed nervously with the hem of her shirt as she glanced at megan —so effortlessly beautiful it made y/n’s chest hurt.

megan shot her a grin over her shoulder. “if it’s not, you’re allowed to yell at my mom.” she huffed as she shifted a dusty box aside. “very loudly.”

y/n laughed under her breath. “i would never yell at her”

they dug in silence for a moment, the only sounds the rustle of old papers and the creak of wood.

then something caught y/n’s eye. a flash of color, half-hidden between two old albums.

she knelt down, heart suddenly racing, and tugged it free: a battered polaroid.

and the second she saw it, she forgot how to breathe.

two little girls sat cross-legged on a patch of grass, arms slung over each other’s shoulders.

y/n in her favorite overalls, megan wearing y/n’s too-big rainbow bucket hat, laughing so hard her whole body tilted toward y/n.

the edges of the photo were frayed, but the joy was timeless.

y/n turned it over with trembling hands.

“y/n + megan = best friends forever,” it said in thick blue crayon, the letters wobbly and full of hope.

her chest squeezed painfully.

“megan,” she croaked, holding the photo out.

megan straightened up and crossed over, her smile fading when she saw y/n’s face.

“what—” she started, then froze.

her fingers flew to her mouth.

“oh my god,” she whispered.

they both sank down onto the floor, knees knocking together, staring at the picture like it was a piece of themselves they hadn’t known was missing.

“i remember this,” y/n said hoarsely, tears stinging behind her eyes.

—

sunlight blazing overhead. megan grabbing her hand, squealing, “let’s run to the river!” their bare feet pounding across the grass.

megan scraping her knee on a rock, y/n immediately dropping down beside her, tearing the hem off her own shirt to press against the scrape. “it’s okay. i’ll fix it. i always will.”

the two of them sitting under the big oak tree, heads leaned together, carving a crooked heart into the bark with a plastic knife. inside it: M + Y/N

—

“how did we forget?” megan whispered, her voice breaking.

“we didn’t,” y/n said immediately. “our hearts didn’t. they were just waiting.”

megan stared at her, wide-eyed, like she was seeing her for the first time.

like maybe she had been looking for her without realizing it.

“you were always the brave one,” megan said, her fingers brushing lightly over the photo. “you always said we’d be something amazing.”

—

seven-year-old y/n standing on the sidewalk, arms spread wide. “one day we’ll go to space together,” she announced. “just you and me.”

little megan clapping delightedly. “i’ll hold your hand the whole time so you don’t float away.”

—

“you made me believe we could do anything,” megan said, her voice thick with emotion. “i think… i think i loved you even back then.”

y/n’s heart stuttered.

“i know i did,” she whispered, barely breathing.

megan’s eyes shimmered, and suddenly they were leaning closer, like magnets pulled by a force older than memory itself.

their lips met—tentative at first, sweet, questioning.

then deeper, hungrier, as if trying to make up for all the lost years.

—

ten-year-old megan pressed a daisy chain onto y/n’s head, both of them giggling. “you’re my princess,” megan said shyly. y/n grinning wide, crowning megan back with her own.

both of them lying side by side on the grass after a long day, watching the stars blink into existence.

“promise me you’ll always find me,” little megan said, reaching out blindly

“i promise,” y/n whispered, lacing their pinkies together.

—

back in the attic, megan broke the kiss, gasping, forehead resting against y/n’s.

“you still owe me a popsicle,” she whispered, smiling through her tears.

“i’ll get you a thousand popsicles,” y/n said fiercely, cupping her face with both hands. “every color, every flavor. for the rest of our lives.”

megan let out a breathless laugh, her smile crumpling at the edges as she surged forward, kissing y/n again, hands tangling in her hair.

they kissed until their knees ached and their cheeks were damp and they couldn’t tell if the salt on their tongues was from tears or laughter.

when they finally pulled back, megan cupped y/n’s cheeks gently.

“stay,” she whispered. “please.”

y/n kissed her palms, one after the other, slow and sure.

“i’m not going anywhere,” she promised. “not this time.”

outside, the sun dipped into the horizon, painting the attic in sleepy gold.

downstairs, the world went on, but up here—time folded in on itself, wrapping around two girls who had been finding each other again and again since the very beginning.

because it had always been them.

it would always be them.

and now, finally, they knew it.

—

[slutforwoo]

rumors

| Choi San -one shot |

|☆ pairing: heiress!reader x heir san!

|☆ summary: rumor has it, the heir of Choi International has the hots for the heiress of the Kim Family Empire. seems it’s getting around to everyone, he said, she said situation. well. the up coming banquet might shed the light on these so called “rumors”

|☆ genre: 2nd chance?, smut, fluff

|☆ warnings: lower case intended, unprotected sex (use protection), oral (both f and m receiving), cum swallowing, san kisses read after he eats her out, semi rough sex, slight sub/dom dynamics, san is down bad, degrading, overstimulation. uh let me know if I missed anything! (probably did also not proofread it's 3 am and I was on a writing roll)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

he said, she said, it’s all you heard these days. lord knows your sick of it. why did everyone have to poke their noses into your business? you turn 24 still single with no boyfriend or husband, the community talks. and they talk quite loudly. he said she said. some believe your family set an arranged marriage, some believe you had a secret affair with god knows who. while others noticed the subtle looks and touches with none other the it boy himself. Choi. San.

you met when you were still teenagers, your parents deciding to go vacationing in Italy at the same time as his. you deemed it a silly summer fling when you were 18. yet you found yourself reminiscing about the midnight walks along the dimly light streets, exchanging sweet nothings to each other. the night at the beach where you laid together watching the stars above. sneaking around the hallways of the vacation house your family owned. you remembered every bit of it.

that summer engraved into your mind, but that’s all it was. a summer that no one knew about. it was a precious secret you shared. one only between you and him. but you never saw him again after your family left, until 3 years ago he moved to new york with his family. next thing you knew, it was stolen glances and touches at banquets and charity events. small talk every now and then when your friend groups mingle. but deep down you both knew you wanted to explore what you couldn’t before.

bringing you to now, sitting in your makeup chair as the stylist do your hair and makeup for tonight’s banquet. the jung corporation was throwing a masquerade ball charity event. and of course your parents demanded your attendance.

“miss y/n?” a voice called from the door way, one of the housekeepers walking in with a package.

“this was delivered for you, excuse me” she handed the package to you before excusing herself.

you looked at the black velvet box, tied with a red bow and a note. carefully uniting the bow you grab the note,

‘can’t wait to see you tonight beautiful. rumor has it we’re having a secret relationship you know. I hope you like the mask -C.S’

you feel the smile tug at your lips, placing the note to the side you open the box. inside lying a beautiful lace mask, adorned with small diamonds and pearls. you hold it in awe, he remembered your favorites, he knew you were likely to wear a black gown, if not black then emerald green. he knew regardless that it would match.

the stylist and makeup artist eye each other before eyeing you. you felt the way they stared, “if either of you say anything about this. I will make sure you never work again do you understand me” you spoke in a low tone. eyeing both women as they nod their heads quickly.

“Leah!” you call out, to your personal bodyguard who you had trusted your life with.

she walked over to you stoping in the door way. “yes miss?”

you place the note inside the box before you close it, “can you place this on my bed please, don’t let anyone touch it”you smiled handing her the box as she swiftly nods and walks away.

soon, you're heading to your room to change and do some final touches before leaving. walking in and locking the door before you changed into the beautiful gown your mother picked. you couldn’t be bothered with buying a gown yourself, so your mother decided to take it into her hands, making you grateful you didn’t have to.

after getting zipped up and slipping on your heels. you admire yourself in the mirror, happy with how you looked before adding the final touches, the silk gloves, pearl and diamond necklace with its matching bracelet. elegant and simple. opening the velvet box once more to pull out the beautiful mask.

“miss y/n? it is time to go your parents are waiting for you” Leah spoke as you spray your favorite perfume before following her to the entrance on the bottom floor.

“oh honey you look amazing”your mother gasped as she sees how beautiful her only daughter looks.

“thank you mother, where’s hongjoong?” you say as you scan for your older brother who was no where to be found at the moment.

that was until you hear foot steps coming down the stairs, taking a quick look to see your brother adorned in his custom balmain suit.

“alright, we all look good, y/n you look beautiful sweetheart. and hongjoong you really did inherit my good looks” your father laughed as he opened the door for everyone to leave, getting into the car and having the driver take them to the jung estate.

the ride was filled with the chatter of your family catching up on everyone’s deals. contrary to what people would expect your parents were very relax for the fact they have an empire to pass down. when hongjoong expressed his desire to work in the music industry they were weary about it, but when they learned you wanted to inherit the empire. they decided since you wanted it, you’d get it. thus them being very supportive of your brothers music career. having become a big deal in producing as well as making his own music.

“now y/nnie remember, the other mothers will try to set you up with their sons. do not feel pressured to say yes. you know how your father and I don’t care if you get married okay?” your mother spoke as you guys arrived at the estate. reassuring you it was okay to say no and they would deal with any complaints thrown their way.

“thank you mother, I hope we all enjoy our time here tonight” you smiled as you gave her a quick hug before exiting the vehicle. sliding down your mask as you walk the red carpet to get inside, paparazzi cameras flashing left and right. of course they’d be here, why fucking wouldn’t they. making a mental note to be extra careful in case of anything later in the night.

entering the estate was like entering another world, the living space filled with socialites and ceos. the lights dim, allowing the candles placed around to give it a darker feel. my god you loved it, the violins playing in the background, the quite chatter and whispers.

you allow yourself to walk around sipping on a glass of champagne, while simply admiring the decorations and mood of this event. casually tuning Into the whispers that were happening around you, eying you down.

“I heard she’s engaged to jung wooyoung”

“well I heard she’s engaged to choi jongho, isn’t she lucky”

“i’ve heard there’s something secret going on with her and choi san”

“well ive heard she’s a whore and that’s why she hasn’t settled down yet”

ah and there it was. those damn rumors. irritation growing in ur veins as you down the champagne and decide to wonder away from the main event. navigating the corridors and eventually finding an empty library on the other end of the estate.

you take in the the beautiful old library, the rustic wood that ran along the shelves. the fire place that was lit dimly, the small couches in the center. the different paintings that hung in the empty spaces here and there.

being so sucked into your own world you didn’t even hear when the door opened.

“it’s beautiful right?” a voice spoke, causing you to jump as you turn around. your eyes locking onto those cat like eyes. eyes that you would recognize anywhere. choi san.

“just absolutely stunning. I hope to build one like it at my own estate”you smiled “thank you for the mask san” his name rolled off your tongue, and he loved the way it sounded.

“anytime princess”he smiled, allowing himself to fully walk into the library closing the door shut behind him. “you know princess, there’s been a lot of rumors about us lately” he said, stoping directly in front of you.

“tell me something I don’t know san”you sigh, looking up at the man who was a bit too close for your liking considering the fact you felt hot with him this close to you. “I heard you cant get me out of your head choi. is it true?” you spoke in questionable tone as you held eye contact with him.

“I heard that you write about me in that journal you carry around y/n”he states stepping closer to you, making you take a step back into the bookshelf.

“maybe I do” you admit, it was true. you continuously wrote about that summer, wishing for it to become a reality once more. to be his once again, this time longer than a fling.

“then maybe it’s true I can’t get you out of my head” he whispered, his hand reaching up to your cheek. slowly caressing it.

his hands felt like fire against your skin in the best way possible. you found yourself leaning into his touch. eyes looking up at him with the same adoration you did 5 years ago. san can swear he felt his knees almost give out on him. god he couldn’t help but admire the beautiful woman you became.

oh how badly he wanted to admit he kept tabs on you, he owned every magazine you were on the cover of, any interview he’s seen it, any product promotion he’s bought. he never forgot about you.

“san, we can’t do this and you know it”you whispered as he snaked his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. lips just inches apart.

“we’re both single y/n. neither of us have anything to lose”he spoke and he was right. if anything both of your parents would be ecstatic. but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to do this all in secret. the touches, glances, occasional meet ups.

“but it’s so much more fun this way” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck to look up at him. “don’t tell me you don’t think it’s fun”you pout.

he chuckles and goes to remove your mask, wanting to see all of you. god you genuinely were so gorgeous and he didn’t understand how a person could be so captivating. “it’s fun but, i’m sick of people asking you to marry their sons”he whispered before pulling you into a deep and hungry kiss.

you returned the hungry and need into the kiss. his lips were just as soft as you remembered. he pushes you more into the bookcase, causing a moan to escape your lips when he bit your lip and kissed his way down your neck.

“s-san we can get caught”you pant as he continues to kiss down your collarbone.

“locked the door and woo doesn’t care”he mumbles against your skin. leaving a couple more kisses before he returned to eye level. “tell me you want this or i’ll stop”he said lips hovering over your own once more. and there was nothing you wanted more than him in this moment.

“I want it san. take me” the whisper leaves your lips as he crashes his into yours once more, hands finding the back of your dress. he undoes the bow holding the corset together as your hands slip off his jacket and get to unbuttoning his shirt.

your dress falls to the ground, gathering at your feet before sam guides you out, sitting you on the couch as he took off his shirt and slacks, leaving him in his boxers.

but god did the sight of you sprawled out on the couch look divine. the dark red lingerie clung to your figure accentuating every curve. eyes that were eyeing him down like if he was prey. it’s the sight he prayed for. he was hoping he’d see tonight.

“come on, remind me who I really belong to”you snark, eyeing him up and down with a smug grin on ur face as you tilt your head.

in that he wasted no more time, pulling your panties to the side to dive his tongue into you. causing a broken moan to leave your lips. it had been so long since you and him did this. almost 10 months ago. and there was no way you were letting anyone other than san touch you this way. he sucked and nibbled on your clit, making you moan out his name.

“fuck san more. please” you moaned as he explored every inch of you, going as deep as his tongue would let him. leading you to be a squirming mess. it just felt so good. you knew your body would react this way, it always did. he knew you like the back of his hand. he knows how to make you feel the utmost pleasure anytime you sleep with him.

san finding himself devouring you as if he’d never see you again. every drop of your slick on his tongue. god he would never. ever get enough of eating you out. knowing that he makes a mess of you with this alone.

“g-gonna come”you whine out, legs locking around his head. his arms finding your thighs to hold you in place as you climax on his tongue. collecting some of your cum in his mouth, he came back up to kiss you. making you taste how sweet you were.

“let me return the favor”you pulled away smiling as you stood up and pushed him on the couch that was behind him. dropping to your knees, taking the hair tie that you kept in your purse and tying up your hair.

not allowing him to argue as you pull down his boxers and take his dick into your hands. pumping it a couple times before taking him into ur mouth. going nice and slower for a bit before you picked up the pace.

hollowing out your cheeks as you let your tongue go flat as you suck him off.

“oh fuck y/n”he groaned as he took your ponytail into his hand. guiding you up and down slightly. you wanted it hear more. you needed to. you loved the sound of his groans and whines.

so you did the first thing that came to mind. you took him all the way in. your nose touching his pelvic bone, slightly gagging as san takes this opportunity to thrust into your throat. causing broken whines to escape his lips. “ ‘m gonna cum baby” he whined as he tried to take you off his dick to cum on you. but you wouldn’t let him.

you wanted every last drop of him in your mouth. so you kept going until his hips sputtered and he stilled. coating your throat and mouth white as he pulled out to see your makeup runny from gagging and tearing up. you smiled at him as you swallowed what was left in your mouth, getting up from the floor you straddle him.

“i’m yours sannie” you whispered in his ear as you lined him up with your entrance. slowly sinking down on him. loud moans escaping your mouth as you stretch to fit him inside you. his hand makes its way to your mouth.

“now you can’t be too loud either. quite down or ill fuck your face down into this sofa. understood?” he spoke before you completely sink down on him. nodding your head yes to being as quite as possible.

moving your hips up and down, you enjoy the slight pain than comes with adjusting to his length. arms finding their way to his chest for support as you bounced up and down on him.

“your such a good girl y/n. my good girl you know that” he whispered as he grabbed onto your hips, hugging you close to him before thrusting up into you.

moans pour out one after three other as san picks up his pace. “a-all y-yours sannie”you whined out as his dick dragged against your walls making you feel like you were on cloud nine. he was hitting spots you didn’t even know where there.

“all. fucking. mine” he moaned out as he moved you into all fours on the couch, pushing your head into the couch as he fucked you from behind.

“I doubt the mothers would want you with their sons if they saw how much of a slut you are for me”he panted as he picked up the peace. he had to remind you who your body adored. but you knew it wasn’t just your body who adored him. your heart did too.

“s-san please fuck too much” you cry out. tears streaming down your cheek as you mumble out incoherent words. “ gonna cum”

“come for me baby. come on show me who you belong to” he said, giving hard and fast thrust. pushing you over the edge as your body shook and your walls tightened around him.

san knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, he tried to pull out but you stopped him.

“i’m on the pill. in me. please”you beg, mind and body overwhelmed from the pleasure.

you didn’t have to tell san twice, with a few more thrust he stills and spills inside of you. his body collapsing on your to lay on your chest.

he listened to your rapid heartbeat slow down. “you did so well for me princess”he said, looking up at you as he held you close to him. “and I meant it. be mine in the eye of the public. please y/n”he begged, tracing your collarbone.

“i’ve always been yours san”you whisper out loud enough for him to hear. looking down at his flushed face and messy hair.

“well then shall we prove the rumors right?” he suggested as he helped you get up and clean urself before he redresses himself.

helping your take your hair and touch up with the makeup you keep in ur purse. removing the most messy parts and touching up.

as he’s zipping your your gown up, he places a kiss on your shoulder before whispering into your ear “all mine”.

you both take a couple of last looks to make sure you look completely presentable before exiting the library and making your way back to the event. couples danced on the floor to the slow classical tune that played.

san grabbed your hand as he led you to the center of the dance floor, pulling you close to him.

you smile to urself as you hear the audible gasp around the room. whispers that weren’t quite whispers as the two of you danced in each others arms.

“there’s is no way”

“he picks her out of all the girls?!”

“she’s so lucky”

“no he’s lucky do you guys not know how powerful she already is”

“I knew those damn rumors were right”

the whispers continued and continued. but you both could care less. the way your body filled with our happiness because he was holding you close in front of all the women and men that want him. yet he wants you.

“let’s get out of here?” he whispers

“absolutely”you smile

he takes your hand and the two of you run out of the estate, you stumble taking your heels off to run faster. having no idea where he is leading you.

but there you were. running hand in hand with the man you wanted to have so badly. and you had him once again this time you were positive on never letting him go again.

finally after a bit of running you made it to the edge of a beautiful lake lit with lanterns and fairy lights. the both of you sat underneath the stars, your head in his lap looking at his beautiful smile he had.

“i didn’t think id ever be grateful for those rumors you know”

“oh princess. you were going to be mine either way. they just helped speed up the process without me knowing” he laughed as he held your face.

and there it was. that same feeling he gave you 5 years ago on the beach in italy. it made you smile like an idiot. an idiot who was finally able to relive what she wanted most. and one who also just got something she’s wanted for a while. maybe it was your fault it took so long. but neither of you could deny how fun it was to feed the rumors.

[loveharlow]

Can you write something about jj and y/n doing this while their at a sleepover with the pogues and he post the picture in his Snapchat story or something like this please?

this pic is so like the girlfriend where everyone is like "oh she seems sweet" because she's like one of the cutesy, stuffed animal collecting, always smiling girls but then JJ always cuts in with something like "nah, man" bc he knows she isn't so innocent

"Look who finally showed up." Kiara announced, swinging the door of The Chateau open and eyeing you both down with a motherly look of disapproval. "Mm, mm, mm..."

"We know, we know, we're sorry." You apologized, sliding past the girl and into the shack where the others were waiting - Sarah, John B, Cleo, and Pope all spread out on the couch. "We got...held up." You giggled, looking back at your boyfriend who was following behind you.

"..Are you drunk?" John B chuckled, bucket of popcorn sat across Sarah's thighs, who had her legs laid out on top of his.

You plopped down against the couch, head upside down as you clutched the pile of DVD's against your chest. "We may have... pre-gamed, a little." You admitted, words slurring slightly.

"Pre-gamed a little? Or pre-gamed a lot?" Pope asked, peering at you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Cleo, who was leaning against the armrest next to him, just shook her head and chuckled. The boy turned the phone that was in his hand around to show his screen to all of you in the room.

On it was JJ's snapchat story with a not-so-innocent picture of the blonde's hand grabbing a handful of your ass.

Your smile dropped at the sight of the picture, your expression faltering into something more sheepish. You whipped around to face JJ, who was behind you, palming his neck nervously.

"So, uh...about that-"

"JJ!"

"It was an accident!"

"How is that an accident?" You asked, pouting drunkenly as the room broke out in a chorus of muffled giggles.

JJ himself tried not to laugh as he spoke. "I'm sorry, baby." He apologized, fighting off a smile at your drunken sadness as he pulled your head into his chest, mouthing 'stop laughing' to all of your friends behind your back.

They all tried their best to quiet down, knowing you got more emotional when you were under the influence.

"It's okay. Look, no one cares, it's fine." He cooed, pulling you back and turning you by your shoulders to look at your friends who all shot you smiles. JJ draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. "I'll take it down, okay?" He said, pecking your cheek and pulling his phone out to delete the picture. Once it was gone, he looked back at your group of friends as he led you to sit down with him. "Alright, what'd we miss?"

Kiara rolled her eyes dramatically. "Nothing considering we were waiting on you two to show up with the movies we were supposed to be watching an hour ago."

"Details, details," JJ waved his hand dismissively. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, a possessive gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the others. "Worth it though, right?" he murmured, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You giggled again, mood much brighter, burying your face in the pile of DVDs. "Totally worth it," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks go warm.

Sarah reached over and playfully nudged your leg with her foot. "Yeah, we kinda figured," she said, a knowing smile on her face.

John B just chuckled again, shaking his head. "Alright, enough with the PDA. Let's just pick a damn movie before it gets any later." He gestured towards the stack of DVDs in your arms. "Whatcha got?"

You held up a few of the cases. "'The Goonies,' 'Step Up,' or 'The Notebook'?"

A chorus of opinions erupted from the couch. As the debate raged on, JJ squeezed your shoulders. "Don't worry about 'em," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "We had way more fun than they did anyway." He punctuated his words with a quick kiss to your temple, making you giggle once more. Even though you were late,the "pre-game" had definitely been worth it.

JJ Maybank Taglist in replies!

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hewaaa!! Is your OC related to Director Crowley, The Maleficent crow or something? I saw your design and I found it really interesting 🩵🖤

While Miss Raven and Crowley share many visual similarities + she considers him her legal guardian and family, they’re not actually blood-related! She just showed up at NRC’s doorstep own day and Crowley took her under his wing as his “niece”. In truth, Crowley became acquaintances with Raven’s previous caretaker during his travels. That person—the “Storyteller”—knew that he would soon pass away, so he asked Crowley to please look after his ward for him.

One thing I love about Twst is how even if the inspiration for a character seems obvious at a glance (like Ace is obviously twisted from the Ace of Hearts card soldier), they can embody the traits of other characters (for example, Ace acts like Alice in that he constantly defies the Queen of Hearts). Miss Raven is technically twisted from an Alice in Wonderland riddle that was intended to have no answer... but I wanted my OC to also draw from multiple sources so that they also feel “real” and like they “fit in” the world of Twst.

(By the way!! There’s an excellent post on the Twst subreddit that discussed how Crowley is inspired by various iconic Disney birds. I’d recommend giving it a read; it’s fascinating!)

I integrated aspects of Diablo and the Evil Queen’s ravens in Miss Raven’s relationships with the equivalent Twst characters, Malleus and Vil. Diablo is Maleficent’s only competent minion, performing a number of important tasks on her behalf. Raven and Malleus aren’t familiar with one another, but she does play a key role in that she delivers the notes from the dorm leader meetings he misses. Malleus believes that she is brave to approach him (does this make them friends???), so he had assumed a strange self-proclaimed “mentor” role. He sometimes flags her down and attempts to socialize (key word: attempts) but more often than not he ends up hovering like a sleep paralysis demon… Rave has to wonder if Malleus-senpai is in need of something.

The Evil Queen’s ravens is only on screen for like… what, a minute?? And mostly just acts shocked and scared of her transformation potion brewing. This is paralleled in how Raven is intimidated by Vil’s aura, but does manage to get over it eventually to ask him for advice on how to become a “proper lady” herself. He’s the one that taught her a lot about social etiquette and manners in general.

There’s also other Disney and non-Disney references I’ve included in her lore. The backstory of Miss Raven’s guardian (pre-Crowley) is very similar to that of Beast from Beauty and the Beast… She is pessimistic at times, claiming some prospects are impossible or “nevermore” (Edgar Allen Poe)… She lacks confidence, believing she is an “ugly duckling” and wishes to become an elegant and beautiful swan… Tons more; I can’t list them all here!

In a nutshell, yes. There’s a lot more to it than just borrowing the phrase because I happen to like AiW though!

The riddle “why is a raven like a writing desk” comes from the tea party scene in the original Lewis Carroll novel, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Disney translated it over to their animated film, but the riddle makes appearances or is referenced in many other AiW adaptations.

According to Carroll, the riddle was meant to be nonsensical and have no answer. (In the book, the Mad Hatter himself admits, “I haven't the slightest idea,” and then Alice asks about why they are wasting their time with riddles that have no answer.) However, many people have come up with their own absurd answers to the supposedly unanswerable riddle, including: “Poe wrote on both”, “they both stand on sticks”, “they both come with inky quill”, and “because there is a B in both and an N in neither”. Ironically, Carroll was pressured into including an answer in a later edition of his book. His response was, “because it can produce a few notes, tho they are very flat; and it is never put with the wrong end in front!” In the original version of this preface, “never” was spelled “nevar” (“raven” backwards).

I liked the open-endedness of the question. It keeps the door open to allow for many possibilities and encourages us to explore, to indulge in our curiosity, to experiment and let our unique perspectives shape unique replies to the same riddle. I wanted to run a blog with that kind of a creative spirit. The fact that both writing and ravens are mentioned are serendipity, but it ends up working out really well for what I do here.

My Twst OC, Raven Crowley, is also closely associated with “why is a raven like a writing desk?”. In fact, she’s twisted from the raven in the riddle, and this ties in with her backstory. Because the riddle is just… that, a riddle (and not an actual flesh-and-blood character that does things in the story) with no answer (aimless, open, without direction), Miss Raven’s character reflects that. She is a curious girl always seeking out new experiences. but she lacks self-confidence, believing that she isn’t a “main” character, just a supporting role or even a background character. Her story is that of finding her own strength, learning to become confident in her own identity, and taking charge of her own destiny—even if she’s unsure of where the winding oath may take her.

It’s all connected! ^^

[megumisluciouslashes]

HOME a jason todd oneshot

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of beating, one slight mention of sa, angst, comfort, young jason todd my baby, jason has dimples this is canon idc, no y/n

wc: 2.9k • this is not proofread at all so pls don’t come for me i’m a tired girl💔 also this is lowkey bad🤑

back in your high school days, jason todd was the only person who got you through your freshman year of high school.

after making it through two classes and seeing the same boy in each one on the first day, you decided to talk to him. your mother had practically begged you to make at least one friend in your new school (“c’mon, it would do you some good!”), so what was the harm?

after chatting for some time, you realized you two had coincidentally had the same class schedule, pushing you to get close.

you would soon know everything there is to know about jason todd: his past, having a rich dad and a “stuck-up” brother (even though you thought dick was great), only liking food his butler made for him, how he would only eat cheetos as long as there was ketchup he could dip them into, eventually coming to the realization that he was robin. and he would know everything about you.

on one fateful day a few months later, when you were over at jason’s house mansion to finish a project you had been assigned for biology, you were goofing off and not working at all. you were both laughing about something you couldn’t even remember at this point when you found yourself staring at him. the way his nose scrunched when he smiled, the way his dimples were even deeper when he laughed, the way he seemed so full of joy in that moment. you took all of it in and admired every bit of it.

‘holy shit i’m in love with him’ you thought.

this thought truly scared you, but the feeling quickly vanished when you were suddenly catapulted into fantasies of kissing those dimples and his oh-so-beautiful smile gracing you as you did so. god, your face was probably so red, but you couldn’t help it. he was jason. he was everything you wanted and more and you hadn’t realized it until this moment. sure, you might’ve caught yourself staring at him in the middle of class and blushed watching as his eyes flitted over to you, but this revelation? this was something else.

you were helplessly in love with him.

a year after the thought occurred, the issue had seemingly gotten worse. you could barely be around him without flushing. he was funny and charismatic, and you loved every bit of it.

but were you ever going to ask him out?

god, no.

you didn’t want to ruin this perfect friendship you had; one where you truly understood each other, one where you cared so deeply about each other, one where you could sit in silence and still enjoy each other’s company. this was a friendship you had never had before.

you didn’t know what would happen if you were to lose jason.

so you kept it to yourself, plagued with the fears that come with falling in love with your best friend.

jason often shared his robin adventures with you after you found out. so, it would come as no surprise when he had told you that he had a mission tonight with the big bat during your walk home after school on a random friday.

“aww, but i thought i was supposed to come over later!” you groaned.

he chuckled, “don’t worry pretty, you can come over tomorrow. i’m sure b won’t mind.”

you nodded along and blushed at him calling you pretty. you didn’t know why the nickname suddenly made you react this why as he’s always called you it.

you two continued the walk towards your house, often stopping when he would almost puke from laughing so hard and you giggling about how stupid he is.

soon enough, you made it to your house, and you felt a pang of sadness when you realized that you wouldn’t be able to see him until tomorrow.

“well, this is my stop,” you sighed dramatically.

he chuckled, “alright pretty, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

something in you felt off when he turned around and started to walk.

“jay!” you didn’t know why you called his name.

he halfway turned around, just to see you rushing towards him. you didn’t know why you ran to him.

suddenly, you pulled jason into the biggest bear hug known to man. you didn’t know why you felt compelled to give him the biggest hug you could muster.

he tensed for a split second, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. you simply melted into his touch. you felt every hair on the back of your neck stand up. you felt scared. and you had no clue why.

“uh- what’s this for pretty?” jason asked, once you pulled away slightly.

“i don’t know, i’m uh- kinda on edge,” you smiled a wobbly smile.

“well, i’m sure it’s nothing. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

you nod and watch as he starts to walk a second time, though every step he takes adds fuel to the haunting feeling in your belly. you smiled and told yourself that everything is fine, nothing is going to happen, and walked into the door of your house.

you had a good night; a great night, even. you had decided to pamper yourself hoping the feeling gnawing at you would go away. you had put on a face mask and watched your favorite nineties romcoms, imagining jason as the part of the male in them. every time you made yourself giddy with the idea, popcorn would go flying in the air. (chicken jockey)

however, the feeling persisted all throughout the night and would continue on into the next morning.

you slept horribly that night with no clue as to why. you woke up the next morning somehow feeling worse. but, you decided that that feeling wasn’t stopping you. you were going to get up, have breakfast like normal, and have a good time with jason when the time came.

you were halfway through eating your breakfast when there was a knock at the door.

“i’ll get it!” you called to your parents.

when you hopped off of your chair, the feeling of dread suddenly washed over you. you wished you had any way of knowing why these feelings were haunting you, but pushed it aside and opened the door.

“oh, hey mr. wayne-!” you suddenly cut yourself off when you noticed the somber look on the man’s face. he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

“uh…are you alright sir?” you started to get nervous.

his lips opened as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. the nervous smile you held was growing even more wobbly by the second.

he spoke your name, “i am so sorry.”

tears built up in the older man’s eyes as he bowed his head towards the ground. your smile completely faded. you were suddenly filled with “what-ifs” and mentally questioning why he was acting like this. then, it hit you.

did something happen to jason?

your eyes widened and you spoke before you could realize, “wait, what happened? what are you sorry for?”

you were panicking, bruce realized. it dug him even deeper into the hole of guilt.

“jason- he- he’s gone.” his voice broke on the last word.

your face fully dropped.

your eyes widened further.

tears blurred your vision.

then, you laughed. bruce winced.

“you almost had me fooled haha! what a great joker you are!”

but when you looked into bruce’s eyes, there was only more despair than you had seen seconds before.

suddenly, you were hyperventilating. you then started letting out guttural sobs. bruce’s eyes were letting tears slip as well. your parents, alert, came rushing to the door and froze at the sight. you were on the ground, wailing and begging somebody, anybody to bring jason back to you.

“Here Lies Jason Peter Todd: Taken Too Soon” the headstone read.

everything still felt unreal to you even after bruce told you, even the days after, even after the funeral, even after his burial, even as you stood there in the rain. you still couldn’t comprehend that your jay was just gone. taken, by a man who had no heart and no humor. by a man whose only joke was his whole life.

the crowd had long since left. your parents left you to your own devices upon your request. you felt bad for making them wait in the car, but you needed this. you needed this moment to finally come to the realization that he was gone and never coming back. even if it hurt, even if you didn’t want to come to terms with it. you had to. for jay.

you then heard slashing footsteps walk up next to you. you didn’t need look, you could already tell who it was. his car was the only one left in the parking lot besides your parents. you had seen him fighting an inner battle of getting out and coming to comfort you. it didn’t surprise you that he ultimately decided to step out. he always liked you, you thought. he was always the big brother type, even to somebody who wasn’t actually his sibling.

after a few moments of silence, “jay loved you, you know,” dick laughed, bittersweet.

your head snapped towards his, tears suddenly gathering in your eyes after you thought you couldn’t cry anymore.

“what?”

he never looked at you, just kept staring at the headstone, “he didn’t like talking about his feelings. often times, i had to pry it out of him. i could read him like an open book.”

he paused for a second to laugh dryly.

“there was one day, about a year ago, when your parents had come to pick you up from the manor after we had family dinner. the moment you closed the door, the biggest and softest smile went on his face. his face was completely red and his eyes- well, the eyes never lie. i bugged him about it for months before he finally told me. even though i knew, my big brother heart grew ten times the size when he told me. my little brother was in love.”

tears now flowed down your cheeks, “i love him too…well, loved i guess,” you said quietly and laughed with no humor.

dick didn’t say anything more, just continued to look at the tombstone with a far away look in his eyes. you glanced towards it to, before wordlessly reaching out and pulling dick into a hug.

“thank you, dick,” you stated genuinely.

“you’re always welcome at the manor, so please stop by.”

you nod and let go, giving him the most genuine smile you could muster, before walking towards your parents car.

it never got easier to live without jason. he was everything to you: your only best friend and the love of your life. high school passed by in the blink of an eye and slowly all the same. you awaited the moment you could graduate, get your diploma, move into your own apartment, and then get your college diploma.

bruce has long since given you a job as his secretary. you knew he mainly offered you the job because of guilt reasons, but you still accepted it nonetheless.

you still visited jason’s grave often, sharing stories about new events that have happened since you last visited. on his birthday, you leave him a cupcake with red icing and a cheeto on top. it sounds disgusting, but you know he’ll never eat it. you thought it was pretty on brand and cheesy, something you liked to be when it came to jason. then, you would leave at the end of your visit with a bright smile on your face. but not before blowing an air kiss to him.

unbeknownst to you, jason was there almost every time watching you. he would even eat the cupcakes you leave him (cheetos are not very good on cupcakes). though, he didn’t think he could ever tell you that he was alive and living under a different alias.

one calm night, you had decided to walk home from work, seeing as it was perfect weather. gotham was never known for its beauty, so on rare nights like these, you found yourself willing to walk the trek home, even in heels.

what you didn’t expect was to get hit on the back of the head and dragged into an alley way by two random men. they proceeded to try and have their way with you. yet, every time you tried to say “no”, they punched you harder than the last. you knew that if you tried to scream, you would just get beaten even worse. the stupidest yet semi-smartest part of you decided to try anyways.

“HELP-!” you managed, before one of the men slapped their hand over your mouth.

“oh no, don’t try and get us caught little lamb…you won’t like the consequences,” he snickered, his breath reeked of alcohol.

your nose scrunched in disgust at the smell and the name he had called you. oh, how badly you wanted to slap that nasty smirk of his face and slap the shit out of the other guy who was practically pinning you.

without warning, the guy who was holding you down was pulled harshly off of you. you then took it upon yourself to punch the other guy directly in the nose, causing him to jump up and grab it in pain. you were helped up by- a man? a woman? you didn’t know, but whoever it was, they were wearing a strange red helmet. you found yourself staring with a quirked brow.

you were soon broke out of your state when you heard a battle cry, causing you to wince at the loud sound. oh yeah, your head was hurting bad. the red-helmet-person whipped out a gun and shot at his feet the second he started running towards your direction. the man froze, threw his hands up and started begging the red-helmet-person for mercy. they simply held up their gun, aiming to shoot, then-

“wait! don’t shoot!” you yelled to the red-helmet-person.

“what? why?” a muffled, male voice poured out of the helmet.

“they deserve jail at most! killing them will do more harm than good!”

the red-helmet-man sighed, and dropped his gun. he walked up to the guy, knocked him out, then proceeded to knock the other guy out. the red-helmet-man assessed the scene before his thoughts were stopped by a thud.

you had fallen to the ground, presumably by the potential concussion you had and the beating you had been through. however, something else caused it. that voice was so familiar to you, even though it was muffled.

he ran over, “hey, are you alright?”

“i’ve certainly been better,” you snickered, watching as he dropped down beside you.

he stared at you for long before asking to touch you to get a better feel for your injuries. once you nodded, he got to feeling the already purpling parts of your body. for some reason, this was incredibly embarrassing and you found yourself flushing.

“it doesn’t look like-“

“do i know you?”

the man froze.

you continued on, “your voice just seems so familiar is all. i can���t help but feel like i’ve heard it before.”

“uh- i’m not sure what you’re talking about-“

“there it is again! a certain tone of voice i’ve heard before.”

he cleared his throat, “it looks like you may actually have a concussion then. as i was saying, it doesn’t look like anything is broken, just bruised.”

you simply stared at the red helmet trying to will the man into telling you who he is. after getting no response from you, he spoke again.

“i can take you to the hospital to get checked out- er- if you want.”

you blinked, “no thank you, i’ll be fine. just help me up, please.”

the red-helmet-man helped you up before tending to the knocked-out men. you stood there awkwardly.

“um…thank you for saving me. have a good night red-helmet-man,” you smiled, grateful.

the man replied, “Red Hood. no problem pretty, have a good night.”

both you and the man froze.

you stared, gaping at the man in front of you. you willed yourself to walk forward. you placed your hands on the helmet and signified that you were going to take it off. no response. so you slid it off. you could’ve fainted.

because the face that met you was a familiar one and a new one at the same time. the same dark hair, now paired with a white tuft, scars littering a once soft face, and bluish-green eyes instead of the blue eyes you had fallen in love with. still, it was him.

it was jason.

your jay.

the helmet slip from your grasp as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. your hands met your face in shock.

“this has got to be a dream of some sort, right? you’re not actually here and i’m totally dreaming this whole interaction right now.”

“i’m real. and i’m here.”

his eyes found yours. in that moment, you sobbed. you threw your arms around his neck and cried hopelessly into his chest. he held you against him, crushing you into his chest. you felt his breath hitch and his shoulders shook softly.

“my jay. my sweet sweet jay,” you muttered into his chest.

his hands reached up to cradle your head, making him cry harder than before.

“god pretty, i’ve missed you…” he whispered.

you sniffled and pulled away, looking into his eyes. you slowly lifted your hands to meet his face. once you did, you took in every feature now hardened by death and fighting. more tears spilled from your eyes.

then, you crashed your lips against his.

jason todd hadn’t felt at peace in a long time, but with you like this, so serene, he felt like he was home.

erm so why is this actually bad LMAO anyways i have had jason todd brainrot for the past MONTH and i have another fic idea for him so be ready 💜

[sarahroutldge]

a night out

a/n: hey y'all! this is my first rafe fic - just had a random idea and decided to go with it

pairing: rafe cameron x reader (established relationship)

summary: you convince your boyfriend rafe to take you to the boneyard for the night.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff/humor, marijuana use, drinking, mention of drugs, mention of kinks but nothing explicitly sexual takes place, idk this is mainly just a fluff slice of life piece

“C’mon, Rafe, please… it’ll be fun,” you beg, hoping that he’ll get the stick out of his ass for at least one night. “We haven’t been to the boneyard in forever…”

He just rolls his eyes as he continues to scroll through his texts with Kelce and Topper. With his head against his headboard and his legs stretched out on the bed, you’re trying your best to convince your boyfriend to make a rare appearance with you at a not-Kooks-only party. “You were there last week,” he says, finally shutting his phone off and tossing it onto the bed.

Making eye contact with you, his lovable but sometimes annoying girlfriend, Rafe stares into your eyes, quietly wondering what it’ll take to get out of tonight’s event. But he can tell from the determination in your face that you’re being more pushy than usual. And hey, Rafe Cameron can be a nice boyfriend, contrary to what others may choose to believe. But he wants to see just how far you’ll take this.

Now in a staring competition, you take a breath in, and he feels the ghost of a smirk on his lips, knowing you’re about to promise something else. Grunting in a way he finds absolutely adorable, you mumble, “If you go with me to the boneyard tonight, I’ll come with you to your tee time tomorrow.” 

Not quite wanting you to see that you’ve won yet, he eggs you on, knowing that he’s already accepted your terms. “You know that we’re playing the full course tomorrow, right? Not just the front nine holes?”

“Ugh, yes, I’m aware.”

“And you know that our tee time is at 6:45 AM?”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the past thirty minutes of trying to convince him to accompany you to the boneyard. “Sadly, yes.”

Rafe tilts his head from side to side and waits a whole minute before surrendering. “Fine.”

You stick your legs out from under you and jump to your knees, doing a quick hop before messily kissing Rafe on the cheek. He wipes it off, pretending to be grossed out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeat, before grabbing your phone and texting your friends that you’ll see them later tonight. 

Waiting a few seconds, he says with a smirk, “You know I probably would’ve caved eventually, right?”

Without looking up from your phone, you sigh. “Don’t tell me that or else I’m making you come to Sarah’s pregame, too.”

After meeting Sarah, John B., and the rest of your friends at the Chateau, you make your way to the boneyard. With a few shots and an overly-sweet hard seltzer already in your system, you’re buzzed, excited by the fact that Rafe has actually agreed to meet you later. While you know that he used to come to these more often, ever since they’ve become what he describes as “Pogue-infested orgies,” he’s stayed away, perfectly fine with his Kook-only parties on Figure Eight. But every once in a while, he makes his way to the boneyard because he knows that you, his social butterfly of a girlfriend, loves a rare occasion where all the people you adore are gathered in one place (with the promise of no fights—at least not between Rafe and her friends). 

Rafe wasn’t so approving of you being a kook-turned-pogue just like Sarah and her friend Kiara, but over time he got used to it. He’d matured in the past year or so, dropping cocaine and becoming less of a disappointment to Ward. And though you want to believe he did it for himself, Rafe knows wholeheartedly that he wouldn’t be where he is now if you hadn’t believed that he could do it first. So with that in mind, he’s waiting at the boneyard, chatting with Topper and Kelce, sipping on an overpriced beer that he brought from home. 

When he hears the noise of laughter over the cheap speakers increase, he rolls his eyes, immediately recognizing the presence of his sister’s loud boyfriend and his somehow even louder friend JJ. A small grin sneaks onto his face, though, knowing that means you can’t be far behind. 

It’s only when Topper starts annoyingly tapping him that he realizes he’s checked entirely out of the conversation with his friends just so he could find her. He shoves him off playfully, asking “What?” even though he’s sure the conversation is simply not worth his time. 

“I’m trying to tell Kelce here that if he actually respected himself he’d be applying to transfer to UNC. Dude, Clemson is below you.”

Kelce shakes his head, knowing that Topper isn’t wrong but not wanting him to win the argument so quickly. “I’m not not considering it, Top. I’m just saying that it’s not the only school I might apply to–”

“If you say you’re applying to Duke, I might actually hit you,” Topper interrupts, mostly jokingly but with a seriousness that makes Rafe chuckle.

Distracted again by this useless conversation, Rafe jumps a bit when he feels pressure around his midsection, before he recognizes the voice of the woman behind him. “Kelce, don’t listen to them,” you say, clearly tipsy as you squeeze Rafe’s stomach, leaning your head into his back.

Rafe chuckles. “C’mon, Y/N, you know I never do,” Kelce responds, and you make your way in front of Rafe. Leaning against his front now, Rafe encircles your stomach with his left hand, kissing the side of your head in greeting as his right hand continues to hold his beer. 

“Good boy,” you taunt, patting Kelce’s head. Though he knows there’s nothing to worry about, Rafe rolls his eyes. 

You hold the hand on your stomach, squeezing it so that he knows for sure your comment was in jest. You smile, and Rafe looks down at you, the smile on your face never failing to soothe him. You reach for his beer, and he passes it to you, before letting go and sitting down on the log behind him. Kelce and Topper sit down on the sand in front of the fire, but you make no move to join them. Rafe pats the space on the log next to him, but you just shake your head. 

Trying not to whine in front of his friends who would make fun of him endlessly for it, Rafe’s eyebrows bend in confusion, and you take one last sip of his beer before handing it back to him. “JJ’s rolling joints,” you explain, and Rafe nods his head. “Wanna join?” you ask, though she already knows the answer.

Rafe scrunches his nose, and you giggle at the action. You lean down and press a small kiss to his nose, before skipping off to the rest of your friends, very obviously tipsy as you fail to walk in a straight line.

Rafe won’t deny that he’s smoked in the past—and certainly found it relaxing—but after quitting cocaine and experimenting with a few other drugs, he doesn’t really partake. Not only would he refuse to ever smoke a joint rolled by JJ Maybank of all people, but he no longer craves the haze. It makes him anxious, and he loathes the loss of control. Even if he does get wasted on occasion, he never drinks too much when he knows you are at the same party, letting yourself have fun. And he finds that he doesn’t mind it; he enjoys being an extra pair of eyes and ears for you, and even more than that—though he won’t outright say it—he enjoys being the one who gets to take care of you, 

Within thirty minutes, you are baked. You’ve abandoned the alcohol—the beer from the keg is just as nasty as Rafe always warns you it’ll be—and you’re giggling happily with Kiara and Sarah in the sand. Pope, JJ, and John B. are off doing god-knows-what, but you can’t even be bothered to think about them. Laying down on the towel Kiara brought, the three of you are high as kites.

And you can’t be entirely sure how you arrived at the current conversation about pet names, but you don't particularly care.

“I hateeeeee it when JJ calls me ‘baby,’ and I’ve told him that,” Kiara explains, covering her face with her hands. And it’s not that funny, but in your high state, you let out a cackle. “It’s like… dude… I’m not your baby.”

“You call your boyfriend dude?” Sarah asks through her chuckles. 

“Nooooo, it was just an example. But it’s like, if you want to call me something, just call me my name, you know?”

“Okay, but like, does he not call you anything else, when you’re… you know?” you ask, and you’re not sure why she’s acting so shy about it when the three of you talk about sex on a regular basis (it’s probably—no, definitely—the weed).

“Look, my name is Kiara. He calls me Kie, sometimes. But anything else? It’s cringey as hell,” she explains. “Why? Is that weird?”

Sarah turns her head. “Well I wouldn’t say it’s weird, but—”

“Sarah!” you interject.

“What?”

When no one says anything else, you all burst out in laughter again. “Okay, so what does John B. call you when you two… you know?”

Sarah blushes, though you can hardly tell in the darkness. And before you can think twice, the words are out of your mouth. “Oh my god, does John B. have a mommy kink?”

Kiara shrieks and Sarah playfully slaps your shoulder before another round of laughter overtakes the group. “You’re not denying it,” Kie adds, just making you laugh even harder. 

“I mean, hey, we’ve all been there,” you say, though you’re not really sure you believe your own words. 

Kiara turns to you. “Well what does Rafe say when—”

“Ew, Kie, that’s my brother!” Sarah interjects, as she pretends to retch. 

“Then cover your ears, girl!” 

As if she’s a child, Sarah playfully covers her ears. 

Thinking you’re whispering, you answer. “Well, he’s not really big on pet names. Because, you know, it’s Rafe. Sometimes I call him Mr. Grumpy.”

“You call him Mr. Grumpy during sex?!” Kiara asks, and Sarah just groans because apparently she didn’t cover her ears as effectively as she wanted to.

“No, no, no,” you deny, cackling in between your objections. “Not during sex, but like, I don’t know, sometimes he calls me babe.”

Kiara just squints at you. “C’mon, Rafe’s definitely freakier than that.”

“Kiara, I love you, and I know we’re all high as hell, but I refuse to scar Sarah for the rest of her life.” 

“Thank you!” Sarah shouts, before standing up and then laying herself on top of you. “You’re the bestest friend in the world!”

You groan at the added weight, but your annoyance quickly turns into laughter.

Elsewhere, deciding he’s bored and too sober for a conversation this mind-numbing with Topper and Kelce, he gets up from his spot on the log. Leaving his empty beer with the two idiots who are somehow his best friends, Rafe makes his way over to the other side of the beach. He looks around amongst the random splintered groups of Pogues and Kooks and Tourons alike, searching for you. Before he can find you, though, he feels a shove. 

Turning around, his anger at the shove quickly turns into annoyance, when he sees that JJ Maybank of all people is interrupting him. Deciding that JJ can be useful at points, he asks, “JJ, have you seen my girlfriend?”

When JJ takes a second to formulate his words, Rafe can tell that he’s absolutely hammered and that he’ll get no help from the blonde in front of him. “Uh, yeah, I’ve seen her. I think.”

When he doesn’t elaborate further, Rafe continues. “Let me make this easier for you: have you seen her in the last ten minutes?”

Taking a second to think, JJ pats Rafe’s chest with both of his hands, before Rafe shoves him off. “Yeah, she was with Sarah and Kiara, I think,” he answers. 

Rafe nods his head in thanks before turning around to resume his mission, but JJ jumps in front of him, blocking his way. “Hey, dude, do you think that Y/N would ever agree to be our third?”

And Rafe does everything he can to prevent his hands from curling into fists. “No, JJ, I don’t.”

“Woahhhh, man, it was just a question. And, like, me and Kiara have talked about this–”

Before JJ can get into further detail, Rafe lets out an “oof,” when a body collides into his back. 

“Babyyyyyy…” you say, and the tension in his body starts to diffuse. Slowly, you turn around to face him, and JJ’s drunk rants are suddenly not worth listening to. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you smile up at him, eyes red and sleepy from the weed. “I think I love you…”

“You think you love me?” Rafe asks, amused at your state. 

“Well, I think I love you, do you love me?”

“I think me being at this party for you answers that question, babe,” he responds, and you giggle, squeezing him. Rafe leans down to briefly kiss your forehead, before bringing his hands up to your face. Looking right into your eyes, he’s reminded of how much he loves the absolutely baked woman before him. “You are high as hell,” he says.

Giggling into his chest, you don’t argue, sighing in contentment at the way he squeezes you. “‘M sleepy,” you mumble, and Rafe nods his head. 

“Let’s head home,” Rafe suggests. 

“Nooooo, let me sleep here,” you argue, shifting most of your weight onto his chest.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, babe. You’ll be much happier in an actual bed.”

You can’t find it in you to disagree, instead just humming and mumbling a “fine,” that he can barely make out.

“Am I taking anyone else home?” Rafe asks. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Dunno, but she said she’s staying with John B. tonight. She said he’s a teddy bear.” Rafe winces, not needing that mental image of his sister and her boyfriend. “But I said you’re a teddy bear, too.”

Rafe blushes, and he’s glad the crowd around him has dissipated and the beach is too dark for anyone to notice. “Babe, you’re gonna ruin my reputation if you tell people that.”

“I don’t care about your reputa–” you say, not having enough energy to even finish the word.

“Yeah, it’s officially time for us to go home,” he says, watching as you practically fall asleep against him. 

Briiiiiiiiiiiing. Briiiiiiiing. Briiinng.

You groan at the blaring, obnoxious noise, not moving your head from the pillow. “Five more minutes,” you say.

“You already slept through the first alarm, babe,” Rafe says, far too chipper for 6:00 AM. When your eyes move around the room, you notice that Rafe’s already dressed, ready for the golf course. “I even laid out your clothes for you, so all you have to do is brush your teeth and put them on.”

“That’s still so much work,” you say, twisting your face slightly, your brain slowly waking up. Finally lifting your head up, you yawn, and then rub your eyes. “I’m such a good girlfriend,” you say, and Rafe chuckles. 

“Hey, it was your suggestion,” he reminds her.

“I hate you,” you bite back, before swinging your legs out of bed, and stretching your arms above her head. Rafe stares as the hem of your sleep shirt rises with your arms, before shaking his head to not get distracted.

“No, you don’t,” Rafe rebuts, watching as you walk to the bathroom in an almost zombie-like manner.

“Ugh, I hate that you’re right,” you fight back, before shutting the bathroom door behind you, as Rafe laughs. “Stop laughing at my pain,” you add, and he shakes his head.

“If you’re ready in the next five minutes, we can get coffee first,” Rafe shouts.

“Have I ever told you you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

so... please lmk what you think (send an ask, comment, reblog, etc.). I'm a bit nervous about this one because rafe's characterization is... hard to get at points lol. but I feel like this rafe is at least somewhat similar to how he is on the show (like if rafe had a fluffy side idk). anyways hope you enjoyed, and requests are always open <3

[izels-writing]

j. potter — how forever feels! [4/?]

Pairing: james potter x hopeless romantic!fem!reader

Summary: the stars have aligned and you and james’ futures have intertwined.

Warnings: fake dating!!!, backstory specific reader, mentions of DV!! (TW), mentions of violence, mentions of alcohol addiction, james potter is a sweetheart!! (Let me know if i miss anything!)

PART ONE — PART TWO — PART THREE — PART FOUR

a/n; i lowkey forgot abt the series until a few days ago 😓 but im graduating soon so i have an excuse!!

TAGLIST: @hisparentsgallerryy @ilovejamespottersomuch @eli-com @froggiedragon @butterflygxril @d1lf-loverrr

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

the train ride from hogwarts was fun, but nerve wracking. you were afraid of meeting james' parents, even with everyone assuring you they were the sweetest people on the planet. what if they didn't like you? what if you intruded on their family time?

you bounced your leg anxiously as you flipped through the daily prophet, not actually reading anything. james, ever the observant boyfriend, put his hand on your thigh to stop it. he broke away from his conversation with remus, peter, sirius and b/f/n—who had taken to becoming friends with you all as well.

"you alright?" he whispered, squeezing your thigh gently. it almost grounded you.

you nodded. "yeah, yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"well, you're vibrating," he pointed out.

you sighed, putting the newspaper down in your lap. "i'm utterly terrified, like i could throw up right now if i had had breakfast,"

"what're you nervous for?" james chuckled, turning to look directly at you. it was one of the many things you liked about him, whenever you spoke to him, he gave you his full attention.

you bit your lip. "well, i just thought we'd keep our parents out of this whole situation—i mean, what if your parents don't like me?" you asked quietly, low enough so that b/f/n, sirius, remus, and peter didn't hear you guys as they carried on their own conversation.

james gave a thoughtful look and smiled softly at you. "they're going to love you, if i like you, they'll love you too. as for the whole parents thing, i don't have to meet yours—i'd like to, but i won't force you,"

you frowned slightly and nodded. you didn't want james to meet them, not because of him—he was perfect and respectful—but because of them. you had a lot of issues at home, issues you didn't need anyone but b/f/n to know about. "yeah, it's probably best you don't meet them. but are you sure? you're sure they said it was alright for you to bring me around?"

james tried to not appear hurt that you didn't want your parents to meet him. and if your face was anything to go by, you hadn't realized it. instead he forced a smile.

"they were ecstatic to have you over," james assured, squeezing your thigh once more. you felt a jolt of heat through your body from his warm hand but said nothing.

"okay, okay," you let out a breath. "i'm good, i'm okay,"

he smiled at you, in that soft, comforting and gentle way he always did. he wrapped his arm around your waist and quickly returned to the conversation between your friends, ignoring the stinging in his heart at your rejection of him meeting your parents.

——

as you, remus, sirius, and james got out of the taxi—your heart was thrumming loudly in your chest. you went to grab your stuff to carry it inside, but james beat you to it, shouldering both your and his luggage gracefully.

"i can carry my own things, james," you chuckled nervously. you certainly didn't want his parents to think you demanded he do these things for you.

"yeah, no, my dad always says that a lady can carry her own things but it doesn't mean she should," james recited, doing an awful impression of his father. you, caught off-guard, laughed.

"well, ladies and remus," james added with a grin, satisfied that he'd made you laugh. he nodded over where sirius was carrying his and remus' luggage.

you rolled your eyes playfully as the four of you walked up to the front of the house. potter manor was huge, littered with windows all around the outside and gave a huge wooden fence to wrap around the backyard. from one window, you could see the library. a built-in library!

james and sirius walked up first, james opening the door with his key. he finally pushed the door open, all four of them stepping inside.

"we're home!" he yelled out to no one in particular. as you stepped inside, you could smell sugar-cookies being baked.

"oh! monty! they're here!" a beautiful voice exclaimed, walking quickly out of the kitchen. you four were met with a tall, tan woman with dark hair and hazel eyes. she smiled widely—and she almost looked like james when she did.

"mum!" james grinned, throwing his arms around his mom. remus and sirius went next, hugging her tightly. you stayed back, smiling at the display of affection they showed her. as they pulled away, her eyes landed on you and you chuckled.

"hello," you smiled softly.

"mum, this is y/n—my girlfriend," james smiled, putting his hand on the small of your back as he introduced you to his mother.

you stuck your hand out to shake it, but she shook her head. "oh, you're even more beautiful than the picture sirius sent me of you two! come here!" she smiled widely, bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug. you chuckled and hugged her back gently, feeling a sense of relief.

she pulled back. "fleamont potter! get over here now!" she yelled out. you all flinched at the woman's stern voice, but you were even more surprised when she turned back to you with a gentle smile.

"excuse my husband, he starts working in his study and it takes a village to bring him out," she chuckled.

"it does not!" a manly, kind voice called back. your eyes widened as you looked at james' father. he was the exact replica of james.

he was hot.

"boys!" he grinned, pulling all three of them into a hug. remus blushed, though not entirely noticeable as the attractive older man pulled him into a hug. you smirked subtly, hiding it as you pretended to wipe your  nose. remus glared at you playfully.

"dad, this is my girlfriend, y/n," james introduced, smiling between you and his father.

"it's nice to meet you," you smiled, shaking his hand.

"merlin's beard, mia's right! you are even more beautiful in person!" he chuckled, shaking your hand kindly.

you felt your cheeks flush a deep pink and this time it was remus' turn to laugh subtly at you. "thank you, sir. thank you both for allowing me to join you this holiday," you smiled.

"of course! we've been dying to meet you!" james' mother exclaimed happily. "now why don't you get settled into james' room while i finish baking these cookies?"

james looked at his mother. "don't you need any help, mum?" he asked politely. ever the gentleman he was.

"no, no! show y/n around! i'm almost done anyway, besides you are disastrous in a kitchen," she joked. she moved you all up the stairs, pushing you toward the bedrooms. you giggled at her comment and she smiled in response.

james led you up the stairs, a hand on your hip as you walked up first. sirius and remus followed suit, exchanging knowing glances as you approached the top of the stairs.

"your house is amazing!" you gasped quietly. "it's so nice—and it has two floors!"

"thank you, mum and dad are really proud of it," james replied.

"you're very special, y/n," sirius teased. "she only makes sugar cookies when it's a special occasion,"

you smiled. "well, they smell delicious,"

sirius grabbed remus' hand, leading him to his own room. "we'll be in my bedroom, settling in, don't come looking for us!" sirius smirked, dodging remus' smack of his head.

you and james turned to each other and laughed, walking into his bedroom. you felt your heart thrum again, you'd never really been into a boys bedroom before. you marveled at the room, seeing the various trophies and quidditch posters and...snow globes?

"snow globes?" you questioned before you could stop yourself.

james blushed lightly. "uh yeah, i like collecting them. have no idea how the muggles did it!"

you chuckled. "they're cute, i like them,"

james set your stuff down by his bed as you sat down in it. you lied back and groaned softly, feeling the softness of the mattress.

"god, your bed feels like heaven," you mumbled.

james grinned. "you do not want to know what i was thinking," he laughed.

you titled your head back, getting a view of him upside down. you laughed. "clearly, i don't,"

"so, i figured i can sleep on the floor?" you asked.

james gave you an incredulous look. "why would you do that?" he asked.

"well, it's your bed, y'know...? i figured it'd be in bad taste for me to sleep in it," you explained as though it were obvious.

he shook his head. "look, if remus or sirius come in here at night and see either of us sleeping on the floor, our cover will be blown! we have to sleep together!"

you bit back a smirk. "maybe you should reword that,"

he blushed lightly. "you know what i mean! we can have a clear boundary line if you want, but we're both sleeping on this bed," james cautioned you.

"alright! alright!" you gave in, a little easier than you should've.

"lovely, now let me show you around," he smirked. "wait until you see the library,"

you jumped up. "library?!"

——

the last few days, euphemia—who made you call her such—had tried her hardest to make you feel at home. she cooked a dish you'd mentioned only once, she allowed you to help her decorate the tree, and she baked you various baked goods. by the end of the holiday, you were sure your pants wouldn't fit anymore.

meanwhile, fleamont had a more calm approach to making you feel at home. he let you read the newspaper in the morning after you were done with it, given you were the only one interested in it, and even secretly let you use his coffee-maker—despite making it off-limits to the boys.

nonetheless, both of them made you feel right at home. you couldn't even remember why you had been so nervous in the first place.

over the past few days, the heat at night had also ceased to work. the potters liked to keep it cold in the house, and give you were easily cold, you shivered yourself to sleep each night—stealing most of the cover from james, who managed to sleep shirtless.

you had borrowed his hoodie and his sweatpants to sleep and even then you were freezing. you were practically vibrating under the covers. james, who could feel you shivering beside him, had yet to fall asleep.

"are you okay?" he whispered.

"how are you not freezing?!" you whisper-yelled. he looked down at his shirtless torso and shrugged.

"just warm-blooded, i suppose," he replied quietly.

"well, i'm not! what the hell!" you replied harshly.

he frowned. "anyone ever told you that you get cranky when you're cold?" he asked teasingly.

"anyone ever told you i'm going to shove my wand up your arse if you call me cranky again?" you spat back. he laughed quietly and you felt a smile grace your face for a moment.

you did get cranky.

"come on," he said suddenly, sitting up. "let's get you some warm tea,"

you nodded quickly and sat up, hesistant to throw the duvet off of your body. but james pulled it off, despite you pulling it away from his grasp. you curled into your body. he sighed and reached over, picking you up off the bed and setting you on the floor on your feet.

"you're such a baby," he whispered.

"and you're a meanie," you whispered back.

"are you five?" he snapped back. you frowned and shoved him gently, walking with your arms wrapped around his one arm. he was warm. really, really warm.

james lead you both into the kitchen and seeing you grimace at the cold floor, he lifted you onto the counter—you taking the opportunity to hold onto his biceps as he did so. he placed you on it and slid over to the stove, pouring water into the kettle before placing it on the stove.

he got out two mugs and grabbed your favorite tea, that was conveniently stocked at his house despite the fact that he had never heard of it before you mentioned it. he placed two bags into each mug.

"thank you again," you smiled softly.

he chuckled and looked at you, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. "what for?"

"inviting me here for the holidays, making me feel at home, it was really kind of you. i didn't want to admit it, but i was afraid of spending christmas alone..." you explained, smiling lightly at him.

"of course," he grinned, shaking his head. "you don't have to thank me for that, no one should spend christmas alone. especially not my girlfriend..."

"fake girlfriend," you reminded joking even though you really hated making the distinction.

"right, fake girlfriend," he chuckled. he looked away and stared out the window.

"are you alright? i can tell something's been on your mind...what is it?" you asked gently. you studied his face, he looked conflicted and a little sad.

"it's nothing..." he replied softly. he tried his best to give you a reassuring look. but it really looked like he was a kicked puppy.

"james, come on. just tell me, i know you," you assured. "whatever it is, it's okay,"

he took a deep breath. the tea kettle began to hiss and he quickly walked over to take it off the stove, pouring the boiling water into each mug. you cursed the very specific coincidence and frowned. he handed you your cup and grabbed his own, leaning against the kitchen island across from you. there was about two feet of distance between you both.

"james..." you said.

"i know this is fake and all, and i never want to pressure you into anything, but...i just gotta ask...why don't you want me to meet your parents? you barely wanted me to meet your sibling," he blurted quietly, looking at you in the eyes.

you sighed and set the tea down beside you, leaning forward slightly to look him in the eyes. "it's not because of you, if that's what you think..."

"then what is it?" james asked quietly, placing his meg beside him as well.

you took a deep breath. "my parents are not like yours... my dad used to be a drunk, used to hit my mum, me, and my sibling. my mum for a time became a shell of a woman. but she stayed, because she loved him. because she wanted us to have a father,"

you cleared your throat, feeling a ball rise to your throat. "two years ago, he got into an accident—almost killed him and my mom," you explained. "he vowed to get sober and to his credit, he did."

"but i just can't see him as anything other than the angry man i grew up with. and he tries to fix it with me and my siblings, but the way i grew up? that's never going to change." you shook your head.

james' expression softened. "i'm sorry, i made it all about me..."

you smiled lightly and shook your head. "it's okay, you couldn't have known.."

"can i ask...?" he mumbled, losing his confidence before gaining it quickly again. "is this why? why you're scared of love?"

you swallowed thickly and nodded. "yeah, i suppose so... i never want to be stuck with a man who treats me like that because i love him..."

james shook his head. "well, thinking that's what love looks like isn't true. you should know, you read all of those romance books,”

“reading about love and experiencing love are two different things,” you countered. “besides, i wouldn’t know what love feels like.”

he pushed himself off the kitchen island, walking over to you and standing in between your legs that were hanging off the counter. he place his hands on either side of you.

“maybe i can show you?” he asked softly.

his face mere inches from you, you looked down at his lips for a second before looking up again. you took a deep breath and smiled softly.

“how do you propose you do that?” you asked quietly.

“like this.” he mumbled.

he leaned close you your face, his lips brushing yours. the second they did, it was like a fire ignited in both of you. you quickly pulled him close by his neck, crashing your lips down onto his. he slid his hands up your thighs, before settling them on your waist.

it was unlike any other feeling you’d felt before. your lips molded together like they were made for each other and you knew you were running out of breath—but you didn’t care. you could james potter forever if this is what it felt like.

after a moment, he finally pulled away, his glasses askew slightly. james rested his forehead against yours and you grinned, fixing his glasses.

“if it wasn’t clear, i think i’d like that very much,” you smiled.

“oh it was clear, alright,” he grinned teasingly.

after a few minutes of sipping at your tea and talking like you hadn’t just kissed (breaking rule number one, mind you!), you both returned upstairs. you were still freezing, praying to all things holy that his room had warmed up a bit from the time you were downstairs.

it did not.

you carefully got under the duvet, james doing the same. nonetheless, you were freezing.

james wiped his eyes and began to yawn, closing his eyes for a second. he opened them again and peeked over at you as you started shivering again.

“c’mere,” he muttered sleepily.

he grabbed your waist and pulled your closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. your back was to him, so you turned around swiftly and placed your cold hands on his chest. he was hot and not just in the aesthetically pleasing way.

“thank you,” you muttered.

“anything,” he grinned through closed eyes, peeking down as a proud look dawned over his face as you curled into him.

within minutes—you were asleep.

——

“y/n, honey! do you want to help me make the christmas eve dinner?” euphemia potter asked, leaning into james’ doorway as you sat there. you looked up from your book and grinned, nodding quickly.

“i’d love to,” you replied. you quickly followed the woman down the stairs, tying your hair up.

“i’m making roasted ham plus some other vegetables and sides,” euphemia grinned. and eerily, she still looked so much like james—it almost freaked you out.

you could’ve sworn you drooled as she explained. “sounds delicious, euphemia,” you smiled.

“start by cutting those vegetables for me while i prep the ham,” she instructed kindly, settling beside you as she prepped the ham with all the seasonings.

you were quite skilled with a knife, so cutting the vegetables was an easy task for you.

“who usually helps you with this?” you asked curiously, though a little afraid you might’ve take someone else’s job.

“oh, just me, dear. i can’t trust those chaotic boys in the kitchen, no matter how much i love them,” she chuckled. “fleamont helps where he can, but the man could burn water somehow,”

you chuckled. “well, i’m glad im here then. to help you,”

she smiled widely. “i’m glad you’re here too and not just for your help. merlin, i’ve never seen james’ relax so much since that evans girl came over. i liked her, but you’re a breath of fresh air. he really cares for you, dear,”

you blushed. “thank you, i’m glad to be here with him. and you all. you’re all so kind and welcoming, nothing like how it is at my house. usually there’d be some fighting, holidays are a bit tense for my family,”

euphemia frowned. “well that’s no way to spend time with family,”

“tell me about it,” you agreed.

“you’re welcome here anytime, y/n. i know i’ve been a little overbearing these last few days, but i want you to feel welcome,” euphemia laughed.

“you’re not overbearing and thank you,” you smiled at her.

a rush of footsteps came down the stairs, all three boys in the house were dressed for the cold weather. they were going with fleamont to do some last minute shopping. james smiled widely at the sight of you and his mother bonding over cooking.

“dad! we’re ready!” sirius exclaimed. you smiled softly at the fact that sirius had been so welcoming into the family—especially given his biological family.

fleamont came out of his study, dressed for the cold weather as well. he grabbed the pouch of floo powder from the table and smiled at his wife. “well, we’re off, honey. is there anything you need while we’re out?”

euphemia thought for a second. “i don’t believe so, you four have fun,”

james looked at you. “do you need anything, y/n?”

you smiled and shook your head, cutting the last vegetable. “not at all, you have fun.”

“well, let’s go boys, to diagon alley!” fleamont announced, all four walking over to the fireplace. one by one, they used the floo network and disappeared in the green fire.

euphemia quickly finished the ham and put it in the over. she turned to you and smiled.

“well, we have a few hours before they’re back,” she smiled, almost mischievously. “now, i normally wouldn’t do this—but you’re almost of age,”

she walked over to a cabinet and pulled out two wine glasses along with a bottle of wine. your eyes widened a bit in surprise and you laughed. “mrs. potter, how scandalous!”

“oh, what they don’t know won’t hurt them,” she waved off. she poured you both a glass and you both settled on the couch.

within fifteen minutes, you’d both almost finished the bottle—and the wine drunk talking had ensued. it was a rare occurrence for you to get wine drunk, but you only live once.

you doubled over in laughter as euphemia continued to tell her story, holding onto the couch for support.

“and then, mr potter asked me to marry him!” she cried in laughter, joining you in your laughter.

you laughed. “after all of that? merlin, the man has balls,”

she laughed. “yes, well, i said yes anyway. i love him, he’s a good father and a good husband,”

“james is a good boyfriend,” you commented, smiling softly at your own mention of him. “he’s so kind and understanding. he always listens and i just don’t remember my life without him,”

euphemia grinned. “well, potter boys have that affect. i would know,”

you smiled sadly. “i just don’t want to lose him,” you added.

“believe me, dear, you won’t,” she assured.

but she didn’t know what you did. she didn’t know your arrangement would end once lily evans plucked up the courage to ask him out. and you couldn’t even tell her.

“yeah, you’re right,” you lied smoothly, taking another sip of wine.

[matts-girlfriend]

It’s You I Welcome Death With- Chris Sturniolo

TattooArtist!Chris and MakeupArtist!Reader

chapter 8

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 warning this series will contain, substance abuse, angst, arguing,tension,swearing, mentions of absent family, blood, abuse (not from chris). smut, oral, this is a warning for all chapters

Ava had her headphones in, humming offbeat and unbothered as she scrolled through TikTok beside you, legs kicked up on the desk like she owned the place. You glanced over and nudged her foot with a half-hearted glare.

“Feet off, rat.”

She shot you a smug smile. “You love me.”

“Debatable.”

You leaned back in your spin chair, phone in hand, eyes glazing over as you scrolled through your emails and DMs—searching for a decent makeup gig that didn’t involve shitty lighting and influencers who thought blending was a government conspiracy.

You were tired. Still a little dazed. Still trying not to replay the events from two nights ago like some pornographic fever dream.

Chris. His mouth. The things he said.

The way he didn’t kiss you.

It was burned into your brain like a tattoo you hadn’t asked for.

You were about to give up the search entirely when you heard it—your name.

Not just spoken. Called.

“Y/N!”

You turned.

Ava followed your line of sight and gasped so dramatically it almost made you laugh.

Chris.

In all his tall, tatted, casually smug glory—hands in his hoodie pockets, curls messy, smirk already forming like he knew exactly what he was doing just by being here.

Ava turned to you with wide eyes and then immediately got up and walked toward him like a moth to a very hot, very blunt-smoking flame.

“You’re Chris,” she said, squinting at him like she was doing a full background check. “Like the Chris.”

He blinked. “I think so?”

“You’re the tattoo guy who won’t leave my sister alone.”

Chris laughed. Actually laughed.

You stayed sitting, watching this absolute fever dream unfold as Ava began interrogating him with more energy than she's had all day.

“Are you, like, her boyfriend or something?” she asked, chin tilted in challenge.

Chris shook his head, still smiling. “Nah. I think she’s allergic to boyfriends.”

“Good,” Ava said, satisfied. “She deserves someone cooler anyway.”

“I’m cool.”

“Name three reasons.”

Chris actually thought about it.

“I have good taste in shoes. I have good music taste. And,” he pointed at her with a raised brow, “I’m taking you both for ice cream because I’m bored and my brothers are fucking annoying.”

You crossed your arms. “You don’t have any friends?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Chris replied, not missing a beat. “You’re my last option.”

You snorted. “Flattering.”

He grinned wider. “Come on, you’re already bored.”

And, honestly? He wasn’t wrong.

⸻

You, Chris, and Ava ended up at the sketchy-looking ice cream spot with the best reviews in town.

Ava and Chris were on another planet.

Bonding over Breaking Bad like it was their religion.

“Wait, you think Jesse was hotter than Walt?” Chris asked, scandalized as he took a spoon full of his ice cream. “He was literally dumb as fuck.”

“He was sweet!” Ava defended. “And tragic! You don’t understand. You’re too busy romanticizing trauma.”

You nearly choked on your spoon.

Chris tilted his head at her. “Okay, therapist.”

“You’re not denying it.”

He turned to you. “She’s evil.”

“She’s sixteen.”

“Exactly.”

You watched them like it was a movie. Ava all animated and passionate. Chris leaned in, actually listening, arguing back with a stupid grin.

The same mouth that made you a shaking mess just two nights ago… now covered in vanilla ice cream and arguing about character arcs with your little sister.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or scream.

By the time he dropped you both back home, Ava was riding a sugar high and ranting about fan fics. God was she bold.

Chris parked and waited until she got out, turning the engine off but not unlocking your side.

You looked at him. “You’re kidnapping me?”

He ignored that. “Stay for a sec.”

You blinked, but didn’t move to get out. “Okay…”

He rubbed the back of his neck like he was unsure how to say it. “Nick and I were talking. Our brother Justin—he owns the shop out in Boston. He’s doing this bigger gig out there. Photoshoot, promo. Ink mag might be covering it.”

You raised a brow. “Okay…”

“He wants someone on set for makeup. And Nick said you were the only one who didn’t piss everyone off.”

You let out a soft laugh.

Chris looked at you fully now. “You’d be paid double. We already have hotel rooms booked, it’s two nights max. Me, Nick, Matt—we’re all going. You’d just be staying in the same hotel, not our room or anything.”

“Unless I ask nicely?” you joked.

Chris smirked. “Don’t tempt me.”

You bit your lip, debating it. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said. “Just figured… I don’t know, maybe you could use a little break.”

Something about the way he said that made your heart flutter.

You looked down at your lap for a beat, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”

Chris visibly relaxed. “Cool. I’ll text you the time.”

“You don’t have my number.”

“Then give it to me.”

You did.

And when you stepped out of his car and walked up to the front door, your heart was hammering all over again.

⸻

“Ava!” you yelled as you stepped through the front door, already kicking your shoes off. “Come here!”

She peeked her head out from the hallway. “Did we get robbed?”

You tossed your bag on the couch. “No. I got a job.”

She raised a brow. “And this is news why?”

“In Boston.”

Ava blinked. “Wait, what?”

You tried not to grin too hard. “Nick and Chris—well, technically their other brother Justin—owns a shop out there and they’re doing a photoshoot. They want me to be the makeup artist on set.”

Her eyes went wide. “Boston Boston? Like out-of-state Boston?”

You nodded. “They’re covering everything. Hotel, food, pay’s double.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god—oh my god. You’re going on a road trip with him.”

You rolled your eyes. “And Nick. And Matt. It’s a gig.”

She ignored that entirely. “Do you have to kiss him this time? Like, for the sake of the story?”

You grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her head. “I’m going for work, kid.”

Ava caught the pillow, laughing. “So when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” you said, heading toward your room. “I should probably start packing.”

Ava followed behind, arms crossed and a sly smirk creeping across her face. “You’re so full of shit. You’re excited.”

You paused by your dresser, shooting her a look. “I’m excited to get out of here for a few days.”

“And maybe to see if Chris is gonna look at you like that again.”

You shoved open your drawer. “I’m gonna punch you.”

“You love me.”

You didn’t deny it.

And while Ava flopped onto your bed and started helping you pick outfits “just in case there’s a dinner or some mysterious hotel bar scene,” you tried not to think too hard about it.

You were going to Boston.

Without Ava.

With Chris.

And somehow, it didn’t terrify you like it should’ve.

a/n: ROADDDTRIP taglist:

@courta13 @m4gz-png @lezleeferguson-120

@h3arts4nat @izzylovesmatt @sturnioliolo @hsemeria @sturniqloo

@venusbabysblog @chrisslut04 @crazy4weeed @chriscokewhore @chrisswaffles @urfavvvnyasee @sturnzluv @freshluvr @mattthemunchh @poolover123 @pleasantdelusionbear @carpentersturns @emosexyvirgin @emillionaireee @shamelessmilkshakefest @xoxochrissgf @sturniolodollx @joyfulheartwhispers @cutseylady @oopsiedaisydeer @steph1106

@laylaluvsu2000 @lvrsturniolo @chloe444 @yamommmasman @55sturn @whenlovesaround @luvs-booksss @vampyyluv @snowysosturn @moth-feeet @mx7ka @amb-3-r

[all-the-hyper-fixations]

Even More Good Omens Headcannons:

so we know that Hell has a photo of Crowley and Aziraphale shaking hands in 1941, which they attempted to threaten them with

BUT hear me out:

Beelzebub had known Crowley was 'fraternising' with an angel since Rome...

they didn't usually make time to visit Earth, but that Archangel Gabriel was sent down to observe some human thing or another, and really, they couldn't let an agent of heaven have the run of the place, could they?

and while they were there, totally not spying on the Archangel's activities in fly form, they happened to see the demon Crowley speaking with the angel of the eastern gate, Azifela or whatever his name was

they brushed it aside though, confident that it was just another one of Crowley's elaborate temptation plans (several of which Beelzebub had been forced to sit through tedious presentations of)

They thought nothing of it, until a couple of centuries later, when Beelzebub had just popped over to France to watch the revolution play out (well, to watch the guillotine play out - they didn't much care about sides as long the decapitating got done)

and, of course, sensing an angelic presence in the Bastille, they had to check it out (because what if it was Gabriel??)

...

It turned out to be that Aziraphale fellow, who had somehow gotten himself all tied up in a revolution that had absolutely nothing to do with him at all, and Crowley was there with him! And they were b a n t e r i n g

like they were friends or something

which was ridiculous - an angel and a demon couldn't be friends, no matter how hard they tried

and say what you will about Beelzebub, but they're a demon with professional standards, so they snapped a picture of the pair having crepes together (crepes? really) (side note: cameras were definitely invented during the french revolution no need to look it up no really don't google it)

so, yes, over the centuries, Beelzebub had collected enough evidence of Crowley and Aziraphale's...friendship, arrangement, whatever you wanted to call it, to make sure the both of them were sufficiently...dealt with by their respective head offices

but something stopped them from turning in the photographs

maybe it was the spread of compassion they still had buried deep, deep down within their demonic heart

or maybe it was the fact, the feeling, that if Aziraphale and Crowley could do it, become friends against all odds, maybe Gabriel and Beelzebub had a better chance then they thought