Ocean Blue Eyes, Looking In Mine

Ocean Blue Eyes, Looking in Mine

|| ao3 || finnick masterlist || an: i wrote this cause i thought rep tv was gonna be announced 😕 || based on the song gorgeous by taylor swift || requests are open!! ||

summary: Finnick flirts with you at one of the Capitol parties. (wc: 942)

warnings: drinking, I think thats it!!

The only interesting thing about the Capitol parties you were forced to attend, was that every now and then, you got to see Finnick Odair. The two of you had spoken a few times in District 4, but never enough to be considered friends. But he had always seemed nice, and he clearly still was, even after all these years, even after the Hunger Games.

“You might get alcohol poisoning if you keep drinking tonight, honey,” he whispered, his voice smooth as silk. 

“Why do you talk like that?” You ask, playfully swatting his hand away as he tries to take your glass of wine away. You needed the wine to distract you from the party. From its blinding lights that were starting to hurt your eyes, and the overly eager citizens of the Capitol that were beginning to get on your nerves. You needed it to keep you from counting down the seconds until you could go home. 

“Talk like what?” He asked with one of those charming smiles he always seemed to have on. The smile you both loved and hated. 

“Like that,” you reply, smiling as he looked at you in confusion. 

You had never admitted it to anyone, but you had always had a bit of a crush on Finnick Odair. It started when you were both five years old, and he helped you up after you tripped over a few seashells on the beach. He had helped you up, brushed some of the sand off you, and helped you look for your parents after noticing your legs had started to bleed. And after he brought you back to them, he had stayed to make sure you were okay. You weren’t sure if he remembered that day, but you did, and you couldn’t help but have a crush on him afterward. A crush that still stood as you looked at his face. At his golden hair, at his dimples, and at those blue eyes that reminded you all too much of the ocean that surrounded your shared district. It wasn’t fair that he could still make you feel this way, all these years later, even if you two have only spoken a handful of times since then. You decided to blame it on the alcohol.

“Excuse me,” you suddenly state, “I see someone I should talk to,” you say with a smile. You didn’t know who you would go talk to, but that seemed like a problem for the future. Right now, you just needed to clear your head, and Finnick Odair certainly wasn’t helping with that. 

You noticed the flash of a small frown on Finnick’s face before he quickly replaced it with one of his charming smiles. “Of course,” he replied, taking your free hand and raising it to his lips. “It was lovely talking to you again,” he finished, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he said your name. 

You knew Finnick Odair was a well-known flirt, which is why you tried to calm your heart as his lips touched the back of your hand. But the alcohol coursing through your veins certainly wasn’t helping with that.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You suddenly asked, immediately regretting the question as he smiled at you—a soft, sweet smile. 

“No,” he replied, “I do not.” 

The two of you stared at each other as you went over his response in your head. His ocean blue eyes looking into yours as you contemplated how to respond. You felt as if you could drown in those eyes as he creased his eyebrows, looking at you in confusion. 

“Why do you look confused?” He asked as you shrugged with a smile.

“I’m deciding if that’s a good or bad thing.” You replied.

“If I have a girlfriend?” He asked with a laugh. You simply nodded. “Why would it be a bad thing?”

Because you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts. It doesn’t make sense how you of all people could be single. “Because if you’re single, there’s no hope for the rest of us,” you joke. 

“I’m sure there’d be hope for you,” he replies with a smile. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

You could feel yourself grow warm at his compliment. “Does that usually work on the other girls?” You joked. He just laughed. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “I don’t really go around calling other girls gorgeous,” he said with a wink. 

Oh. “What do you call them then?” You asked. 

“Pretty,” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re the only one I’ve ever called gorgeous.” His hand drops back to his side as he smiles. 

Oh. He only ever called you gorgeous? Oh

“Well,” he says, glancing around the room, “I shouldn’t keep you from the person you needed to talk to,” he said. 

You had forgotten that. You wanted to admit you had lied about needing to talk to someone in order to avoid his gaze. To avoid the butterflies in your stomach every time he looked at you, touched you, and flirted with you. You wanted to stay and continue talking with him. To continue letting him compliment you as you stared at the captivating eyes you wished to get lost in. But you had embarrassed yourself around him enough for one night. 

“Right, of course,” you replied with a nod, fighting a smile as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand once more. “I’ll see you around, Finnick,” you said as he smiled, lightly squeezing your hand before releasing it. 

“I hope so,” he responded before leaving to mingle with the citizens of the Capitol. 

More Posts from Ijustwannareblogstuff and Others

Hey <3 could u please write a smut with dom elliot where he and reader are hanging out in his room. Reader is being needy and touchy and he throws her a pillow telling her to get off on it. Then he gets horny from looking at her and decides to fuck her instead

A/N: Been very inactive but this ask made me cum back.ďżź

warnings: hot smutty smut and pillow jumping and HORNY DOM!ELLIOT

Hey

Elliot’s head bobs slowly to the rythm of the music, shooting off the walls of his room. The sun is at its peak golden hour, pooling the walls and his face in amber light. He’s lying on the bed, feet where his head should be and he looks so pretty with his neck stretched like this, eyes closed. His throat is strained, and he licks his plumb lips. 

You quiver, observing him silently, lying the opposite way of him. Suddenly you feel as if he’s too far away, clambering around to lay next to him. You inhale his smell, and he peaks one eye open to look over at you.

“Hi,” you whisper, tracing his jaw down to his throat. He hums in response, an amused smile painting over his features when he notices the restlessness of your body. Your thighs are squeezing together, feeling a throbbing wetness between them.

It came on suddenly, but maybe it had built up from just looking at him and now that he’s so close and just a little arrogant you can’t help fidgeting for friction. He doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes again and you grow red in the face because you know he knows. Still you keep touching him, his neck, his chest over his shirt. He hums amused.

Suddenly he gets up in a flourish, leaving you vulnerable and so turned on. He went to change the music, prepared for a blunt to be rolled, all while the silence grew heavier and heavier. You felt like you were exploding. Cheeks red, underwear soaked. He whips his head around when you accidentally let out a little whimper.

“Jesus Christ you’re so fucking horny, aren’t you?” He smiles, before reaching over you. You stare dumbly up at him as his shirt caresses your face, exposing his little dark happy trail and bronzed skin. He grabs a pillow and throws it at where you lay before going back to his desk and the in-progress blunt.

“If you’re so needy, you can use that to get off. Hump my pillow, enjoy yourself,” he glanced at you, his eyes darker than before and you arch your back to intice him to come do the work himself but he just winks at you and turns back to his blunt. You bite your lip, thinking. Normally you would feel so embarrassed and awkward at something like this, at humping a pillow right next to Elliot- your best friend, fuck body, dlirt, something. Undefined, still. But you were so turned on, and maybe if you were good he would be the one to make you cum instead. So you hesitantly take off your pants and panties and Elliot can’t help but steal a glance over his shoulder, jaw clenching.

With shaking thighs you straddle the pillow, propping it up between your legs and settling down on it. You’re embarrassingly wet already and the pillow is stained the minute you lower yourself onto it. It takes a few minutes but you start grinding back and forth in a way that hits your clit just right. It’s soft though and you have to hold on to the pillow, grinding hard onto it. It shoots soft, needy pleasure through you and you close your eyes up at the ceiling, no waning loudly. 

Elliot freezes for a moment, but continues with restraint to roll the blunt. Your wetness is seeping to the pillow and you hump it relentelly, dragging you pussy across is over and over again, completely forgetting your original goal. But when you open your eyes again, Elliot it staring at you intensely, eyes dark and hooded, blunt abandoned. His knuckles are white, resting on his thighs. He’s hard, you can tell from there. Painfully so. You moan wantonly at the eye contact, because he’s so hot and looks like he wants to devour you and it’s just enough to get you so close.

“Fuck me,” he mutters breathlessly as he takes you in, and before he can control it, his chair is squeaking against the floor as he stalks over to you, pushing on your shoulders so you fall back, losing the pillow and the pleasure. You whine at the loss, being so close and your pussy is fluttering for him. He stares down at the wet mess you made on his pillow, before his eyes move upwards. “You can’t just fucking get off like that,” he growls, moving up your body while pulling down his zipper. You don’t get to point out that he told you to do so before his lips are smashing into yours. He seemed just as needy as you at this point, fumbling to get his boxers off.

“If you want it so bad you can have it baby,” he says, swiping the head of his dick through your wet folds.

“Please,” you moan. Him calling you baby was nee and it made you impossibly tighter as he entered you. His head drops to your shoulder where he bites down harshly. Your back arches as you take all of him. “Fuuuuck,” he groans, pussy-drunk the moment he saw you jumping that stupid pillow. His hands grips your waist, tits, hips, anywhere he can as he starts fucking into you relentlessly. Getting the pleasure back again came so intense and suddenly that you grip onto his shirt, pulling it harshly as ylu squeeeeze around his dick, already so close.

“You’re going to cum already?” He asks, but he’s no better himself. He’s hoisted himself over you, so he can look down at where he’s disappearing inside you. Your eyes nearly go cross eyed at his pace. “I’ll get you there, fuck I wanna feel you come on me,” he moans, fucking into you so he grinds just right against your clit, sending you over the edge. You moan his name over and over, seizing up all over your body. He can’t take it when you look so pretty, or when you cum so hard and his hand flies to rest around your neck, giving it a good squeeze as he cums inside you, spitting out curse words.

He collapses on top of you. “Jealous of that pillow,” he whispered into your neck, eyeing the wet stain on it.

“Would have your dick over any pillow any day,” you mutter. He rips your head to look at him, kissing your lips surprisingly softly.

“Better get used to it.”

3 years ago

tension // rc

warning; language, underaged drinking, mentions of cheating, mentions of anti depressants but not rly depression, mentions of smut but nothing descriptive, hella angst

summary; you find out the real reason kiara doesn’t hang out with you and the kooks anymore. 

word count; 4.5k+

rafe x reader, platonic!kie x reader, and a sprinkle of rafe x kie

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you had been friends with kiara for years. back in middle school, when kiara sat at a table by herself, you shocked your friends by placing your tray directly across from hers and asking her why she chose to sit by herself. 

you knew people that liked kiara, so you knew she wasn’t forced to outcast herself, but you quickly learned that she didn’t like the people at your school. she’d rather save turtles that caught in a plastic bag rather than talk about which swimsuit fit her body the best. 

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2 years ago

morning sun . xavier thorpe x black!reader . wc: 641.

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summary: spending a lazy summery morning in bed with xavier.

note: this is a love note to the summer, please hurry up i can’t stand this weather anymore

·:*₊‧ masterlist . taglist form . request works . ·:*₊‧✩

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11 months ago
Leliana Dress

Leliana Dress

mid length dress with animalistic prints

V 1 is with bra and v2 without

all LODs, HQ textures, bgc, custom thumbnails,

dl early access patreon💗

in game preivew ⬇️

Leliana Dress
10 months ago

skin | pope heyward

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summary: you like physical contact and you can’t stop touching your boyfriend.

pairing(s): pope heyward x fem!reader, platonic!pogues x fem!reader.

word count: 1.82k

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, lots of touching, fluff, aged up characters, mentions of smut (I think?).

author’s note: pope’s getting the love he deserves. everyone should just love the hell out of him. no outer banks season 2 spoilers! this takes place before the show.

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3 years ago

haven’t read it yet but I’ll be back!

as it will be - rafe cameron

You can find my other work here!

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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Soulmate! Reader

Warnings: tattoos, slight suggestive content, just overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 3.1K

Synopsis: You’ve had a tattoo on your wrist since you could remember, one that is supposed to match your soulmates’. With an ever evolving tattoo, you question the validity of such a system. That is until you meet Rafe. You meet Rafe Cameron in the library and he suggests you both glimpse at your possible futures together.

a/n: this was inspired by the story The Way We Love Here by Dhonielle Clayton in the book Meet Cute: Some People are Destined to Meet, and this is love by baby-bearie!

—

Finals week always feels particularly stressful, especially to you as you walk into the library. Just locating a table causes you to overthink, which random person will hate you the least if you sit next to them? With lots of thought you finally select a table already occupied by a golden haired boy. As you scoot out the chair diagonal from the boy you make eye contact. You subconsciously trace the set of lines on your wrist, your cheeks heating up at the soft grin he sends you. Something about him already feels so familiar, as if you have known each other for longer than three seconds. 

“Hey,” he whispers across the table to you as you take a seat. Your eyes find his brilliant blue ones before his eyes drift to your wrist, “nice tattoo.”

You glance down at your wrist before replying in a hushed voice, “thanks… I mean, it’s all natural.” You tease, a smile slipping onto your lips. You’re normally much more reserved with strangers but something about this boy makes you speak as though you’re friends. 

He chuckles, tugging down the arm of his sweatshirt. He holds up his left wrist, the same side as yours, which displays the same tattoo as you. “I know what you mean,” he shares, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Your eyes trace the abstract pattern, a mess of lines that progress over your lifetimes. A flutter of something erupts in your chest, this boy could be your soulmate. You’ve dreamed of who they would be since the very idea was introduced to you in school. “Wow,” you exhale, “I’ve never met someone with the same pattern as me before.”

He nods his head in agreement, “Well in that case, nice to meet you, I’m Rafe Cameron.”

You smile, “And I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n,” Rafe repeats, “It appears this is the start of something new." 

It is now your turn to nod your head, feeling a sense of urgency suddenly. You dig through your backpack, pulling out what you originally came to the library to do, "I hope so, but as of right now it needs to wait. I can’t afford to fail any classes." 

He chuckles, glancing over the multitude of books you pull out of your bag. "I can see that,” he plays, dropping his head back to his own book. You don’t catch the way his cheeks light up pink. 

Blushing, you whine, “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?" 

He shakes his head, looking up through the hair that has flopped over his forehead. 

You lean forward on your elbows, wanting to run your fingers through his hair. Your gut flips when he sends you an impossibly charming grin, "You know I’m just messing with you. What about we take a break in an hour, I’ll leave you alone till then." 

You nod your head, excitement bubbling through you, "Sounds good!" 

—

It is exactly 59 minutes later when your train of thought is interrupted, a excited tone to Rafe’s otherwise quiet voice "Have you ever looked at someone and thought about your possible futures?" 

You blink a few times, lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you. You know exactly what Rafe means once you process his question. There has long been a fairytale that touching matching tattoos together reveals your possibilities with the other person. 

You think back to the obsession of your childhood, finding all of the fables of soulmates. Your parents only found their tattoos to not match when you showed up, flushed cheeks and a head of hair, weighing 6 pounds 4 ounces. "I guess when I was a kid,” you answer, leaving the sob story out of the conversation. If this boy really is your soulmate he’ll be around long enough to hear it. 

Rafe seems more bouncy than an hour ago, his left hand twirling around an orange highlighter in the air. The boy seems to radiate energy, shifting forward in his chair, “What happened to that spirit?" 

You hesitate before rambling out, "You know, life happens. I got older and read more and more about soulmates who didn’t work out or about people born without tattoos. It made me question who or what decides these marks and how much they define everyone’s lives. What makes us more worthy of love than anyone else?" 

Rafe pauses, sucking in a sharp breath, he had never thought of life in such a way. "Maybe different people have different life plans, people who aren’t interested in romantic relationships exist. I don’t think anyone is more worthy of love, just different love." 

"I can’t help but feel that it’s just too imperfect for it to be true, you know?” You glance down at your book, rereading the same sentence you had been stuck on earlier. Your literature class somehow managed to mirror real life. 

Rafe’s wrist adorned with the tattoo plops into your vision, “What would you say if I proposed a deep dive into the inner-workings of soulmates?" 

You lift your gaze, eyes landing on the suddenly still Rafe. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is hope. "What if it doesn’t work?" 

"What if it does? There is only one way to know.” His eyebrows knit together, “What is there to lose?" 

You sigh, placing your own patterned wrist atop his, squeezing your eyes shut. Nothing seems to happen, you are highly aware of the warmth of Rafe’s hand latching onto your wrist. His cool ring contrasts the warmth of his fingers, pulling you back into the reality of the situation. 

You peek your eyes open, catching the lazy grin on Rafe’s lips, his eyes closed. You open your mouth to call him back, realizing the library is where you’ve stayed, only to close it when your surroundings blur. 

Your stomach churns, you’re easily phased by motion, cars, boats, and planes, making your palms sweat. You squeeze your eyes shut again, giving in to the swirling motion you both seem to be traveling in. 

—

You seem to wake up, reality, or whatever this is, hitting you. You sit on your surfboard, the one you left in California with your grandparents. The familiar scent of the ocean washes over you, the feeling of home rapidly trails behind. 

You kick your feet under the board, looking down at the white wetsuit you don’t recognize. If you had ended up here any other way you would have enjoyed the moment, instead you can’t help but question why. 

Where is the boy who had this idea in the first place? You glance around as much as you can, observing your fellow surfers. As you paddle, turning back towards the beach a tug pulls in your stomach. You paddle towards the beach where you feel you need to be. 

Your eyes are finally met with the now familiar face when your feet touch the sand. Standing on one of your favorite California beaches, Rafe toys with a film camera around his neck. 

"I was looking for you,” he greets you, stepping towards the waves. 

You tuck the board under your arm, jogging up to Rafe, “Me too.” You meet where waves barely brush your  ankles, smooth sand between your toes. 

Rafe glances you up and down. Something you would normally detest. And yet you don’t feel the need to hit him. Something about the way Rafe is holding your phone makes you suspect you’re there together. 

“You know how to surf? That’s so cool,” Rafe steps forward, his shoulder brushing your board. His eyes meet yours, a blush spreads across your cheeks as you toy with a loop on your wetsuit. 

“My grandparents taught me when I lived with them in middle school,” you respond then look around, “This feels like home, does it to you too?" 

"I didn’t want to make it weird but yeah, I’ve always liked California but I have never felt like this.” He thinks for a minute, glancing down at his left hand. 

No ring sits on his ring finger, something which makes you question what you want. Why did an air of disappointment bubble up in your chest? “We live here,” You share as the realization dawns on you, “And I’ve been waiting for you to propose for a while now." 

Rafe pauses, gaze shifting slightly above you. As his eyes land back on you he tucks the items in his hands into his pockets, coming up with a box instead. "That’s what I was going to do today, I just have bad timing apparently." 

You giggle, "If I wasn’t wet and you didn’t have a camera I would hug you right now." 

"Wet?” Rafe teases in a tone you know you’ll come to love, a smirk playing across his lips. 

Once again you are left to wonder the power this boy already holds over you. If he were any other boy that comment would have earned him a scowl. Instead, you lightly smack his forearm and quip, “way to ruin the moment." 

Rafe slings the camera around to his back. You watch his eyes crinkle as he grins at you, stepping closer as the world begins to spin once again. His arms wrap around your waist, your arms slipping around his upper shoulders. "Bye,” he whispers in your ear. You smile, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation of time slipping by. 

—

When you open your eyes this time you aren’t feeling as comfortable. Instead of the warmth of the beach, you are met with snow, large chunks falling down before you. You peer out the window, taking in the expanse of white contrasted by a mountain range you don’t recognize. 

Twirling around, you nearly trip over the heavy amount of clothes you are wearing, a long white dress. Today must be your wedding day. 

The door behind you creaks open, someone enters with a limp. The step followed by a heavier one keys you in to who exactly is here. 

“Papa,” you greet, turning towards the door, smiling at the man who raised you. 

He grins at you, taking in the expanse of your dress, “Are you ready?” He questions, “I’m sure you’ve been anxious out of your mind today, ready to take the final step and become Mrs. Woods?" 

You inhale sharply, "Woods?” Rafe’s last name isn’t Woods, where is the boy who you have quickly become attached to in these timelines? 

Your grandpa looks at you, forehead wrinkling as he raises his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

You only realize your hand is squeezing your wrist when you look down, freeing it to take a look at the pattern. The mess of lines you had in the library looks starkly different now, a progression of time. You return your eyes to your grandpa, dwelling on the slight sense of comfort he provides, “What about Rafe?" 

"Rafe? You know what happened better than I do, soulmates sometimes don’t work out I guess.” Papa smiles a remorseful smile, his gaze shifting to the snowy landscape. 

You follow his gaze, eyes darting across the cold. If you still feel love for him why didn’t you work out? Why is one of your possible futures a failed romance? 

“I’m ready,” you state, wanting to see who you are set to marry. How does this man compare to Rafe?

Taking your left hand in some sort of formal gesture, Papa guides you to the door he came in. You grab the last bouquet by the door when two helpers open the doors. In front of you is a giant, traditional wedding. You never wanted to have an indoor wedding, your love for nature prevented it.

You both walk down the aisle at an agonizingly slow rate, giving you time to look at each of the guests. Most of your family members take up the right side of the chapel. On the left, plenty of faces who appear to recognize you. Once you reach the stairs up to the wedding party Papa squeezes your hand then drops it, taking his seat in the front. 

Anticipation pulls your gaze up as you take the final few steps. First to the man you are set to marry, the name Seth comes to your mind, then to your bridesmaids. Your best friend steps forward, taking the bouquet from your hand and giving you a smile. As you stop across from your groom, your eyes land on his groomsmen. There, standing in a tux, is Rafe who sends you a sad smile when your eyes finally find him. 

You stumble, tripping over your dress slightly, Seth’s left hand shoots out to catch you. His sleeve rides up, revealing a tattoo vastly different from yours. You know deep down that this timeline doesn’t work out, how could you go and say yes to a proposal if you felt hope for you and Rafe? The simple answer is you couldn’t. 

As Seth takes both your hands in his own, the world slowly begins to tumble. Wanting this timeline to be over as soon as possible, you squeeze your eyes shut. You wait patiently for the next world, hopefully happier this time. 

—

When your senses come back to you, you realize you’re laying on a bed somewhere familiar. A warm weight on your chest and a calm sense of life. You quickly realize who the weight belongs to, Rafe, as you thread your fingers through his hair. You breathe in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to stay here forever. 

Rafe seems to take a little longer waking up but when he does, you jump. His head picks up quickly, landing on you before both of his arms wrap around your waist, “Oh thank the gods,” he remarks. His head lands right in the middle of your chest as you giggle, arms wrapping around him also. 

You grin, butterflies dancing in your stomach. You quickly forget how the last timeline felt, taking in the love in this one. In the pit of your stomach guilt sits, you caused the timeline where it didn’t work out. “Rafe?” You question with an uneasy tone prompting his head to pick back up. 

He hums, urging you to go on. Eyebrows pulled together, his thumb traces the skin of your waist. You feel some comfort over the way he traces a circle in your skin, warm hands on you. 

“I’m sorry for marrying someone else, I don’t even understand what happened." 

Rafe smiles softly, "Did you still love me? Cause I still loved you, a lot actually." 

You nod your head, smiling. "I just wish we knew what went wrong, you know, I don’t want that to be our timeline.” 

"Good,” he then adds, “And I don’t think it will. As long as we love each other I think any situation can be resolved with enough work. I think people rely too much on being soulmates when all relationships require work.” Rafe shifts, sitting back onto his lower legs. You shiver at the loss of contact, already craving the warmth and comfort of Rafe’s touch. 

You frown at him, crossing your arms to retain some heat, “It’s cold now.” The cold metal feeling of a ring pauses your thoughts as you look at your left hand. Wedding bands sit on your ring finger, matching the one on Rafe’s left hand. You hold up your hand towards him, “We’re married!" 

Rafe’s eyes trace your rings, smiling, he glances to his own hand, "I wouldn’t expect anything less." 

You blush, sitting up some on the couch. Life like this feels sweet to you. 

He chuckles, picking up your legs at the end of the couch. Rafe takes a seat then pats his lap, "I wanna see you." 

You blush once again under his gaze. Sitting on his lap you feel the need to fill the silence. As his thumb traces circles on your waist again, you whisper, "Hi." 

"Hey,” he whispers back, much like his first greeting to you in the library. His eyes leave yours, bouncing to your lips then back, “Can I have a kiss?”

Your stomach flutters at the gentle question, leaning forward as you hum in confirmation. Your lips meet in a soft kiss that quickly sucks you in. Melting at Rafe’s hand which guides your chin slightly higher before cupping your cheek. 

Your hands tangle in Rafe’s hair, pulling slightly on the golden strands. You enjoy the moment and the warmth of his hands pulling you closer. As you pull back slightly to breathe, noses on each other, the world begins to spin again. 

Rafe pulls you closer and whispers, “This is my favorite one yet." 

"Me too,” you agree, pecking his lips before you are both transported somewhere else. 

— 

This time you recognize your surroundings, the library. Your wrists are still touching, it appears not even a minute has passed. You look up at Rafe, grinning when you find his eyes already on you. 

“So,” he whispers, leaning in, “would you say that was a good idea?" 

You look down at your wrists, flipping your hand over to find a new detail. After months of tracing the same pattern over and over you are quick to notice the detail. You scan Rafe’s wrist, finding the same wavy line. "Look,” you trace the new line on his wrist, “Both our patterns have expanded in the same way." 

He shivers at your cold finger, making you smile knowingly at him. His eyes trace the new line on both of your wrists, "We’ve already gained something.” His right hand comes over and squeezes yours in a comforting way. 

You nod your head, realizing the time. The setting sun behind the mountains lights up the library in orange and pink colors. You much prefer this scene out the windows to the snowy one. Turning your attention back to the boy in front of you, you suggest, “why don’t we go get dinner, you can continue to establish what a good idea this was then?”

Rafe nods his head in excitement, pulling his hands away to pack up all of his stuff. You do the same, standing and pulling your backpack on, you wait for him. Once he finishes, he takes your hand and you both walk out into the warmth of the setting sun. Not knowing which timeline you will end up in but both confident it will work out.

—

likes, comments, and reblogs always make my day, thank you for reading! 


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3 years ago

Longing - JJ Maybank x reader

Summary : JJ Maybank discovers your secret, which makes him confess his feelings. (wc:2.1K)

Contents : fluff, angst, mentions of sex, alcohol

(this is kinda shitty but i feel like i need to write to get some new ideas so here we go)

GIF by jjmayday

Longing - JJ Maybank X Reader

"Silent treatment? Seriously ?" JJ asked you, wincing as you were cleaning his wounds.

You didn't answer, he didn't deserve it. Instead, you just pressed the cleansing pad on his bare skin a bit harder than before.

"Jesus, if you wanted to kill me you could've just let him finish !" he complained as he leaned on the sink, his hands gripped on it.

"Shut up," you finally told him as you couldn't prevent your eyes from rolling. "If you had listened to me, you would still be at the Boneyard."

JJ has never hidden his protective side over you. He's always been protective, even when you were in primary school. As time went by, the blonde boy realized he liked you but it took time for him to accept and deal with it, because he was obviously aware of the no Pogue on Pogue macking rule and he intended on respecting it. As for you, you've always had a crush on JJ Maybank but, as time flew, you came to terms with the fact that nothing would happen between the two of you and that you were meant to remain two close friends, as you have always been.

"Course, but if not me who's gonna make Rafe Cameron shutting the hell up ?" he huffed, anger coming back as he thought of the boy.

You sighed, throwing the cleansing pad in the trash can of John B's bathroom as you got up from the toilet. "He's a dick, J. We all know everything that comes out from his mouth is bullshit, you shouldn't let him ruin your party."

"You didn't hear what he said."

You folded your arms. "Tell me," you told him, not really interested but you asked him anyway so he could exteriorize his anger.

"Just some shit about you and Kie," he lied, scratching the temple of his face and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed, kind of flattered by the way he couldn't let anyone talk shit about you. You wouldn't admit it not even to yourself, but the heat you felt on your cheeks was only the reflection of the feeling brought into your stomach. You took his chin in your hand, making him look at you.

"Stop ruining your parties for Rafe Cameron," you told him, more as a command than as a request.

JJ nodded silently, nervously biting his lip. Rafe did not mention Kie, at least not tonight. However, he did mention something about you, something that only a few people knew about. The boy tried to wipe the thought out of his mind as you proposed him to finish the party you've previously left on the porch of the Chateau, with two cold beers that just came out of the fridge.

"Volvo or Mercedes?" you asked JJ, playing some dumb games while you were waiting for Pope, Kiara and John B to come back from the party.

His brows furrowed. "Ford."

"Pick one out of the two for God Sake," you rolled your eyes.

"Volvo then."

"Volvo is good," you agreed.

"Best spider-man?" JJ asked.

"Tom Holland," you answered, laughing as you saw your blonde friend tilting his head back, stunned. "What?"

"You should be ashamed, YN. I mean it," he joked.

"Shut up," you told him, smacking his arm and making him drop his can of beer on his t-shirt. "Shit," you muttered, getting up from the sofa. "Hold on a sec."

JJ, half drunk and not giving a single fuck of his t-shirt, just took it off, finishing the rest of his beer. As you were looking for another item of cloth for your friend in the spare room, your phone buzzed on the sofa, which made JJ startling as he felt the slight vibrations of your phone upon his body.

"Y/N, your phone!" JJ called out, not wanting to invade your personal space by looking at the notification (despite longing to do it).

As the boy did not hear any response coming from you, his eyes slid to your screen's phone. It was a text from an unknown number:

I kinda miss you

JJ's brows furrowed instantly, doubts filling the entireness of his body. He remembered Rafe's words, trying to piece everything together. Your phone buzzed a second time, this time it was a text from Kiara.

Where the hell have you and JJ been, cant find you

Before he could even finish reading Kie's text, you were back with a clean t-shirt and a new can of beer. "I'm sorry J," you mumbled as you handed him the t-shirt and the can.

"Thanks."

You took your phone and read Kiara's text. "Oh," you laughed lightly, "they just realized we were gone. It's about time, it's been like what, half an hour?"

You texted Kiara back letting her know that you were waiting for them at the Chateau. You then clicked on the second notification and JJ immediately saw your features changing.

"Is something wrong?" JJ asked, trying to remain as casual as ever.

You quickly shoved your phone in your back pocket, not taking care of answering the second text.

"Nope," you sighed, collapsing on the sofa next to JJ. "Everything's fine."

He nodded, knowing for a fact that something was wrong. Maybe not with you, but with him.

---

As you felt the water of the marsh meeting your body, you thought that there was no better way to spend your day than like you were exactly doing: a full day on the HMS pogue, followed by a night at the chateau where your friends and you could enjoy the heat of the Northern Carolina's summer.

Yet, JJ wasn't in such a good mood as you were. He couldn't get what happened last Saturday out of his head. Everyone noticed his change of attitude, but as soon someone wanted to start discussing the topic, he would tell you to piss off and that he was fine. The truth was that he realized he had no idea of what would be his reaction the day you would bring a boy to your friends so they could meet him. You already flirted with some guys during parties while he was there, but you never went far with any of those guys. All the pogues knew that you had kissed 2 boys in your whole lifetime, and every time it was just a stupid fling that JJ could bear with but the text you've received messed his head up. I kinda miss you. This would mean that you've already seen this person, and that something serious happened for you to delete the number. It also meant that the thing you've had with this person was serious enough for him to text you that he missed you.

"What are you thinking about?" Kie asked JJ, putting him out of his thoughts.

"Just thinking about the next surfboard im gonna buy," he lied.

"Liar," she answered, sitting on the edge of the boat as you were trying to drown John B with the help of Pope. "You don't wanna talk, fine. But don't talk bullshit at least," she went on, not on an aggressive tone as JJ would have expected it.

He sighed. Fuck, he just told himself. "I'm worried about Y/N," he admitted. "I've seen a text from someone on her phone that said he missed her. She never talked to us about anyone, so I'm just wondering what's going on."

That wasn't a lie: you've never said anything about anyone. They were your best friends and you didn't say a single word about someone who could potentially miss you.

"Maybe we should let her some time to do so," she simply said as you got onto the boat followed by John B and Pope.

"I'm starving," Pope admitted, taking the beer you were handing him.

"Same," you said as you were checking your phone, rolling your eyes as you were reading something.

"What is it?" John B asked you as he had noticed your eyes roll that went almost to the back of your head.

"Nothing important," you assured him, placing your phone back in your backpack. "Why don't we go back at the chateau and order some pizzas? I can practically hear Pope's stomach from here," you joked, smacking slightly at Pope's belly.

---

You cursed yourself as you remembered that the terrible headache that prevented you from falling asleep was probably due to the fact that you didn't put on any sunscreen today. You checked the time on your phone: 4:11 AM. For God Sake, you mumbled as you got up from the couch to go out and smoke. As you opened the door, you found JJ sitting on one of the steps.

"Can't sleep?"

"I think i'm the only person on this planet who can't sleep when she smokes a blunt," you snorted slightly, sitting down next to your friend.

The weather was nice. Not too cold, not too hot, it was perfect. The peaceful silence of the marsh would have allowed anyone to fall asleep, but not you and JJ. Ironically, the reasons why both of you couldn't sleep were closely related.

"So, what's wrong with you?" you asked him bluntly as you attempted to light up your cigarette.

"What?" JJ exclaimed, taken aback.

His reaction drew a slight smile out of you. "You're acting weird, JJ Maybank."

"I'm not," he asserted, taking the cigarette out of your hands to take a drag of it.

"You are," you told him as you took back your cigarette.

He sighed and then got up. "Good night, Y/N."

"You're not going anywhere. Sit," you said as you grabbed his wrist to prevent him from getting inside.

"How did Rafe know that you have a birthmark behind your left ear?"

You froze, this time you were the one taken aback by his question. You sighed, letting go of JJ's wrist, your eyes glued to the ground.

"Tell me-"

"Because Rafe has a lot of bitches and I've been seeing one of them for a while. But we're done, I told him to piss off," you simply told him.

If JJ were to be very honest, he would have bet everything he had on you banging Rafe Cameron behind your friends' backs. He was slightly relieved that you had no close ties to the elder Cameron, but hearing you say in person that you had a relationship with someone still had the effect of a sharp knife through his whole body.

"Is it why you're acting so weird? Because Rafe told you about my birthmark?" you asked him.

"I also read the text," he confessed, sitting down next to you.

You frown at him.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have done it. But I did, and it messed my head up even more."

You huffed, getting up and stubbing out your cigarette on the grass. "Why didn't you talk to me about it?" you asked, as you were getting angrier as every second went by. "You're supposed to be my friend-"

"I'm done being your damn friend while you're banging on kooks," he hissed, getting up and attempting to get to the twinkie. Yet, you prevented him from it by standing in front of him.

"Watch your fucking mouth dude," you warned him.

"Just let me the fuck alone-"

"Why are you-"

"Jesus Y/N I like you! Apparently you're fucking blind but please tell me you're not deaf," JJ yelled, regretting it instantly as he realized what he had just told you and considering that it was 4 in the morning.

You were caught off guard. You were so shocked that your thoughts took over your entire body, and it took you a moment to respond to what JJ had just told you.

"What the hell?" was all you found to say.

JJ knew very well that there was a risk that he would break your friendship by telling you, but there was no turning back. "Look, I just need to have a walk to clear my head and then you can lecture me on the no pogue on pogue macking rule," he assured as he walked by you, giving up on the twinkie idea.

You stayed still, unable to move. When you saw JJ come back as the sun was starting to rise, you knew you had remained there for a long time.

"I don't intend to lecture you," you said as he was about to speak.

"What?"

His innocence drew a smile out of you. "I'm actually planning to break the rule if you're willing to break it with me, so I don't think I'm in a position to lecture you," you told him.

You noticed his features change, then a smile.

He didn't answer anything but rushed towards you, took your face in his hands and firmly pulled your body against his as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You closed your eyes and inhale deeply as if you were trying to immortalize the moment.

"You could've said that you didn't care about the damn rule sooner," he joked before kissing you again.


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Do you know a fandom’s about to die when everyone starts posting social media AUs

11 months ago
"SIM DUMP I"
"SIM DUMP I"
"SIM DUMP I"
"SIM DUMP I"

"SIM DUMP I"

"SIM DUMP I"

Y’ALL I DID IT! I FINALLY DID IT!

"SIM DUMP I"

after months of editing, re-editing, and missing cc, then redownloading cc 😭, i'm FINALLY dropping my first sim dump! these are some of my absolute favorite sims that i've made and (lowkey but kinda highkey) didn't wanna share but i get teww many request in my pinterest dms soo... here ya go :)

available to download 03/17/2024 on patreon (always free!)

"SIM DUMP I"
2 years ago

no. 1 smut with argyle 🤭

1: “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

Girl im so sorry but im just, dom reader for sure here. I just I'm sorry but it's necessary bc we all know argyles a simp, best friends to lovers YUH. This one is honestly more sweet, not a ton of smut but its cause i too am a simp and i havent written much for argyle so yk i gotta get the simp shit out first before i unleash the whore kraken

WARNINGS: mentions of male, hand job/blow job, eye contact, def dom!reader vibes, sub!argyle vibes (hes just down bad and a simp), wet dreams tee hee

Join the Sleepover

Tonight was no different from any other night that Argyle crashed at Y/n's. The two had been best friends since the fourth grade-they'd practically grown up together. But lately things have felt a little different-at least for Argyle-and by lately that meant the past six months when with the help of Jonathan he realized that he was actually really into Y/n.

Apparently it wasn't normal to talk about how sweet, pretty, and interesting your best friend is every single day, nor is it normal to constantly call the guys she dated "annoying douchebags that wear knockoffs" or "fake skater surfer boys".

So he knew the truth, he was into her, sure that changed things for him, when they smoked-regardless of where-his eyes would focus on her lips for long periods of time and anytime she touched him it was like a jolt of electricity sent through his entire figure. Not to mention the way he found himself checking her out-eyes glued to her curves anytime she asked him how she looked, and the most recent shameful development.

The dreams. He'd dream about being with her, about fucking into her as she laid below him, his hair brushing against one of her shoulders while she looked up at him with parted lips and hooded eyes. The way she'd moan and whimper his name as her nails scratched along his arms and back, or the way she'd look on top, biting her bottom lip the same way she did when she rolled, all the while she massaged her own tits, eyes held on his. The worst dreams though-were the ones where she was on her knees, staring up at him as her tongue trailed along his cock.

She always looked so pretty like that, mascara stained cheeks as she looked at him through her lashes.

The only thing that made tonight different was when Y/n woke up at two in the morning and went to grab some water, as she crawled back into her bed she heard it-the first low whimper from his sleeping figure, then it happened again, this one a little louder-more of a groan and she had no idea what to do-her eyes wide as she stared.

Then he moaned her name-it wasn't loud but it was coherent and clear-he was having a wet dream about her and it turned her on, her body engulfed in a white heat as she stared, her lips parted now. She opted to wake him up, gently shaking his shoulder "Argyle, argyle get up" her harsh whispers were the first thing he heard as he stirred away-her face a few inches from his.

"Wha-what happened?" she raised a brow "you tell me, sounds like your dream was interesting" she was teasing him, her sultry tone had his eyes widening and brows raising-a look of shock and embarrassment on his face "y/n-hey man it's not what it sounds like okay-i just-you-we-shit okay you caught me" she giggled and shushed him.

"I have a question do you think of me when you touch yourself?” he didn't know how to answer that, blinking several times in shock, still processing that this was real and not just his dream "yeah-obviously" then he placed a hand on her cheek, gently caressing it before sliding along her throat then her shoulder, her brows knit together "what're you doing?" she couldn't help her giggle. "making sure you're real"

"I'm definitely real" he nodded his head "yeah-your skins really soft" she rolled her eyes, a smile on her face as she glanced at the evident tent under her sheets, his thin shorts doing nothing to restrain him. "can i help you with that?" he nodded his head "please-oh shit" he groaned as her hand slid down his bare chest, then below the sheets and the waistband of his shorts.

His head lulled back as she palmed him, biting his bottom lip while he shut his eyes "look at me baby" her dominance was evident, he immediately opened his eyes, looking at her face, holding eye contact as she grasped the base of his thick cock, then she started slowly pumping her hand along his shaft-thumb running over the tip over and over again, small whimpers and groans leaving his lips.

Then she moved from her spot, sliding the sheets down-pulling him out of his shorts, repositioning herself between his thighs, laying flat on her stomach, her legs kicked up in the air as she stared at him. The moonlight shining through her blinds reflecting against her figure-and he swore he had to be dreaming.

She ran her tongue along the underside of his cock, then she swirled it around his tip, gliding against the slit-gathering every drop of precum and his mind was officially fuzzy while he watched her. Then she took him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks, opting to take him further and further-until he was hitting the back of her throat.

He bit into his fist to stop his loud moans from coming out, his hooded eyes focused on her while she stared up at him-a few tears leaving her eyes as she took him down her throat-gagging around him. She let him go, then brought him back down her throat again-keeping the same rhythm up until she felt his cock twitching, then she took him out of her mouth, opting to wrap her hand around him-jerking him off while she stared at him.

Then she took him into her mouth again, sucking on the tip, his groans getting harder to hold back "y/n-baby-I'm gonna cum and fuck I don't know if you want me to in your mouth-like i don't wanna be rude or anything dude" she pulled him out of her mouth, biting her bottom lip and raising a brow "i want it down my throat"

He rubbed a hand over his face "oh god man-you really can't talk to me like that when you're this close to my dick" she giggled, rolling her eyes playfully before taking him back down her throat-he only lasted a few seconds after that.

Then once she swallowed and finished running her tongue along his cock-cleaning him up, she tucked him back into his shorts and laid back down, this time opting to rest her head against his chest.

"You wanna go on a date or somethin?" she giggled "yeah-i'd like that"


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