#Hair Topper Review

[brookie-the-cookie-lmao]

ok, if y’all have seen one of earlier posts, i was saying that i desperately needed a bootleg of “The Outsiders Musical” because i’m actually a whore for The Outsiders. well, funny enough, I don’t need it anymore because i was able to watch it in NY 😭 it’s a whole thing, but now i need to talk about it.

spoilers ahead!!!!

The Review, Thoughts, and Opinions, of “The Outsiders Musical” from A Theatre Kid

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to watch the original cast. The show I watched had pretty much all of the Understudies for the Greasers, except for Sodapop (Jason Schmidt) and Dallas (Joshua Boone). Thankfully, those understudies were phenomenal, so I’m definitely not complaining. They put on such a spectacular show, and they deserve so much credit and recognition for the work they’ve put into this.

Take my review with a grain of salt. I’m no professional. Just an enjoyer of musicals, who’s been in a few herself.

Oh, and speaking of credit and recognition, I need to talk Techies before I deep dive into the characters and their respective actors.

The Technical Aspects:

Choreo

Dude, that choreography was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I loved the way that they utilized every part of their stage and props. The dancing and jumping off of the car was so cool. I think my favorite choreo moments have to be “Run Run Brother” and the rumble scene. The way the planks were used to hide and carry and Johnny and Ponyboy was so enthralling to watch. And the rumble scene was so cool. I’m going to go into detail about this scene later.

Sounds

The sound crew is so talented. I loved the muffled, underwater sounds when Ponyboy was being drowned. I loved the train noises. I loved how balanced all the mics were. There were literally no issues that I could point out at my show with mics going out. They were perfect. I loved when those quick flashes of lights would happen and everything blacks out, the noises that went with it. I loved the noises when Ponyboy gets jumped (and the other characters too, but Ponyboy gets jumped a lot) and his head hits the car. The unconscious noises that followed. So good.

Lights

The lights were so cool. I thought it was interesting (and maybe it’s because I’ve never seen a Broadway show before this) how there were no handheld spotlights. I’m not a light person, so idk how it all works, but they were like programmed to follow them or they were moving the lights from their booth? Anyways, it was cool. The sunrise was beautiful. The church glass mural reflecting onto the ground was so cool. I loved the quick black-outs, with that singular light flashing. Idk how to describe it, but I loved it.

Props / Set

Dude the set was so cool. The gravel, the cars. I loved the cars. I loved how they used that one car the entire show and made it into different things. I loved how the Socs car moved. I loved the use of the planks. They were benches, they were hiding spots during “Run Run Brother”, they were Johnny’s death bed, they were used during the church burning. I thought it was cool that they used real food during that final scene between the Curtis boys. I loved all the climbing they did. On that jungle-gym looking thing on stage right, and the utilization of the higher parts of the stage. Pony and Johnny hung out there, ensemble/Socs/dally was there during “Tulsa ‘67 (Reprise)”. So cool. I loved the tire full of water, and how they put that topper on it so they could stand or sit or dance on it.

Costumes/Hair/Makeup

I live for Ponyboy’s blonde wig. That was hilarious.

The costumes were great! I liked that they didn’t completely base them off of the movie costumes and went for something a little different. I did find it funny how (and I think that was at the drive-in, or one of the scenes leading up to it) that Ponyboy had Johnny’s jacket in the movie, and Musical-Johnny had the cut-off sleeve jean jacket — similar to watch Ponyboy was wearing in the movie. Was it intentional? I guess we’ll never know.

I think the use of fake blood falls under this category? If not… womp womp.

The blood was so cool. I loved during the rumble scene how one minute all the boys had clean faces, and then when they were all center stage, fighting slo-mo, lights turning on and off, how they slowly started getting blood all over their faces and clothes. I thought it was so cool the use of blood during Bob’s death. He got stabbed, lights went on and off, each time showing a different pose of the actors, and Bob’s shirt just got bloodier and bloodier.

Music / Orchestra

The orchestra was amazing. I didn’t notice anything go wrong, everything sounded very smoothly. They did so good.

So, apparently some people have actually complained about the music? I really liked it, but I also see where they’re coming from. Loved the country feel to the songs — bc it’s literally set in Oklahoma. But, I also would’ve liked to get more of that 60s feel (think Elvis and the Beatles) rather than a modern feel.

But overall, I really enjoyed it. I’m not gonna sit here and legitimately complain, bc I didn’t hate it, I just was expecting a different vibe.

Idk Where To Categorize These

I also loved the use of the flashlights. Blinding? Yes. But, cool?? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Uhm, the rain??? Excuse me? I knew that that was in the show, but seeing it live was so much cooler. Like, how the hell do you even do that? I’ve never heard of something like that before. It was so cool.

The pyrotechnics was so cool!! There was soooo much fire. More and more fire popped up as the church-fire scene progressed, which was just 😫😫

The Actors and Their Characters:

So, when it comes to diving into the specifics of the characters, I do think it would be better to watch it a second time to be able to understand them better (that’s what I do with movies. First time you watch, it’s for entertainment. The second time, it’s to dissect it). And I say that because I am most familiar with the original source material. That’s what I was comparing this musicals and these characters to when I watched it. If I were able to watch it a second time, I don’t think I’d have that holding me back in my initial critique, because it did change the way I thought. If that makes any sense???

That being said, I do understand that books, movies, and musicals are all three completely different pieces of media. I don’t think that they should be compared too insanely harshly because the details that you can add into a book cannot always be reiterated in the movie. Musicals are a completely different territory, a different audience, and sometimes the flow that makes sense in a book or movie does not make sense in a musical.

Ok, moving on now. Just needed to put that out there as I critique and compliment these characters :)

The Ensemble

They had a very small ensemble cast, but they put their all into their roles. And, I say small, but I think I expected more because I’m used to high school theatre where they try to give as many kids an opportunity as they can. (I did Little Shop not too long ago, and our ensemble was huge compared to traditional Broadway casting for it. I think we had like 13 or 14 ensemble members?) Anyways, they were great. I loved that they had the Soc girls dress up as guys for the rumble. I was humored by that, idk why. I loved the cute little dance the Soc girls had in the beginning. The boys did really good during the rumble scene and during all the jumping scenes.

Paul & Bob — Dan Berry & Kevin William Paul

They were greatttt! I don’t have a bunch to say, since the story doesn’t focus too much on these two. But their performances were amazing.

I did find it interesting that Paul was actually a character in the musical, more so than he was in both the book and movie. Homeboy was not involved for the contents of the book up until the rumble (same with the movie), but he was the main Soc in the musical. It’s not a bad thing. But, it did stick out to me that they essentially replaced Randy for Paul. And i know that Randy ended up “being one of the good ones” in the book/movie, so I can see why they might not have wanted to expand in his character for sake of the story and time. But, I actually wouldn’t have been upset if they changed Randy’s character to what Paul was. If they just and whim want revenge. Idk. Ig I just missed Randy lol

Cherry — Emma Pittman

BRO CHERRY WAS SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING IN THE MUSICAL

I actually really liked her. And it’s not that I didn’t like her character before, I just was never impressed with anything she did. She was just kinda there. She was just the girl Pony had a crush on, nothing more.

But here?? She’s so much more than that

Once again, this goes back to how real these characters are.

Her and Ponyboy made a connection at the drive-in. That was always clear, but I don’t think it was portrayed as well as it could’ve been in the movie. In the musical, they showwwedddd it!!! They showed how similar the two were. That, despite their differences, they became friends that night.

I loved that she even broke up with Bob.

Her line “If I don’t talk to you at school, don’t take it personal” has a completely different perspective here too. In the movie, I thought she said that because of Bob. Because she didn’t want to cause a problem and Bob either her or Ponyboy. In the musical, since now Bob doesn’t matter bc they broke up, it means something else. It could be see as an asshole thing to do bc “oh why shouldn’t they just defy dumb biases??” But it’s more than that. It was a way to protect him. If Ponyboy was seen talking to not just a Soc, but Cherry Valance, he’d be given so much shit. Probably jumped. Cherry would also get a lot of shit for it too.

And she seemed like she cared so much more about Ponyboy in the musical. How she checked in on Ponyboy, cared about him while he was gone and then being hunted down by Socs, and even hand-delivering Johnny’s things to him.

(Side note: when Cherry visited the Curtis home and said “Johnny’s mother never claim his things”, someone behind me gasped at that. Me too, girl. Me too 😢)

Steve & Two-Bit — Jordan Chin & Henry Julián Gendron

Sooooo I actually don’t have much to say about Steve and Two-Bit because the show didn’t have much to say with Steve and Two-Bit. They hardly had any lines and they didn’t do anything except dance and fight. It was honestly really disappointing. And maybe it was for the sake of the story, which I understand. This is Ponyboy’s story, and he didn’t always have much to say about either of them. But, they were still important characters. Two-Bit cared a lot for Ponyboy after he returned in the book and movie, same with Johnny as he went to go visit him and was even crying when he confronted Johnny’s dead-beat mother. Steve was an important in Sodapop’s life. You can’t tell me that Steve wasn’t there comforting Soda when Sandy cheated. You can’t tell me he wasn’t there when Ponyboy ran away. He definitely was, but they never showed it. These are the two characters out of the whole bunch that literally never get any good rep and it sucks, because they are such good characters.

I’m gonna give the musical the benefit of the doubt — like I mentioned before — and that it was for the sake of time, pacing, story progression, etc. But hopefully you get the point I’m trying to make ?

Ace — Milena J. Comeau

I was shocked when the curtains opened and I saw a Greaser girl. I thought she was gonna be ensemble, but no, she was a legitimate member of the Curtis gang. She also didn’t have a bunch of lines. She just danced and fought a lot. But, props to her actor, because she is a beautiful dancer. She was so smooth with her movements, she traveled the stage so fluidly. I wish that they did more with her character, only because I didn’t exactly know what her role was within the gang. I actually don’t even know why she was added in the first place. Once again, nothing much was probably done with her for the sake of the show progression, but still.

Sodapop — Jason Schmidt

Dude. He was hot.

His shirt of off for like the first 10 minutes of the show, and I was just 😍 the whole time.

Anyways, onto his actual character.

I really loved what they did with Sodapop. Creds to the actor, but also creds to the writers.

In the book, the boys didn’t curse, like at all (and granted, this was written from a 14yo perspective. let’s be so fr, cursing was still an uncomfortable thing at 13/14). They would curse, but they were hardly ever written out in dialogue, Ponyboy would just say “and then he started cursing a bunch”. Anyways, I actually really enjoyed the fact that they included language in the musical. It made it feel more like a bunch of poor, teenage boys in the 60s. Even the things they’d say. Like, during “Grease Got A Hold” Sodapop was talking about girls and idk if it’s in the recording but istg, watching it live he said something about pussy, and like… implying something with sex. I don’t exactly remember but yeah. That felt very real. :)

I thought it was interesting how Sandy wasn’t mentioned as cheating on him, but simply breaking up and moving away. But, they also literally did not mention what happened between the two in the movie. So whatever.

I liked how they showed more of how much of a mediator Sodapop is. Every time Darry and Pony would fight and Darry would get worked up, he’d make sure that Darry doesn’t get too close to Pony and tries to calm him down. Ngl, it definitely looked awkward watching him trying to calm Darry down, but that’s also because (in my opinion) it’s one of the harder things to do on stage and make it seem real. Irl, Soda would be talking Darry down, and interrupting. He can’t exactly do that on stage. But, that’s not really a critique, just something I noticed bc it stuck out to me. Maybe I’m inexperienced, but I can’t think of a much better way to do that.

His character was much deeper as well. It was clear just how emotionally intelligent he is, but that he isn’t exactly book smart. He was funny, and they did play into some of the “dumb guy” humor, but they also had him be actually funny. Just like a 16yo boy would be.

Darry — Victor Carrillo Tracey

Darry seemed a lot more stern in the musical ??? Not necessarily in a bad way though. ? I’ve heard that people agree with that statement, but more or less as in “oh Darry’s the worst. He told Ponyboy that it would be better if he — Darry — left him, and that Pony would be ‘one less thing to worry about.’” But I don’t think that that’s him being mean.

Darry is 20yo. He had a full-ride scholarship for football, and had to throw it all away to care for his brothers. It was selfless what he did. He could’ve just allowed them to be put into foster care, but he didn’t because those are his brothers. So, he started working two jobs. He put everything he had into those boys, and made a lot of sacrifices in his personal life. So, yeah, when Darry is at his breaking point in “Runs In The Family (Reprise)” he’s going to talk about how much better his life would be if he could get what he wanted. If he could spend his days with a lady by his side, if he could’ve gone on to be successful in life. Darry isn’t Ponyboy’s dad — if that we’re the case, yeah, then Darry actually would be the worst character. Darry’s just a kid. He was a teenager not that long ago.

Does that make sense?

And, I don’t want to sound like a shitty person when saying that, bc I definitely how that could come off. I say it because I relate to it. Now, my parents aren’t dead, and it’s not like I was given the worst childhood either — just shitty circumstances. I’m the eldest sibling, just like Darry, and at times it felt like I was given too much responsibility on caring for my younger siblings. At times, I did think “oh it would be easier if I could just move out. I wouldn’t have this burden.” I think when I was 12 I even contemplated running away LMAOO

So, I don’t hate him, but I do sympathize with him. Because I know that what he’s doing isn’t easy.

And it’s clear that he does care for Ponyboy, because in “Throwing In The Towel” he shares how he’s feeling to Sodapop. How worried he is for Pony, how horrible he feels about what he did, he’s blaming himself for everything, he thinks that it would be better if he just wasn’t around. Yk what I mean?

Anyways

I liked his character. Like I’ve been saying; the character feels more real. The emotions Darry was portraying, the words he was saying — that’s everything a 20yo, working two jobs to provide for his brothers, who’s given up everything, at his breaking point looks like. I think Tracey did a great job here. Props to him

Johnny — Josh Strobl

For a few minutes into the show, I did not think that I’d like his character. He was much more talkative than what I was used to that I was taken aback. But, I quickly changed my mind. His character was really good. And it goes back to what I was saying about the characters feeling more real, more like actual teenagers. Johnny wouldn’t have been shaking like a scared dog all the time, stuttering and stumbling over his words in fear, having a panic attack every three hours. Maybe some of that was true to some degree, but the degree that this particular fandom paints him in. Y’all think he’s completely helpless. He definitely wouldn’t have been. Yes, he would still have anxiety, yes, he’d still suffer with depression (bc, let’s be honest, he definitely would have).

Johnny camped outside his house to make sure his dad wouldn’t kill his mom. He was still able to joke around and actually talk to people.

Musical-Johnny felt more like what a real person would go through. Still suffering, but not helpless.

Anyways. I need to make a critique. Before I say this, I do understand that I watched the understudy cast. I am well aware — as someone who has done double-casted shows before — that the understudy cast doesn’t get the same stage time/rehearsal time that the main cast does. I also understand that the ensemble doesn’t always get to perform that often. They don’t have set performances like the main cast does, they just fill in when needed.

That being said, I think I have this critique because Strobl (if I had to guess) didn’t have enough time to properly learn his character. Giving the benefit of the doubt here, I didn’t like the way he delivered his lines. I noticed it specifically at the end, when Johnny’s on his death bed. Ralph Macchio did a great job acting like he was dying — you could hear it in his voice. Strobl sounded normal. And, yes, that might have been for the sake of articulation and actually being able to hear what he’s saying. But… there were still things that he could’ve done. He was monotone delivering his characters dying words. Johnny had burns all over him, he has inhaled so much smoke, he was paralyzed. But he sounds like normal?

Idk he just sounded like he didn’t care to be there.

Dallas — Joshua Boone

I think that this was the best iteration of Dallas across the board.

Once again, the musical made him feel like a real person. He wasn’t just Tulsa’s infamous bad-boy. He was also really close with Johnny and Ponyboy. He cared for them. His care for those boys (ESPECIALLY JOHNNY) was clearly shown in the musical. Dallas just seems pissed off the whole time in the movie. Like yeah, he cares, but he’s also got mad attitude.

I loved that they made it clear how he views Johnny, and Ponyboy even. Called them his brothers. Even told Darry that he’s more of a brother to Ponyboy than Darry ever will be, because Dallas actually spends time with him.

Trust me trust me trust me — i am going to talking about Dallas’ suicide scene, bc I have a lot to say about it. But, I have a section further down where I talk about specific scenes that I want to talk about. There will I discuss this.

Ponyboy — Trevor Wayne

OK WE MADE IT TO PONYBOYYY

I freaking loved Musical-Ponyboy. Once again, as I’ve said it a thousand times already; he seemed much more like a 14yo boy in the musical. Idk what made him so boy-ish specifically, but I’m pretty sure it was that damn shirt 😭

I loved the narration throughout the show.

He had such an angelic voice

He was so funny

ABHHH

I loved how well he portrayed Ponyboy absolutely grief-stricken. The depression he was facing. UGH I live for it. The spacing out, the not talking. The lashing out even. Beautiful.

Dude and Trevor was so sweet too. I got to meet him after the show.

(Y’all idk why I have like nothing to say about him. Ik I do, I just can’t think rn omllll. I’ll come up with something, i SWEAR!!! I’ll come back with an edit)

I Must Talk About These Scenes

Dally’s Suicide

Ok, this is gonna sound morbid… but I really liked it. It’s impact hit me much harder than it ever did in the book/movie — and that shit hurt the first time I read it.

I went into this musical completely blind. Didn’t want to know the plot, didn’t listen the cast album, scrolled past most of the promo videos online. So… I was definitely shocked as I watched Dallas jump in front of a train.

So, I did a little bit of digging, and apparently they changed how Dally died because they didn’t want to being politics into the show — police brutality. Which, I get it. But… let’s be honest. You’ve got a show that is very much about how hard the Greasers have it versus the Socs. How much the Socs can get away with, and what very little the Greasers get away with. They said that they were particular in their casting — Socs were all white, while the Greasers had a heavy POC cast. So, if you’re trying to make a point about he unfairness of life these boys faced, it wouldn’t have been the most shocking thing to have the police shoot Dallas. But, that being said, I also didn’t hate it. Like I mentioned earlier, Dallas’ grotesque ending hit me much harder.

To sit there and watched as Ponyboy narrates Dallas’ final moments, the thoughts that could’ve been going through his head, how Ponyboy pictured what his last actions or words were — I mean, my heart was racing, I couldn’t look away, and I was sitting there thinking, “there’s no way a train’s gonna be his death.” And then it was. It was loud. It was bright, then quickly blacked-out. When the lights come up again, Ponyboy retells what happened to Dallas as he got hit. Pieces of him flew everywhere. The train derailed.

It’s such an awful way to go. Horrifying. Scary. I think it’s one thing to get shot to death. It’s a whole other thing to stand there and watch as a train slowly comes after you.

The Rumble

HOLY FUCKING SHITT

The fight choreo was amazing, and then the synchronized punching and getting kicked down was just 😫

I loved the way that they had Johnny in that scene too. I saw him show up out of literally nowhere in his regular clothing, then fucking disappear so smoothly. AND THEN HE REAPPEARS AGAIN ON HIS HOSPITAL BED AND GOWN SO QUICKLY?!?? EHAT?!?! I need to know how they did that. How did they get that set together so quickly? How did they get Johnny to change so quickly? Did they have a seperate actor? Or is this dude literally the Flash?

Anyways, I was fucking gripping my seat handles and leaning over my seat freaking the fuck out over that beautiful transition.

UHM THE FUCKING RAIN?!?!

Ik I already talked about this — but it was SO COOL to see irl. I loved it so much. I mean, I truly cannot think of any other production doing something like that, unless I just am not as well-versed in the theatre world as I thought I was lol

It was such a cool scene

Church Burning

I mentioned the pyrotechnics of this scene earlier, but honestly the whole thing was impressive. The projections, the beams being used to throw the whole thing falling apart and just showing the overall chaos. It was awesome.

Darry & Dallas Fight

Yeahhhh ummmmm I didn’t like that :/

I wasn’t like “oh wow this is so out of character and strange, this doesn’t make any sense to be in here”, bc to some degree I could see how worried Darry would get onto Dallas for hiding where his younger brother is. But I don’t think Darry’s proud enough to get into a physical alteration with him over it. He definitely would think that he’s “too old to fight” and that he could be saving his energy focused on finding his brother and being able to work so he can provide for his family.

And maybe it’s because I haven’t read the book in forever, and the fact that the two never really interacted in either the book or movie, but I feel I’ve seen it somewhere that Dallas and Darry actually had a decent relationship. Or that Dallas looked up to Darry ??? Am I crazy? Did I just make that up ? or was that actually said lmaoooo

Anyways, found it a little strange. I’m gonna chalk up finding this interaction weird to the book being all in Ponyboy’s POV, therefore the writers had to really reach to get the audience to understand what the other characters were going through. If that makes sense??

I think if this did happen, they would start almost punching each other. Darry’s too responsible. And I think he cares too much for his friends — even if it is Dallas Winston.

Sodapop + Ponyboy Talking In Bed

bro this scene was so funny. I literally only wanted to mention this scene because I can’t stop thinking about:

SP: “What are you reading?”

PB: “It’s a book called Great Expectations.”

SP: “How many pages is it?”

PB: “544–“

SP: “FIVE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR FUCKING PAGES?!?!?!… that would take me ten years to read.”

The Ending — The Curtis Brothers

I loved the connection that was finally formed at the end between the brothers.

I liked the acting here. Ponyboy hasn’t spoken hardly a word this whole time. Now, all of a sudden, he’s asking his brothers if they want to read his book. Darry and Soda, who’ve been waiting for him at the dinner table, slowly — in shock — turn to him. UGH I LOVED THAT!

And when Darry said “can I read it too?” and Pony just goes “really? You want to read it?” He expected Darry not to care. But he did.

When Pony physically lashed out at Darry, Sodapop breaks it up and he finally breaks. But… it felt very rushed. Sodapop had some very real feelings, and while everyone agreed to try to do better, I would’ve liked for them to focus on Soda a bit more. The movie did it beautifully. They took their time, we watched as Pony and Darry finally fully realize how much they’re tearing their family apart. How badly it’s impacting them — how it’s affecting their own brother. The musical definitely rushed it.

But other than that, it was so heartwarming

Final Thoughts

All in all, this show exceeded my already great expectations for it (FULL FUCKING PUN INTENDED, i think i’m so funny).

I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to watch this brilliant show.

Listening to these beautiful voices, I had goosebumps all throughout the songs, especially Great Expectations. Trevor Wayne has a spectacular voice, and those high notes in that song was soooo good

I want to watch this show again and again. I also would like the see the OG cast. But, I’m definitely not complaining with what I got.

Ok. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :) if I remember anything else, I’ll edit this post.

[blue-cordial]

OUTER BANKS ACADEMY LAST PART - RAFE CAMERON X READER

Years had passed since Y/N had left the elite boarding school, each day bringing new challenges and adventures. She had pursued her passion for literature, eventually becoming an editor at a prestigious publishing house in a bustling city. Life had settled into a rhythm of deadlines, literary events, and occasional quiet moments of reflection.

One crisp autumn afternoon, as Y/N sat at her desk reviewing manuscripts, her phone buzzed with an unexpected notification—an invitation to her ten-year high school reunion. Memories flooded back: the late-night study sessions, secret rendezvous, and the complicated relationships that had defined those years.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N found herself RSVPing to the event, curious about the people she had once known so intimately. Among them, Rafe and Topper loomed large in her mind, their paths diverging after graduation.

The night of the reunion arrived, and Y/N stepped into the familiar halls of their alma mater, nostalgia washing over her. She mingled with former classmates, catching up on careers, marriages, and new beginnings. Sarah greeted her with a warm hug, the years melting away as they reminisced about their shared adventures.

As the evening progressed, Y/N found herself scanning the room, wondering if Rafe or Topper had decided to attend. And then, amidst the crowd, she spotted him—Rafe Cameron, looking every bit the charismatic figure she remembered.

Their eyes met across the room, recognition sparking between them. Y/N felt a rush of emotions—nostalgia, curiosity, and a twinge of unresolved feelings. She excused herself from the conversation with Sarah and made her way towards him, her heart pounding with each step.

"Rafe," she greeted softly as she reached him, unsure of what to expect.

His smile was warm and genuine, tinged with a hint of surprise. "Y/N. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I couldn't resist," she admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "How have you been?"

Rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes searching hers. "Busy. Life took me in unexpected directions."

Y/N nodded, suddenly acutely aware of the years that had passed since they last spoke. "Mine too. It's good to see you."

They fell into an easy conversation, reminiscing about their shared past and catching up on their present lives. Rafe had pursued a career in finance, finding success in a field that challenged and rewarded him. Y/N shared her journey in the world of publishing, the thrill of discovering new voices and stories.

As the night wore on, Y/N found herself drawn to Rafe's familiar presence, the easy camaraderie they had once shared rekindling effortlessly. They laughed about old inside jokes, shared memories of their time in the library, and even touched upon the complexities of their past relationship.

"I never forgot about you, you know," Rafe confessed quietly, his gaze intense. "Even after all these years."

Y/N felt a pang of emotion, her heart fluttering with a mixture of longing and nostalgia. "Rafe..."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I understand if things are different now. If you've moved on."

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing with the weight of their history. "Maybe... maybe some things are meant to be revisited."

Rafe's expression softened, hope flickering in his eyes. "Do you mean that?"

Before she could respond, a familiar voice interrupted their conversation. "Hey, there you two are! The reunion committee is about to announce the raffle winners. You coming?"

It was Sarah, her presence a welcome interruption to the charged atmosphere between Y/N and Rafe. They exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.

"Yeah, we'll be right there," Rafe replied with a smile, turning to Y/N. "Shall we?"

Y/N nodded, a mix of uncertainty and anticipation swirling inside her. As they joined Sarah and the rest of their classmates for the raffle announcement, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. The night was still young, and amidst the laughter and chatter of old friends, Y/N felt a renewed sense of possibility.

As the reunion drew to a close, Y/N found herself standing outside the school gates with Rafe. The air was crisp with the promise of autumn, leaves crunching beneath their feet as they walked in companionable silence.

"Thank you for tonight," Rafe said softly, breaking the quiet between them. "For giving us another chance."

Y/N smiled, her heart full. "I guess some things are worth revisiting."

They stopped beneath a canopy of trees, their breath mingling in the cool night air. Rafe reached out, his hand finding hers with a gentle warmth that sent shivers down her spine.

"Y/N," he started, his voice earnest, "I've never stopped caring about you. And if you're willing to take a chance on us again..."

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love that had endured through the years. "Rafe, I..."

Before she could finish, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of hope, forgiveness, and the promise of a future together.

And as they stood there beneath the stars, surrounded by the echoes of their shared past and the possibilities of their future, Y/N knew that sometimes, love found a way to rewrite the stories we thought were finished.

Epilogue:

Years later, Y/N L/N and Rafe Cameron stood hand in hand beneath a canopy of stars, their love story a testament to second chances and the enduring power of fate. They had weathered storms and celebrated triumphs, their bond strengthened by the lessons learned during their tumultuous youth.

Sarah remained their steadfast friend, her support unwavering as they navigated the complexities of adulthood. And while memories of Topper remained bittersweet, Y/N had come to understand that their brief encounter had shaped her into the person Rafe had fallen in love with.

Together, Y/N and Rafe forged a future filled with laughter, love, and the unwavering belief that sometimes, the most unexpected journeys lead us to exactly where we are meant to be.

And as they looked out at the world before them, hand in hand, Y/N knew that their story was far from over—it was only just beginning.

[tenma-the-mad]

GamingOnTheSpectrum: GameSir Kaleid Review

As an autistic gamer and a dedicated PvP player, I’m VERY picky about my controllers and peripherals. I’ve been rocking the (unfortunately now discontinued) Xbox One model controller for the past ten years, which has become my gold standard for feel.

After researching, buying, and returning multiple different pro controllers from a variety of companies, the Gamesir Kaleid (pronounced “collide”) might just be my new daily driver.

And it isn’t just because I can set the RGB to pulse the Bi Pride flag colors.

TLDR:

Pros - affordable ($50) wired Xbox controller with Hall Effect sticks to minimize the chance of stick drift, mechanical ABXY face buttons, two programmable rear buttons, good hand feel, and cool RGB options

Cons - no wireless option, only two back buttons, no mechanical trigger stops, and the faceplate is a soft plastic that can scratch easily

Mechanicals:

- Sticks: magnetic Hall Effect units with standard tensioned sticks that are compatible with PlayStation-sized KontrolFreek toppers.

- Face Buttons: super responsive mechanical switches rather than the cushy membrane switches that fail as soon as the membrane wears out.

- Triggers: normal triggers with some added texturing & no mechanical trigger stops, though hair trigger mode is an option

Customization:

Via gamesir app:

- Remap any button, with up to 3 saved button profiles

- Adjust stick deadzones & responsiveness

- Hair trigger setting

- Adjust or turn off trigger and handle rumbles

- Customize full-spectrum RGB lights

- Overclocking to 1000Hz (future update, matching the G7se capability), unfortunately disables the headset port

Physical (via “M” multi-function button)

- Remap buttons on the fly

- Adjust audio levels/balancing

- Swap between RGB profiles

Ergonomics:

Very similar to the Xbox One shell design but with the addition of some stippling in the rear plastic for grip, similar to the Xbox Series controller. Personally the stippling is much less offensive to my texture sensitivity than the Series controller, but could be an understandable non-negotiable for some. Weight is comparable to a stock controller.

Overall:

8.75/10 an affordable pro controller that has replaced my old reliable Xbox One model and feels better than many more expensive pro variants.

Now if only Gamesir would come out with a high-end version that had the same feel and some additional customization options like trigger stops and 4 back buttons.

[rudystree]

season 3 was actually my favorite season! everything about it was just really good. the pogues finally getting the gold. it was so amazing.

ward and big john dying?! that was shocking, but i kinda saw it coming. when we started to hear john b's narration of the situation and the camera shows ward, dead, and he says something to the affect of the villains becoming heros. in that moment, i didn't know if i still hated ward or if i kinda liked him for sacrificing his own life for sarah.

idk how to feel about big john though. he tried getting john b to keep secrets from the pogues even though they had every right to know what was going on. that lead to sarah and john b getting into a fight, which lead to sarah kissing topper, sarah telling jb and then finally jb beating up topper and now he's getting charged w it. the charges don't matter eventually, but still. it caused sm problems within the story.

popecleo was so freaking cute. i loved it sm. i just loved their chemistry. carlacia and jd did an amazing job on portraying it. seeing cleo comfort pope when he was about to shoot rafe was just so pure!! i really cannot wait to see how their relationship is in season 4.

jiara this season!! i actually never chose sides between the jjpope/jiara war, but jiara was actually so good. seeing something develop in season 1 that was completely unintentional to season 3, the characters getting together just shows how much the fandom's voice was being heard.

i don't really know why the writers keep planning sarah to go back to topper after fights she has with john b. it's just so unnecessary and not even shocking atp. there was many more other situations they could've done instead of sarah getting w topper.

jj's storyline w luke! i hate how they just forgot about that in mid season 2 and didn't care to look back at it. it was just completely unfair how they would do that to jj. i wanted the writers to dive deeper into jj's personal life and see the root causes to all of it.

anyways, i would love to hear your thoughts about season 3!!

omg i LOVE this review!!! tysm 🫶🏻

i tried to condense all my big thoughts in an earlier post because i actually agree with legit everything you wrote here. 🌟

ward had an interesting arc this season. i liked what they did with him. in the teaser / trailer i was super pissed that they were still trusting him with stuff (and yeah…it was dumb) but he did show redeeming qualities somehow. big john actually made him look like a better father 💀 i’m glad he’s dead now and i like the way he went with a little dignity left.

i also never chose sides in the jiara / jjpope stuff. i only became a jiara shipper once i knew it would be canon for sure. and it was beautiful. i gotta say, i did miss jjpope scenes, platonically. it was sweet that they included their little talk about kie. but i needed a lot more. popecleo was so so cute and i would’ve liked a second lil bro talk about it. they also missed such a major opportunity with sarah and jj staying together — those two have so much to talk about, whether it’s kie/john b or the fact that they’re both parentless and homeless. but instead they wasted time driving her back to topper..again. it was a real shame.

every setback however was kind of redeemed by the fact that jj was looking like a whole 3 course meal ajshskshsk 😩 like …he ALWAYS looks good. but his S3 looks just had me floored the whole time. and the badass energy? that man is so damn fine. and to think ppl spent so much time worrying and complaining about his hair, body, etc during filming. if any plot line bothered me i just think about how gorgeous he is and i’m okay again lmao.

now if we didn’t know that a S4 is coming i would’ve thought for sure this was the series finale. i am NOT a fan of the time jump. but now i’m just very intrigued as to how they are gonna keep the story going. and with a bit of luck S4 will be jj-centric and feature some much needed stories on his background 🤞🏻

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

im STUDYINGGGG AGAIN hahaha and i decided to read ⬇️

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

so u see… there’s this bird and this bee…

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

why r u lowkey funny 😭 girly is going through it but she can’t cry bc she needs to keep her makeup intact is hilarious to me

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

WHAT IF RUTHIE KNOWS

That would be so him, though.

oh my god

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

like i said she’s FUNNNYYYY

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this… this thing inside you.

okokokok i love that she's hypocritical because all her motives makes sense and the sense of flow is so perfectly-paced it makes me wanna scream

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.Rafe. 

a GUN

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

THIS BITCH

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

im actually shaking

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

this motion is so him too

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her. 

WHAT IF SHE TOLD HIM TO APOLOGIZE

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

i would be literally committing mass murders rn

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head. 

literally get a grip

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

bro idolizes his dad wayyy too much

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

i love her so much

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

there would be nothing but god stopping me from murdering this man

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

she’s so bitchy i love her

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

TOPPER HAND ME A GLOCK

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

she's actually so real

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

TELL HIM GIRLY POP

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

he likes SOFIA makes me wanna scream

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

i read this as pope heyward and went LEAVE MY MAN POPE OUT OF THIS

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

i wish she DID OHMYGOD

💌 — the visceral anger i feel for rafe right now makes me wanna register for a gun. also also, their fight that cuts so deep because they know each other so well is done to PERFECTION and not only that, i LOVE LOVE LOVE how you can follow reader's train of thoughts—so even if she's hypocritical in her response, it makes perfect sense. lastly, rafe has the fucking audacity i would've slapped him so hard he would've saw his dad ok done

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - THREE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x Sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, of abortion, health risks & death.

Two lines.

Two bold, definitive lines.

You blinked. Once, twice, but it didn’t change. It wasn’t going away. 

Two lines, clear as fucking day, staring back at you like they were taunting you.

The universe was laughing right in your face. You felt everything plummet to the very bottom of the earth—the room, the floor, your stomach—it all just plummeted, like you’d been pushed off a cliff with no warning.

The test fell from your grip, clattering onto the marble countertop, but you didn’t care. You backed away from it like it was something radioactive, something dangerous that could destroy you if you got too close. But it already had, hadn’t it?

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

You knew how, obviously. You weren’t that dumb. All you could see in your head was Rafe’s stupid fucking face. His name alone made you want to punch something, preferably his balls. 

You were pregnant? With his kid? You were so careful with your life, with your image. 

You could feel the resentment rise in your throat again, the taste of acid making you want to scream. He didn’t get to do this to you. He couldn’t ruin your life twice, fuck you up this bad and then just leave. You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. You hated it. And worse, you hated yourself.

There you were, stuck with this. Alone with a baby you didn’t even want to think about. The thought of it growing inside you—of carrying some piece of him, some reminder of everything he put you through these past two months—it was loathsome. He wasn’t part of this, not anymore. And you weren’t that girl—you didn’t want to be. You weren’t the one who begged for him to care, who waited around for him to come to his senses, who made excuses.

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

You weren’t going to ruin all that hard work over him again. No way.

You pressed a tissue to your eyes—not to cry, but to catch the stray moisture that threatened to ruin your eyeliner—and took a deep breath. You smoothed your dress, and made sure everything was in place. 

You didn’t have time to figure it out, or wallow, or throw shit around. You straightened your back, lifted your chin, and forced yourself to feel nothing. 

Not the panic, not the nausea, not the rage. Nothing. 

You could push it all down, shove it into that deep hellish place in your guts where you put everything else. Later, maybe you’d have to let it out.  

Just as you were spiraling deeper into the pit, there was a knock on the door. Loud. It made you jump, pulling you out of your head for just a second.

“Hey!” It was Lily, her voice bright, oblivious. “It’s time. We need you out there. You’ve got like three minutes.”

Right. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

You stepped out of the room, every movement rehearsed, the smile expertly placed on your lips. You were a master at this—faking it, pretending like nothing in the world could touch you.  Not after seeing those two fucking lines.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked through the hallway, down the steps, and into the ballroom. It was filled with kooks being kooks. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake friendships. You weren’t even listening to a word anyone said to you.

“Hi, darling, you look stunning as always,” someone said, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled, said thank you, maybe even added a you too, but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your body knew exactly what to do at these things. 

Pretend like you gave a shit.

“Your dad would be so proud,” another woman gushed, and you wanted to throw up. You laughed. 

If he knew what was happening. Pregnant? By a man who didn’t put a ring on your finger?

And there they were, of course—Topper, Kelce and Ruthie, standing in the middle of it all, grinning like idiots. Well, Topper grinning like an idiot.

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and you reached out instinctively, but the waiter, somehow, just missed you. The tray floated right past, and before you could even realize the fact that you didn’t have a drink in your hand, her eyes were on you.

“Oh, you're not drinking?” she asked, voice dripping with fake concern. Her eyes flickered, like she knew something, and you swear to god, your eyelid twitched.

“Not yet,” you replied with the same faux smile.

Ruthie just kept watching you with those too-knowing eyes, like she was looking for a crack, some little tell. Because she always did.

You had to be so careful around her.

One wrong move, one second, and she’d be all over it, spreading it around the entire town before you even had a chance to breathe.

Your cousin, completely oblivious, was babbling with Kelce about something—probably golf, or the new boat his dad bought, or some other thing you couldn’t care less about. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but you were mentally still in the bathroom, staring at those two lines.

“So, you invited Rafe?” Kelce said it like it was nothing, like bringing up your ex-boyfriend was the most casual thing in the world.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” You all but growled out, enough to make him choke on his champagne.

He looked genuinely confused, as if he didn’t just mention the one person you’d rather hurl off a bridge at the moment. “Yeah, Rafe. He’s on the list, right?”

Your whole body went rigid. You blinked, trying to keep your face from giving anything away, but inside? You were dying. Ruthie’s eyebrows shot up—oh great, now you had her attention too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelce, of course, had the nerve to chuckle. 

If Rafe had spoken to them about being taken off the guest list, you’d lose it. The insolence of him mentioning your name—like he still had any right to talk about you? He should’ve buried the memory of you right along with whatever feelings he claimed to have had.

But then, if he hadn’t said a word about it to his best friends—that meant something worse. That meant he didn’t care. He was over it. Over you. 

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them that he wasn’t coming to the gala because he wasn’t thinking about it. Or about you. 

You hated either possibility. 

Kelce like the asshole he was, "I thought you two were—"

"Don't." You cut him off so fast, so hard, he had to take a step back. 

You wanted to grab Top by his clueless shoulders and demand answers. Did Rafe care? Was he coming tonight? You didn’t like any option—every scenario made you want to get on a plane to the other side of the world.  If he was planning to show up despite being cut from the list…Shit, what would you even do? You could feel the headache starting already. 

That would be so him, though.

The arrogance. The entitlement, ignoring boundaries because he never thought the rules applied to him.

Ruthie, of course, was still watching you like a hawk. Her eyes darted between you and Topper, and you could practically feel her mind working, trying to piece together whatever she thought she was seeing. She loved this. She lived for other people’s drama, and you knew she’d sniff out anything that didn’t look flawless.

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

"Ow, Jesus—what the hell?!" he yelped, stumbling to keep up with you in his shiny loafers as you all but hauled him into the nearest corner of the ballroom, out of sight, but still within earshot of the crowd. 

You didn’t care. Let someone see. Let them all see.

You turned to him, barely letting go of his ear, your nails tapping impatiently against your crossed arms. He looked at you like you’d lost your mind, and maybe you had.

“Spill it.”

He was still rubbing his ear. “What are you talking about?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Is he coming tonight? And don’t you dare lie to me, Top.”

He gulped. Actually gulped. You swore you could see the gears turning in that pretty, empty head of his, trying to figure out if he could weasel his way out of this.

“I— I don’t know, okay?” Topper stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to him today, but I figured… I mean, he always comes to these things, so I assumed—"

That meant Rafe didn’t tell him. That your little stunt hadn’t phased him in the slightest. 

“You assumed?” You leaned in closer, eyes burning holes into his skull. “After everything, you thought it was a good idea to just assume he’d show up and not even bother telling me?”

“I can’t put him on a leash!” His voice rose defensively, eyes wide like he was the one under attack. And yeah, maybe he was. Maybe you’d gone full psycho mode. Rafe always turned you into this—this furious, spiraling, out-of-control version of yourself.

Your cousin was just collateral damage.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe someone should.”  You said it slowly like you were explaining something to a child. “Do you even know what it’s like?” you hissed, leaning in closer, your voice dropping , “To sit here, wondering if he’s gonna show up like some ticking time bomb?”

Topper’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He didn’t know shit about what you were going through. How could he? He wasn’t the one with a whole life-changing secret burning a hole in his brain, wondering if the father of the child growing inside him was going to ruin everything—again.

“I—I didn’t think it was that serious,” Topper stammered, hands flying up in surrender. “I mean, he’s always been a dick, but—”

You remember the first thing he texted you after weeks of radio silence.

“No,” you interrupted, “He’s more than just a dick. He’s—” You stopped yourself before you said too much. God, you were on the edge, and you needed to rein it in. 

Topper, still looking like a kicked puppy, shifted on his feet. 

“Look, I’ll text him. I’ll ask if he’s coming or not, okay?” He pulled out his phone, typing something quickly. You watched him, arms crossed, tapping your foot against the marble floor like your life depended on it.  If you saw his face—his stupid, beautiful, infuriating face—you didn’t know what you’d do. 

Punch him? Scream? Run? The thought of him being here, so close, when you hadn’t even processed what was happening to you…

“Okay, he says—” He paused, squinting at his screen, “he’s not coming.”

The relief. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shoulders sagging for just a second before you caught yourself. He’s not coming.

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this... this thing inside you.

“See?” Topper said, holding up his phone like it was some peace offering. “He’s not coming. Crisis averted.” He gave you this awkward, nervous smile, like he thought you might hit him again.

You forced a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” you said through gritted teeth simultaneously smoothing your dress, and pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “Thanks, Top. Really. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not, but you didn’t care. The moment was over. You’d survived. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned away heading back toward your original group. Of course, Ruthie was still standing there her arms crossed, that smug little smirk on her face. She’d been watching the whole thing, no doubt about it. 

You could feel her nosy ass dissecting every single move you made. 

“He’s not here yet,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing just enough to piss you off. “Weird, right? Maybe he’s busy with Sofia.”

Of course, she brought up that fucking name. 

She was sniffing out blood in the water, as if she wasn’t just another Sarah Cameron knock-off. You could already picture it—the headlines, the whispers spreading through the audience, everyone talking about you. The legacy who ruined her own gala.

Kelce snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement, because of course he thought this was all a joke. He never got it. None of them did.

You wished, for just a second, that you weren’t born into this pristine, high-society life. You felt so smothered by these expectations. If you were anyone else, if you weren’t some debutante raised on champagne and etiquette, you’d have punched her right there. You’d have knocked her straight to the floor and wiped that pretentious smile off her face with blood in front of every stuck-up rich asshole in the room. 

“I didn’t realize we were talking about her,” you said, voice like sugar, even though you knew Ruthie could sense the underlying warning in it,“But thanks, Ruthie, for always keeping me updated on things that don’t concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down yet.

“Just making conversation. I mean, it is weird that he hasn’t shown up yet, right? Considering how close you two used to be. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

Kelce, that asshole, leaned in, "Come on, don't act like you’re over it." His eyes glanced down to your hand. "You’re shaking."

You were. You hadn’t even noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, you shot him a look that could've killed. "Fuck off, Kelce."

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

“Uh-huh,” Ruthie said, not buying a word of it. Her eyes flicked between you and Topper, and you knew what she was doing. She was fishing. “You sure about that? You were giving him a look.”

You glanced at your cousin, who was still rubbing his ear like a toddler. “Just sorting out some... logistics for the gala,” you said, voice saccharine, but it felt like chewing on glass. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She arched a brow, her lips curling up in a knowing grin. She knew something was off. She always did. “Right,” she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “Because for a second there, it looked like you were about to explode.”

She was monitoring you so closely, you could feel it crawling up your skin.

“You know,” she sighed, like she cared. “If something’s going on you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

That was rich. Ruthie, keeping a secret? You’d sooner trust a thief with your jewelry.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” you said, not keeping the sarcasm out of your voice. “But trust me, there’s nothing to tell.”

Ruthie’s pursed her lips, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to dig anything up, “Are you—”

You were two seconds away from shoving her into the nearest fountain. But instead, you took a deep breath, “You should worry less about me,” you advised her, “and more about that atrocious dress you’re wearing.”

The smile fell off her face so fast, it was glorious.

You didn’t wait for her to recover. You turned on your heel, and grabbed Topper by the arm.

As soon as you were far enough away, he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Jesus, I thought you were gonna deck her.”

You grinned, but there was no warmth in it. “I still might.”

He sighed, “She’s still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, downgrading seems like a thing for you boys.”

Like a guardian angel sent from above, Lily appeared, stepping between you two with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey,” she interrupted, glancing between you, “What was that about?”

You could see the caution in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid—Lily knew things between you and Rafe had been rocky, and she’d probably been sensing the tension the entire night. But right now, she was doing her best to defuse the earlier situation before it got any worse.

“Nothin’, just Ruthie being herself,” You dismissed, as you grabbed onto her forearm, “Let’s go.”

Lily blinked, startled by your urgency, but she didn’t argue. “Yeah, we should head backstage, the speech is coming up.”

“Bye Top. Stay the fuck away from the chocolate fountain.”

You could hear him whine in the back, “I did that shit once!”

Lily pulled you along through the ballroom, her arm linked with yours, quickening her pace to keep up with you as you nearly bolted toward the back of the venue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you bit out, though your voice didn’t even convince you. “I’m fine. I just need to get this speech over with.”

“Uh-huh,” She replied, clearly not convinced, but smart enough to drop it for now. “You got it, don’t worry.”

Finally, you made it to the side entrance that led backstage. The thick drapes and low lighting created a shield, giving you a small moment of privacy before the world demanded your attention again. 

Lily stood next to you, gently touching your arm, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can stall, or—”

“I have to,” you stopped her, rubbing a hand over your face, “I can’t—” You didn’t finish your sentence because you didn’t know how to say it. You had no choice.

Lily’s fingers squeezed your arm a little tighter. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “But I’m here if you need me.”

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

You appreciated her being here, really, but she was blissfully unaware of the pregnancy test in the trash can. 

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture, straightened your dress, and ran a hand through your hair, reminding yourself that you’d been here before. You’d stood on that stage so many times.

This wasn’t new. You just had to get through it. 

One more speech. One more night. You glanced at Lily, gave her a quick nod, and stepped through the final curtain. Back into the spotlight. Back into the role you’d perfected so well—put together, poised, untouchable.

The low murmur of the gathering hummed in your ears, growing louder with every second. You weren’t ready. You were never going to be ready.

You just needed to remember how to breathe.

The speech was printed and sitting in your hands, it felt like dead weight. You hadn’t even read through it since you’d finished it hours ago, and now, the thought of standing in front of all those people, pretending to have it together—it felt impossible.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Rafe. 

He said he wasn’t coming. Topper said he wasn’t coming. But there he was, standing there, watching you just like he always had. 

You hadn’t even meant to look. You didn’t do it on purpose, perhaps it was muscle memory, always searching for him. He was standing in the same spot he usually took. Like nothing had changed.

As if he hadn’t ripped you apart.

You tried to focus, but your heart was racing, thundering in your ears. 

How dare he? How fucking dare he? Instantly you were back there, that messy, intoxicating space you swore you’d never return to. The one where he controlled the air you breathed. He looked so good. Too good, really. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly, hair buzzed again. 

You should’ve guessed he’d find a way back here, even after everything. 

“Are you ready?” Lily whispered beside you, her voice pulling you back from the brink of a breakdown. 

“Yeah.”

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to look back at Rafe.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even pretending to look interested. He just stood there, his eyes locked on you, unreadable, unfathomable.

He was still watching you. It felt like could see through your polished exterior. He probably did. He knew you better than anyone else. You wondered what he saw—the confident girl who had always pulled off these events with ease or the terrified woman who was about to pass out from the pressure.

Then, he’s lips lifted slightly. That infuriating, devil-may-care almost there smirk that had made your heart stutter long before everything went to hell. It reminded you of nights spent tangled in sheets, whispers pressed against your skin under the cover of darkness, moments that felt like they belonged in a dream.

You wanted to throw the speech away and storm off the stage, leaving this whole night behind.

Instead, you cleared your throat and gripped the edges of the podium, the cool wood bringing you back to the world. 

The words were on the paper in front of you, but you didn’t need to look at them. You knew the speech by heart every year.  You’d written it yourself, after all—crafted it with care, knowing exactly what people needed to hear to make their checks bigger, to keep your father’s legacy alive.

It was just a matter of saying it without breaking.

A deep breath, and then you began.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”

Your voice sounded better than what you felt, and you leaned into that, letting it carry you through the first few lines.

“We gather here every year for the same reason—to celebrate the incredible work this foundation does, and to honor the legacy of those who came before us. This foundation isn’t just a charity; it’s a tribute. A way to remember those we’ve lost and to carry their dreams forward. It’s about giving back to a community that gave so much to us.”

You paused, just for a moment, glancing down at the speech in your hands, feeling the overwhelming crush of what you’re about to say next.

“For me, this has always been personal.” Your voice softened as you continued, “Most of you are aware I lost my family a few years ago. My father started this foundation. His vision was always to make sure that no one was left behind, that we take care of our own. My mother helped build it. And my sister…” You hesitated, remembering how faultless she’d been, “She was always the heart of it.”

The room was utterly still now, everyone listening intently. 

“Tonight, as I stand here, I can’t help but think about how proud they would be of what we’ve accomplished. At least, I hope they’d be proud.”

You allowed yourself a small, bittersweet smile.

“My dad would’ve been in his element, making sure everything was spotless. And my mom, well, she’d probably tell me that the curtains were horrid and needed to be replaced immediately.”

The crowd gave a light laugh, the tension in the room dissipating just a little. You smiled, a real one this time, for the first time in weeks, picturing your mother in her no-nonsense way, criticizing every decoration like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I miss them every day,” you added, “And I’m certain I’m not the only one in this room who’s experienced that kind of loss. It changes you. But it also reminds you to live in a way that makes them proud. And that’s what tonight is about, continuing their work, continuing their legacy, and making sure we do right by them.”

Your grip on the podium loosened, and you looked up, making eye contact with the audience. 

“So, to everyone here tonight—thank you. Thank you for believing in this cause. Thank you for your generosity, your support, and your kindness. And thank you for helping me keep their memory alive.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, the applause swelling around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

It was over. You did it.

Automatically, your eyes flickered up toward the back corner, the spot where Rafe was standing. You never needed to look before; you’d always just known he’d be there. It was his silent promise to you since you were sixteen. Every gala, every speech—no matter what happened between the two of you—he was there.

But he wasn’t there anymore. The space was empty.  

This was what you wanted, you didn’t need him anymore. You were going to get through this on your own. It was the first time he wasn’t there to catch you like he’d always been.

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

That stupid fucking warmth. 

His hand found your elbow as you and every nerve in your body screamed bloody murder. The applause was still buzzing in your ears, cameras flashing—none of it registered.

All you saw was him.

Three seconds. That was how close you were to snapping. Who the fuck let him in?

You yanked your arm away, the touch burning your skin like it was staining you. You didn’t say a word—just turned and headed straight for the back exit.

Behind you, you heard his footsteps.

Of course, he never knew when to stop, when to let you breathe.

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

You were already halfway down the hall, pulling off your earrings as you stormed toward your suite.

The fucking sheer audacity of this man. You couldn’t even process it—how he could stand there, with his fake-ass calm tone, chasing after you like you were the one being unreasonable.

You threw open the door to the suite you got ready in, the one that was supposed to be your sanctuary for the night and stepped inside, not bothering to close it behind you; you knew he was going to follow you in any way.

He was relentless like that.

You tossed the earrings onto the vanity and glanced up to see he was right behind you now, lingering in the doorway, as if unsure of how much further he could push before you exploded.

He looked at you like he was the victim in all this.

“Can you at least listen to me for a second?” It sounded like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

But that bite was so Rafe.

You spun around, your breath coming out harsh.

“Listen to you? Listen to you? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already pulling off your heels, the sharp tug at the straps doing nothing to calm your frustration.

He stood there, his eyes on you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him for more than a second without feeling the betrayal flooding your chest.

Rafe was rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way he did when he was frustrated.  “I came here because I didn’t want to leave things like that. I thought we could be civil—”

“Civil?” You nearly laughed, “You seriously think you can walk in here and be civil after everything?”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. He moved on his feet, stepping further into the room, and you saw it—the way he rolled his shoulders like he was already preparing himself for a fight.  “I came to apologize.”

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

Your hands stopped mid-motion, your necklace halfway off. You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Apologize for what, exactly?" 

“For calling you dramatic.” He exhaled like he was doing something noble by saying it. As if he was doing you a favor. “For that text. I was drunk, didn’t mean it.”

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her. 

You stared at him, completely floored. He was serious, he thought this was some kind of peace offering. The fact that he thought an apology for that would fix anything? Insane.

“You think this is about that?” You cackled, chucking one shoe to the side, not caring where it landed, and the other followed right after. “Oh my god, Rafe, you are so fucking clueless.”

His expression changed then, brows furrowed, “I’m trying to make things right,” he mutters. “I don’t want you out of my life, okay?”

You threw the necklace somewhere on the ground, your patience gone. “You were the one who pushed me away. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like we can just fix things because you finally feel bad about it.”

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”

Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

“I don’t want to be your friend!” You growled in his face, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his chest,  “I’d rather set myself on fire than be your friend, so you can take that chance and shove it up your ass.”

His hand came up to run along his head again, and you saw the way his fingers curled into his scalp like he was trying not to give in to his impulsive thoughts. His breathing was heavier now, too, chest rising and falling quickly.  

“Why are you being so difficult?” he snapped, and there it was—the familiar, accusatory edge in his voice. “After what you said about my dad—”

The reason.

The thing that broke you two this time, the thing he’d been holding over your head. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the one thing he hadn’t let go of.

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head. 

“You’re gonna bring that up right now?” Your voice was so quiet it nearly scared you. “After all the shit you’ve put me through, that’s what you’re mad about?”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

But Sofia did, right? 

That was fucking hilarious. She didn’t grow up listening to Ward’s bullshit. Didn’t see the kind of things he’d say or did to his oldest child. 

Of course, she would take his side. She didn’t know better. 

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

For a moment, the air went deadly still between you. You could sense his hurt, the way it sneaked between every bitter word.

Then, he did it—the thing you knew he would, that thing that made your blood boil. 

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

Your whole body went borderline rigid, like a door, locked in place.

He was standing there, offering you friendship like a pity prize, calling you jealous when you were standing there broken, trying not to fall apart because of him.

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

Ouch. But you could do worse. 

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

"At least she doesn’t care about any of this," he snapped, gesturing to the glittering gala that surrounded you both. "She’s not obsessed with keeping up appearances.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. He must’ve forgotten to look in the mirror today.

"God, you’re so delusional. Do you think I wanted any of this?” You shot him a look that could cut through steel. "I’m not the one faking it. You are. You are still so desperate for Daddy’s approval that you can’t even see what a fucking mess you are."

Rafe's hands flexed at his sides, his fingers twitching. His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth like he always did when he was trying to stay calm.”

"I’m not afraid of who I am," His lips barely moved as he spoke, rolling his shoulders back again, standing to his full height. "You spend so much time trying to be perfect, you don’t even know who you are anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, like a predator sizing you up, his eyes locked on yours. You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath as he tried to keep his composure.

You took a step closer, your chest brushing against his, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. His gaze flicked downward, scanning your face.

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a sharp breath through his nose, staring you down with a look that was all Rafe—volatile, unreadable, on the edge of breaking.

Right then and there, Lily burst into the room, her wide eyes taking in the scene like a bomb had just gone off.

"Okay! What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp but layered with concern. “I could hear you two in the hallway. If something happened, this is not the place to deal with it.”

 “You wanna know what happened, Lily?” you started, almost laughing with disbelief. “This motherfucker started seeing someone behind my back. Two months—two fucking months—with no real closure, no answers. And he’s off fucking some pogue.”

“It’s not like that,” He scoffed, pointing a finger in your direction as he took a few steps back, "Don't drag Sofia into this.”

His posture screamed defensiveness, and all you could think was how much you hated the way he said her name. It made you want to throw up, it felt like someone was taking a rusty nail and dragging it down your spine. 

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

You were the one who had been there through all his bullshit, you were the one who held him together when everything in his life was falling apart. Now, suddenly, she was the one he spoke about softly. Like she mattered.

It was insulting. 

“Guys!”

Lily stepped between you both, throwing her hands up as if she were separating two wild animals about to rip each other apart.

“Please, please calm down. Rafe, I think you should leave. Now."

He looked like he wanted to say more, you knew he had a million things screaming at him beneath the surface, but for once, he stayed silent. Maybe it was the fact that Lily was there, or maybe he finally realized you weren’t going to bite into his bullshit excuses and provocations.

Whatever it was, he took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, storming past Lily and out of the room.

You could hear the distant sound of the door slamming as he left.

The moment he was gone, you felt your breath coming out in shallow gasps. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your pulse racing.

Lily turned to you; her face full of concern. She reached out and grabbed your shoulders gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice soothing, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, your breath hitching. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his kid, and this was what you got in return.

No peace. No calm. 

Your chest tightened, your vision blurring.  

“Hey, hey,” She cooed again, her hands on your arms, grounding you. “You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out. Just breathe, okay?”

You couldn’t believe you’d let it get this far—couldn’t believe you were even in this situation.

There was no way you were having his kid.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even have to think about it. The decision had been made the second he’d defended her and insulted you like you were sidewalk littering.

Tomorrow, you’d take care of it. You’d book the appointment and that would be that. Clean break, no more ties to Rafe Cameron, no more staying in that fucked up twisted cycle with him.

“I really think you need to sit down and breathe for a second. You’re scaring me sweetheart, and honestly, this isn’t good for you.”

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

Your designer dress clung to you in all the wrong ways, as if even the fabric could understand the order going changes in your body. 

“Whoever let him in, I want them fired.”

You spat suddenly gaining momentary strength to ruin lives. It wasn’t just a demand; it was an execution order. 

The quiet threat of it was more terrifying than your screaming would have been. 

Tomorrow, you’d make sure this nightmare ended before it could begin. 

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[divadivine13]

List The Places To Buy Hair Wigs And Hair Extensions Online In India

Whether you like to straighten your hair, pin it, curl it, or braid it, hair can be very personal to you, and it’s a big part of your identity. Hair can be associated with femininity and self-worth for women, So what happens when you lose your hair? During alopecia, female pattern hair loss, autoimmune diseases, trauma, or cancer, treatments such as chemotherapy, wigs, extensions, and hairpieces can be a way to rebuild their relationship with their strands. “Wigs are all about confidence,” confirms Manav Mehra, Managing Partner of Diva Divine Wigs. “The emotional elements of living with hair loss can be challenging, so wig hair pieces can help heal that,” he says.

Hair wigs and extensions are fantastic techniques to change your look and add volume to your natural hair. Many online shops and verified sellers in India sell high-quality hair wigs and extensions. Here is a list of some of the best places to buy hair wigs and extensions online in India:

1 Hair Stop :

This website is ideal if you’re looking for a trendy wig or hairpiece — you’ll find styles with balayage, face-framing highlights, and various cuts and textures. After exporting Remy human hair wigs and extensions globally, the founders decided to fill the gap in the Indian market by creating hair wigs, crown pieces, and toppers that work for the Indian hair type and skin type.

Diva Divine Hair :

This online store is the most popular brand in the Indian market. They also make customized products based on the hair of the customer. They are also known for their wide range of hair wigs and extensions. They offer 100% Remy human hair wigs and attachments and synthetic wigs in different lengths, colors, and styles. So you can easily buy extensions, hair pieces, and wigs online and at their salons in New Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru, & Hyderabad. At the offline stores, a team is available to help you find your perfect hairpiece, and they can teach you how to wear, care for, and style the hair, which can be set and styled to your needs.

Wigs Design India :

This store, located in Bengaluru, has a wide variety of merchandise to suit different price ranges and needs. For those on a low budget, whether you’re simply testing it out only or need it temporarily, non-Remy human hair wigs are a good call. These hair wigs or pieces contain hair from additional sources, unlike remy hair wigs, which have hair from the common source. Non-Remy hair features unaligned roots, which means more care to keep it shiny, but keeps the costs low. They also offer at-home trials and demos for first-timers.

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This Mumbai-based offline and online store boasts only Indian virgin hair wigs and toppers, known internationally for their luster and strength. Full cap wigs, tape-on wigs, and clip-on silk wigs are available, so you can explore one that fits your hair type, needs, and lifestyle.

Kaba Wig Shop :

Conclusion.

When you shop for hair wigs and extensions online in India, it’s important to read customer reviews and check the return policy before making a purchase. Make sure to also check the authenticity of the product before buying it. With the options mentioned above, you can find the perfect hair wig or extension to suit your style and needs.

[haircarecetres-blog]

Where to Buy Mens Wigs? | Hair Care Centres

Mens wigs can be purchased from a variety of places, both in-store and online. One of the most popular places to buy mens wigs is at a wig store or hair replacement center. 

These specialized shops have a wide selection of wigs in various styles, colors, and materials, and their staff can help customers find the right wig to suit their needs and preferences.

 Some wig stores also offer custom-made wigs, which can be tailored to fit the individual's head size and shape. In addition to physical stores, mens wigs can also be purchased online from various retailers and e-commerce websites.

 Online wig stores offer a wide selection of wigs and hairpieces in various price ranges and styles, and often provide detailed product descriptions, customer reviews, and sizing information to help customers make informed decisions.

 When buying mens wigs, it is important to consider factors such as the quality of the hair, the construction of the wig, and the method of attachment, as well as the seller's reputation and return policy. 

By doing research and shopping around, men can find the right wig to suit their needs and budget, whether they choose to buy from a physical store or an online retailer.

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[hairextensionsandwigsposts]

Online shopping has become the norm these days, and there are several websites that sell human hair extensions. You can find discounted and mixed bundles of extensions on these sites. There are several types of extensions like Indian hair extensions and clip in hair extensions.

[silkylovey]

false reputation?

Rafe Cameron is the typical frat boy with blond hair and blue eyes. His reputation was known everywhere on campus. Cocky, an ass but he was amazing in bed. Every girl that got the ‘chance’ to sleep with him always gave him a good review as if he was a sex worker.

Y/n on the other side was just a calm student, who worked during her free time. Her family was not poor but not the richest. She worked in a restaurant and spend most of her hours there with her friend and also her co-worker Brook.

She was walking up to her class when she noticed Rafe being dabbed up by his friends after one of his other hookups that were a stupid bet by his friends.

Y/n thought that made she should feel what the hype was about and if he could fulfill her sexual desires.

---

Y/n and her friend Delilah went to the Halloween party of Rafe’s frat. Y/n and Lilah matched in their sexy bunny costumes. Today was the day that Y/ would try to get laid by Rafe.

She and Lilah went to the kitchen. Topper eyed Lilah up and down and that was Lilah’s queue to leave.

“Friend ditched you?” a dark voice invited itself in her ear. Y/n turned around and she was met with Rafe Cameron.

“Yeah, wanna dance?” she didn’t know from where this confidence came maybe from the booze. He grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor. Around them people were making out, sniffing coke, drinking, and grinding on each other.

---

Y/n

You started rolling your hips and pushing your bum into him, you could hear him groan in your ear.

“Wanna take this to my room or are you going to keep teasing, princess?” he asked with a lot of lust.

You told him to show you the way and not even 5 seconds later you were thrown over his shoulder. His friends started cheering when they saw who he was going to shag. When you entered his room, he put you on your feet and started kissing you and you greedily accepted.

He then led you to his bed where he started taking off his clothes and your clothes. He was well built and his dick was aching.

He didn’t do foreplay, he just positioned himself in front of your entrance and he started pounding in you. He kept kissing your neck leaving love bites and hickeys but he couldn’t get you over the edge. You were almost there but you thought that he would maybe touch your clit but no. He just kept penetrating you and kept whispering dirty words in your ears.

Why was he overhyped if he couldn’t make you cum?

His orgasm came quite quickly and you wanted to leave this house as soon as you could.

After he washed you up and kissed you, he went back to his friends downstairs. You decided to put your costume back on and just leave.

He saw you leave and he also saw how you looked disgusted and shocked. He wanted to run after you but he wasn’t that type of guy.

If people saw Rafe running after a girl, they would make his reputation go down in a bad way.

---

Rafe

A few days after I hooked up with Y/n, people started to look at me funnily as if I had a mustache drawn on my face.

Topper came up to me and said “So you couldn’t make a girl finish, never expected that from you.”

What? I could make every girl finish, doesn’t matter what she liked.

“Who?” I asked him.

“Y/n”

I’ve spent my whole day on campus trying to find her, I even skipped my classes just to have a chat with her.

I finally did find her in an empty classroom.

---

You looked up to see Rafe looking at you with a glare. “What?”

“So how was the sex?” he asked bluntly.

“Do you want my honest opinion or just a lie?”

“Please be honest with me”

“Okay well, what we had at your party wasn’t sex. I didn’t even cum, after I left the party I went home and made myself finish. I never thought that the sex king could not make a girl cum,” you made air quotes when you said sex kind.

“Tell me what I did wrong, please tell me.”

“Well for starters there was no foreplay, and then you didn’t even touch my clit once,” I told him and he looked disappointed in himself.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“No, you had your chance.”

“Do you not want to experience a good orgasm, doll?”

Yes, you did so you just gave in.

He got on his knees and leaned forward towards your jogging. He grabbed the waistline and pulled it down. He was met with your red lace panties. He could come at sight.

Rafe hooked his fingers around the waistline of your panties and pulled them down. “Fuck, how could I have missed out on this? I bet you taste amazing.”

And with that, he dove into your pussy, licking, nibbling your clit. Fucking with his tongue and boy was he good at it.

He started fingerfucking you and you felt close. “I am close baby,” you told him and he just went harder. You were so close that you started grinding against his face and he let you.

After your orgasm, you stood up to take your panties but you were pulled down by Rafe who has taken your place. His pants and underwear were long forgotten.

He pulled you down and inserted himself in you and then he started trusting upwards while rubbing your clit with 2 fingers.

“You close, baby? Squeezing me so tight fuck.” You just nodded being overwhelmed by your second orgasm. He kissed your neck as you were cumming around his dick and a few seconds later he milked out in you.

“Let me take you out on a date?” he asked while he was still inside of you.

“And if you don’t like it then we won’t ever go out again. But if you do I promise to fuck you like this and even better.” He smiled in your neck.

“Okay, Rafe.”

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Reader x Doctor Strange

Summary: Okay, so I was watching Doctor Strange last week, and this scene came up and I just-

Stephen and his apprentice Y/N join the Avengers at Stark Tower. A friendly competition ensues where the sorcerers’ musical knowledge is put to the test. Yes, they’re only friends, but Y/N feels something more for her mentor. Will hidden affections finally come to light through a bit of music?

Of course, Tony, Natasha, Peter, Clint, Thor, Bruce, Steve, and Wanda all have a little something to say... yeah, essentially the whole gang.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

We’ll put out to sea

and we’ll perfect our chemistry.

And by and by we’ll defy

A little bit of gravity...

“‘Kokomo’, released July 1988 by The Beach Boys. Album title; Still Cruisin’. Really Stark, I thought you said it would be a hard one this time.”

Tony paused the stereo, and turned to Stephen, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“Yeah, no. Sorry Strange, ‘Kokomo’ was actually released November 1988. Nice try though.”

Before Tony could get too excited, Y/N piped up from her spot by Stephen’s side. “That’s where you’re wrong. While the song may have become a chart topper in November 1988 after serving in Buena Vista’s Cocktail soundtrack, it actually debuted four months earlier in July.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Crap, she’s right.” Natasha laughed, turning her phone around to show the song’s details.

“How do you two even remember all this junk?” Wanda asked incredulously.

“It’s because they’re both weirdos. It’s no kidding they get along so well.” Clint joked, picking at his nails.

Stephen turned to Y/N and smiled before squeezing her shoulder kindly. “I’d be lost without my apprentice,” he said with a wink. She returned a quick smile of her own before turning away to hide a foolish grin that was forming on her face.

It was another Friday night, and the Avengers had gathered at Stark Tower to review battle plans for their mission the next day. Despite Bruce Banner’s best efforts though, strategizing was soon forgotten, and everyone began chatting instead.

As the night wore on, Stephen Strange and his apprentice had astounded everyone with their vast musical knowledge, and the night’s goal had become finding a song to ‘stump the wizards’.

One by one, each Avenger would suggest a song from their spot at the war table. Peter played ‘Midnight Memories’, Natasha chose ‘Back in Black’, even Thor tried his luck with ‘Toxic’. Despite their best efforts though, the sorcerers knew each and every song title, release date, and artist, almost like they were perfectly synchronized.

Stephen and Y/N had become nearly inseparable within the last eight months. When Y/N first arrived at Kamar-Taj the year prior, it was clear that she had the makings of a brilliant sorcerer. She promptly surpassed the other students in spell work and training, soon catching the attention of Doctor Strange himself. Stephen was quick to take her under his wing and serve as a mentor.

Now they fought, trained, and practiced the mystic arts together. They had become so close, that against her better judgment, Y/N began harbouring an epic crush on her mentor.

“I guess it’s my turn.” Steve laughed, running his fingers through his hair.

“You’re our last hope Cap, they’ve guessed every song. If you don’t choose a really hard one, we might have to kick you off the team.” Natasha teased.

“No pressure though, Mr Rogers, Sir. You’re awesome.” Peter assured him with a wide smile.

“Alright, thanks kid,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure he needed that.”

“Back to my roots I guess,” Steve decided with a shrug. “My parents used to like this one. Let’s see how you two do with it.”

Stephen leaned in close to whisper in Y/N’s ear. “I think we can take the old man. Just one more round and we’re champions.”

“Stephen,” Y/N began with a breathy laugh, “Quit making me nervous... and tell your cloak to relax,” she said, gesturing to the agitated cloak of levitation that was flapping about as the game progressed.

Stephen only gave a slight chuckle before sitting back and clearing his throat. He turned to Steve and gave him a sharp look. “Bring it on, Captain.”

Y/N felt a shiver travel down her neck at his words. She could still feel the phantom touch of his breath against her skin from when he had leaned in and whispered to her. She turned to look at him, and smiled at the face that had become so comfortably familiar to her this past year. If only he felt the same way she thought with a twinge of sadness.

Stephen turned and saw Y/N’s look of dismay. “You alright there?” He asked, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She gasped before answering back as coolly as she could manage. “Definitely! I guess the competition is getting to me, is all. Let’s do this!”

He nodded and turned back to the table.

“Ready, you two?” Steve asked

“Shoot, Rogers.”

Tony passed Steve a remote to the stereo. Everyone waited in anticipation as he pressed a button, and the music started playing.

The Dutch in old Amsterdam do it,

Not to mention the Finns.

Folks in Siam do it;

Think of Siamese twins...

Y/N listened to the old timey tune and grinned. Steve wasn’t kidding when he said he’d go back to his roots, this song was from the 1920’s! A song of his childhood, surely.

Some Argentines

Without means do it.

People say in Boston

even beans do it...

“1928, Cole Porter.” Stephen started confidently. “It debuted in Porter’s first Broadway musical, Paris. Great choice Steve,” he added with a wink.

“Slow down, Wizard. You have yet to give us the song title.” Thor called out from behind a mug of beer.

Stephen turned to Y/N and granted her a mischievous grin, his eyes glinting with humour. “Y/N?”

The apprentice bounced in her seat, excited that she knew the answer. “Let’s do it! Let’s fall in love!” She called out, hugging Stephen.

He pulled out of her embrace and locked eyes with her. “I already have,” he said in a low voice, before pulling her in for a kiss.

Y/N tensed with surprise as Strange leaned forward, lips against her own. After a moment though, she melted into his touch, deepening the kiss, and smiling at the faint prickle of his beard against her skin.

“I love you Stephen,” she whispered hoarsely, not daring to pull away quite yet.

“I know,” he responded, smiling against her lips.

“Oh great. The wizards are in love.” Tony deadpanned from across the room.

That was enough to make them part. Stephen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and Y/N gave an embarrassed cough once they realized that the Avengers were all gawking.

“So, that was unexpected.” Bruce said with a quiet laugh.

“Mr Stark, what just happened?” Peter asked incredulously.

“Great question. Steve?”

“Well, they got it right. The song’s called ‘Let’s do it (Let’s fall in love).’”

Wanda giggled from her seat. “Well, you two took that literally.”

“Alright guys,” Clint chuckled. “Let’s give these two some privacy.”

With that, the Avengers filed out, whooping and clapping before leaving the room.

“To love!” Thor toasted before being dragged out by Bruce.

“Congratulations!” Peter called out from behind Natasha.

Tony was the last to leave. “I hope you two know how sickening you are,” he said sarcastically. He paused for a moment, then quirked a brow, “Keep it up.”

“Thanks Stark.”

Tony winked before leading himself out.

The door finally closed, leaving Stephen and Y/N alone together.

Stephen took both of Y/N’s hands in his, and smiled. “Well, that was sufficiently awkward. Anyway, what would you say if I suggested we kiss again?”

Y/N gave his hands a squeeze. “I’d say, let’s do it!”

Let’s fall in love...

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Try reading To The Daisy!!!

“I’d be lost without my apprentice”... see what I did there *eh*??

Oh, in case your interested, here’s my favourite rendition of Cole Porter’s Let’s do it (Let’s fall in love), it’s great!!

Something about Thor listening to ‘Toxic’ just makes me so happy. Oh, and Peter is totally a Directioner. Anyway, what songs do you guys think suits each Avenger????? Now I’m curious.

So this was my first Avengers fic. *yay!* Anyway, I’ll be off now. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

HAVE A BRILLIANT DAY!!!

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 6)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader  / Topper x Female!Reader  

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Swearing, mild smut, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse (wow a lot) 

Part Summary: The aftermath of the bonfire is pushing you to your limit. Meanwhile, JJ is slowly losing himself in his grief. 

Masterlist

You and Topper meet your friends at the Ocean Club for lunch as arranged over text after the chaos at the Boneyard. You, Rafe, Rhett, Kelce, and Topper are all gathered around the table on the patio of the club. Despite looking put-together, you're all discombobulated in the head. All of your Kook friends are startled, to say the least by the events. More than half of them have never been close to a gun and all of them share a hatred of Pogues. 

Your brother Rhett invited his "friend" Crystal.  She's been fawning after him since their freshman year. They hooked up one time and she was practically picking out an engagement ring. She hangs around Rhett, Rafe, and all of their friends, hoping one of them would show a slight bit of interest. Her bottle black hair and bottle tan scream more New Jersey than OBX, but she throws on a Lily Politzer dress calls herself a Kook. She's always been low-key intimidated by you and envious even. She wants your title of the Princess of the OBX, but she struggles to get past being an associate. In summary, Crystal thinks acting like a stuck-up brat is how to be a Kook. She's delusional.

"Last night was unreal,” Kelce exhales deeply as he leans back in his chair. 

“You know how Pogues can be,” Topper remarks bitterly, placing his arm across your shoulders. 

"Where were you last night?" Rafe questions your brother from down the table. 

"My dad had me in Charleston on business," Rhett explains with a roll of his eyes. 

Crystal places her hand on Rhett's arm, giving it a supportive squeeze. The sight nearly makes you gag. Never in a million years will you call her your sister-in-law. 

"Lucky you," Kelce chuckles. 

"Yeah you really dodged a bullet," Rafe makes a pun. 

"Nice Rafe," Topper nods his head slowly, giving his friend a disapproving look. 

You toss around bits of lettuce around your salad, not exactly hungry. You wouldn't be here right now if Topper didn't already say you two were coming. It's not that you dislike your friends. You just don't feel like a review of last night and a Pogue roast session. Topper notices your lack of voice and interest in the group. He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, gaining your attention. You offer him a weak smile, your mind elsewhere. 

“At least Maybank has what’s coming to him. Apparently, the police are looking for him," Crystal announces to the table. 

Your fork slips from your hand accidentally, causing everyone to stare at you. “Wait, what?!" You glance between the girl and Topper to see if it's true. Topper doesn't react despite seeing your worried expression. Did Topper already know this? Did he not tell you? 

Rafe frowns at your reaction and his flicker to Topper before he answers. “Yeah, people told their parents what happened and the parents reported the incident to the police," he explains hesitantly. 

"As they should!” Crystal adds with a scoff of disgust, wearing a smug expression. “Who knows what that good-for-nothing white trash would’ve done to us if given the chance!" She justifies from across the table. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Crystal!” You snap. 

Everyone's jaws drop, astounded that such a vile sentence could come from your lips. 

“Ugh! Excuse me?!” Crystal gasps. 

You lean forward in your chair, turning your body to face the entitled girl. 

“What? Are you deaf all of a sudden?" You wear a mocking grin. "Wouldn’t be surprised with your big loud fucking mouth going constantly!” 

“What’s up your ass Whitfield?!” She fires back, drawing the attention of some other patrons. 

“Your piece of shit attitude!” You bark. 

"Ohh," Kelce drags out. 

"Wow," Rafe struggles to hide his amusement. 

Topper places a warning hand on your shoulder which you shake off. 

“Why are you defending him? He pulled a gun on Topper! On you!” Crystal reminds you in a shout. 

“I know that, Genius! Considering I was on the other side of said gun!” You hiss between your teeth. 

“Then what possible justification is there for what he did?" She huffs. "JJ Maybank is insane! A trash Pogue!” 

You slap your palms against the table, making everything raddle. “No, he’s not!” 

"Y/N!" Your brother warns. "Remember where you are!" 

You don't give a shit about where you are! If this girl continues to run her mouth, you're going to do a lot worse than yell. 

“What? What is it about him, huh?" Crystal presses with a wicked smirk. "A charity thing? Wealthy guilt? Rooting for the underdog?” 

“Crystal!” Rafe barks her name defensively. 

“What?” The girl giggles. "It's true, isn't it? She's got a thing for the bottom feeder!" 

“Back off!” Topper warns her, finally backing you up. He may agree with her, but once she starts making digs at you he doesn't hesitate to put her in her place. 

Then, a lightbulb snaps on in her head. “Oh wait... or is it that you have the hots for him? Have you officially run out of guys on this side of the island? You a Pogue whore now?” She laughs mockingly. 

Having enough of her, you impulsively pick up your full glass of white wine and toss it in her face. She gasps as the liquid covers her, her mouth in the shape of an "O." The boys' jaws hit the table as all they can do is watch you toss your drink at her white tube top. 

"Y/N!" Topper utters your name in shock. This is nothing like you. You never lose your cool. You're always the calm and put together one of your friends. 

"You bitch!" Crystal nearly cries. "This is designer!" 

You groan, tossing your head back. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!" 

“JJ Maybank should be sent to jail with his dad and if he rotted in there I doubt anyone would miss him!” Crystal remarks with a snarky smirk. 

That's it! Without a second thought, you fly up from your chair, causing it to toss backward onto the floor. You leap across the full table, reaching your arms out for the girl. Kelce and Rafe move out the way as Crystal screams. Glasses and silverware fall off the table onto the wood-paneled floor patio floor. Topper moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back, but not before you get a good slap across her face. 

“Woah, Woah, Woah there!” He pants, struggling to get a good hold on you. 

“Let me go!” You scream, wiggling in his arms. 

“Nope, not letting you get arrested today,” he grunts, stepping backward away from the table. 

“You crazy whore!” Crystal yells, holding her cheek. 

 “You’re calling me a whore? That’s ironic considering your name is Crystal! You were practically named for the corner, bitch!” You fire back, tossing up your middle fingers at her while Topper drags you toward the exit. 

“Damn!” Kelce laughs, covering his mouth to hide it. 

You don't care who's watching. Crystal had this coming a long time ago and she's pushed your patience to its limit the moment she touched JJ. She'll know now to never speak of him. 

“Fuck you, Y/N!” Crystal screams one last time. 

Rhett grabs her arm, quietly begging for her to stop. He's certainly pissed at your impolite actions and will likely run to tell your parents. 

“No thanks! I’m not into insecure, loudmouth, prostitutes!” You snap out one final dig before Topper gets you out the door. 

You never noticed Pope cleaning a table just yards away, you were pretty preoccupied. He watched in awe as you quite literally flew across the table and slapped a girl because she spoke wrongly about JJ. After Pope saw you with Topper, he wasn't sure what to think. He was just as confused by your relationship as JJ. The turn of events he's just witnessed sealed the deal in his mind, you're in love with JJ, whether you know it or not. 

________________________________

After his shift at the Club, Pope immediately went to John B's, knowing that's where his friends would be waiting to go out on the HMS Pogue. 

“You guys! You’ll never believe what happened at work today!” He rushes out as he jogs down the dock. 

“All the Kooks got swallowed up by the ocean?” JJ remarks bitterly in a grumble as he lounges on the front of the boat in his swim trunks

“No!” He pants as he slows to a stop. “Y/N and Crystal got into this huge fight!” 

“What?!” John B gasps. 

“What do you mean? Is she okay?!” Kiara questions as she helps Pope onto the boat. 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, but it was insane!" Pope laughs in amazement. 

“What about?” Sarah inquires, eager to learn more. 

“JJ!" Pope explains with the utmost enthusiasm. "Crystal was talking shit and the next thing I know Y/N throws her drink in her face and jumps at her. She slaps the hell out of her! Topper literally had to carry her out!” 

“Holy shit,” John B mutters, wide-eyed. 

“God I would’ve paid big bucks to see that,” Kiara chuckles. 

“I can’t even envision Y/N doing something like that,” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief. 

“I know, she’s usually so polite, calm, civilized," Kiara lists. 

“You should’ve seen her guys. It was so badass. Lesson learned, don’t piss of Y/N!" Pope settles down on the bench beside Kiara. 

“It was over me?” JJ finally voices quietly. 

Pope hums. “Crystal wouldn’t stop and Y/N told her to “shut the fuck up.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Y/N swear,” Sarah admits. 

 “That’s because she rarely does,” John B adds. 

“So she’s not pissed at me?” JJ questions, his tone steady and expressionless. 

“Based on how she was going to claw a girl’s eyes out in your defense, I vote no,” Pope determines. 

JJ stands up in a rush, moving to hop down into the boat. “Well, where did she go after that? Did Topper take her home or did she-" 

“She went looking for you,” you call out from the opposite end of the dock. 

Everyone's heads snap in your direction. All of their eyes are wide with surprise. They all smile, honestly glad to see you. JJ, however, just stares blankly with an unreadable reaction. 

“Hi JJ,” you greet timidly, doing your best to smile but you fall short. 

The boy never breaks his eye contact with you as he jumps off the boat. He marches toward you and you're not sure what to expect. You haven't spoken since last night and you wouldn't exactly call that a conversation. "What do you want? Come to gloat?" He sasses. 

“Okay, that’s our cue!” John B announces, starting up the engine. 

“Yep! We'll catch you guys later!” Pope rushes out. 

“Good to see you Y/N!” Sarah adds.

The Pogues desert JJ, leaving you two to work out your problems. JJ doesn't even turn around or react in the slightest as John B hurries the boat away. An ounce of you wonders if it's because he wants to stay, to talk to you. 

Your eyes flicker down to his chest and torso. The bruises you saw last night as a tad more healed, but still, look awful. Now that his body is more exposed, you start to notice more marks and cuts all over his arms, chest, ribcage. The sight makes your heart sink. Without thought, you place your hand on JJ's stomach. "Did Top do this?" You worry. JJ's muscles clench under your touch. The feeling of your fingertips glide across his bare torso makes him go weak in the knees. 

"No, got into a fight with a bobcat. You should see the bobcat," he smirks slightly, making light of the situation. 

Your face falls as your eyes meet his. "Don't joke-" 

"Sorry!" He steps back. "Can't take you seriously when everything you say is a lie," he scoffs. 

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "What are you even saying right now?!" 

"It was all bullshit!" He snaps. "All of it! Everything you said! You're no different than the rest of them!" He exhales deeply, taking a moment to stare at you. He immediately regrets yelling considering how guilty he felt after what he did last night. Yet, JJ's hurt and he's pent up these emotions for days now. They're driving him nuts. "You lie, cheat, you take what you want when you want it no matter the consequences or who you hurt!" 

"I never lied to you, JJ!" You defend, equally as passionate as him. "Every fucking word was true!" JJ's brows rise slightly at your use of language. It appearing so foreign coming from your mouth. You sigh, "Jesus, JJ you can be so oblivious sometimes!" You turn on your heels, marching back down the dock toward the yard. 

"At least I'm not playing both sides of the fence! I know what I want and where I belong!" JJ fires. 

You whip your head over your shoulder and stomp back toward him. "You freaking psycho!" 

"Psycho! How am I a psycho?" JJ laughs, astonished. 

"You pulled a gun!" You remind him. 

"He was drowning me, Y/N!" JJ screams, getting in your face. You swallow hard. Despite the intensity of your arguing, you can't help but feel a rush of satisfaction having JJ so close again. JJ looks to the side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not gonna be your little plaything while you wait on Topper of all people to fuck you again," he shakes his head, meeting your gaze again. "I won't do it." 

Your lips part, not believing the words coming from him right now. "Fuck you, JJ," you hiss between your teeth before turning again to walk away. JJ stays where he is and watches you stomp away. A part of him wants to beg you to stay, the other tells himself that you deserve everything he's saying. 

You come to a slow stop as your mind races. You're Y/N Whitfield, you don't have to take this shit, especially from JJ Maybank of all people. You spin on your heels and JJ glances up as you do. "For someone so smart you're an idiot!" You clench your jaw. "Topper is my best friend, that's it!" You reason. "Whatever Sarah told you, that was before I met you! He could never be you!" 

JJ simply stares at you blankly. The silence kills you. One minute he won't shut up and the next he stands there like an idiot. 

"The way I feel when I'm with Topper..." you sigh, unsure how to describe it. You're not entirely what to call it. "It's comfortable, sure, but it's not anything glorious. There's no excitement there, just a sense of security from knowing each other for so long." You hesitate to continue, but since you'll probably never speak again, you might as well lay everything out on the table right? "You don't even have to touch me, your glance is enough to make me feel alive. When I went to bed, I thought of you. When I woke up, I thought of you. You're... you're it for me, JJ. I can't imagine there's anything better than when I'm with you. But... I guess we already fucked it up didn't we?" 

There's a pause between shots and you prepare to walk away from JJ forever. Then, something in him sets off and he starts rushing up to you. Startled, you begin to shuffle back. 

"What are you doing?" You question, placing a hesitant hand up. 

"Showing you how much of an idiot I really am," he replies swiftly as he brings his hands up to cup your face. 

He pauses for a second, looking at you with hooded eyes. You lose all capability of breathing, melting into his hands. You glance down at his parted lips, waiting for what's next. JJ smashing his lips to yours hungrily. Without hesitation, you reciprocate the action, combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.

 You meant every word. Being with Topper can be great and there's so much history there. Yet, being with JJ is entirely different. It's new. It's organic. It's what keeps you awake at night in the best way. You imagine exploring every inch of his body and never letting go. 

JJ breaks from you, pressing his lips to your forehead as his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry, Baby, for everything!" He whispers against your cheek before planting a kiss there. 

"Me too," you reply. 

He pulls back, meeting your gaze. "I don't think you're a slut." 

You laugh, "I sure hope not!"  

"You're too good for me," he shakes his head as he still wonders if this is all in his imagination. 

"Quite the opposite actually," you debate. 

"No, don't say that." He shakes his head frantically, hating it when you speak badly about yourself. "You're everything to me!" 

You place your hands over his on your cheek and plant a kiss on his palm, making JJ totally simp for you. 

"Do you... would you maybe wanna have a little hot tub night?" The boy asks nervously, still kinda unsure of himself when it comes to you. 

"I'd love that," you smile, wanting to spend every moment with him from this day forever. 

_____________________________

Settling in the hot tub, JJ tugs at the rim of your panties, pulling you to sit across his lap. You drape your arms on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his. 

"Are you warm enough?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Hum as your eyes falls shut, pondering the closeness. 

"You're so soft and warm. You're like a human Pillow Pet," he comments with a slight snicker. 

"Excuse me?" You lift your head to look at him. 

"Minus the furry part," he elaborates. 

"You're such a goof." You laugh, placing your palm against his head and pushing it away playfully. 

"Only for you, Baby," JJ grins. 

You place a quick peck on his lips before shifting to move off of his lap. 

JJ pouts, letting out a minor whine. "Uh uh, don't leave." 

"I'm just grabbing my drink," you giggle at his childlike expression. As you take a sip from your beer, you can feel JJ watching you. You glance over your shoulder and sure enough, his eyes remain locked on your ass. "You're starring," you smirk. 

"You bet your amazing ass I am," he mumbles, reaching across the water and grabbing your ass, giving it a squeeze. 

"JJ!" You gasp, swatting his hand away. 

He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jaw as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you back to him. "Couldn't help myself! It was practically begging for a squeeze." 

"Right..." You nod, straddling his lap. 

As an act of retaliation, you press your palm to the center of his boxers, making the boy jolt lightly from surprise. 

"Holy shit," he swallows hard. 

"Couldn't help myself, it was practically begging for it," you smirk, repeating his words. 

"You're too good to be true," he whispers, bringing his lips closer to yours. 

"Dido," you grin, leaning in to kiss him. 

_____________________

After pondering the bliss of you and JJ finally being reunited in the hot tub, you two make dinner together in the Chateau's kitchen. You two move in sync as you prepare the oh-so-difficult meal of pizza rolls. You share a place of them while cuddling watching Goonies. During it, JJ comes up with the idea that you two should be Andy and Brand for Halloween. It makes you smile and all warm inside to hear him making plans for two months from now. It makes you fully realize how much JJ sees a future with you. Somewhere before Goonies was over, you fell asleep in JJ's lap while he was playing with your hair. The last few days have worn on you emotionally, mentally, and physically. 

The Pogues came home and when they saw you and JJ on the couch, especially you, they quietly stayed outside. Except, John B lingered, smiling at the sight of his friend doting on you. He's never seen JJ be so gentle and patient in his life. 

“You’re different with her," John B whispers not to wake you. 

JJ glances up from observing you look at his friend with a satisfied smirk. “She makes me want to be better." His fingers comb through your Y/H/C locks, utterly content. 

“I think she’s really good for you,” John B nods in agreement.  

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to change, to be worthy of being with her," JJ confesses quietly as he returns his focus to you. 

"You two deserve each other," John B assures his friend. 

"You think?" JJ wonders, still unsure of his place in your life. 

John B snickers lightly. "I mean, she did leap across a table in front of all her friends and slap a girl to defend you." 

"Yeah she did, didn't she? Pretty badass," JJ chuckles, still amazed that you did that. 

"She loves you man," John B concludes with a shrug. 

"Really?" JJ narrows his eyes with curiosity at his friend. 

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" John B laughs breathlessly with a crooked grin. 

"I thought it was all in my head," JJ confesses with a childish fall of his lips like he just learned some overwhelming news. 

"It's not," his friend shakes his head, happy to see his friend finally have some hope. "She looks at you the same way you look at her." 

JJ's brows scrunch together and he looks up at John B. "When you and Sarah said it to each other, how did you know it was the right time?" 

"You'll know. You'll feel it," he describes confidently.  

"What if I feel it now?" JJ asks softly, glancing down at you. 

"Then say it. Say it whenever you can, as often as you can," John B advises before stepping away quietly to give you two time. 

JJ sits with your head cradled in his lap. He's not eager to join his friends around the fire outside. He's content with you here with him, whether you're asleep or not. You're enough for him. You're everything to him. 

JJ leans down, planting a kiss to your temple, then gliding his lips down to your ear. "I love you, Y/N," he whispers while you sleep.  __________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez 

[lisbonsteresa]

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!!  🥳 🥳  (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

                                 ___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she’s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression. 

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.” 

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered  “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?” 

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.  

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?” 

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.” 

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.” 

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”  

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

                                   _____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!” 

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her. 

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen. 

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet  “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.” 

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.” 

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!” 

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

                                 ______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together. 

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed). 

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction. 

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze. 

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”  

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another. 

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.” 

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes. 

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

[collecting-stories]

3am Friend - c. 01 - Topper Thornton

Summary: Topper and y/n have been in a “friends with benefits” relationship since September but the line between friendship and something more are already starting to blur. 

A/N: This is basically four chapters: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Also it’s going to be a bit of a practice run at writing more smut for me lol. Also it’s smut like, right under the cut lol. 

Sophomore Year Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

What were you doing with your life...

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Topper’s tongue pressed against your clit, the cold tiled wall of the shower stall pressing into your back had your skin erupting in goosebumps, a contrast to the almost burning water that was hitting you. It was futile to bother concealing whatever noises Topper managed to pull out of you, the curtains of the shower stalls did little to shield their occupants from the rest of the communal bathroom, the plastic more often than not creating the perfect outline of whoever decided to use the showers. There would be no mistaking you, pressed against the wall, one leg tossed over Topper’s shoulder, his own figure silhouetted, kneeling in front of you with his hands digging into your hips.  

If anyone did find you there was a 90% chance that they weren’t just going to let you off with a ‘sorry for intruding while some guy eats you out in the shower’ but any concern you actually had about the consequences of your hookup had died the minute Topper had joined you in the shower stall. Technically he’d texted you to come over to his dorm, he lived right off the main campus, close to your building, in a still operational fraternity house. He split a room with some guy who liked to stare but never actually talk when you came around. Yours was not a relationship of anything substantial. You’d hooked up with Topper at a party and exchanged numbers and, two days later, responded to a very obvious booty call at one in the morning.  

“Holy shit!” You cursed, your voice coming out an octave higher than usual, fingers gripping Topper’s short blond hair. You could feel every muscle in your body tense as you tried to keep yourself upright, your other hand grabbing hold of the dial on the faucet in a desperate attempt to not completely fall apart as Topper sucked on your clit. He had moved one of his hands at some point, middle finger now moving rhythmically in and out of your entrance, working you through an orgasm.  

When you came down, your muscles relaxing and you pushing back against the wall to keep yourself steady, leg slipping off Topper’s shoulder, he stood up. He caged you in almost immediately, moving as close as possible in the stall and kissing you, the salty taste of cum still there on his mouth. “That pad really comes in handy,” he teased, referring to the silicone mat you’d bought two weeks earlier to scrub your feet without trying to do a yoga pose in the shower.  

You hummed, “I’ll leave that in my review on Amazon. Great for not bruising your knees.” When he kissed you again you smiled, eyes fluttering closed for a split second. This was the worst part. The part when you ran out of things to say and he would untangle himself from your arms and leave, promise to text you later.  

It was the thing that your roommate had warned you about in the beginning that you had ignored.  

“That’s like, not even friends with benefits though.” She had admonished when you told her for the first time that you had started this bizarre relationship with Topper. “I mean, you’re literally having casual sex with some rando guy that you hooked up with at a party. At a frat party. Do you even fucking know anything about him?”

“I know his name,” you had replied, rummaging through your closet to find something to wear to class, “and his phone number so I can booty call him.”

“Brilliant.” She snapped, “he could be some fucking weirdo axe murderer preying on college girls.”  

You rolled your eyes, “he’s the same age as us.” You had never been one for casual sex in your life until this point and you weren’t sure why it seemed enticing now but you wanted to branch out a little. You’d gotten your first boyfriend in ninth and you’d stuck with him until August of this, your sophomore year of college. He broke up with you, claiming the distance between your school and his was too much for him to deal with.  

It was your roommate that had dragged you to the party at the fraternity house, claiming that it would get your mood up after the guy you’d been with for the last five years decided he couldn’t do the 2 hour commute between your school and his. Three shots of tequila later and the blond you couldn’t take your eyes off of asking if you wanted to ‘go somewhere quiet’ were all the motivation you needed to put the past behind you and stop groveling over a guy who wasn’t even there.  

Still, the fact remained, even now as Topper put his hands on your hips, looking at you through the mirror and kissing the back of your head, you knew that casual sex was not your forte. Not simply because you had never done it before but because you found yourself craving those small, just after when the bubble had broken yet and there was still some lingering affection, moments as much as you craved the sex. But you had both agreed, casual. Something to take your mind off school for a few hours, a stress relief. For you it was more than that. You’d never been the most confident when it came to sex or your body, all that self-love/self-care crap was wasted on you and your gnawing insecurities. Having casual sex was like constantly challenging yourself to be your most exposed and most intimate with someone who was still relatively a stranger to you.  

“You know I think it was technically supposed to be my turn,” you mentioned, running the wide-toothed comb through your hair. You should’ve detangled in the shower except that wasn’t really top priority. What would you even say, ‘oh, would you mind not eating me out for a second so I can brush my hair’…you’d live with the awkward waves that dried in.  

“I thought we switched.” Topper shrugged, pulling his sweatpants back on. His shirt went over his head and you involuntarily pouted at the mirror, there went the view.  

“No, I said…this doesn’t technically count.” You replied, referring to the party three nights earlier and the head you’d given to avoid having actual sex on your period. You were at the tail end and you’d contemplated not going to the frat house at all but changed your mind at the last moment.  

“Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down.” He joked.  

You turned to look at him, the mirror not sufficing as you stuck your tongue out playfully. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”  

“Come over, you can study in my room. We’ll hang out.”  

“We are incapable of hanging out Topper.” You replied, grabbing your shower caddy and heading for the door. He walked right out after you, both of you ignoring the rather appreciative stare of one of the other girls on your floor.  

“Not true,” he’d suffered a nasty break-up in high school that he gave no more background to other than to say she had cheated on him extensively. Casual seemed to be the best he could allow himself to do though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else and, as far as you knew, neither was he.  

Your roommate looked up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the sight of Topper following you into your dorm. In the beginning of September, when this first started, it felt like you only ever disappeared at night. You saw Topper when he texted you and you might smile in the café but you never actively sought each other out. Now it was creeping toward November though, with Halloween right around the corner, and Topper felt like an accessory. He was always right there wherever you were, not that you were complaining. To anyone on the outside you looked like a couple but you both maintained the friends with benefits story.  

“Oh look who it is.” Almost two whole months of him and your roommate still greeted Topper with a disdainful glare. She was fervent in her belief that the guy you thought was damn near perfect (if only he’d actually date you) was hiding some deep-seated flaw.  

“Hey G,” Topper greeted, taking a seat on your bed as if he couldn’t tell just how annoyed your roommate was.  

-

Geena and you had been thrown together after enduring a freshman year from hell. Her roommate from the year prior had been awful, like caging yourself in with some 00’s mean girl who only found satisfaction in watching you suffer. Your own freshman roommate had been neurotic about the dorm and constantly scrutinized whether your cleaning methods were sufficient. Geena was a blessing, you got along well, hung out all the time, had become fast friends in the short time since the beginning of the semester. Topper was the only thing you didn’t agree on. She thought it was unhealthy, that it would only lead to heartbreak.  

“You can’t have casual sex with a guy for three years…people already think you’re dating. Some girl I don’t even know asked me if I could get her into a Phi Sig party next week cause my roomie is dating one of the guys.” There was a new reason almost daily with Geena, like she tore away a new page on the calendar and it offered up cons to your relationship with Topper in lieu of a word for the day.  

“I can ask for her.”  

“Oh my god, that is not the point.” She snapped.  

You sighed, “I don’t really care if people think we’re dating.”

“Why?” She asked the question so smugly you already knew where she was going with this. And you knew why it didn’t bother you that people thought you were dating, why you sometimes even fanned that flame.  

“G-“

“No, tell me why? People usually keep that shit quiet so they can hook-up with other people too. So why don’t you care?”  

“Because if people think we’re dating…they won’t try to date him.” You shrugged, practically mumbling the last part. You hated that she knew that off the bat, that she could tell that you liked him so much in such a short span of time. And you knew she had a point to all her antagonizing. You had been in too deep since two weeks into September when he told you that you looked pretty in something your ex always said made you look fat.  

-

You held the seam of your towel shut as you rummaged through the set of plastic drawers underneath your bed. Geena had done the bed on risers thing for optimal storage and you had followed along, semi grateful for the added space since both of you seemed inclined to transport your entire bedroom with you. Topper’s foot nudged your side as you got closer to him and you looked up, matching his smile when you caught him staring at you. You were sure Geena was sitting behind you rolling her eyes.  

“Guess I’ll go grab something to eat.” She announced, as if your very presence had worn her down.  

“I’m just getting changed, I think we’re heading over to Topper’s.” You replied, looking back over your shoulder at her.  

Geena scrunched her nose and stood up anyway, “still would rather not be here while you got dressed so I don’t have to pretend like I can’t see this one leering at you.” She shot Topper a look of contempt as she passed. If it was real, if he asked you out and he was really, actually, your boyfriend, Geena was positive she’d have no problems with him. He seemed like alright and he certainly made you happier and more confident than she’d seen you in the beginning of the year. But she hated the thought of you getting hurt and didn’t want to be just sitting on the sidelines watching it happen.

“I don’t leer.” He joked, turning back to you once she was out the door, “I don’t leer.”

You didn’t answer, instead grabbing your underwear out of the top drawer and pulling them on once the door was shut. The first time you had ever gotten dressed with Topper around you’d made sure that you were obscured from view, still too bashful and self-conscious of the way that you looked without clothes on. There was still that split second moment when you doubted yourself, when you thought about maneuvering your towel to hide your body from view, as if after two months Topper might suddenly look at you and decide he didn’t like the softness of your stomach or the width of your hips or any other imperfection you could find.  

You pushed through the voice though, dropping your towel and getting dressed. When you reached for the bralette your tossed on the bed beside him you realized he was looking at you. “G might have a point, maybe I should turn around.” You teased, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.  

“I’m admiring the view.” Topper replied, not at all embarrassed at being caught.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling your bralette on and adjusting your boobs until it sat right. “I don’t even know why I’m putting this on,” you mentioned, grabbing his sweatshirt to pull on over it, “I should just stop wearing underwear to your room and then I won’t ever lose it.”  

“You lose stuff? Whose wearing my hoodie right now?” He asked, grabbing the edge of the hood to pull you closer to him.  

“Your room has swallowed three of my bras...the nice ones too. Or Will like, took them.” You said.  

If there was some kind of formal set of rules that you and Topper had ever thought to draft, kissing outside of actually having sex with each other should have qualified as a major no. But nothing of the sort had ever been discussed and now, Topper leaned over, stealing a quick kiss before he got off your bed. Maybe now didn’t count as a ‘just friends’ moment though since technically you were heading back to his room, presumably to have sex. To finish what he’d started when he showed up seconds before you got a shower.  

“What would Will need your bras for?”

“To masturbate over? Who knows...all I’m saying is, I wear bras to your room, I never seem to leave with them.” You replied.  

“I promise I will find all your missing bras today, okay?” He grabbed your lanyard off the hook, keys and wallet all in one place, pulling the door open for you. “Wanna grab pizza later?”  

You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting a beat to answer him. Grabbing pizza meant, inevitably, hanging out after. Becoming friends was unavoidable, there was no way that either of you could have navigated sleeping together without some sort of relationship forming. So far it was only friendship, or at least that was all either of you were willing to let it be. Anything more than that meant an actual romantic relationship forming, something you wanted but were determined not to let yourself even entertain the idea of.  

“Fine but not from that place by Barnaby's.” You replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the quad with him. The local bar was always teeming with college students and the last thing you wanted was someone recognizing Topper, because everyone always seemed to recognize Topper, and invite the two of you in.  

“We’ll just get it delivered.” He shrugged.  

The first time you met Topper, enough to tequila to not make you totally embarrassed as you danced with Geena in the main room of the Phi Sig frat house, you had laughed when he told you his name. It was a combination of the heels you borrowed from another girl on your floor and the alcohol that had you losing your footing, catching yourself in time not to smash your whole body into a coffee table, and landing on the couch beside Topper. He was taking a sip of beer and looked relatively startled when some almost drunk girl fell into the spot next to him.  

“Sorry!” You’d shouted over the bass as you tried to undo the straps of the heels that you were sure were also guilty of twisting your ankle.  

When he introduced himself two sentences later, “I’m Topper” you couldn’t resist a good dad-joke and smiled at him, “but I hardly know her!”

“Amazing.” He had been less amused by the joke than you were though he didn’t really seem bothered by it, at least not bothered enough to move on because he stayed on the couch for three more turns of the conversation before asking if you wanted to talk elsewhere. You were sober enough to know exactly what he meant and obliged because you were still kinda pissed at your ex and you didn’t want this year to pass the same as last year had, with nothing but school work to show as a passing of time.  

At least you’d have a good story to tell.  

Highschool you had a healthy apprehension of frat houses and the people who lived in them. You’d seen enough episodes of CSI, Law and Order, Veronica Mars, and any other crime show that existed in the early 00’s to know that frat houses were breeding grounds for terrible things. Your parents had even attempted to sway you from going to your first-choice college simply because the greeks still existed on campus. You could only imagine what they’d think now, knowing that you had spent more time in Topper’s room than you had in your own in the last month at least.  

Frat houses might’ve been sordid in your mind but so far, your reality of this one was exactly what it looked like on the surface, a bunch of guys living together with limited supervision. You still stuck to Topper whenever you were inside but you’d never had a problem with anyone in there and you rightly assumed that most of them just figured you were his girlfriend.  

“Will told me he wants that TA position next year, with Prof Berkley.” You mentioned, flopping back onto Topper’s bed and tilting your head so you could look over to the empty other side of the room that belonged to his roommate. Aside from staring at you too much and possibly stealing your bras, you still had a hunch that Topper was just messing with you and had them stashed away somewhere, Will was alright. You were both in the same area of study, pre-law, and he had told you days earlier that he was gunning for the same TA position with your advisor as you were.  

“I don’t know anything about it.” Topper replied, kicking his slides off and climbing onto his bed with you. The countdown in your head started now, hopefully soon you would be naked.  

“Yes, you do because I literally told you about it at breakfast.” You pointed out. He’d texted you that morning to get coffee with him and you ignored Geena when she told you that sex-friends don’t get coffee together. “I said I was applying for the TA spot because it’s a massive opportunity.”  

“Sounds like something I don’t have an opinion on.” He said, rolling over so that he could kiss you. “Enough chit-chat.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind Thornton.” You joked, moving your arms above your head as he pulled his sweatshirt off of you.  

“Well can I interest you in getting on that track with me?” He replied, lips brushing over your neck as he spoke. You hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup before you left your dorm, you hadn’t even bothered to dry your hair all the way. But who were you to worry about things like that when Topper was pushing your bralette up over your head.  

You jerked slightly, wriggling around on the bed when the fabric got caught half way up your arms, binding them above your head and covering your face, Topper taking advantage of the moment and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as you arched your back into him. “Topper!” You whined.  

He hummed, pulling away from you to take the bralette the rest of the way off and tossing it off the bed, “sorry, couldn’t resist.” He said, smiling at you as if he truly couldn’t resist. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.  

You didn’t let yourself have the moment though, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he had untangled you, hand on the back of his neck as you ran your tongue against his bottom lip, biting gently as you pulled away. Topper held himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushing passed your sweatpants.  

“Always right down to business,” you teased.  

“What do you want me to take you out first?” He was joking, you knew that, but the way he said almost sounded like he truly would take you out if you wanted him to. But then what would this be, if you had dinner before you hooked up.

“Some foreplay would be nice.” You kept the conversation light, the way you always did, and he laughed.  

“I thought the shower was foreplay.”  

You would’ve answered, thought of something witty to make him laugh again, but he had pushed your underwear to the side, fingers pushing passed your folds to brush your clit. He made the same satisfied hum that he always did when he realized that you were wet, like a quiet pat on the back. His middle finger circled your clit, a barely there shudder of nerves setting off in your stomach as you moaned.  

“I was supposed to,” you managed as he shifted further down the bed and you realized what he was doing.  

“We have plenty of time.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your stomach.  

Topper hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his break-up with Sarah. Kelce told him constantly that he was putting too much on that relationship, as if it was the holy grail by which to rate every other relationship that he had. And maybe he was allowing himself to be too scorned by something that lasted little more than a summer but he couldn’t help it. Topper was nothing if not a hopeless romantic and that had felt like such an idealistic time in his life until it all inevitably crashed around him.  

He tried casual hook-ups before you. A few girls from high school that he knew that made it practically impossible for the casual to still exist alongside the hook-up. College was easier but freshman year had been mostly dedicated to rushing the fraternity that his dad and grandfather and great grandfather had all rushed before him. Then he met you at a party in the beginning of sophomore year and he told himself it was casual but he knew that this was far from it.  

You weren’t anything like Sarah and maybe he had done that on purpose. Specifically slept with someone that didn’t remind him of anyone back home as some way to separate himself from that part of his life. To fully embody the frat boy, jock, life he was trying to live through. He figured it would just be a onetime thing and then maybe a sometime thing but now it was most definitely an all the time thing. Kelce told him that he should just ask you out but Topper felt like he was in too deep already.  

This was supposed to be strictly friends with benefits, if he crossed that line and you said no he would be crushed.  

“Topper,” you moaned, bringing him back to the moment. You shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of you, placing a kiss just below your belly button. When you tugged at the short blond hairs at the back of his head he shifted, letting you lead him back up so that you could kiss him.  

You had told him specifically that it was your turn, as if he really cared about taking turns at all. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have some fussy girlfriend bitching about giving you head.” Rafe’s colourful comments about the situation had been largely ignored but Topper knew, less crudely, he was right. The whole reason the two of you had started this was for sex of any kind and you had been the one to suggest taking turns.  

“My ex wasn’t very forthcoming with praise. He always told me I was kinda shitty at sucking dick so, maybe it’d be kinda nice to practice.” It’s been a colourful sentiment, one you had felt oddly comfortable sharing with Topper when the two of you first sat in his room discussing the arrangement.  

And while he wholeheartedly disagreed with your ex-boyfriend, Topper just liked being the one to give. He liked that moment when everything overwhelmed you enough that you let go and stopped worrying about if you looked attractive in a certain position or if your thighs were too big or if you had any unwanted rolls. That split second between overthinking and not thinking at all was powerful and Topper liked being the one who caused it. He liked the way you looked in his bed, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet so other guys in the house didn’t hear you. The way your hair tangled just from laying on your back. He could list a million things, every one more obscure, less noticeable, than the last because he felt like when you were around all he could do was pay attention.  

“Hey, quit daydreaming about Hailey Bieber-“ you teased as Topper’s movements slowed down, his lips brushing languidly against your collar like he was in some lethargic trance.  

He squeezed your side, baring his teeth to nip at your neck, scraping them across your skin and making you laugh as you turned your head towards his. That lazy smile you got was there, eyes hooded as you watched him, the moment passed and he leaned in to kiss you again. When he broke away it was only to grab a condom from the box on his dresser.  

Topper pushed your legs apart, settling between them. He slipped one hand beneath your back, guiding it into an arch to bring your chest closer to him, mouth finding one of your breasts. His tongue pressed against your nipple, swirling around it as you dug your nails in the sheets beneath you. He looked up at you, eyes hooded, as he pushed you back down against the bed. “God,” he breathed out, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”  

You grabbed the back of Topper’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, slower than the ones before, more tender. Your other hand moved down between your bodies, finding his dick, enjoying the way he moaned against your mouth as you guided him in. Despite the orgasm he’d given you in the shower you still felt that stretch as he pushed in, kissing across your jaw and sucking a bruise into the space just behind your ear.  

You would never tell Geena but somewhere between quick hook-ups and longer nights together your ‘just casual sex’ had turned into something else, something far more meaningful though neither of you would acknowledge it.  

Instead you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, Instead, you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, hips snapping against yours. The sound of your panting breath and his grunts filled the room; you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Topper’s fingers dipped passed your folds to massage your clit.  

“Oh god, Topper,” you whined, turning your face enough to press your cheek into Topper’s pillow, the faint smell of his cologne hitting your nose. You breathed in, always a fan of the subtle musk.  

“Does that feel good baby?” His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, words barely registering over the sensation of him. You opened your legs a little further, lifting your knee and hooking your leg over his back. The angle seemed to give more depth and his movements picked up speed. His fingers circled your clit faster as he continued to whisper words of encouragement to you. A quiet “come on baby, I know you’re close”.  

“Are you?”  

His comment had seemingly brought you just out of the haze enough to ask him if he was close. You knew you were, he knew you were, and you wanted him to be there too, just on that edge with you. As he pulled out you clenched around him and when he pushed back in it felt deeper than before, that all too familiar groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you guided him back into a kiss. He didn’t answer your question, instead taking the opportunity to kiss you, tongue working it’s way into your mouth and dragging across your teeth. You found your grip on his hair, tugging hard enough that he jerked his hips in retaliation, hitting so deep you felt yourself go off that edge, his motion become erratic as he followed, smoothing your scream with another kiss, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.  

There was always a moment of frenzy in the beginning when you first started hooking up. You would rush to grab your clothes, partially because you felt the need to leave when the act was done and partially because you didn’t want him to linger too long on your body. You were a temporary fix for a problem he didn’t feel like dealing with on his own, he wasn’t responsible for making you feel good about yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t obligated to tell you that you were beautiful or lavish any compliment onto you at all, not that your ex had ever been willing to either. You didn’t stay, for the first few weeks you trudged back across the lawn from the frat house, back to the dorms, and snuck in. But things had changed by mid October and what was once a booty call at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep was now you going over for pizza and a study session that turned into an afternoon spent in his bed.  

“What time is Will back?” You asked, sitting up as Topper came back into the room with two water bottles. There was still that awkward moment just after sex, as if neither of you knew how to leave behind the intimacy of the act and return to normal life. Like you were both waiting for the other to admit that maybe just friends wasn’t really what you wanted at all. So he disappeared downstairs to get water and you pulled your underwear and his sweatshirt back on, leaving the bra somewhere on the floor.  

The empty other side of the room served as a poignant reminder that time alone was only ever temporary.  

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “he’s been talking about some girl on campus that he’s dating. Won’t reveal her name apparently, he’s convinced Fitz will try to fuck with them if he finds out.” His fraternity brothers were not the same as hanging out with Kelce and Rafe every day but they weren’t the worst substitutes for entertainment. Fitz was the head of the house, a senior whose greatest claim to fame was being party to a wildly controversial radio-show that amounted to nothing more than some white guys imitating Rush Limbaugh and the Douche from Parks & Rec. He said dumb shit just to piss people off and had an unappreciated proclivity for trying to ruin any relationship one of his brothers found themselves in.  

Will was always an easy target for him though he’d set his sights on you a few times, assuming like others did, that you and Topper were dating. You had never mentioned it to Topper, Fitz was gross and you were looking forward to his inevitable graduation at the end of May.  

“Fitz totally would,” you replied. Last year you existed on no one’s radar. You hadn’t so much as gotten an offer to go out on a date with someone and yet this year, all because of Topper, you were sure, it felt like everyone in his circle seemed to pay attention to you in some way. “He told me he prank called Will’s mom two weeks ago pretending to be the on campus nurse for a bit on his radio show.”  

Topper looked up from his phone and the pizza he was ordering, frown etched onto his features. “When did you talk to Fitz?”  

“His econ class is right down the hall from my 12:30 poly sci class…he always ‘walks with me across campus’ in case I get mugged apparently.” You laughed, “I think he just does it cause he knows we hang out.”  

“I didn’t know he was talking to you.”  

You shrugged, Fitz had been goading you for weeks but it wasn’t anything that felt harmful. Just some mind-numbingly dumb conversation about parties and girls and his radio show and how hot he apparently thought you were. “It’s not a big deal, if he was bothering me I probably would’ve said something.”  

“Right,” Topper still looked miffed despite having no reason to be. You weren’t interested in Fitz and, even if you were, what say did he have over it. That old familiar feeling crept in though, the one he recognised as the same one that the plagued him after Wheezie told him that Sarah had cheated on the boyfriend before him only to find out that she had cheated on him with John B. When he looked over you were pouting at him, “what?”

“Your room is so cold.” You replied, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands as if that was an indication of the frigid temperature. The old house lacked insulation in most of the rooms, Topper’s being one of them.  

He rolled his eyes, climbing back into bed with you, the momentary worry subsiding. You weren’t his girlfriend but in that moment, as he pulled the blankets around the two of you, guiding you back down to lay with him under the covers, he could have fooled even himself about the relationship. He held his arm out in front of both of you so that you could see his phone and the menu for the pizza place.  

“I’ve been really in the mood for pepperoni.” You mused, not bothering to look at the screen and opting instead to tuck your face into his bare collar. Your hand slipped down from his chest and Topper grabbed your wrist before you could make it to his briefs.  

“Pizza first,” he said, “you’re already getting sleepy.”  

“It’s cause I’m cold.” You insisted.  

He turned to place a kiss on your forehead, “pizza.” He reminded you again.  

-

Halloween weekend creeped up and, before you knew it, Phi Sig was decorated and advertising a Halloween haunted house party for everyone on campus. Geena was going home on the actual night of to trick or treat with her sister but she agreed to go to the party with you that weekend. She loved a good party and any excuse to dress up.  

When you weren’t spending time with Topper, and sometimes when you were because he had a tendency to hang out just to hang out (the friends side of the benefit), you and Geena marathoned episodes of Supernatural. And it was at  her coaxing that your Halloween costume became an homage to the show and your favorite character. A semi-loosely interpreted Dean Winchester, complete with a flannel over your black tank top and the mark of Cain crafted by Geena using her best fx makeup skills. You wore cut-off jean shorts with your hiking boots, showing off the legs that you were usually self-conscious about. Geena was Cas, sticking a little closer to the actual costume though she made a few alterations.  

“I gotta ask…” Fitz said, coming up to the two of you the moment you were in the door, as if he was the greeting committee.  

“I’m Dean Winchester.” You explained, “G’s Cas.”  

“You dressed like a guy for Halloween?” Fitz clarified. “I was hoping for something that showed a little more…” he made a motion with his hands to indicate that the little more he wanted to see were your boobs.  

“I have the obligatory sexy cat costume but that’s…” you looked passed Fitz’s shoulder, eyes landing on Topper down the hall chatting with some friends, a smile instantly lighting up your face, “that’s for his eyes only.”  

Fitz looked behind him, catching sight of his frat brother and rolling his eyes before turning back to you, “yeah well, if Thornton’s not appreciative then you know where to find me.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, stepping around him. Geena had broken off already, heading for the keg that had been set up in the corner. When you started down the hall Fitz found someone else to antagonise, leaving you to vie for Topper’s attention, not that it took you much. Just walking up had him breaking his concentration to look at you, the smile automatic. “Hey,” you greeted as he hugged you, keeping his arm around your waist as he brought you into the conversation.  

“Hey, you look great.” He praised, offering you some of his beer. Topper’s costume was best described as JFK yachting in Hyannis. He looked like a preppy New England white boy and you suspected it was all clothing he already owned thrown together differently. There was always that slight air of prep to him though college and a growing collection of hoodies were slowly eating away at that.  

“Thanks, I feel a little out of place,” you joked, noting a girl down the hall that was wearing a mock up of Amanda Seyfried’s bunny costume from Mean Girls. “Though I do have a costume change saved for later.”  

“Oh yeah,” that smile was a full blown mischievous grin and you wondered for a split-second how down he would be to ditch the whole party and take you to his room. “Does it involve these clothes on my floor?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You teased.  

You had been stressing over the purchase of a costume that could’ve been more accurately described as lingerie since it arrived at your dorm a week earlier. Did friends with benefits buy lingerie sets specifically for showing off? You weren’t sure where that one fell on the line but you were positive you were crossing into territory that was reserved for girlfriends. But even with those doubts, just the thought of Topper seeing you in something that was just for him to see you in somehow made you unable to pass up the opportunity.  

Topper groaned, pulling you closer to him so that he could press his forehead into your neck, “baby,” his voice sounded almost close to whining and you ran a hand through his hair. He nipped at your exposed collar before lifting his head again to look at you. “How long am I supposed to wait?”  

“One track mind, I’ve said it before…I’ll say it again.” You laughed, trying not to think about the way this felt so much like a relationship, pulling away from him but taking his hand, “come on, I wanna get a drink.”  

He followed you to the makeshift bar set up by the keg, refilling his beer while you ladled a generous helping of jungle juice into your cup, trying to fish as many sour patch kids as you could to add to it. You were drinking mostly to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. Geena would be gone Halloween night and the whole next day because she didn’t have classes and you were thinking of inviting Topper to stay over. Regardless of the hour or the amount of time you spent together afterward, the post-coital bliss always came to an end and one of you always left the other. Even if you got breakfast the next day there was a stretch of time that existed between the night before and the morning after where you were nothing to each other but bodies.  

“So, Geena’s going home on Halloween, I thought maybe you could come over,” you suggested. That part was a given.  

Topper looked almost confused that you were asking, “yeah, figured we’d end up hanging out anyway.” He replied.  

“Well…” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, “I was thinking, she won’t be back til the next day…like, at night, and I thought, maybe you’d wanna stay over.”  

No. There was a voice in the back of his head, the logical one who knew that crossing the most obvious line, the one where he stayed and you woke up together, was a turning point that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. It was bad enough that he had let this become something that bordered on being a relationship to anyone looking in on it, but letting himself pretend like it was…he wasn’t sure he could come back from that when this all ended.  

“Yeah,” he said, quieting the logical side of his brain, “as long as you wear this ‘something else’ for the duration of my stay.” It might be a bad idea but who was he kidding, he was so far gone he’d accidentally referred to you as his girlfriend when he was on the phone with his mom just the day before.  

That smile returned to your face, the one that was so sly yet excitable at the same time, the perfect juxtaposition of innocence and deviousness, “Well, I was gonna wear nothing but-“  

“Nothing works for me.” Topper replied, using his free hand to hook his fingers through your front belt loop and pulling you toward him so that he could kiss you. Definitely not friends with benefits, but you’d both keep pretending until one of you cracked.  

-

taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences @vintageobx @starkeymemories @princess-of-fandoms @phantompogues @khiaraaa-in-spacee @ilovejjmaybank 

[matthewtkachuk]

give you anything - topper thornton

the one where topper would give you anything if you asked

warnings: none suckas, just fluff

pairings: topper thornton x reader

words: 500ish

a/n: @yourlocalauthor​ wanted soft and fluffy topper, here’s soft and fluffy topper, i hope you like it!!

Topper Thornton is a straight up softie. For his girl, he would do and give anything.

You want to go shopping? He’ll carry your bags. Want your hair and nails done? He’ll pay and then compliment you for days after. Want to see the latest Nicholas Sparks movie? He’ll take you to the theater and buy you the largest popcorn and let you pretend the reason you need the biggest size is him. Don’t feel like going out and drinking? He’ll stay in with you even if it’s the biggest party of the summer, even if his boys give him shit and call him pussywhipped. Need to review 500 flash cards before your bio final? He’ll help you study them and reward you (and lets be real, himself) with a kiss for every word you get right. You get really drunk at girls night and want to go home and cuddle? He answers the call on the first ring and leaves the boys’ poker night immediately, no complaints.

The point is, you want something, Topper is going to give it to you, no questions asked, nothing wanted in return. All actions done solely for the purpose of making you smile. Except maybe this one.

“Topper please look at how cute he is,” you pout, attempting to shove your iphone in his face and force him to look at the shelter puppy you had seen on facebook.

He ducks away from your phone, replying, “No babe, we can barely take care of ourselves, let alone a whole dog!”

“Nonono, listen! I would take care of him totally myself, I’ll feed him and walk him and love him, you won’t have to lift a finger!” you quickly retort, moving forward to show him the photo again. “Top please! Pleasepleaseplease I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

You’re lying and he knows you’re lying but the look on your face is almost enough for him to break and agree. He sighs heavily, “alright fine we can go to the shelter and look at the dog but we’re not bringing him home.”

Later that night, you walk into your shared apartment with two bags full of dog food and toys to find Topper asleep on the couch, the dog that you were ‘absolutely not bringing home’ asleep on his chest. Dropping your bags quietly on the counter you sneak into the living room and take a candid photo of your sleeping boyfriend and new puppy, posting the photo on instagram with a cute caption.

Lightly shaking his shoulder, you press a kiss to his lips to wake him from his slumber. “C’mon babe let’s go to bed.” You carefully picked up your puppy, cradling him in your arms as you slowly started walking. Topper’s arms encircled your waist and the three of you shuffled into your bedroom. You laid on the bed, cuddling your puppy and letting Topper get in next to you, cuddling you both.

As you fell asleep, Topper found himself thinking that he really would give you anything. Remembering the box hidden in his top drawer, if you would let him, he would even give you his last name.

Everything tag list (yall are rockstars!!): @velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline​ @copper-boom​ @x-lulu​ @prejudic3

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

 “You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.  "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 

None of it was a choice you should have to make. 

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah. 

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

 “You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 

Rafe. 

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 

“Put me down!” 

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 

 "Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much. 

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

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Moreover, local establishments often provide a sense of familiarity, creating a comfortable space for individuals to express their needs and preferences openly. This level of personal interaction can be invaluable, especially for those navigating sensitive issues related to hair loss.

Making the Right Choice

While the proximity of services plays a crucial role, quality and expertise should never be compromised. When seeking a "wig consultation near me" or "hair toppers for women nearby," consider establishments with a reputation for professionalism, reliability, and customer satisfaction.

Reading reviews, seeking referrals, and visiting the premises for an initial feel can help gauge the credibility of the service provider. Ensure they offer a diverse range of products and expertise to cater to various needs.

In conclusion, the quest for the perfect wig consultation and hair toppers for women becomes an enriching experience when found nearby. The combination of convenience, personalized service, and expertise ensures that every woman can confidently embrace her unique style, despite any challenges related to hair.

Remember, the right service isn't just about proximity; it's about finding a place that resonates with your needs, values, and aspirations. So, whether it's for a new look or addressing hair loss concerns, let the proximity factor guide you towards a journey of empowerment and self-assurance.