#and what do you mean it’s the same as the thick ones

[nosyp]

Game of Persistence

Continuation of this

Warning = smut🔞, stalking(?), consistently calling you, obsessive behaviour, posessive behaviour

Pairing = Salesman x reader

Word count = 2.4k words

Summary = He won’t stop calling, showing up at your door, and dragging you deeper into his world. Despite you rejecting him constantly, the tension between you builds, and soon, you can’t resist.

A/N = Idek where the story is going lol

You stir awake, your head heavy, and the world seems unclear… only for a moment. And slowly, your senses start coming back to you, and the realization… that something feels... off. The warm, familiar smell of your room should be comforting, but it isn't. It feels like a completely different room despite nothing different.

You blink against the dim morning light coming from the blinds, your body sluggish as you sit up on the bed. The covers feel too thick and heavy, and for a while you don't recognize the space around you. The soft hum of a nearby appliance fills the silence, but there’s something unnerving… something wrong.

Then you spotted a small black card with the words ‘Call me’ and a phone number behind it written in white ink. You stare at the card for a long moment, the words sinking deeper into your mind. Call me.

The idea of making the call terrifies you, but at the same time, there's an almost magnetic pull to it. What could it mean? Who left it? Why now?

But somehow you worked up the courage to dial the number. Your hands were shaking as you picked up your phone. Your heart raced as you pressed each number, the beeps almost deafening in the otherwise quiet room. The final digit feels like it echoes in your mind, each beep growing a sense of dread in your chest. Once the last number is entered, your thumb hovers over the call button for a second, and for a brief moment, you question if you should do it or not.

But the pull is too strong. You can’t stop yourself now.

You tap the button.

The phone rings, each tone stretching out longer than the last. Your anxiety spikes as you wait for someone to pick up, but the line is eerily silent. The seconds drag on like hours, and you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if this was a mistake.

Then, just as you start to convince yourself you should hang up, the call connects.

A deep, calm voice answers on the other end. “You called. Good.”

Your throat tightens. There’s something unsettlingly calm in the voice, as if they expected you to call all along.

“Who is this?” you manage to croak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s me, the salesman you were with last night,” the voice says, smooth and unbothered, as though you should’ve known exactly who they were. "I trust you remember our little chat."

Your mind races, struggling to recall any conversation from the previous night. Salesman? What did they mean? The last thing you remember was... nothing. Blank spaces where details should’ve been.

“I’m the ddakji guy,” he adds, almost like it should be obvious.

Goodness, how could you forget about him? The pieces click together in your mind, and the memories return with sharp clarity: a strange man, a paper game, and a promise of something... more. Why is he calling?

You try to shake off the rising panic inside you, but it’s quite hard to ignore. “What do you want?” you ask with a shaky voice.

“I’ll explain everything to you, just wait for me,” he says. 

—

You stayed in your apartment, anxiously waiting for the man’s arrival. Hours seemed to go by as the weight of the situation slowly got heavier, each passing minute making you question if you had made the right choice.

And then, just like that, there was a knock at your door.

Knock, knock, knock.

It was the same consecutive three knocks like last night, the one you’d heard in your memory that you now couldn’t shake. Your pulse quickened as you stood frozen for a moment, hand hovering near the door.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. There was no turning back now.

You opened the door, and there he was. The salesman. His calm demeanor was exactly as you remembered, almost like he had been expecting this, expecting you to open the door.

"Good," he said with a smile, his voice calm and confident. "I was wondering when you'd open the door."

You stepped back, not sure how to respond, and he walked in without waiting for permission, as if he had already been invited.

His eyes scanned the room briefly before returning to you. "Let’s get to it," he said, his voice low and steady. He seemed to have all the time in the world, despite the growing tension between you.

Over the next few hours, he spent his time explaining the whole operation to you. He explained how it worked, the roles, and how you were needed to help with what he called ‘Squid Game.’ It wasn’t anything like you’d imagined. No deadly challenges, no players, just a whole system that needed people behind the scenes. Workers like you.

"...are you drunk?" you ask him, your confusion growing with every word.

He looks up at you, disbelief slowly appearing on his face, before letting out a sigh. "No, I'm not," he replies calmly, his eyes staying focused. He continues explaining. 

"I don’t even know what you’re talking about," you say, still processing what he’s saying. "You want me to... work for you? In this weird game thing?"

“Yes, exactly,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But not as a player. You’ll be like me, recruiting players.”

You stare at him, trying to piece it all together. "I don’t get it. Why me?"

He leans back slightly, eyeing you carefully. "Because you’re perfect for the job. You have the skills we need. This isn’t a game you can just walk away from once you’re involved. It’s bigger than that."

You look at him, speechless for a moment. You hadn’t signed up for any of this, yet somehow it felt like the decision was being taken out of your hands. Despite yourself, the thought of turning it down feels... impossible.

“I don’t know...” you trail off, feeling the weight of the situation settle around you.

He doesn’t push. He simply nods, signalling that he understands you need time to think. "You don’t have to decide right now. But when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting."

As he turns to leave, the silence in the room feels heavier as ever. His words linger in your mind, leaving you to wonder if saying no was really an option anymore.

—

The days following the encounter with the salesman feel like they drag on endlessly. You spend your time replaying everything he told you in your mind, and try to make sense of it but you never quite got it. Every time your phone rings, your heart skips a beat, a small part of you hoping it's him, yet dreading it at the same time.

And then, it happens.

The first call comes the next morning.

Your phone lights up, and before you can even check the phone number, you already know who it is. You hesitate before answering, your thumb hovering over the green button. It's him again.

You take a deep breath and pick up the phone.

"Hello?" you say, your voice tight with tension.

"You ready yet?" His voice comes through, calm as ever, but there's something unsettling in the way he asks. It's almost like he knew you’d pick up.

You feel a wave of frustration bubble up inside you. "You can’t be serious," you mutter under your breath.

But he doesn’t miss a beat. "I’m serious. You’re perfect for the job, and you know it. You beat me all those times. All you need to do is just step up. I’ll be back tomorrow. We need to move forward."

Before you can respond, he hangs up.

The call leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth, a knot in your stomach. You didn’t ask for this, yet it feels like you’re being dragged deeper into something you can’t escape.

—

The next day, the phone rings again. It's him. Same number and the same calm voice.

"Did you think about it?" he asks, his tone light, almost too casual. "Have you made up your mind?"

You press your palm to your forehead, the frustration building. "You’ve got to be kidding me. I told you I wasn’t interested."

"You can keep saying that," he responds, "but deep down, you know you’re in this whether you want to be or not. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’ll talk again. You’ll see."

And just like that, the call ends.

—

Day after day, the calls keep coming. Every time you think you’ve had enough, the phone rings, and he’s there, as persistent as ever. His voice is calm, almost soothing in its insistence. Sometimes he asks if you’ve thought it over, other times he just reminds you that you can’t get out.

It feels like an unrelenting pressure, each call more invasive than the last. His confidence doesn’t waver, and you begin to wonder if you ever had a choice at all.

One day, you finally snap.

"Why won’t you leave me alone?" you ask, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "I’ve told you no every single time and you just keep calling. What the hell is wrong with you?"

There’s a pause on the other end. Then, he answers, his voice almost too calm.

"Because I know you’re not done yet. And I don’t give up. Not on people like you."

“All I did was beat you in ddakji!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. 

“But… we need you to help us,” he responds, still calm as ever.

“No you don’t. Leave me alone.” you angrily say before hanging up. 

—

The knock comes again.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s always the same, as though he knows exactly when you’re expecting him and when you’re not. You don't even flinch this time. The uncertainty from the first visit is long gone. Now it’s a horrible feeling and you have no idea why. You’ve made your mind up. He’s coming, and this time, you won’t shy away from it.

You walk to the door, your pulse quickening. The room feels smaller now, the air thicker. You open it without hesitation.

There he stands, still wearing the same smooth, calm demeanor as before, but there’s something different this time. His intense eyes… they don’t just survey the space. They’re on you. The air between you both feels charged.

“Hello,” he says, the words almost too casual, too smooth. He steps inside, and without invitation like he usually does. He walks past you, invading the space of your room. You’re not really sure if you want him here in your room, but there’s an undeniable attraction in your chest for him. It’s like you’re being tugged toward him despite your better judgment.

"I didn’t think you’d let me in today," he says, voice dripping with a quiet, smug satisfaction.

You can feel your heart pounding as he steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours with that same unnerving confidence. The tension in the air is almost palpable.

“Why are you here?” you ask, your voice low but trembling with a mixture of frustration and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You feel like you’ve been backed into a corner, but this time... you don’t mind it.

“I told you,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “You can’t escape it. We both know it’s been leading to this.”

His hands brush against yours as he walks past you again, casually reaching up to close the door behind him. The click of the lock sounds louder than it should.

"You don’t know how badly I wanted to hear you say that," he says, his voice low and controlled, the same calmness that’s always unnerved you. "Say it. Say you want this."

Your breath catches in your throat, the words sticking, but something inside you makes the decision for you. "I want this," you whisper, almost against your will, the admission slipping out before you can stop it.

His smile widens, and that’s when you see it. The stupid satisfaction in his eyes, the knowing, predatory glint. He’s been waiting for this. And now, so are you.

Without another word, his hand finds your wrist, pulling you toward him with an undeniable force. You stumble but don’t resist. You never do.

His lips meet yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, almost too gentle for a man who’s spent days pushing you into a dark corner. You hesitate for only a second before your body starts to react, betraying your mind.

You can feel him smile against your lips as you kiss back, your pulse racing. His hand slides up your spine, pulling you flush against him. His other hand snakes around your waist, pressing you harder against him, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers between kisses, his voice darker now. His hands roam—never rushing, but never giving you a chance to catch your breath. “Admit it.”

You shake your head, but the words come out anyway. “I didn’t want this. I–” You cut yourself off with a moan as he presses his hips against you, his body heat radiating through his clothes.

“Don’t lie,” he murmurs against your skin, trailing kisses along your neck, his lips brushing so delicately that it sends a shiver down your spine. “You wanted it the moment you picked up that phone.”

Your hands move on their own, reaching for him, for more of the feeling. Or whatever it is that’s coursing through your veins. The lines of what’s right and wrong blur, and all you know is that you can’t stop now.

He pulls back, looking into your eyes as he unbuttons your shirt, each move deliberate. He watches your expression carefully, gauging your reactions like a predator. “Say it again,” he demands, his voice sharp. “Tell me you want this.”

Your body betrays you as you breathe, “I want this.”

A soft laugh escapes him, dark and pleased. “Good.”

His hands move quickly, and in the next breath, your clothes are discarded, the cold air hitting your bare skin. But the sensation of his hands on you, the heat of his touch… it’s enough to set your whole body on fire.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice barely a whisper. “I told you that you’d never be able to walk away from this. I’ll make sure you never want to.”

[beloveds-embrace]

DukeDom Poly!141

So, in one of the things (Simon and pleasure), you mentioned boudoir paintings…

OMFG I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIM MAKING ALL OF THEM DO ONE, I bet you he hangs them in his room. OH OH OH! also, I bet Simon can draw skjsudisndh 😭😩! HED SIT DOWN WHILE ONE OF THE OTHERS IS GOING AT IT WITH THEIR DUCHESS AND JUST DRAWS IN HIS CHAIR ON THE SIDE 😩😩. Reader laying on her back or ass up in the air, all sweaty and glowing while one of the boys goes at her in bliss and Simon just drawing her from the side lines… 😫🤭😩

Also, can I be 🪭 anon?

Dukedom 141 masterlist

God, Simon painting them himself? Absolutely yes.

He’d do sooo many paintings of you, it’d be concerning if you could actually think past the pleasure that clouds your mind. He has you in so many different lingeries, things that make you turn warmer than a furnace and your men’s eyes darken with want; silks and laces that snag around your soft skin, garter belts that frame the length of your thighs, custom panties with nothing more than a neat, glowy string of pearls to line your cunt with a matching jewelry set.

Simon dresses you himself, and none of the men say anything against it; he is in his element, drawing the stockings up your legs and kissing your ankles along the way, big hands carressing your calves. He takes his time lacing up your corsets and bras, kissing up your spine, cupping your tits in his big, warm hands and kneading and groping until your nipples are stiff enough for his liking, for what he needs to do his painting, and you have that lovely, desperate and needy expression on your face.

Simon may do the painting, but to him, the scene itself is art: you, you, you. Face down and ass up, bared to his gaze and brushes while Kyle keeps your hips up with a hand under your belly and three fingers pumping in and out of you, your noises, sweet moans and cries, a background melody with Kyle whispering praises into you ear until Simon can see how well you cream around those thick fingers.

Art, that’s what you truly are. No painting will ever truly capture your beauty, but still, Simon tries-

And that means he also has you in so many different poses. Another day, another lingerie sets, teeth marks indented over your body, your ankles and calves, while Johnny keeps you pinned and spread with his body. Simon focuses on your straining muscles, your pretty painted nails raking down Johnny’s back and leaving behind angry red lines that don’t compare to the way he pistons into you, your pretty cunt stretched around him and your combined cum drenching the bed. Your legs, adorned in heels Simon specifically got for you, shake and tremble, your pleasure visible and audible to all.

And John… Simon doesn’t think he’s ever seen a better seat for you than his face. You look perfect, twitching and whining, your hair and makeup a mess of a canvas, John’s hands around your hips like unbending snakes. He’s made you cum so many times, your nub swollen and sensitive under his heavy tongue, you’ve soaked his beard, his face, his neck- and yet he doesn’t stop. A queen has no reason to leave her seat, no? And yet it’s your expression that has Simon fixated, the way you look around, look at him as if you want to beg him to save you or join you. Maybe both.

Simon paints each and every one. Moments frozen in his paintings, never comperable to the real thing, and yet adored all the same.

(And you stare at the finished paintings with awe, in spite of your blush. The way he’s drawn you… you never knew you were seen so beloved.

You turn back to Simon, bejeweled fingers wrapping around his cravat, and pull him close to kiss the corner of her lips. Your men continue to admire the paintings, but you are focused on the painter.

“I want one of you and I, Simon my love.”)

First time writing smut (if this can even be considered that 💀😭)

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕭REAKIN’ DISHES

Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader

summary: everyone’s obsessed with how girlfriend material sophia is, but only for a certain member of katseye. for scientific research, eyekons have made a video of moments sophia naturally acts like the gentlewoman she is

warnings: touchy!sophia, protective!sophia, fluff

(chatgpted the tagalog guys im so sorry!)

SOPHIA BEING THAT KINDA GIRLFRIEND FOR Y/N (FT. MEGAN ALWAYS CAUGHT AT THE SCENE)

17.2k likes | 330k views | 18th Dec, 24

*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ KATSEYE VLOG ] Day in the Life of KATSEYE | KATSEYE

Sophia was sporting a cool, black Drew jersey. The one you got her for her birthday after weeks of wanting it. Throughout the day, you’ve been growing tired of having the camera follow you around. Awoken by Megan and Sophia turning all the lights on in you, Daniela and Manon’s room, the blankets were yanked off your body and a kneeling Sophia tried nudging you awake.

Though Sophia’s soft voice motivated you to drag yourself out of bed, you already knew it was going to be a long day. Thank God for the breakfast the leader had made, or else you would never have been able to keep up with your PR training.

When dance rehearsal was over, your manager softly reminded all of you it was time to film tiktok’s for the Katseye instagram to promote the release of “Pop Star Academy: Katseye” on Netflix. Megan and Lara actually had a couple ideas to pitch this time around, but ultimately, the trend all seven of you seemed satisfied with was the water dumping on. Though you were staying on the more silent end of the discussion—your social battery draining rapidly with each moment your actions are streamed on video—you seemed to be voluntold.

[ Poor Y/N, she looks so tired… let my baby sleep please ]

“I think Y/N should do this one ‘cuz I’ve always wanted to dump water on her for fun,” Megan squealed, “Like I’ll do it to, but I definitely think Y/N should go first.”

You raised an eyebrow at the statement, your lips curving into a questioning smile. “Yeah, I mean… I don’t really mind it, but I wanted to do the ‘texting my sister’ one.”

The members began bickering which person should do which tiktok, and Sophia noticed you weren’t really engaged in the conversation. As the group discussed the pros and cons of hopping on certain tiktok trends, you remained silent, staring at the phone screens being shoved into the middle of the group. You nodded along with your lips pursed, uninterested in the brewing debate that was taking too long.

Eventually, Lara turned toward Y/N. "What do you think, Y/N? You’ve barely said anything. Would you be up for it?"

You hesitated, your head tilting in thought. "Um... I don’t know. I’m not really comfortable with getting soaked."

Manon frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Babe, you can do crazy ass splits and flips on a stage in front of hundreds and thousands of people, but you can’t get water chucked at you for a tiktok? What’s the difference?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but with the way your fingers had begun fidgeting with the hem of your tank, it was obvious to Sophia you were beginning to feel put on the spot. Before you could respond, Sophia interjected, her tone sharper than usual. "The difference is that it’s not the same. Y/N doesn’t owe anyone a tiktok performance, we can do another one."

Daniela being a mediator, stepped in to stop any conflict before people could take the situation out of context to fit certain narratives set during dream academy. "We’re just brainstorming, Sophia. No one’s forcing anyone."

"Good," Sophia shot back, her gaze unwavering. "Y/N can do one of the silly ones, no need to push."

[ She’s so protective of her gf it’s so AHHHHHHHHH ]

The room fell quiet for a moment, tension thick in the air. Y/N looked up at Sophia, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

"It’s fine," Y/N murmured softly. "I don’t mind doing it.”

[ She’s so cute protect her at all costs please ]

Sophia shook her head. "No, N/N, you don’t have to do it just ‘cuz eyekons want you to, okay? There’s tons of other ones we need to do, definitely no pressure."

Throughout the rest of the vlog, it was obvious Sophia had made it her mission to keep the others’—who had a significant amount more energy than you did—from walking all over you. They might not do it consciously, but the diverse personalities in this group can sometimes make things very chaotic and complicated. Sometime during the video’s dinner portion, the clip of Sophia’s hand resting on your thigh, holding you closer to her on the couch was cut into this video. The leader didn’t seem to notice, clearly actively involved in the conversations.

Megan, sitting beside you on the other side kept side-eyeing the hand on your thigh, shooting the camera a knowing look before trying to play it off like she hadn’t noticed.

[ Poor meiyok always caught third wheeling :// ]

*Loud technical difficulty transition* iheartradio Youtube video of KATSEYE’s podcast episode, where the Katz all sat around a table with the host at the head. Sat in order from eldest to youngest, you were sat between Sophia and Dani

“—That’s a very nice way to think about it, Y/N.” The host chuckled, earning a ring of soft laughter from the girls as well. Your cheeks were a little warm from the attention being pinned onto you, as the last couple questions seemed to be more directed towards you—one of the better singers who were also passionate about the songwriting.

“Yeah, it helps to stay positive, especially when we’re working late and health and morale can get really low.” you mumbled into the microphone, “But I love these girls, I try and make sure everybody’s doing okay as often as I can.”

The girls cooed, Daniela reaching over to rub the older’s shoulder with a dimpled smile. The cameras were separated into four angels, one on every two member and one on the host. The one focused on Y/N and Sophia filled the screen, Daniela’s hand peeking from the right side as the older sent her a smile. Sophia just stared, her eyes soft and her smile relaxed. Not the picture-perfect one she always sported for the cameras, and the subtle way her smile grew just a little bigger when Y/N looked down in fluster didn’t escape eyekons’ eyes.

[ THE WAY SOPHIA LOOKS AT HER OMG???? ]

“That’s amazing, the girls are lucky to have you.” The man said, “So here’s one more question, since ‘My Way’ has absolutely blown up recently, You were one of the writers credited for the song, and have gained multiple critic praises for the unique touch it added to your debut album. Can you tell us what inspired you to write the song?”

You nodded along with the question, and just as you were about to answer, soft fingertips came in contact with your temple, brushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. There was a brief moment of silence for a second, before the girls began giggling at the abrupt pause.

“Y/N… you okay there?” Lara asked between chuckles.

“Yeah, babe, you’re looking a little red.” Daniela teased.

You caressed the strand of hair Sophia tucked back, your tongue darting across your lip as you tried steadying out your nervous breath. As the others laughed and joked about your reaction to the older woman’s habitual affection, you hid your face behind your hands. You could tell by the way heat flushed to your cheeks you were getting pink. Manon playfully shoved Sophia in the shoulder.

“Sorry, I wanted to fix Y/N’s hair.”

“Oh my God, Sophia, you broke Y/N,” the Ghanaian woman snorted, “Really did that your way, huh?”

“Mhm, stream ‘My Way’ on Soft is Strong, guys, so Sophia can keep doing things her way.” Megan added, the members humming and nodding in response to the not so subtle segway into promoting their album.

You were thankful the attention seemed to pull away from you. Running a hand through your hair and recollecting yourself.

[ THEY’RE SO CUTE IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH ]

“Anyway, Y/N, you good to answer the question—?”

*Loud technical difficulty transition* Daniela and Manon’s Weverse live started off in their own hotel room, but after some freakouts and close-faced segments to hide their rooms from the camera, they somehow found their way to you and Sophia’s, where the other girls were hanging about

“No, wait, please! There’s no wifi!” Daniela screamed, the phone filming from under her face as she ran across the halls to another room. She pounded her fist against the door, impatiently humming before she knocked harshly again. “Guys, open up, there’s no wifi out here!”

The door clicked open to reveal a very confused Lara, who glanced between Daniela and the phone. “Wha—?”

Daniela pushes past Lara to enter the room, and as she sets it down on the TV cabinet, Megan could be seen playing roblox with Yoonchae on one bed, the two of them focused on their own phones as they bickered about the game. You and Sophia were snuggled up on the other bed, her hand over the pillow behind your head with her hood up. You laid under her arm, your phone in your hands. You were wearing some really high shorts, a lacey top and some socks, so your instinctive reaction was immediately to adjust the way you were sitting before you accidentally flashed everybody.

Sophia eyed the Latina bursting into the room, immediately catching the familiar Weverse live setup on her phone screen. The first thing she did was set her phone down, moving the blanket from under the both of you to cover your legs up. Her expression was hard, focused on protecting your body first.

The clip was edited to zoom in on the two of you in the background the split moment you were seen before Daniela moved to cover the both of you up after catching the look Lara was shooting her to the side (not that y’all could see). Sophia’s face looked murderous though.

“Daniela, you’re gonna get us doxxed.” Sophia barked from behind, still shielded away from the cameras, “Did you just run down the hall with the camera on?”

The blonde shook her head, “No, no, I had the camera up close to my face like this.” She grabbed the phone, pulling it close to her nose before setting it back down. “Manon had an emergency call, so I had to leave the room, but I made sure they couldn’t see anything other than me.”

[ Dani definitely got yelled at by Sophia after this… ]

user01 am i crazy or was laforl/n cuddling in the back jn

user02 WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABT LAFORL/N

user03 The way they immediately moved apart like they were caught red handed

user04 dani just saw her life flash before her eyes

Eventually, everybody seemed to join in on the live. And even though Sophia was reserved at first, still sporting her grey hoodie and some basketball shorts, she came to sit behind Daniela and Megan who were on the floor. After changing into some sweats, you took a seat behind Megan, wrapping your arms around the girl as you rested your cheek atop her head.

Sophia’s hand instinctively found the small of your back, running up and down your spine as she argued with Lara about which Mik Mik about was better. You joined the conversation, telling Yoonchae and Megan the milk one was better than the chocolate before you and Megan began playfully fighting.

“Whatever, I don’t like you or your taste in Mik Mik.” Megan huffed, holding a hand up to your face.

“Is this because you think I’m ugly?” you bit back, pouting.

Sophia’s head immediately snapped towards you, her hand ceasing its comforting pattern along your back.

“Who said you were ugly?” Her head turning to the girls, narrowing her eyes. “Who made her say that about herself?”

Megan’s hands flew up in defence, but the immediate reaction gave Sophia the answer she needed before she hooked an arm around the younger’s neck, leaning down so her lips were just beside Megan’s ear to whisper, “Do you think she’s ugly, Skiendiel?”

The Indian woman shook her head, “No, ma’am.”

Sophia nodded, humming. Her arm noosed around Megan’s neck tighter. “So what do you have to say to Y/N, hm?”

user05 GYATT DAMN OKAY DADDY SOPHIA

user06 Y/N pop them legs open-

user07 WHAT THE FUCK SHES SO BF???

Megan grabbed your hands, looking deep into the older member’s eyes. “Y/N, baby, you are the most beautiful and precious being I have ever laid my eyes on and I’m sorry if, even for one second, made you think anything less, that is a hundred percent my fault and I am so deeply sorry.”

With a kiss to your forehead, Megan looks back at Sophia, who nodded with a satisfied hum. Her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched. She slung her arm over your shoulder.

“That’s much better.” Sophia said, leaning to whisper in your ear, “Never ever, ever call yourself ugly, you understand?”

[ Love that she’s whispering like it’s just them ]

You nod, a hand over her shorts on her thigh. Her breath tickled the curve of your ear, the two of you sitting close and personal the whole live, which the eyekons ate up.

user08 nobody talk to me please

user09 sophia for being the responsible one you’re forgetting your pr training really hard rn

user10 Get me a woman who’d choke someone out if they called me ugly

user11 THEYRE SO GLARINGLY OBVIOUS WTF

*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ WEVERSE LIVE ] Sophia’s sitting on the floor of her room and asking eyekons how she should place stickers on her laptop

“I feel like the anchor should go next to the hibiscus (your charm) like this, y’know?” Sophia propped her laptop up, holding the stickers in place with her fingers before placing it down. Her face scrunched in thought, “I don’t know though, what do you guys think?”

[ She even wants their charms together hold my tea- ]

user01 yes laforty/n should be together in every universe

user02 Put the Katseye logo in the middle!!

user03 Doesn’t Y/N have your charm in her phone case

A knock sounded through the room before Sophia could answer any of the fans’ comments. Her head snapped towards the noise, seeing a translucent figure through the door. “Yeah? Who is it?”

“It’s me. Sophia, sweetie, I have a question.”

user04 SWEETIE IS CRAZY WORK

user05 the way i could recognize y/n’s voice is criminal

user06 Their PR team sweatin rn

Sophia got up to unlock her door quickly, sitting back down with her head turned towards Y/N. You were slightly onscreen, but not fully in view for everybody. You had on one of Lara’s tops, a pair of flare y2k jeans and a bandana wrapped around your hair. Even in the side, eyekons could see you twirling and spinning in place as Sophia’s eyes raked over your figure.

“Does this outfit look stupid? Megan said I should lose the bandana and wear sunnies, but I think this gives more of my vibe, y’know?” You said, smoothing out your shirt.

Sophia’s lips slowly curled into a smile, her eyes still darting up and down to take in your whole outfit. She especially liked the hoops you were wearing, the ones you and Daniela bought to match. God, she absolutely loved being your fashion critic. “I think you look hot,” she smirked, “Why don’t you ask eyekons.”

It was only then did you catch the phone sitting before her, the hearts and likes on live spiked immediately at your arrival.

“Sophia, I look so bad right now, you could’ve given me a warning!” You yelped, jumping out of frame in surprise. Sophia chuckled, looking back at her phone before turning back to you. She scootched closer, holding an arm out. “You never look bad, bebe. Don’t be shy, come say ‘hi’ to everybody.”

user07 I HEARD TAGALOG

user08 my filipino dad just asked if someone called me baby

user09 THE FILIPINA PET NAME IM CRYING

You walked into her open arm, letting her hand rest on the other side of your hip. You waved at the camera, smiling. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, I didn’t know Sophia was on live.”

“No, no, you didn’t interrupt,” Sophia immediately interrupted, “If anything, the eyekons were probably getting bored of me.” She pointed at the view count, as it rose from 13k to now a hefty 21k, everybody’s tuning in just ‘cuz you walked in.”

user10 quick to comfort her girlfriend i see

user11 Uhm nobody talking abt how fine y/n looks rn??

user12 i want laforty/n crumbs or i’ll starve

“Sounds like everybody likes the outfit,” Sophia snorted, instinctively fixing your jeans up higher so you wouldn’t flash anything you wouldn’t want to. “I’d say trust the eyekons’s sense of fashion more than Megan’s, ‘cuz between us, the girl gets mistaken for Adam Sandler way too often.”

You nodded, adjusting the bandana on your head.

“Completely agree. You guys are always glammed up and ready for a runway whenever we see you in person. There’s so many pretty eyekons out there, I can fill a book with the amount of compliments I don’t get to say at shows.” You scanned the comments, keeping a poker face as you glanced over the amount of Laforty/n comments. “Anyways, I should go. Manon and I are getting ready to leave.”

Sophia raised an eyebrow, silently asking you where the two of you were heading. You took a step offscreen to tell her you were going to pick up some booze for the girls. She nodded.

[ Sophia’s hand placement hello? ]

You waved to the camera, blowing the live a kiss before you got up to leave. “I’ll see you soon, eyekons. I love you!”

“I’ll miss you, bebe.” Sophia called after your disappearing figure, watching you close the door off camera. “Come back home on time for dinner, Yoonchae and I are making jjigae.”

[ #DOMESTICLAFORTY/N IS MY DRUG ]

*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ KATSEYE VLOG ] Yoonchae’s Graduation Party (KATZ EDITION) | KATSEYE

Daniela and Manon were quickly put in charge of decorations for the party they were throwing for Yoonchae’s high school graduation. While Megan was out distracting their maknae, the rest of Katseye buzzed on with their respective roles for the party. Lara was asked to help set up some partitions and strings for Manon and Daniela to hang things on. Leaving you and Sophia in charge of food.

“Y/N, can you hand me the chocolate chips?” the Filipina asked, focused on mixing up the dough in her bowl. She stuck a finger in, tasting some off the tip of her pinkie. “Hm, I think Yoonchae will want these a little sweeter, can you help me grab more sugar too, bebe?”

[ I looked it up guys ‘bebe’ literally means baby—SOPHIA LAFORTEZA CALLS Y/N L/N BABY IN TAGALOG ]

You hummed, moving around the kitchen to grab whatever the leader asked for. The editors of the video added some really cute lofi music to the two of you working cohesively, adding some adorable effects and cute captions here and there.

“Is it tasting okay?” you asked, your chin on her shoulder. She was taller so you peeked over her down at the bowl.

Sophia didn’t reply, instead, she grabbed the spoon to the side, taking a big scoop of cookie dough onto the spoon nicely. She didn’t move her body, finding comfort in the warmth of you against her. Her head turned, her hand raising to carefully stick the spoon into your mouth, her other hand held under your lips to catch whatever dough didn’t make it to your lips.

You moan softly at the sweet taste, eyes fluttering shut.

“Good then?” Sophia chuckled at the way you melted into her, “You’re eating more than you’re making.” She teased softly, glancing at you with a small smile.

You shrugged, “Quality control. You want some kimbap?”

She hummed in response. You returned to your kimbap, rolling the seaweed tightly and slicing it into neat rounds. A moment later, your concentration is cut and you held up one.

“Open up,” you said, fingers coming in contact with her lips gently as you set the food into her mouth.

She nodded, a hand up to her mouth to hide her chewing from the cameras. The editors added a sparkle effect to her eyes, as she eyed your growing smile. “It’s perfect,” she complimented, the tangy and salty taste lingering in her mouth.

“Does that mean I get more cookie dough?” you asked, feeling a bit bolder. You pouted, looking at her with hopeful eyes.

Her tilted her head. “We can’t eat all the food, it’s supposed to be more Yoonchae…” It took one look at your expression for her to immediately change her mind. “I’ll give you one more bite and that’s it until these are done, okay?”

You smiled, “Yes, ma’am.”

Once you had your second spoonful of dough, Manon and Daniela came in to check on the two of you. Upon spotting the bowl of dough Sophia was setting into small scoops on a tray, she gasped, immediately jogging over to hover over the leader.

“Sophia, can I have a bite, please? Pretty please!” she begged, bouncing on her feet, “That looks so good, oh my God.”

Sophia wagged a finger, focused on setting the dough down on the tray. “No, Dani, last time you wanted a bite you finished half the bowl. Nobody touches these until they’re done.”

The blonde whined, “Come on, just one… please?”

“You’ll get one when they’re done, Daniela Avanzini.”

You eyed the camera with a guilty smile, knowing you were the only one Sophia had trouble saying ‘no’ to.

[ Sophia has a soft spot for y/n… so real ]

[reginyani]

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer's addiction to dilaudid begins to become clearer to the team, but especially to you, when he starts calling you late at night, slurring his words and confessing random things that you can only take with a grain of salt.

cw: spencer's addiction to dilaudid, addiction in general, high!reid, use of Y/N, fem!bau!reader

wc: 918 words 4957 characters

authors note: the only way to promore fanfictions on tumblr is reblogging, so reblog if you enjoyed this!

It was late, far too late for you to be awake, but instead of sleeping, you were pacing through your apartment. Your mind was racing, filled with worries that you couldn't shake no matter what. The last case had been brutal, but it wasn’t the case that had you worried—it was Spencer.

Ever since he had been kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he hadn’t been the same. It had been weeks since you’d noticed the subtle signs—almost everyone did. The slight tremor in his hand, the way he'd seemed more tired than usual, and the flushed skin that never seemed to go away. You knew he was on drugs, and almost everyone seemed to know too. He was good at hiding it, but you could still tell something was wrong.

Then there were the calls.

You had received another one tonight, about an hour ago. The all-too-familiar ring of your phone echoed through your quiet apartment. You groaned, picking it up and squinting at the name on the screen. It was blurry from your sleepy state, but it read “Spencer Reid”. When you saw his name, you knew. He never called at a normal hour, and he was always high when he did. It had happened multiple times over the past few weeks—each time, his words slurred, his voice thick with that unmistakable fog of sedation.

You answered, like you always did, hoping to talk him down, convince him to go to sleep, and make sure he was okay. Though those things had given you reassurance each time, you knew he was miles away from any sign of sober clarity.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, vibrating through the line as you held the phone up to your ear.

"I'm here, Reid," you replied softly, letting out a yawn. You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

There was a long pause, a breath, then in a hushed whisper, he replied, "I... I miss you..."

The pang in your chest was hard to ignore, but you held it back. This wasn’t the first time he had said something like that during these late-night calls when he was high. You knew what it meant—or rather, what it didn’t mean. Spencer was spiraling, and in these moments, his thoughts often got tangled up.

You ignored his comment. "You need to get some rest, Spencer. You're not in a clear state right now," you said carefully.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but his words sounded slurred. "I just... I just want to tell you something."

You immediately knew where this was going. These bursts of confessions had happened before. In his drug-induced state, Spencer was unguarded and said things he definitely wouldn’t if he were sober. But nothing ever came of them, so you’d learned to take them with a grain of salt.

"You don’t need to tell me anything right now, Reid. You should rest," you said softly, trying your best to convince him to close his eyes.

"I love you, Y/N," he blurted out. "You're the only one that gets me. You're the only one that matters. I don’t know what I’m doing without you..." He slurred, his voice breaking slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat. You could hear the raw emotion in his voice, his confession tumbling out like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. But you knew you couldn’t let yourself get swept up in it. His words were unreliable in his current state.

"Reid..." you whispered, your throat dry as you searched for words. You wanted to say something to make him feel better, but you couldn’t. "You're high, and you're not thinking clearly. We can talk about this when you're sober."

"I don't want to wait," his voice trembled now. "I need you to know how much you mean to me. I need you to know."

You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. You hated hearing him like this—vulnerable, confused, and lost in his addiction, while you couldn’t do anything to help him stop without risking his job.

"I know you care, Spencer. But you have to understand, when you're not in a clear state of mind, none of this is real. You need help," you said gently, masking the pain in your voice.

"I know, I know... I just... don’t know how to stop. I can’t make it go away." You could hear the frustration in his voice, and your heart continued to break. You knew how much he hated feeling weak, how hard it would be for him to ask for help, even when he needed it most.

"I'm here, okay? But you need to get help, and I’m not sure how long you're going to be able to keep hiding this from the team." There was a minute of silence on the other end, and you furrowed your eyebrows, confused. "Hello?" When there was still no response, you knew he’d fallen asleep.

You hung up the phone, sitting in the quiet of your room as the darkness consumed you. Even though you knew his words weren’t entirely true, they still stung.

You could only hope that, when he was sober, maybe he’d still feel the same way. But right now, your main priority was making sure he found his way back from the edge he was hanging off of. You just hoped that, someday, Spencer would realize the love he spoke of tonight could still be his, whenever he was ready to fight for it.

tags:

[kaisaerinlover]

rin nii and sae nii

darkcon , incest , aged up

pls don’t read if you don’t like darkcon

to sae, rin isn’t competition. to rin, everything the two have been doing that’s the same since he was 16 and sae was 18 is a big competition. one that he knows he has to win. he doesn’t want to let the redhead have anything up over him ever again. sae doesn’t care. sae is a calculated and cold man. rin is an erratic mess. but the one thing the two brothers always manage to share a value consensus on is their baby sister. sweet innocent you. it’s a shame you’re so innocent, or not, because if you weren’t you would know how disgsuting your big brothers are.

when your brothers are football prodigies, globally renowned for their talent, and both known for being extra secretive about whatever it is they have going on in their lives off of the field, being their little sister gets harder. your parents don’t like you as much, you’re the child who bore not a single fruit of your mother’s labour (literally and figuratively), you are the child who cannot bring anything to the table, whilst rin and sae both bring a feast and several trophies. you are you and your brothers are so much better. above you in every way. born with natural beauty and talent.

but they don’t share that corrupted view your parents do, not at all. you’re all siblings, you can tell from a single look. yet you wear those big eyes better. those long sought after itoshi lower lashes sit so much more dainty on your eyes. the eyes both of them hate and love to see tearing up beneath them. the eyes they had to pretend to ignore when they both left you to pursue their soccer careers further. it’s a shame really, even as kids you were a bit neglected by your brothers. a bit is an understatement. rin was a mean kid. sae just didn’t care. they never had time for a baby sister in their world, neither did your parents. your parents had rin and sae, rin and sae had soccer. so what did you have?

the answer is nothing. you didn’t have anything. growing up neglected yet miraculously sheltered from the world. your upbringing is the greatest gift of all though; a gift both the older two itoshis have learned to be grateful for. if your airheadedness ever was replaced by anything other than a dumb mentality they would secretly yearn for years. your aloof nature is a blessing. and they learned that as they matured, as they realised you’re their baby sister. the one they can do whatever they want to. the one they love in a way that’s so sick they wouldn’t even have careers if anyone had found out what was going on between the three of you. the rare occasion when the three of you are together with your parents eating around the table, as you sit between your nii chans cutting your food so quietly. as your parents shower your brothers with praise and compliments for their insane soccer talents. your parents are stupid, they paid so little attention to you as a whole, to your brothers as people; only to their achievements. now they can’t even see the growing rivalry between the two. the only thing sae will ever get competitive with rin for is your affections. but even then, every second they spend with you, both of them together with you, it grows their bond even more. but rin hates that; rin wants you to himself. rin is feral. sae could learn to be content with it though. maybe. if rin knew his fucking place.

the tension between them is always thick whenever you’re in the picture. as thick as it is with soccer. that’s saying a lot, considering their whole lives have been built around the damn sport. and you; god you’re sweet. sweet as sugar. more sugary and tangy than any delicacy the millions in their pockets can buy. and they want it, they want all of it. the only other thing that you could ever argue itoshi sae and itoshi rin could ever want more than glory and to prevail in soccer is to devour you whole. both of them know it. you’re so clueless to it all. like i said, how sheltered you are is a gift. no one normal would let this happen. no one would at all. but you do; you lavish in the attention your brothers nonstop give you to try and win over your pink heart wrapped in a ribbon and covered in stupid glitter because you’re a little attention whore.

when they both left you; you missed them dearly. they are your brothers after all. and your parents completely neglected you, rin was mean, sae ignored you; but they always took care of you. even if it was the bare minimum. they were still your big brothers. you’re a year younger than rin and 3 younger than sae. those are your nii chans. mom and dad had tried again for another boy. but they got you instead. and as rin and sae picked up soccer as a hobby, they felt even more disappointed. their disgust was malleable towards you. they didn’t even bother trying again. your existence was a waste. but your brothers couldn’t be more thankful that you’re a girl. couldn’t be more thankful that they have such a doting little sister. so diligent. so cute. always waiting there even after all those years of them being so mean. always clueless. your innocence is intoxicating. it really is.

rin and sae are competitive. sae could have shared before, i said it already, he really could have compromised with rin. but rin’s anger towards sae all those years ago has never quite died down. he needs to one up the eldest in everything; you’re one of those things. sae thinks rin is lukewarm. rin would say the same about sae. you would say it about neither itoshi as one fucks into your cunt and the other bites at your neck like it’s meat on a bone.

sae is fucking the shit out of you completely, he was always more rough than rin. for the most part. rin is gnawing at your neck now though, misdirected anger; you suppose it’s that way anyway. not that you have much time to think. sae itoshi fucks hard most of the time. he doesn’t want to feel this attachment towards you; he wants to fuck it away. he fucks you so hard it hurts. he’s always like that and it’s not fair. it’s not fair on you (because it fucking hurts), but most of all because the attachment won’t ever leave. sae doesn’t want to be weighted down by this stupid rivalry he has with rin over you, doesn’t want to be compelled to return to you more often than he’d like to admit. he feels something when he’s with you; so different to the years of emptiness and undiagnosed depression that swallowed him for the first while he was in spain. he knows it’s not fair too, but he can’t stop anyway when it feels so good. and you’re a whore for your brothers, no especially about it, you’re a writhing little slut for both of them.

and rin is desperately nipping at your sweet neck, trying to mark you as his. he wants to sink his cock into you as well; but this will do for now. you’re drooling all over, and he is too. your saliva mixing with one another’s and rolling down your plump tits as sae fucks into your sopping cunt. rin is biting as if he’s a vampire, you felt him draw blood a few times. thank god you have your eyes closed because both of your brothers have a look of pure focus right now. pure aggression. aggressive love is what they give you. you really adore your brothers, they know it too. and they abuse it far too much. they shouldn’t do this with you; you’re so sweet and docile. it’s so hard to resist the opportunity to take advantage of you. they still love you, but man you’re cute.

especially now, drool running down your plump pink lips, soaking your chest. mixing with rin’s. rin can’t help but to lean in and lick it up. “so good, so so good ‘mouto” he groans. and sae looks up from the sight of his cock slamming into your warm pussy for a moment just to provoke rin. “i’m making her drool, you’re just biting on her neck like some lukewarm dog” the rivalry is still there. rin just eyes sae up and down and spits out an insult back at him. “you’re disgusting, shitty excuse of a brother, at least i’m nice to her” rin’s words are laced with venom. sae wants to reply, but he’s hitting that sweet spot. so he just keeps fucking your worn out little pussy even harder.

“s-sae-nii- please- please- pl-“ rin just kisses your mouth to shut you up. he doesn’t wanna hear that shithead’s name out of your mouth. rin is pathetically in love with you, but then again, so is sae. “lukewarm, can’t even stand to hear our baby sister say her favourite brother’s name” sae’s words are cold, calculated to cut deep. and it works; rin bites at your lip extra hard. you yelp in pain and god that sound goes straight to both of their cocks. sae hardens inside of you, he didn’t even think it was possible. god their love and everlasting desire for you runs so fucking deep. he keeps pounding into you mercilessly, and he leans down a bit to massage your clit. “gonna make you cum, imouto.” and you whine into rin’s kiss. you’re so overstimulated right now. your brother’s weird competition over you makes for the greatest of fucks, it really does.

every slam of his hips, sae hears an erotic squelch. the squelch of your juices. he sees the trail of precum he left on your stomach earlier, and it just makes him plough into your swollen lips even harder as he massages your little clit. his breathing gets ragged as he’s about to cum, and rin growls into your mouth and bites at your tongue. you’re in heaven, you really are. and you finish. sae does too. and you cry out his name in rin’s mouth. which just pisses rin off even more. he wants to fucking kill sae. you squeal out the eldest’s name as he empties himself inside of your little pussy, little cum pocket for him. his warm cum dripping all inside you, filling you up to the brim. he pants and pulls out, and rin pulls away too. rin has your blood and his saliva around his mouth, sae has his bangs slightly down and sticking to his forehead. he pulls out and lifts up your aching legs a little to inspect your cunt. it’s all red and swollen from the brutal assault of his fat cock penetrating so many times, so hard, so rough. he squeezes your hole a little and watches some of his cum drip down into the crevice of your ass. the one he loves so much. how erotic. he’s hard again, but he plays fair. he gives equal chances. he scoops a bit of his cum and shoves it back in with his fingers. it’s his monster of a younger brother’s turn.

“you can have your turn, rin” sae brushes past him condescendingly and stands at the other side of your head, brushing his hand over your cheek in a way that is so deeply ironic considering the way he just ravaged your pussy. you would be grateful for rin taking his place, rin usually shows you nothing but love and care whilst he fucks you. but not now, all three itoshi siblings are beautiful, rin is not an exception to the itoshi beauty. he looks a bit deranged though, saliva and blood around his mouth. tongue out trying to lap up the remnants. his bangs covering his eyes partially. eyes looking hungry and mad. sae just inspects the marks rin has left around your tits and neck as rin takes his precious place infront of your pussy. god, he’s even mad just seeing sae’s cum on you. he’s so fucking pissed off. he wants you deeply, in a way that’s so feral it’s insane.

sae observes all of the bruises on your neck, and he feels something shift within him. he wants to cover them with his own. he really only feels this way when it comes to you. only deeply cares about one upping his younger brother when it comes to you, because he knows rin is the same. he leans in and pecks your lips gently as he hears rin fumbling desperately with his own pants trying to pull them down fast enough to be able to sink his cock deep inside of the sweet retreat of your pussy. sae is looking off a bit at the wall on the other side of the hotel bedroom as he’s thinking. are they bad brothers? he knows they are, he doesn’t even need to ask himself such a stupid question. every single one of your firsts was claimed by them. first hand holding. first kiss. first date. first heart break when they both left you. he remembers the look in your eyes, rin does too. they even both took your virginity first. he doesn’t think you’ve ever had another man, none that either brother knows of anyway; but he trusts that you haven’t. you’re devoted to your older brothers, you love them so much. and they love you too, they really fucking do. sae is still stroking your head gently until he feels it push against his hand a bit as rin pushes your legs and positions himself to slam into you.

and when he finally does, god, it hurts even more than when sae was fucking you. you can’t tell if rin is rougher, if it’s because sae already hurt you so much, or if it’s a combination of the both. you can’t care though. “nii-chan- ‘s too rough” you cry out almost instantly. and your cry just leads to sae sticking his fingers in your mouth. “shhh, suck.” and you do. rin can’t even talk at the moment. god, his little sister’s pussy never ever fails to deliver nothing short of ecstasy to him. his tongue is out and he’s gripping the bed next to your hips so tightly. every vein on his large hand is bulging so much. he’s in heaven, he really is, right now it’s not about one upping sae, it’s about fucking you so hard. misplaced anger like i said. he thrusts into you so much and all you can do is whine around the finger sae has pushed into your mouth. every thrust you’re scared he’s about to split you in half. every time he hits your womb. evey single time he smashes into you with force that kills you. all he can do is incoherently ramble “gonna fuck you ‘mouto- gonna destroy- your little pussy- tiny pussy- fuck-“ rin is just babbling on and on. low and guttural groans and his nonsensical promises are the only thing leaving his mouth.

and sae is hard from your sounds too. he leans down to add a few marks of his own onto the growing collection on your neck. you’re like a canvas, a canvas where your brothers can nonstop add to you with their brutality or with their love. and you like that, you like being their little plaything, their princess, their masterpiece, their baby sister. you really do. sae bites at your neck, less feral than rin did; he bites in a way so precise and exact, calculated perfectly to leave the marks he intends to. and rin is just slamming into you with no sense of rhythm or strength at all. you just know it hurts. it hurts so fucking good. eventually sae has had enough of marking you, he just sighs as your body still rocks against his hand as a result of rin’s brutal thrusting. he pulls out his cock again and brings it to your lips. “just lick it a bit, don’t need to suck” and you do. you hold your small hand up to steady his cock enough for you to leave a cute kitten lick on it. and rin is still thrusting into you, making you cry out each time. his hands fully gripping onto your little waist. “gonna give you a mouth full of cum, little sis.” sae warns. or is it really a warning? it’s more of a promise. and you try and reply the best you can. the best a human possibly could with a monster like itoshi rin mangling their insides with his cock. “k-kay- nii- cha-“ sae just erotically rubs his cock on your plump lips a bit, and starts jerking off above your face. it’s sick really, getting off on your sister’s ruined face. but they’re both sick and it was accepted years ago already, no point in dwelling on something that was established by both brothers years ago already.

being the centre of both brother’s affections feels good, good beyond words that can even be used right now. there isn’t enough words in a dictionary to describe it. even if you used every language and every synonym of every single word, every comparison, every metaphor, every single technique, nothing could come close to the feeling of bliss and contentment you feel. rin is still fucking you hard, drool dripping all over your stomach and cunt as he fucks you as if his goal is breaking you. sae is jerking off over your face, sometimes pressing his fat cock on your lips, rubbing between them tauntingly. cooing down at you, cooing the way you would to your sister had she gotten hurt, had she done something cute. not this. but it’s okay, none of you care so don’t think about it. not that you can use your head much right now anyway, all you can think of is your brother’s. and that’s the sad yet also joyous truth. the truth that neither brother can win. the only way the competition will end is if they come to terms with the fact that it can’t ever be settle; that when it comes to your big brothers, there’s never going to be a second best. they’re both the same. the only second best is every other man that could ever possibly try and talk to you. not rin, not sae, they’re the best you could ask for. they should accept that neither will prevail, that they have to share, that they should give in already, that they’re both the winners of your heart, but each stroke of sae’s cock over your face and every thrust of rin’s hips you are reminded that it will be a long while before they ever come to terms with that.

you’re so close again, sae is so close again, rin is so close again. all three of you are about to cum, you’re about to be marked for a second and third time tonight. rin gets more and more erratic, sae just bends down to kiss your head again before pushing his cock somewhat past your lips into your whining mouth. you can’t even talk. you couldn’t if you tried, because it’s just too much. you wouldn’t have any words anyway. your nii chans are showering you with the attention you deserve and have deserved since you were a little kid. all those years of neglect mean nothing now that they’re both giving you the highest level of attention a man can give to a girl of your calibre right now. and you love it. sae finally fills up your mouth with cum. rin finally spills inside of you as well, filling you even more than what you deemed possible, past the brim, to the point of explosion. your stomach is probably bulging right now. and you finish too. your pussy throbs in pleasure.

all three of you pant and try and catch your breath, and you choke a bit on sae’s cum. and both of their heads snap up in concern. rin looks at sae menacingly as he sits you up and helps you swallow it all down. “good girl f’ me, ‘mouto, so good” sae praises as you finally manage it all down. and rin snaps at him “get off of her, fucking idiot” all you do is pant and try to sit up to stand. you need a glass of water, seriously. but the moment you push yourself up to stand, you simply crumple to the floor. they really did a number on you. rin and sae’s cum drips down the inside of your thigh, and both of them look at you again with concern. rin grabs you under the arms and sits you on the bed. “careful, baby sis” he mumbles and tucks your hair behind your ear. both brothers are awfully competitive over you, but you’re also one of the areas where they can actually agree on. they need to take care of you. and that’s exactly what they do.

you’re laid in the middle of the bed, wearing one of rin’s jersey’s, hair tied up with one of sae’s hair ties, sae’s socks on. you’re fast asleep. you look so cute and innocent, no, you are so cute and innocent. bundled up in a blanket they both got for you as a gift when you were all just a little younger. rin is looking down at you and rubbing your head, combing his fingers through your hair, and sae is scrolling on his phone. he brings a glass of expensive champagne to his mouth and takes a drink, before resuming his scrolling. “we did a number on her, didn’t we?” he comments to rin without looking up from his phone. rin doesn’t have the energy to be snarky back. he just nods (even though sae can’t see it) and replies. “a bit, yeah”

rin sighs a bit. he looks at the ceiling. the plain white ceiling of the overpriced hotel room you’re all staying in. there was another bed, but they’d just fight over who gets to sleep next to you anyway. it’s offseason, so they both spent time with you. but it’s swallowing rin up knowing he’s going to have to leave you soon. rin was never good at goodbyes. sae was though. sae was always awfully expert at them. rin doesn’t know how he can be so cold, not only to him but to you. he remembers it from when you guys were kids. maybe spain changed him, football changed rin too. they both changed so much for the worst. the only thing that keeps any semblance of goodness within the two men is their baby sister. rin doesn’t want to leave you, he wants to bring you with him. both brothers play soccer in europe. he wishes he got into re al secretly. not to play with his shitty brother (even though it’s secretly a truth) but so both of them could agree on bringing you with them and they’d never have to part from your pretty face again.

do they really have to leave you? probably, there’s a lot of shitheads in europe that there isn’t really back home. he doesn’t want any of those people interacting with you.

sae is thinking the same thing, but it’s unfortunate. there’s someone back in re al already who knows about the weird relationship both itoshis have with their baby sister. michael kaiser. sae supposes him and rin can take turns, if they ever brought you there. rin is in france, he is in spain. it cant be that bad. they could just take turns. they should.

it’s so difficult, whatever you guys have going on. and sae feels bad for letting anyone else catch on. but kaiser won’t tell. he just wants to meet you too. sae isn’t that possessive. he supposed he’ll allow it. it’s one of the reasons he tries so hard to detach from you. your polaroid in the back of his phone that he stares at too longingly sometimes must have given him away. and every other trinket he has of you to preserve your memory.

rin is the same.

the itoshi brothers just long for you, whenever and wherever. and it’s going to be their downfall. it fucking sucks loving you this much, being in a competition that can’t ever be settled no matter what. it sucks being so immoral and corrupt that they feel this way. they feel disgusted with themselves sometimes, rin a little more than sae. but sae has his own fair share of qualms about himself that he suffers deeper with than rin. it’s just a big mess. but when rin strokes your head one more time and sae puts his phone down to stop scrolling and do the same, and simply admire your face, they both know it’s worth it. they would watch the whole world burn for you, the youngest itoshi.

it’s not normal to love your sister in this way, they know it’s not. but you’re so cute, so innocent. soccer is depressing. it’s not all fun and games. they’re both broken beyond repair in their own ways, but you serve as a nice little bandaid for their scars and woes. for all the troubles brought on by soccer. for their depleting mental health. for sae’s nonchalance, sae’s emptiness. for rin’s constant self loathing and inferiority complex when it comes to sae.

they both want to thank you for being there for them in the most innocent and disgusting ways.

[daenysx]

i got bored so here are some modern!james potter headcanons;

um- sunshine energy at its finest!!

james is one of the prettiest boys you could ever see in your life

his smile lights up every room he walks in

he has to take extra five minutes every morning to fix his hair because he always puts his head wrong on the pillow and messes the shape of his thick, wavy hair

heavy sleeper!! (cutest though, sometimes he sleeps with his mouth open)

he's a morning person but he usually goes to bed early, claiming he has to get 8 hours of sleep

sleeps naked. to your delight.

he likes getting slow back scratches and massages, he is addicted to get kisses on his neck and his cheeks, he LOVES being babied

always runs hot even when the room is cold. he's generous too, he holds your cold body in his arms until you get warmer

i once wrote that he makes the best iced lattes in the morning, i still stand by it

he'd practice to be perfect at making your favorite drink (mine is iced latte so i had to say it-)

breakfast fan!!

he never leaves the apartment with an empty stomach, the worst he can do is take some snacks or fruits with him if he runs late

loves morning runs, morning walks, morning work outs, morning stretches. anything to wake his body up

and we probably all know this but james potter is the type of man who knows his body well

he looks good and he knows it

he also knows what he should do to take care of himself and his health

i mean he likes waking up early and starting his day, but he'll stay in bed with you if it means he'll get cuddles (especially when it's cold)

he tries to wake you up by bribing you with promises of a shower together and breakfast prepared by him

speaking of showers-

um- if you don't mind me being a little smutty here,

james potter loves eating you out

and he loves it more when he gets to wake you up to his mouth

and he does it again when he convinces you into shower

he does it for his own pleasure really

because it feels so good to keep his mouth on you and rubbing himself to soft blankets at the same time

this man is never- and i mean never ashamed of coming into his pants

like seriously, just think about it

he adores that feeling of falling apart for you, he doesn't even need to be touched

needy. and that's hot.

he makes noises in bed. never stays silent. always tells you how you make him feel.

he likes being called 'my love'

king of getting you flowers because 'they made him think of you'

he makes fun of his blurry sight every time he loses his glasses

he can't read for long (sleepy boy alert) but he likes it when you read a book out loud for him

tries to compete with remus on how many movies he can watch in a row without falling asleep

he loses of course

he complains about sirius' smoking (stop acting like a saint prongs) but he takes a few drags when he's too stressed

now that's the thing- james potter doesn't like to burden others with his stress

he keeps things to himself when he's not joking

his glossy eyes give him away though

precious boy

he blinks a few quick tears on your neck when it gets too much

let's keep going with happy james because i can't handle the thought of him being sad

the best hugger ever!!!

strong arms, broad chest, smells perfect, knows how to squeeze your body with the best amount of pressure

you forget everything when he holds you

he never pulls away from a hug first

just my dream guy

another thing- he is so proud of himself when you laugh at his jokes

has a group chat with remus and sirius

never stops sending memes, sometimes drives remus insane

his spotify playlists are so complicated because his music taste changes with every song

he wants you to choose the music every time you're in his car

guys- james potter brainrot is something else, i swear i love him so much

that's all for now, let me know if you'd like a part 2

[gilbertscurls]

pissed off — matt sturniolo

summary: “i'm not pissed off, that's just my face.”

You had never really liked Matt. He had this permanent scowl, the kind of face that made you think he was perpetually pissed off at the world. Every time you saw him, whether it was at his apartment with Chris or running into him at the store, his expression seemed locked into a constant state of irritation.

Which, if you were being honest, rubbed you the wrong way.

It didn’t help that whenever you and Chris hung out, Matt would appear out of nowhere, usually with a sarcastic comment or a judgmental look thrown your way. You knew you shouldn’t take it personally, but after months of it, you had enough.

So when you found yourself at the Sturniolo apartment one rainy Saturday—Chris and Nick were out running an errand, and you were stuck there alone with Matt—it was all you could do to keep from snapping.

Matt sat on the opposite side of the couch, his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the TV. The silence between you was thick, the only sound coming from the rain pattering against the windows.

“Could you stop glaring at me?” you finally blurted, unable to hold back.

Matt turned his head slowly, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not glaring at you.”

“Yes, you are. You always are,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. “Every time I’m around, you look like you want to punch a wall or something.”

Matt blinked, seeming genuinely taken aback. “That’s just my face.”

You stared at him, unsure if he was messing with you or being serious. “What?”

“I’m not pissed off,” Matt said, his voice flat, but his eyes holding a faint glimmer of amusement. “That’s just how my face looks.”

You crossed your arms, not quite believing him. “You’re telling me you’ve just got… Resting pissed-off face?”

“Pretty much.”

You opened your mouth to argue, then stopped. Now that you thought about it, Matt had always looked the same way around everyone, not just you. The furrowed brows, the clenched jaw—it was his default expression. Still, it didn’t excuse the way he acted toward you.

“Okay, but what’s with the attitude, then? You’re always so—” you paused, searching for the right word, “—distant.”

Matt sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I’m not distant. I just don’t see the point in talking all the time. And you and Chris… You’ve got your thing. I figured I didn’t need to be part of it.”

You frowned, his words catching you off guard. “You think I don’t want you around?”

Matt shrugged, his gaze shifting away. “You seem to have enough fun with Chris. I didn’t think I was needed.”

You softened a little, realizing this conversation was going in a direction you hadn’t expected. “It’s not like that, Matt. Chris and I are close, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m trying to keep you out.”

He glanced at you, still guarded. “I’m not exactly the easiest person to get along with.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Matt smirked, the first real hint of a smile you’d seen from him in… well, ever.

“Look,” you continued, “I just figured you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t dislike you.” He paused, then added, “You’re just loud.”

Your jaw dropped. “I’m loud?”

Matt shrugged again, though this time the gesture was almost playful. “A little.”

You stared at him in disbelief, then laughed—an actual, genuine laugh. “Well, sorry for being loud.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice softening. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just… Different. You’re different from me.”

You considered that for a moment. You had always assumed Matt didn’t like you, that his scowls and sharp comments were directed at you specifically. But maybe he was just… Awkward. Closed off. Maybe he didn’t know how to handle someone like you, who was more expressive and, yeah, loud.

“So, all this time, you weren’t mad at me?” you asked, still a little skeptical.

“Nope,” Matt replied simply. “Like I said—just my face.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips now. “You know, if you smiled a little more, people might not think you’re always angry.”

Matt looked at you, then, with the faintest hint of a grin. “Maybe I’ll work on that.”

Silence fell between you again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. You found yourself relaxing, surprised by how different Matt seemed once you actually talked to him. Maybe he wasn’t the brooding, irritated guy you had always thought him to be. Maybe he was just… Well, Matt.

As you sat there, the rain still drumming against the windows, Matt leaned back and glanced over at you. “So… We’re good now?”

You looked at him, surprised by the question. Then, you smiled. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Matt nodded, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that wasn’t irritation or distance. It was something warmer, something real.

Maybe Matt wasn’t the enemy you’d built up in your head. Maybe he was just a guy with a rough exterior—and a resting pissed-off face—that you had misunderstood all along.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13

[otaku553]

do you have any tips for thin (anime-style) lineart? I always tend to end up with much thicker lines unintentionally X-x

It depends a lot on what exactly you’d like to achieve, but my biggest recommendation would be to change brushes if your lines are naturally coming out too thick. Not just because of brush size, but because the kind of brush you use will change how you line things, technique-wise.

As an example I’ve tried lining a sketch using two different brushes here:

Though they’re both from the same sketch, in the first I used a thin brush with high stablization and almost no pressure sensitivity. As a result, I’m forced to line slightly slower, and it looks slightly stiff but achieves the sort of clean anime look you usually expect to see— almost no line breaks! This is the standard for anime I think because you have to have clean and closed line boundaries so that coloring and shading can go quickly.

On the other hand, on the right, I’ve used one I’m a bit more accustomed to, a round textured brush with a lot of pressure sensitivity. It’s also got lower stabilization, meaning I work quicker, my strokes are a lot more spontaneous, and you see a lot more natural variation in line width. That’s what I mean also by it depends on what you want to achieve— though this is also an anime style you wouldn’t find it as a screenshot anywhere because that line width variance would probably look really inconsistent in animation.

I als only switched to this round brush relatively recently, about half a year ago now??? Previously most of my lineart was done with a rectangular brush which also tended to yield thicker lineart than expected.

I would suggest playing around with different brush shapes and settings, especially in stabilization and pressure sensitivity, since I think those are often what affects my drawing style the most! You can do a similar exercise to this and try lining the same sketch multiple times with different brushes to test which feels best for you. Hope this helps!

[mrsbarnesblog]

one step at a time

masterlist

summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.

words count: 6.5k

warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending

a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘

You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.

Rafe Cameron.

He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.

Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 

The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 

Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 

You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 

“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.

“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 

“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”

Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 

Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 

“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 

“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 

“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”

Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 

Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 

Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 

“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 

You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 

“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.

“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.

You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 

After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 

You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 

You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.

The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  

“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 

“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 

You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 

That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 

“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 

When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 

Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 

Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 

At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.

It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  

The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.

It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”

Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.

“He cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”

“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.

“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 

He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.

What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.

Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.

He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.

Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.

“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“

“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.

“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.

“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”

“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 

After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 

As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 

But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 

You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 

You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.

“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”

He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 

“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 

In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.

“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.

“I care about you. You are my friend.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 

You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”

“Yesterday morning.” 

“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 

Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 

You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 

Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 

You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 

But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 

As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 

The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 

It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 

After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 

He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 

Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 

Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 

Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 

A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 

Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you

k, i’ll be there in fifteen

When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 

That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 

You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 

“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 

“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 

How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?

“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.

“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.

Touchy, but never overstepping. 

“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 

“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 

You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 

The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 

You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 

“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 

“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 

“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 

You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 

“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 

“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 

You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.

Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.

You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.

A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.

You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 

Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 

“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.

“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.

“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”

“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.

“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”

You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.

And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 

The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.

"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."

You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sixers who care about you too.”

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts. 

[fightingthetides]

Ravein would concur with Nunnally’s thoughts that the kitchen here was very warm and had an inviting atmosphere. Though, there was an element of being intimidating to someone who didn’t know their way around making coffee or tea, but aside from that, it was clear that the kitchen was designed and decorated with comfort and homeliness in mind. It really was nice here, and it spoke volumes to how quickly he acclimated and found this place to be ‘home’.

Ravein pauses to think about her question before he flips through a few pages in his notebook.

[Both]

It was good to know her preferences so he could try finding a mug that would be suitable for now and it would serve as a guideline to help find a personal mug for her use later. He would consult with Roberto on the matter and they could both keep their eye out for a mug that she may like.

Thin edges, shades of blues, oranges, or reds. Birds or intense colors… they didn’t have any with birds on them. Ravein logged the information in his mind for future reference and he cross-referenced with some of the mugs they currently had. He rummaged through one of the cupboards, remembering there was a plain red mug in the back. It didn’t have thin edges, but they weren’t too thick either. It was probably the best fit for now. He presents her the mug and waits for her approval or rejection.

Her comment about getting it together with him stuck out in his mind. Perhaps she wanted the opportunity to go shopping for a mug together? That way they could ensure that the mug she got was something of her tastes- which was the most efficient way of going about it, even if it did require some planning ahead of time around their schedules.

[Go together?]

It couldn’t be too dangerous to go looking for some mugs together. Who would ever expect that a guy on the run (and in disguise) would be shopping around for cute mugs? No one would suspect such bold behavior- so it was like reverse-psychology, almost. Besides, unless they wished to get in trouble with the local law enforcement, it wouldn’t do anyone any good to cause a scene in such an enclosed public space.

Nunnally did remember that he felt unnerved by the approach of others, especially given his history and his circumstances. Though late, she did belatedly recall this fact and apologize. A small thing, but he appreciated it all the same. He nods his head to show that he accepted her apology. He wasn’t totally put off by it, so it was fine. It would just take some time for him to truly accept her touch without first inwardly panicking first.

Something in his gut told him that it would happen eventually, in time. Even with him and Roberto, there was a sense of distance because the older man was being considerate towards Ravein. It didn’t mean that he always kept a strict distance, however. It was important for Ravein to slowly become acclimated to the touch of others if he wanted to become a part of normal society. Exposure therapy with someone he trusted was important- even if it made Ravein uncomfortable for a while.

The bunny man watched as Nunnally was preparing the drinks, curious to see what she had planned for them. His ears were also paying attention to what was going on behind him. He could hear that Roberto was handling customers, taking a few orders. Once he finished taking all the orders, he’d come into the back to start making the beverages.

In a matter of minutes, the older man came back into the kitchen, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you, Miss Nunnally. I have a few drinks to prepare for customers.” He gives Ravein a look and motions for the younger to stay seated. He could handle this small order of drinks himself. “I promise I won’t sneak a peak at what you’re making.” He cracks a small joke towards Nunnally, who was still preparing the drinks.

“Preferences for a mug for today or for a mug that we are going to get for me soon?” – she asked cheerfully; it would be too much to say that Nunnally got used to this kind of conversation with Ravein, when she had to fill in gaps or missing information. She had never considered herself to be too good at it, but it wasn't that she minded it too much either.

She had always lived in an environment clouded with secrecy, although Nunnally might not have been always aware of it. Though she perceived Ravein secretive, she didn't see his silent nature in the same way as she was thinking about her own father. Mr. Ambly des Ayvalles. Her father.

Even during the times she believed he was merely a successful businessman, her father had spoken little, often leaving her to guess or figure things out on her own. Perhaps he thought he had been clear enough? Nunnally could never truly decide. The ambiguity of his words and actions created a veil of mystery around him; one she rarely dared to penetrate. Even back then. When he was j u s t her father. It was now much clearer for her as she reflected on her childhood and early teen years trying to identify what had gone so wrong. After she had learnt the truth...

With her father, she preferred not to ask questions, fearing the disappointment of trying and failing to understand (or rather to please) him. His silence was a wall she had learned to navigate around rather than to confront. This unspoken distance between them left her feeling isolated (unhappy even), always yearning for a connection that seemed just out of reach.

In contrast, Roberto’s kitchen, with its warm, inviting atmosphere, offered a different environment. Here, she felt (more) comfortable and relaxed, even though she was surrounded by unfamiliar things and sights. The presence of Ravein added a layer of comfort, a stark difference from the guarded interactions she had grown accustomed to at home. Or rather in her life in general.

Probably that was the reason Nunnally continued speaking not really giving Ravein any time to proceed with a reply in his notebook.

“Any mug will do for now…I like the thin edges though…”

A pause.

“I like all various shades of blues…Oranges or reds…” – true, she liked intense colours, but it was also a sort of a new situation for her, when she was to decide what she wanted. She had learnt not to care about details like that. But her very own mug here… Well, that was a much more difficult decision in Nunnally's eyes.

What would she like?

Initially she had thought 'birds' or 'ladybugs' or 'polka dots'. While she would surely like all of them, Nunnally suddenly thought they might be too a v e r a g e for a special occasion like this one: getting her mug here. But what would be special?

“Anything that you choose Ravein…” – she said realizing that it was not about the mug but about getting it together with him – “You know…” – she continued slightly surprising herself with that – “It’s not really about the mug but about getting it with you…”

“But I like birds… and intense colors…” – Nunnally added, feeling unusually relaxed. In her ease, she reached out to fix his hair, a gesture so natural for her that she forgot to be cautious. Though he showed no visible reaction, the moment she withdrew her hand, she realized her mistake. She should have asked for p e r m i s s i o n before touching him. She suddenly remembered how uncomfortable Ravein was with anyone, except perhaps Roberto, invading his personal space. Though was he comfortable with Roberto? She had never witnessed these two interacting without her being involved (mainly in a bad way), so she could not be sure either.

The realization brought a faint flush of embarrassment onto her cheeks. She had overstepped a boundary. Again. What was a causal form of intimacy for her, was probably something else for Ravein. Nunnally had only hoped that he would understand that her gesture had come from a place of affection and not disregard for his feelings.: --

“I…I am sorry.” – she hoped he would understand what she was apologizing for as she didn’t find it in herself to provide more explanation.

And she simply focused on preparing the drinks. Though his return to his chair poured some hope that her overstepping was not as much unwelcomed as she initially had thought.

[orbweaverspidergirl]

the memories you left behind (they never left me): Act 1

"And all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear." - Duvet by Boa

summary: Jason Todd was your twin. He was your brother through thick and thin, and nothing would ever change that, but his death does. You see him every day, but he’s not really there. You wish he was.

tw: minor talk of being hit, bruises, and drugs.

The truth is you were never very strong. When your daddy would hit you and Jason would take the brunt of the force, you would blame yourself. If you were stronger, faster, smarter than you could have protected Jason too. Just like how he protected you. 

But you weren’t. All you were was weak. You were pathetic and useless, just like your daddy said. 

Then, he went to prison.

It was just you, Jay, and mama. Your mom was far easier to handle than daddy was, so that’s what you did. When she was cracked out on whatever new drugs roamed the city streets, you and your brother would take care of her. She didn’t really take care of you, but you were okay with that, because Jason and you took care of each other. If you think about it, nothing really changed. There were just less bruises and hurtful words Jason would try to convince you weren’t really true, but you knew they were. You may not have been the sharpest crayon in the box, but you certainly weren’t the dullest. 

As you got into middle school, people thought your brother was scary, but he wasn’t scary, he was just afraid. He was afraid of your stupid dad and drugged-out mom, but most of all he was afraid of losing you. 

You were the only peace he had left. 

You thought he was dumb when he would say that. There was nothing peaceful about you. You didn’t mean it in an edgy way, but that’s just how it was. You didn’t have a peaceful dad, mom, neighbors, and certainly not school life. The only peace you could have given Jay was your death. You suppose that came to truth years later, but it wasn’t your death, and his certainly wasn’t peaceful. 

Eventually, you got a job, well if you call pickpocketing and robbing rich people of their wallet’s a job. Obviously, that stopped working when people became more cautious, because of course they did. 

Then, one day, your mom died. 

You guessed her body couldn’t take it anymore and she had a seizure right on the kitchen floor. You tried calling the cops, and you did, they just never came. You weren’t shocked, they never do. Of course, you got kicked out soon after. No cash means you can’t pay rent, and no rent means you’re homeless. That’s when things really changed. 

You and Jason needed money, so you started targeting rich people. Not necessarily them, but their assets. You and Jason weren’t bold enough to break into someone’s home, so you targeted their cars. One day, you and he slept in an alleyway. It wasn’t comfortable and certainly not safe, but you had no other choice. That was until you saw a fancy car pull up. A man in all black with his hair slicked walked out and you could smell the brand designer clothes he had on. 

You both crept along his car when he left, and you struggled taking off the wheel with Jay. You both struggled so much you didn’t even hear the big man behind you. Thinking back on it, it was kinda comical on how both of you turned your head at the same time when Bruce made his appearance be known. 

Then, it was history. 

[imreidswifey]

Do I Wanna Know?

-S.r Fanfic-

A Spencer Reid x Reader Fanfiction

Summary: Set against the backdrop of a quiet bar and the haunting melody of “Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys, you and Spencer confront the fears and uncertainties that have kept you apart, you’ll discover that sometimes the hardest conversations lead to the deepest connections.

Warnings

Themes of emotional tension: Mentions of unspoken feelings and longing.

Mentions of past trauma: Brief references to the challenges of FBI work and Reid’s personal struggles.

Mild language: Includes mild swearing.

Angst with comfort: Emotional vulnerability from both characters.

————————————-———————————————

The air was heavy, thick with unsaid words and unresolved tension. It had been weeks since the case in New York, the one that had left you reeling. Spencer Reid had been quieter than usual, his conversations with you laced with an unspoken longing that mirrored your own. Tonight, though, something felt different.

The team had returned from another grueling case, and you found yourself at the bar near the FBI office, nursing a drink while the others shared laughter and stories in the background. Spencer was there too, sitting at the far end, his fingers tracing the edge of his glass of water. He caught your eye, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like the room went silent.

He looked tired, his usually vibrant hazel eyes darkened by the weight of sleepless nights and too many horrific memories cataloged in his brilliant mind. You’d seen that look before—seen it and ignored the way it pulled at your heart. But not tonight.

As Arctic Monkeys’ “Do I Wanna Know?” began to hum through the speakers, you felt a strange sense of synchronicity, like the song was meant for the two of you.

You slid off your stool and walked over to him. He looked up, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Hey,” you said softly, sitting beside him.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice barely audible over the music.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The song continued to play, the lyrics weaving a story of unspoken desire and uncertainty.

“Have you got color in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the tide that sticks around like something in your teeth?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” Spencer began, his fingers now nervously twisting the hem of his sweater vest. “Are you… alright? After New York, I mean.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. You’d spent so much time worrying about him, you hadn’t expected him to be worrying about you.

“I’m fine,” you lied, but the way his gaze locked onto yours told you he didn’t believe it.

“Fine is a four-letter word that rarely means what it should,” he murmured, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, and for a moment, the tension eased. But the song’s chorus pulled you back into the current of everything unsaid.

“Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you’d stay…”

“Spencer,” you said, your voice low but steady. “Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“Do you ever… feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, but you’re too afraid to jump?”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like you’d just read one of his guarded thoughts out loud.

“All the time,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Especially when it comes to… you.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. The world seemed to blur around you, leaving only Spencer and the weight of his words.

“Spencer, I…”

He interrupted, his hand reaching out to gently cover yours. His touch was warm, grounding.

“I think about you. More than I probably should. And it terrifies me because I don’t know if you feel the same, and I’m not sure I could handle it if you didn’t.”

Your lips parted, the confession stealing the air from your lungs.

“Spence,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that. I’ve been waiting because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, but…” You trailed off, searching for the right words.

“But?” he prompted, his voice tinged with hope.

“But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel the same.”

The faintest smile crossed his lips, and for the first time that night, the shadows in his eyes seemed to lift.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked, his voice filled with a quiet confidence you hadn’t expected.

You nodded, and as you both stood, the song’s final notes seemed to echo your unspoken promises.

“Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ’Cause I always do…”

As you stepped out into the cool night air, Spencer’s hand brushed against yours, hesitant but hopeful. You took it, lacing your fingers together.

For the first time, the unspoken between you wasn’t a barrier—it was an invitation.

[dreamypjs]

Forever and ever₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡.

(♡)synopsis: As the clock struck midnight, welcoming in the new year, You couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia mixed with excitement.

➜ warnings: SUPER CHEESY !! No but fr there’s none ts pure fluff :) enjoy ml !! 💌

You glanced over at Jay, Your high school sweetheart, who had been by your side through countless milestones, heartaches, and triumphs. His hand was warm in yours that wore a big diamond ring, a reminder of the bond him and you had since your teenage years, that turned into something more.

Fingers interlocked as if they had been meant to fit together all along. Exchanging a knowing smile, one that carried the weight of shared memories—the late-night drives, nervous prom photos, and whispered dreams about the future.

having grown together so much since those days of exchanging flirty looks in the hallways, giggling and whispering to your friends about him, sharing milkshakes at the local diner, and the many times your dad had thrown him out of your house because he didn’t approve of him. Jay never giving up and eventually proving to be a man of respect, kindness, and a very responsible one. His actions always matching his words.

Back then, dreaming of a future together that seemed unobtainable, yet here y’all were, stepping into another chapter of life together. Jay’s smile—still as infectious as it had been the first time you saw it—softened as he pulled you closer.

"Sometimes I still wonder how I got so lucky” jay says looking into your eyes with pure adoration. "What do you mean" you furrow your eyebrows cutely “Lucky to have you. You make everything better, just by being you.”

You gently squeeze his hand taking it to your cheek holding it close to your face and taking in a deep breath "you know how much you mean to me Jay, I feel the same. You’ve always had this way of making me feel… so at ease. Like, no matter what’s going on, everything will be okay when I’m with you.” Your eyes soften when they meet his, the tenderness that lingers in the gaze making your cheeks warm up and your stomach erupt with butterflies feeling like the teenage girl who fell in love with Jay many years ago all over again.

gently kissing the top of your head Jay says "I’m so grateful that I get to be the one who gets to give you all my love every day.I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. You make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

All teary-eyed but smiling you respond “You’re everything to me, Jay. I love you so much.” You hug him tightly accompanied by a soft smile, and looking up at him with a gaze that seems to say, I see you, I cherish you, and I’m home when I’m with you. It’s a silent promise, a reflection of deep affection, vulnerability, and a deep connection.

Your heart swelled. Being together through thick and thin, each moment shaping both of you into the people you had become. The new year stretched out before you and Jay, Together, you and him vowed to make it the best one yet, a year filled with laughter, adventures, and the kind of love that only grows stronger with time.

As the countdown began on the TV, Jay gently held your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm. “This year has been the best, every year I’ve spent with you has been, I never want it to change,” he whispered.

“Ten… nine…”

Y/N grinned, her heart racing. “I can’t imagine life without you…" your voice broke at the sheer thought of not having him in your life

“Three… two…”

Without waiting for the clock to strike twelve, Jay leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The fireworks outside burst in vibrant colors as the new year officially began, but to you and Jay , time seemed to stand still. Holding you so close and whispering in your ear "I’m right here I’ll always be, I promise my pretty girl" he says, gently stroking your hair.

Jay brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes holding that same warmth you had fallen for years ago. “Here’s to us,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with the kind of conviction that only years of shared memories could bring, raising his glass. “To another year of making it all count.”

“Can you believe another year’s gone by?” You said softly, looking at Jay, Your eyes reflecting the twinkle of the lights. You realized that while the world might change and time might pass, some things—like the love you and Jay shared—were timeless.

“Happy New Year, my love ,” Jay murmured against your lips, his voice filled with love.You smiled, your cheeks warm. “Happy New Year, Jay.” You peck his lips, his cologne blending with the crisp scent of the evening. In this moment, surrounded by love and hope for the future, the world felt perfect.

You look up at him, and his eyes are already on you, “I don’t know what the new year will bring,” he says softly, “but I know I want to face it all with you and…” he trails off before gently resting his hand over yours that was resting on your perfect little bump, that symbolizes the new life that you and Jay had created with so much love. A heartwarming sight that radiates anticipation and joy., as Jay placed his hand gently on your belly he quickly felt the subtle movements of the baby. “I can’t believe this time next year, she’ll be here with us,” he said, his voice full of emotion.

standing close together indulging in the each other’s embrace on the balcony, the glow of the new year, dreaming of the moment when you’d both finally meet your baby—Jays and yours greatest gift waiting just around the corner. ♡ ♡ ♡

✉️ જ⁀➴ ♡: Hii!! I hope you enjoyed and tysm for reading!! Rebloging won’t hurt hahah…👀Anyway I was sad I couldn’t post for Christmas I was too busy so I’m posting ts for new years :) A goal I have for 2025 is to write more so I’ll try to be more active on here. Pls I’m begging leave requests they are open. I need to know what ppl wan to read yk? But that’s it I hope you have a good day/night and have a happy New Year!

[regicidal-defenestration]

The language part (ie the Main Actual Game) of Chants of Sennaar is very fun don't get me wrong - figuring out when a radical means person, or signifies a verb, etc etc - but the number system is absolutely fascinating

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[keeps-ache]

okay i'm out of evil mode. peace love and a little bit of still-tired on planet earth lol 🧃