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celestiamour · 21 hours ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied.

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past.

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark.

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel.

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all.

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep.

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake.

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours.

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back.

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction.

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later.

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine.

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease.

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station.

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road.

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough.

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.

#📜. her works #the salesman #the salesman x reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid game #squid game x reader

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abrthephantomq · 23 hours ago

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You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.

Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --

GAZLENE --

what? Am I wrong?

Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.

Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?

Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.

What happened last week?

...........Dib. You know what happened last week.

I don't, actually -- oh no...

What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?

Fuck I overshot.

What do you mean, you overshot?

Gaz, what year is it?

It's 2001. Why?

Month?

September --

Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.

How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --

BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.

What?

That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.

What the hell, Dib --

:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?

Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."

Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?

[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]

Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.

Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)

Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.

This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.

Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?

All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes

#lmao serious tho #i got a comment this morning that was just KUDOS over and over and a keysmash #and i have been on cloud nine all day #like awww yay you wanna see where this fic is going?#man i hope you know you're in for a wild ride #because i dont know either #lolololol #❤️ love y'all #invader zim #encoder/recorder AU #class clown #work in progress #agent m #signing off

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warmilikeit · 23 hours ago

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Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Prologue

______________________________

You woke up as a baby, daughter of a waitress and some unknown guy, your grandmother (mom's mom) kept telling you that you were weighing her daughter's life down, whatever, that old hag died a few months after you were born

It was bad enough that you were born poor, it's the fact that you were born poor in GOTHAM

Fake Mom was a waitress and she worked with a catering job, at one of her jobs, at a charity gala with some rich people, she had sex with a rich dude there, she didn't know she was pregnant and you were a surprise

But it didn't matter, you were hers and she loved you, she didn't have much to give you because you were poor, but what little thing she had, she gave to you

That meant nothing to you, she wasn't your actual mom, your real mom had a nice crib for you to sleep in, not some moldy probably a 4th hand one, your real mom took time off her work to properly take care of you, not put you in a baby carrier and bring you to jobs like cashier, janitress and other stuff

She wasn't your actual mom.

You didn't care, you're not supposed to care.

You were merely 6 months old, at your crib, you were trying to sleep, key word. Try, but your fake mom's cries were too loud, you didn't understand her anguish, it was just a fever, you've had fevers before, why is your fake mom freaking out about your fever now

"I'm so sorry my baby... Mommy can't afford to buy the medicine-" she stops as she hears your heavy breathing, you are struggling to breathe "mommy is very selfish... If I gave you to your dad, he could get you the medicine, maybe you wouldn't get sick at all- but that would mean you are away from mommy- I'm really sorry baby.... I'll work harder"

She took a wet cloth and placed it on your forehead, she hung her head low and cried

You thought she was being dramatic, all this crying for a fever?

______________________________

Now you're 6, you don't know if fake mommy is stupid or what but there's no light and the electric fan stopped spinning, there was only one fan in your apartment, did she forget to pay the electric bill or... Did you guys not have enough money, you can't ask her that because fake mommy is at work, who leaves a 6 year old at home!?

If fake mommy can't pay, you'll do something about it, you were not going to spend a hot night without a fan, you go to explore and you grab some wild flowers off the streets and tie them with long leaves, then you sell

You forgot to leave a note.

When you get home, there's cops, your fake mom is crying and she sees you, she runs to hug "God! (Name) Where did- did you go, I- was so worried!" She cried and sobbed, the cops went away after some time

You hand her 12 dollars "I sold flowers, 2 dollars a bouquet, the lights went out, so I sold, we don't have any money to pay right?"

Your fake mom smiles at you, "my thoughtful baby... Mommy just forgot to pay because... Mommy enrolled you in school!" She said excitedly,You raised your eyebrows "how much money do we have? Won't we go bankrupt?"

But your fake mom is crazy because she just laughs and hugs you

You hated being poor, being poor means you get bullied, it means you can't buy the stuff you want, it means using stuff someone else already used, it means your lunch would also be your dinner

You hated it

Because it also meant being looked down on, being the smartest kid in class (ofc) means nothing if your school bag had holes and patched up, it meant sometimes you'll see other kids your age buy something you wanted

It didn't matter, you could make do, you avoided being bullied and actually became popular by showing off, you landed bottle flips, you could do a handstand, needless to say, you were definitely invited to birthday parties, plus you were smart and well-behaved, parents and teachers love you, it didn't matter if you brought a present or not, all that matters is your presence

And when your birthday rolled around, the kids got used to the fact you were too poor to hold a birthday party, that didn't matter to them, to those kids and parents, you were the kindest person they've ever met, so they gave you presents, at first you tried to refuse (because you were ashamed you couldn't give them anything that's not handmade to their parties) but they insisted

Your fake mom was always busy, with so many jobs, she couldn't attend all award ceremonies and PTC's

You just won for the best science project in the fair (despite having the least resources), you were fine with fake mom not being able to attend the award ceremony, she was out cleaning someone's house after all

"where is her mom?"

"I don't know, but that poor kid, she's so sweet and smart, I feel bad that she has a mother like that"

"I heard (Name)'s mother got pregnant with (Name) while she was at college, thank God that (Name) won't end up like her, how could such a talented girl end up with a mother like that? She couldn't even attend her own daughter's award ceremony"

"the mom is probably off somewhere sucking someone's dick, if she gets pregnant again, I hope the kid takes after (Name)"

"(Name)! Sweetheart! Mommy's here! Oh sorry I'm late, I was at work" you fake mom smiles as she runs at you, she looks at your blue ribbon and hugs you "You're so smart baby! Mommy is so proud"

______________________________

You're 8 and you earn 5 dollars for every lawn you cut grass for, some of the people even give you snacks! You're already an entrepreneur! You smile to yourself, you weren't going to be like your fake mom, you were going to be rich, so maybe you and fake mom can get out of the cockroach infested house and fake mom won't work for an awful manager who hits on her and she won't clean toilets just so the both of you have something to eat

You come home with 40 dollars, you plan to give 30 to your fake mom for the bills and you keep 10 as a reward, but when you open the door your met with a bang

A bang from a party popper "Happy birthday my sweetheart!" Fake mom says

You look at the cake and decorations, you sigh, the money out in this could have been used for groceries

Your fake mom seemed to read your mind "Oh hush my baby, it's only once a year! Plus this is nothing to what you do for my birthday!"

That's a lie, your fake mommy is lying, your birthday decorations for her were handmade by you and her cake was just a muffin because you couldn't afford something more expensive, your birthdays were much more grander than hers

You give her the 30 dollars, you try to give her, but it seemed to make her sad, he smile wore off

Did you do something? Shouldn't she be happy? You were providing and helping!

"I'm sorry you think you have to do this my baby... You should be playing outside- not- not working, I want you to be a kid! Don't work anymore okay?"

But you're not a kid okay! You're reincarnated! And your previous life was much better than now!

So your fake mom should just let you help! Because you're trying to make things easier for her, why won't she let you help!?

But you keep it all to yourself and you and your fake mommy celebrate your fake birthday

______________________________

You're 10, and your fake mom seems... Weaker?? Is that how you put it? Her eye bags seem darker and her skin looks paler, you don't like this look from her, your fake mom is a pretty woman, who would have married good if it weren't for you, nevermind

You don't want your fake mom getting ugly, so every 9:00 pm you crash into her work place and you don't care if she still needs to keep on working and her shift ends at 9:30, your fake mom needs sleep! Someone else can cover for her

It's her birthday when she starts coughing, she starts coughing bad. The sounds were coarse and harsh, it hurt to even hear the coughs, you didn't want to know how it felt like

She grabs a tissue and coughs into it, you're sure you saw blood

Usually you're a master of minding their own business, but this time you rummage, you rummage through your mom's fake mom's room, and you find it, doctor appointments, medical certificates (when did she even go to the hospital!?), fake mom is sick, really sick, why didn't she tell you???

When your fake mom gets home, you show her what you found, instead of confronting you she acts like it's nothing, you get mad, of course you do, why wouldn't you?

"Mom are you crazy? Why didn't you tell me? The bill is huge? And why would you keep on working!? Did you forget what a sick person does? They rest!" You cry yell

She just smiled at you??? Is this woman crazy? "What was I supposed to do? Sweetheart, these things are for me okay? Don't worry about it, I'll be fine... Did you do your homework? If you haven't I can help you"

"I did... Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to pull me out of school" you say

"what why? Are you being bullied? You can tell me"

"No I'm not! If you pull me out of school, instead of worrying about my tuition, you could just pay for your medical bills and actually buy yourself some medicine and get better!"

Fake mom turns silent "You don't have to do that"

"it's the only way! We can't afford both my school and your hospital bills! Mom! Your health is much more important than some certificates! And while I'm out of school I can work as well, even though I get paid a little, money is still money I can give to you-"

"NO! A mother's job is to provide for their kids and your my kid! You don't have to go to work, you don't have to stop going to school, you don't have to think about whether you'll be able to eat tommorow and the day after that, you're a kid! You're my baby! Stop worrying about me and instead, worry about boys you like or girls you like, worry about— I want you to be a kid"

You clench your fists "How can I be!?!? You think I don't hear you!? You come home when I'm supposedly asleep so you can cry about not being able to give a better life, I can hear you! I hear everything! You hate that your manager flirts with you! You hate that the mother's at school talks about you! You hate that I'm the only kid in school who can't afford a birthday party!, I'm trying to help! I can bring in money! I tutor, I babysit, I mow lawns, I can do more if I'm out of school!" At this point you're crying

Fake mom has never yelled at you, never. Whenever you get mad she hugs you and kisses you forehead, why is she yelling at you, you just want what's best for her

______________________________

You didn't care, after school you took on more jobs, you even started doing your classmate's homework and homework from higher and lower grades for money

Fake mom's medicine... It was expensive, that didn't matter, you'll work harder, you were so tired

You started selling bread for a family bakery who felt bad for you, that kind of money doesn't come up in thin air

But you were going to try

And you did, you really did, you did whatever you could

You and fake mom had another argument when you found out she got life insurance and placed you as the sole beneficiary

Fake mom's illness got so bad that she had to quit her jobs because she didn't have the strength to even walk, the amount of blood that comes out every time she coughs kept increasing

You stopped going to school to work more, you started to sweep and mop up for local grocery stores, the owner being a dad of one of your classmates

You knew your mom wouldn't approve, so you fed her with fake science fairs, fake school plays you had to practice for so she wouldn't get suspicious why you returned home late

"Don't stay out so late sweetheart, the riddler just escaped Arkham" your fake mom would warn you with a hint of love in her voice

If you could just make it work, even for half of the money you need, maybe you could put a down payment, and they'd give you the medicine and you'll pay them back later

So why wasn't your fake mom waking up?

You got home, after grueling hours of painting fences, you plan to tell your fake mom that you were just painting some backdrops for a school play

"Mommy?" You call out, you expect your fake mom to be either watching on a broken down TV or probably sewing some of your clothes with holes on them

It's eerie quiet, a quiet you don't like "Mama?" You see her in a chair, asleep and eyes closed

Is she that tired? "Mommy, do you want noodles? I'll make some?"

....

.........

"Mommy?"

You shake her body trying to wake her

Nothing.

"Mommy?"

Your heart drops "No... No. No. No. No. No. No... No!" You keep shaking and shaking her but nothing, it was then you notice her lips have gone horrifyingly pale

"no.. this- this- help! Someone help us please!" You yell trying to call your neighbors, someone, anyone!

______________________________

"I'm sorry kid, Your mom's gone, we'll try to find any other relatives you have" the police officer looks at you with pity

"I don't have any relatives left" you say

You're not going to cry, why would you? She wasn't your real mom, she- she....

Fuck, now you're crying, you're doing what you said you wouldn't do

The officer knelt to you and hugged you "We'll find you another loving family, one that will buy you toys and-"

"I don't want another loving family! I want my mommy! I want my mom" you cry

"it's okay... Everything is going to be okay" he pats your back

After a few days at the orphanage, the news came, everyone was shocked, a few staff who got attached to you were happy you'll be with someone who could provide, a few staff who also got attached to you angry that he abandoned such a sweet girl, a DNA match to the one and only Bruce Wayne, that man is your father.

You stand In front of doors a hundred times bigger than you, you see him- no you see them.

The infamous Wayne family, all in their glory

"Father, will it stay with us permanently" Damian asks

Dick the older one laughed and responded "Unfortunately for her, she will stay here"

Holy shit, you think

Holy shit.

Is this? No it can't be...

You refuse to believe you reincarnated in a Batfam x neglected reader story- surely not-

Welcome Reader! To the Neglected AU!

Prologue: dead mom- finished

Progress:100%

Chapter 1: "I wished I stayed at the orphanage"- start!

Progress: 0%

The screen appears In front of you

"Fuck" you whisper

______________________________

Alr so technically this is the prologue, "yes" won Soo...

Also goodbye mom

My ass wrote this with a fever, while playing chess with my cousin, I'm built diff like that

Also I won, if you want pics of the chessboard and the thermometer I'll provide🔥

#dc universe #dcu #yandere #yandere batfam #yandere platonic #yandere barbara gordon #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd #yandere duke thomas #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne #yandere stephanie brown #warmisekaidc

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lis-likes-fics · 3 days ago

Text

eddie munson drabble

cw: smut, swearing, aftercare. 1.5k words.

Eddie Munson is a talker.

Eddie doesn't know how to shut up during sex. When he's balls deep inside of you, your arms pinned over your head as he fucks you, he's a constant spout of curses and pants and groans and words of “you're so tight” or “you're so pretty” or anything along those lines.

It's nice, though, and you enjoy it: his constant praise, his reassurance that you're making him feel good just by the way he breathes.

But you're not loud. You can't help it—you're shy. When Eddie's making love to you, you express your pleasure in gentle sighs and tiny moans. Sometimes you whine a little louder than you mean to, or a gasp is sharper than intended. You don't need to say much. Eddie speaks enough for the both of you.

But there's something about this position that gets you.

He doesn't do it a lot—mostly because you don't end up in this position a lot. Eddie is usually between your legs, or maybe you're on top of him, something simple and effective. You enjoy it either way.

But in times like these—which you seem to keep rare—where he's got you on your knees, one hand on your hip and the other wrapped gently around your throat, you seem to lose control.

It's not on purpose. You enjoy the little sounds, the gentleness. Eddie does, too. He loves his shy girl more than anything.

But when you're on your knees, you're nothing but shy. It surprises him so much that he's the quiet one compared to you.

Eddie's fucking you nice and deep, fast thrusts that have you gasping and seeing stars. You grip the sheets and let your head fall limp on his hold as you moan and whine loud enough to be heard clearly in the living room. (Granted it's a small trailer, but usually Eddie has to focus in to hear you when he's only inches away.)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, your breaths rough and raspy. “Oh, fuck, don't stop. Please, please, please.”

Your words are pitchy and loud. They sound like you might actually be crying as his hips slam into yours. He has to keep checking to make sure you aren't.

“That feel good, sweetheart?” he asks, his grip tightening on your hip. “You like bein’ fucked like this?”

You nod quickly, a tearful huff slipping out of you. “Yes, Eddie! Yes, so much. Feels so fucking good, baby. Please don't stop, please.”

He's drunk on the sound of you. There's something so special about hearing you express your pleasure so much. He loves you shy, but this version of you also has a very special place in his heart.

“Won't stop, sweetheart,” he huffs. “Won't stop ‘til you fuckin’ cum for me. I'll have you cryin’, huh? You wanna cry for me, baby?”

You nod your head into the pillow, gripping the sheets until your knuckles pale. “Yes, yes, yes. Yes, make me cry for you, Eddie. God, fuck.”

Eddie's breath is thick, coming out in harsh puffs at the sound of your pleas. He reaches one hand to your clit, rubbing at it and grunting at the way you cry out.

“Fuck. Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Eddie. You're gonna make me cum, Eddie.” Your voice is thick with pleasure, your breaths shaky.

Eddie's thrusts are unsteady now, shorter and rougher as he nears his own release. “Yeah? You feel good, baby?”

You're chanting “yes” over and over like a prayer on your tongue, each one more faithful than the last. His name slips from your lips again, and it feels like an orgasm on its own with the way the E erupts, the way the D’s stick on your tongue like honey, the I drags out in a desperate cry.

You choke on the pleasure, and you do it with joy. “Oh, God, Eddie,” you gasp. The names so close together, an interesting pair, makes sense in this moment when his cock thrusts into you and makes you see stars you could easily be convinced he placed in the sky himself.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, please,” you beg, burying your face in the sheets on the mattress as he grips your hips and smacks his hips into them. You bite down on the, the cheat cotton indented with the shape of your teeth as your pitchy moans turned into a sound that mimics a growl.

Eddie's going to lose it, looking down at you and seeing the way he's making you so feral. You're like a wolf tasting lamb for the first time, a delicate and addictive taste that has your mouth watering and your hunger running deeper than instinct.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his thrusts sloppy and his finger a messy, almost rough circle on your clit. “You look so—fuckin’ pretty like this. So fucked out on my cock, screamin’ my name like a fuckin’ angel.”

Tears have unblurred your vision as they slip down your cheeks. You can't help it. What you're feeling is reaching down into your soul and unleashing a lust that you hadn't known existed until the very first time he had you like this. It takes you by surprise each time, fills you up and leaves you wanting.

“Eddie. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, my God, Eddie.” Your voice will be sore in the morning, if the roughness of its sound now is any indication. “I-I'm gonna cum for you, Eddie. Eddie, you're gonna make me fuckin’ cum, Eddie.”

Your words are climbing higher and higher, the pitches rising like the prayers you were just sending to him ascending to the sky. You echo his name as the waves grow, charging on you with force and speed, but bating you all the same.

A harsh thrust makes you choke, and as you take a breath in, the water consumes you, and then you choke on that. You cry out his name, claw at the sheets—which fall from your mouth in disregard as you gasp around the pleasure.

The waves wash over you, crash after crash after crash, a swell of pleasure all over you. You go blind with it, your hands flexing straight.

Eddie keeps rubbing at your clit, slamming into you. As you clench down around his cock, a tight, crushing hug that makes him stagger, he follows right after you. “Ah, fuck, sweetheart,” he huffs, a moan squirming out of him as he buries himself to the hilt, listening as your pussy squelches around him.

He curses as you gasp, riding the high together as every atom in your body buzzes with pleasure. You cry out his name, rambling “I love you. Fuck, you're fucki—Ahh, I love you. S’fuckin’ perfect.” Half your words are cut off by moans or more words, other times they're blurred into the same until you're not quite sure what's been said.

His sounds are relatively the same. Stacked on top of each other, you both ramble as you burst, mewling as you're filled to the brim with his warmth and his love.

Your eyes blur as the crashing ends, and you fall down against his sheets. You feel yourself losing time, losing all feeling but the delightful buzz of your release. The feeling of his hands pawing at your flesh comes into focus later, along with the weight partially bearing itself onto you in his own creeping exhaustion.

You blink heavily, humming when you feel the warmth of chest on your back and the love of his lips at your neck, tickling behind your ear. “So pretty,” he whispers between kisses to your skin. “You did fuckin’ amazing for me, princess. So good, baby. So perfect.”

You bask in his care, in the haze of his cooing. His knuckles brush against your sides, rubbing into your hips as if apologizing for the bruising touch you hadn't even realized before. “Thank you for lettin’ me touch you, sweetheart,” he smiles. “So good for me.”

Your answer is a deep dumb that sits in your throat. Eventually, he turns you over and begins wiping away your tears with gentle thumbs. “You still with me?”

You nod, though your eyes are glazed and your smile is sticky. “Yeah,” you manage. “Just feel–” You take a deep breath. “Feel r’lly good.”

His smile rivals the sun. “Yeah? That's good. I'm glad.”

He leans down, kissing you so gently as he continues to embrace you with the gentlest fingers. You lift one hand, carding it through his tangled hair and rubbing the pads of your own fingers into his scalp. He hums.

“I love you, sweetheart. You know that?” He smiles. “Even when you're screaming.”

The delicacy is broken by a shocked laugh, snort included. “Sorry,” you say between bumpy giggles. “I just get excited.”

His gentler laugh is rough with the roll of his uvula at his throat. “Don't apologize. I said even when you're screaming—shoulda said ‘especially’.”

You hum again, your laugh still present but reduced to a tiny chuckle. “I love you, too.” You scratch his scalp at the back of his head so lightly, watching his lashes flutter. Then you reach up to kiss him again, his lips, then his forehead.

please support your content creators and give your feedback!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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soft-beams · 2 days ago

Note

i had a vision of pit fighter vi going to a bar and hooking up with the hot bartenders after she lost one of her matches 🙈

omg yes, absolutely.

this may have gone in a slightly different direction, oops 🫢

i feel like vi would turn to two things when she loses a match: alcohol and sex. usually at the same time. so she has her routine set, and loris lets her do what she needs to do to unwind.

she often tries to look for women who look like caitlyn. if they have the bluish-black hair or blue eyes, then vi's instantly taking them back to her small, unkempt apartment. if they have an accent too? even better because it allows vi to fully immerse herself in the fantasy she plays. where it's caitlyn who's with her and not some stranger she's going to kick out in the morning.

but there's something different this night; it doesn't start different, though. vi drowns her wounded pride and shame in bottles after bottles of booze. loris is a forever presence beside her, not getting in her way but ensuring she doesn't hurt herself too much. she's already pent-up, rearing to find herself a victim to sink her teeth into tonight when she sees you.

you're new at the bar, just started your shift, and you're mixing drinks like a pro. your smile is pretty; wide and shining as you speak with patrons and roll your eyes at sleazy flirting attempts. you seem too radiant for this place, sticking out like a sore thumb and that intrigues vi through her drunken haze. she's curious and, frankly, horny so she waves you over.

"what can i getcha?" you ask once you've made it to her side of the bar. your smile is even prettier up close, highlighting your already stunning features. vi feels herself go tongue-tied, but she recovers and aims what she knows a charmingly sloppy grin your way.

"would it be weird if i said you?" vi asks, peering up through her lashes in an attempt to be coy. "or am i overshooting here?"

"definitely overshooting," you snort, but you don't walk away. instead, you refill her drink and add, "but i wouldn't want to hit a drunk loser when she's already down."

usually, something like that would strike a nerve. and while it still does, vi doesn't feel as offended by those words as she should be. maybe it's because you're pretty. but a pretty face's never stopped her from cussing someone out before.

"i don't need your pity," vi attempts to spit out, to sound mean and intimidating. but it falls flat; sounds soft and a little slurred. "so if that's all you're offering then fuck off."

vi doesn't want you to fuck off, though.

she wants you to stay, and it's like you sense that because you don't move. in fact, you're staring at her, amused with a raised brow, that radiance of yours blinding.

"okay," you say easily. "but then you can't tell me what you actually want me here for."

vi's eyes widen, a slight jolt of shock sobering her up a bit.

"...what?"

"i know you, violet." her name rolls of your tongue perfectly. she wants to hear you say her name again. "whenever you lose a match, you drown yourself in booze and find someone to fuck." you reach for a glass behind the bar and set it on the counter. then you pour yourself a drink, smooth and elegant. "and i can only imagine that you're so interested in me because you want to fuck me, correct?"

vi swallows, feeling a bit too hot in her jacket. she doesn't answer immediately and that has you tilting your head to the side, a sly smirk gracing your pretty lips.

"do you want to fuck me, violet?"

god, yes.

"i want to fuck you," vi rasps out, flushed and pulsing between her thighs.

"good girl," you purr before tossing your drink back, showcasing the tempting curve of your throat and vi curses a little too loudly.

fuck.

#vi x reader #vi x you #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane league of legends #my writing

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what-is-this-car · 2 days ago

Photo

Nope.

So let's find some!

How To Identify Cars

(even if you know nothing about cars)

I should first start by noting that I've already written a guide on telling cars apart, but that's different from identifying them - chiefly because in that context concluding "this is not any car that I know" is a success, since it means you've told it apart from the ones you do know. If you work out what car it is every time that happens, that will eventually lead to enough knowledge and experience to identify cars at a glance. But gradually learning cars as you go through life is rather different than having a specific car (or worse, a shred of it) that you NEED the name of harder than the guy from the memes wants pictures of Spiderman. Hence, this guide.

Properly going over the topic requires me to once again flaunt my studies in perceptual psychology like it isn't the one exam I failed and twice at that recapping what actually happens when you recognize something. That is, your mind analyzes the shape it's looking at, scanning it for traits and features, compares what it notices with items in its database, and identifies a match.

Experience helps with all aspects of that.

It improves analysis, because it trains you to parse the shape and scan it for distinctive traits. Where one may see this...

...I saw this.

It also may mean, with good luck, already being familiar enough with the car in question to recognize it instantly. Or without that luck, as per this case, using the aforementioned details to narrow down the possibilities. For example, the transverse engine indicates a front wheel drive car, and the round, aerodynamic but unfussy styling is clearly from no sooner than the early 90s (not that the custom shaped headlights didn't already give that away) and no later than the late 00s. This narrowed the search quite significantly, and pointed me to potential suspects, like the Ford Falcon's sixth generation (known as AU)...

...though this couldn't be it because the lower edge of the side window is rounded and much lower than that of the windshield. But hey, that's one more detail to note!

So how about the Honda Civic's sixth generation (known as EK)?

Not this either, since the top of the fender follows a gentle upper curve along with the windshield, where in our car the top of the fender's flat, and the door's frame falls beneath the front pillar of the roof (known as the A pillar), where in our car it stretches over to conceal it (trait first introduced in 1980 by the 🇮🇹Giorgetto Giugiaro🇮🇹-designed Isuzu Piazza, btw).

But that's two more details we've noticed!

Then what about the Chevrolet (/Toyota) Cavalier?

See? Now I don't even need to explain why not, because noticing the discrepancies in the cars above taught us details about the car we're looking for and taught us where to look, and thanks to that experience we spot discrepancies here!

This to say, where the experience can't manage it, sheer trial and error fills in the gaps. It's what many people will tell you about failure: try long enough and, if you'll keep learning what worked and what didn't, you'll ultimately end up knowing what you need to. So armed with all the knowledge we've gone over, I went about ruling out a lot of other cars, like the fourth generation Honda Prelude or the Saturn SL1.

But some may not know those cars to begin with. And I must assume they'll be delighted to find out that at one point I just googled "90s sedan" and just checked all images for potential fits one by one. Again, sheer trial and error. Well, not really, since I already knew to look among 90s cars, but again that could come with trial and error if you had a keen enough eye to notice older cars' lines were too flat and newer cars' were too... more.

But even then, the terms were way too wide, and even needing just a lightning's span to assess each picture still presented an insurmountable task. So I used that which is not just my greatest strength, but every single human's, even those delusional enough to believe otherwise:

my brethren.

Yep. Surprisingly enough, even despite my use of light mode the friendly people in the things-about-cars-in-posts Discord server were people willing to help me.

And it was a daunting task, largely due to the heartbreakingly cruel combination of crop and resolution. Lights and front bumper, which as I've gone over previously are the most distinctive elements of a car, are just shy of featured, and the badge on the front is just shy of sharp enough to be parsed. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that with 10 more rows of pixels I would probably have clocked it in 10 seconds. But as it was, thanks to the power of multiple perspectives and knowledge bases, theories flew in every which direction, from the Hyundai Tiburon/Tuscani (nope, exposed A pillars) to the Ford Mondeo (same as above and flatter lines) to the Escort (the Ford, not me. Neither was it.)

We stumbled in the dark for over six hours, until the legend that is friend of things-about-cars-in-posts and member of this blog @brick-enthusiast came in clutch and finally released us from the torment:

And yes, I reacted with my trademark gratitude.

In my defense, my brain kept rightly insisting it was a 90s Chevrolet but stopped just shy of remembering the Lumina.

And now you can appreciate just how mean the crop was. I think a single row of pixels would have clearly shown the wheel well to be that close to the fender crease, which would've been a useful element.

Oh well. We've made it now. It's the second generation Chevrolet Lumina.

And this is a brand new collective blog for car identification whose point is precisely that, instead of replying with behemoths like these as I do in @things-about-cars-in-posts causing me to take months to provide a simple answer, the posts will just be a couple of lines about what model the car is and, if relevant, how one can tell. And you can be part of the people involved (pretty please) by joining the aforementioned Discord and asking about the cult. Er, the cult. Er, what-is-this-car.

So for the sake of ceremony, allow me to state:

This car is a second generation (1995-2001) Chevrolet Lumina.

See: the fender's crease and its flat upper edge, the windshield pillars covered by the edge of the door, the windshield's bottom line lining up with the front window's.

#chevrolet lumina #a very merry Christmas for all those in the Americas for whom it still is lol #i tried my best to publish while it was still Christmas here as well #but. yanno. it's christmas. so you tend to have and want to do other things.#either way TADA!

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aestherin · 2 days ago

Text

KEEP MY HEART

goal 40: good luck

NOTE: another christmas gift hehe 💞 happy holidays everyone <3

PS. i love them (scarayn) your honor :((

You felt a little bad while wishing Kazuha his good lucks when you went with him to the stadium.

Half of the reason was because you felt traitorous wishing him good luck when later, he might find you on the opponent's bleachers. Half of it was because you knew your wishes of luck for you brother were half-hearted — because half of you hoped that your lover could win this time.

You let out a big sigh as you two walked towards his team, which caught Kazuha's attention.

"Why are you sighing like that? You're even more nervous than the one who'd actually play!" He joked, attempting to lighten up your mood.

"I'm not nervous!"

"You are."

"Am not!"

"Are."

You rolled your eyes, having long forgotten the conflict you were feeling just seconds prior. "I told you, I —"

"Captain! There you are!" Venti exclaimed as soon as you and your brother got close enough to them. "Oh, [Name], hi! Long time no see!"

You smiled and waved at them. The team reciprocated your gesture, but you noticed a particular dark green-haired man with golden eyes avoid your gaze.

"Xiao!" You called out. "Good luck!"

He stiffened. At the specific mention of his name, he had no choice but to turn to you. Venti tried to stifle a laugh, but his weird facial expression right now is a proof of his failure.

"You're so cruel," Xiao mumbled. Really, he was finally trying to move on from his suppressed feelings, and now you give him his own 'good luck'?

You are so cruel. And the worst part is that you don't even know.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He managed to flash a small smile. "I said thank you."

"Oh, okay!"

You noticed Venti patting Xiao's back apologetically while still holding back a laugh before you turned away. You started observing your surroundings — Xiao swatting away Venti's hands, your brother occupied by his teammates...

Now was the perfect moment to sneak away.

Making sure you were not seen, you slowly distanced yourself from your own university's varsity team. You put on a white baseball cap, which goes perfectly with your boyfriend's jersey that you've kept perfectly hidden underneath your oversized red jacket.

'Ugh, the lengths I go to!' You complained. 'Why do they belong in different teams?'

If you had known your future boyfriend would be from University of Inazuma's football team, you would have done everything to convince your brother to accept the university's offer after he had passed their entrance examinations.

If he and Kuni were in the same team, would they be friends like your boyfriend is with Heizou and Aether?

Unfortunately, the halls in the stadium were not sufficient to accommodate your musings. Soon enough, you found yourself welcomed by navy blue cheering balloons and bleachers displaying waves of blue with occasional whites — a stark contrast to the abundance of maroon placards and shirts from where you originally came from.

Although being aware that you aren't as popular as your brother, you still feared the possibility of someone recognizing you. You made another effort to lower your cap more as you unzipped your jacket, letting your boyfriend's jersey be visible.

People kept giving you weird glances, perhaps due to your jacket being red despite being in the blue team's wing.

But you couldn't care less.

You wanted to also somehow show support for your brother, even in just small ways.

After faithfully referring to the ticket that Kuni had previously handed you, you soon found the section where you were supposed to be settled in.

A familiar long, braided purple hair demanded your attention right off the bat as you went through the VIP gate. Around her, several men clad in navy blue varsity jackets and a few already in their jerseys were huddled around.

You smiled, admiring how your boyfriend's brows were furrowed. Not in frustration, however. This time, it was in concentration.

As Coach Ei took her time giving her final reminders, you sneakily made your way into your seat, which you noticed was directly right behind a player's seat currently occupied by a very familiar sports bag.

You busied yourself with your phone, first texting your brother and then his friends one final 'good luck'. Your seemingly endless loop of scrolling through your feed then came to a stop as you heard some shuffling.

"Hey."

You looked up, only to see your boyfriend looming over with a grin, one knee kneeling on the seat right in front of you. His right arm resting on the seat's backrest, and the other on his thigh.

"Hey," you breathed.

"My jersey looks the best on you."

"I know," you jokingly replied.

"Don't we all know?" A certain maroon-head butted in. "He's been telling us that nonstop ever since he gave you one of his jerseys!"

"Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you," said the sunshine-haired boy. "I'm Aether, Scara's friend. Also a midfielder."

"Hi!"

Kuni's other friend grabbed your hands and shook them aggressively. "Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you! I'm Heizou, Scara's friend and a defender. Also the one your brother blocked because he thought I was your boyfriend!"

"What?" Kuni turned to look at you. "Your brother thinks that?"

You laughed. "He does."

A scowl was now plastered onto your lover's face. Heizou, also noticing this, shivered. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe, he should now start preparing for the repetitions his captain would make him do once they finish this game. Maybe, he should take what he said back and tell Scara that it was a lie, and that he was just joking.

"Uhm—"

"They're calling for the players now," Ei announced to the team. When her eyes spotted you, she gave a subtle smile and wave before getting back to work.

Heizou let out a sigh of relief as Aether laughed next to him, the two already heading out to the field.

You placed your attention back to your boyfriend who's still in front of you, still maintaining his position from earlier. His earlier grin was already replaced by a frown, though.

You lowered your cap again.

Scaramouche swore his heart dropped when you cupped his face using both of your hands, gently tugging him closer.

"Why is your face like that, hmm?"

"What? Handsome?" He feigned ignorance.

You smiled. "Well, yes. That's true. But you look annoyed."

"It's nothing."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

You took a quick glance towards his teammates. Seeing as most of them have already left for the field, you knew you had to settle this fast.

"Kuni." You called.

"What?"

You replied with nothing.

Nothing aside from closing the distance between the two of you — eyes closed, skin touching, lips intertwined; deep breaths the only thing audible upon parting.

"You—"

You put your index finger against his lips.

"Good luck!" You grinned.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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teaboot · 2 days ago

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Bonjour Teaboot! I'm writing a fic with a Canadian character and wanted to ask you - is learning French mandatory in school? At what age/grade do you start learning? What sort of level of fluency do most students usually reach in school? Do you learn France French or Quebec French? Merci beaucoup!

Taking French as a class is mandatory, yes, (if your school doesnt have other second-laguage options, thanks for the correction, I'd forgotten) but almost nobody becomes fluent in public school unless they do French immersion.

The French is Qébecois French, and like super duper basic ass shit like "are, have, go, do" conjugations and a fee basic phrases, plus some words for table, ceiling, chair, library, hospital, whatever.

In elementary school, I don't think we did much- My english schools taught us how to sing the national anthem in English and French as well as ASL, but I've completely forgotten the ASL and most of the French. Normally we'd sing it in English and then switch to French for the last few lines, idk why.

The average highschool graduate knows, "Hello, my name is", "yes", "no", "where is the library", and a couple random words and swears. (Swears were not part of the curriculum.)

I chose to do French immersion stsrting in grade 6, so what happens THERE is you speak English and throw in whatever French words you know (affectionately referred to as "franglais"), then slowly use more and more French until about grade 7-9 where speaking English is no longer allowed in class. (I got detention a few times for chatting in English.)

One funny thing about early French classes in immersion- we had to ask to use the bathroom in French (esque-je peux aller a la toilette, if i remember correctly) and one time a kid said it wrong (esque-je peur à la toilette) which kind of sort of translates to "Am I afraid of going to the bathroom?" Which was, frankly, hilarious, and not just because he used to throw shit at my head all the time

Popular French words among English students are "pomplemousse" (Pomp-LA-Moose, Grapefruit) "Granouille" (Gran-oo-ee, Frog) "Phoque" (Fock, Seal) and "Arrêt" (A-rett, often intentionally mispronounced as "a rat", Stop)

Common French assignments in Englush schools are talking with a partner about your summer vacation, reading short paragraphs to the class, using smalltalk words in proper contexts, naming pizza toppings, singing songs about conjugation, etc.

Common French assignments in French schools are translating chapters from books written in English, writing short fiction stories, correcting incorrect sentences, reading French books, writing essays, etc.

In BC at least you need to take French or choose another language if it's available at your school? I think my mom took Russian growing up, idk, you just need a second languahe

But I haven't actually been fluent in... God, about 12 years or so now?

I van read enough to passably understand slow speech and simple books, but not enough to articulate myself past very simple concepts and ideas- directions, questions asking for help, etc, and my grammar is.... bad.

Hope this helps?

#Canada

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hanniewho · 12 hours ago

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⋆˚࿔ Mommies' Good Girl 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: A heated argument turning into rough sex when you accidentally called them mommy. Apparently, that made the situation even worst.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: Actually, I was writing a tlou x Arcane series, but I have no idea what to write since I got ban on character ai for ideas so.. this is what I wrote instead. Also I'm working on my slasher jayce x cam girl reader and I wanna make it noncon but mid writing it I felt sick so I switch it to jayce wearing the ghostface attire while fucking you on stream yeyey:3

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 5.8k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Rough sex, Slapping, Pussy worshiping, Fingering, Cunninlingus, Choking, Degrading - Praising, Name calling, Dirty talk, Using dildo, Ass fucking, Multiple orgasm, Threesome, Mommy kink, Delaying orgasm.

⋆✦ Pairings: Vi and Caitlyn x Afab virgin reader

"You never listen to me!" Caitlyn's voice echoed through the room, her frustration palpable.

Vi's eyes flashed with anger. "What do you mean I never listen?" she shot back, her fists clenching at her sides.

Caitlyn's chest heaved as she tried to gather her thoughts. "It's like you're always in your own world, Vi. You don't care about what I have to say!"

Vi took a step closer, her own frustration rising. "That's not true," she said, her voice low and tight. "I care about you, but you're always pushing and pushing until I can't even breathe!"

You watched the exchange, feeling the tension thicken in the air. You knew they'd had their disagreements before, but this felt different—like the pressure in the room was building to a breaking point. You didn't want to interrupt, scared that you'll be the center of their anger.

Instead, you took a step back, hoping to give them space to cool down. But as you retreated, Caitlyn's gaze flickered to you, desperation and something else swirling in her eyes. Before you could react, she stalked towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.

"Is this what you want?" she growled, her breath hot on your neck. "For me to just take it?"

Vi's eyes narrowed, and you could see the fire in them, a challenge sparked. Without breaking eye contact with you, she stepped closer, until you were trapped between the two of them, their bodies mere inches apart.

"Is that what you want?" Vi murmured, her voice a mix of anger and desire. "For us to fight over you?"

You shake your head, feeling the heat of both their bodies against yours. "No," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That's not it at all."

But your words seem to have the opposite effect as Caitlyn's grip tightens, her nails digging into your skin. Her eyes are stormy, and you can see the challenge in them, a silent dare to prove your worth. Vi mirrors her, leaning in so close that you can feel the warmth of her breath. The scent of their combined desire is intoxicating, mixing with the faint aroma of sweat and the metallic tang of unbridled emotion.

Vi's hand reaches out, grabbing the back of your neck, her touch firm but not painful. "Then tell us what you want," she says, her voice a soft growl that sends a shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I just... I just want us to be okay," you manage to get out, feeling your heart racing.

Caitlyn's expression softens a fraction, but the hunger in her eyes doesn't waver. She leans in, her full, soft lips brushing against your ear. "Is that all?" she whispers, her breath sending a shiver down your spine.

Vi's hand moves down to your hip, her fingers digging in, claiming you. "You know we can give you more than just okay," she says, her voice a seductive purr that sends a rush of heat between your legs.

You gulp, feeling the weight of their combined gazes, the intensity of their emotions. You know what they're suggesting, and part of you wants it, craves the distraction, the release. You nod, and in that moment, the room seems to shift, the tension morphing into something else entirely.

Caitlyn's eyes light up with a feral hunger as she moves in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, her teeth nipping at yours. You gasp into her mouth, the taste of her anger mixing with the sweetness of her desire. Vi's hand slides from your hip to the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head, her eyes never leaving yours.

You're pinned between them now, your body responding to their touch despite the argument's aftermath still hanging in the air. Caitlyn's hand moves to the back of your neck, mimicking Vi's hold, as they both guide you towards the bedroom. The softness of the carpet under your bare feet is a stark contrast to the harshness of their grips.

The door clicks shut behind you, and the room seems to shrink as their passion envelops you. Clothes are ripped and discarded in a frenzy of movement, each piece removed with the force of their pent-up emotions. The sound of fabric tearing is almost as satisfying as the feeling of their skin against yours.

Caitlyn's teeth graze your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. Her kisses are demanding, a silent apology for her earlier anger. Vi's hands are everywhere, exploring your body with a fierce possessiveness that sends waves of desire crashing through you. You're sandwiched between them, the mattress beneath you giving way as you're pushed down onto it.

Vi's mouth finds your nipple, sucking hard, the sensation making you arch your back. Caitlyn's teeth nip at your shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly. You're surrounded by them, their scents mingling, their breaths hot on your skin. It's overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Their touches are rough, almost violent, but you find yourself responding to it. Maybe it's the residual anger in the air, or the way they seem to crave each other through you, but your body is alight with need. "Oh... fuck me.." You moan, unable to hold it back, as Caitlyn's mouth moves to your other breast, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

Vi's hand slides down your stomach, her fingers dancing closer and closer to the dampness between your legs. She groans into your neck as she feels how wet you are, the sound vibrating through your body. "You like this, don't you?" she murmurs, her voice filled with a dark satisfaction.

You nod, unable to form coherent words as Caitlyn's teeth move to your earlobe, tugging gently. "Say it," she demands, her voice a rough whisper. "Tell us how much you want us."

You gasp, "I...I want you both so much," your voice trembling with desire.

Their grips on you tighten, their kisses becoming more insistent. Vi's hand reaches your center, her fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with a firmness that makes you whine. Caitlyn's mouth moves to your other ear, her tongue tracing the shell before whispering, "Beg for it, baby."

You do, your voice desperate. "Please, fuck me," you moan, the words tumbling from your lips. You can feel their smirks against your skin, the satisfaction of knowing you're at their mercy.

Vi's fingers plunge into you without warning, her thumb circling your clit with a roughness that sends sparks through your body. You cry out, your legs instinctively spreading wider to give her better access. Caitlyn's mouth moves to your neck, her teeth scraping along the tender skin as she kisses and sucks.

Their touches are a symphony of pain and pleasure, each stroke and bite a declaration of their need for one another. You're lost in the sensations, the argument from moments ago forgotten as you become the focus of their passion.

Vi's fingers move with a purpose inside you, her thumb relentlessly working your clit. Caitlyn's teeth graze your neck, her kisses turning into bites that leave a trail of heat along your skin. "Look at you," Vi coos, her voice a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "Moaning like a bitch in heat."

You whimper, the insult only fueling your arousal as you feel yourself getting wetter. You know they're just playing, pushing each other's buttons through you, but the words still make you squirm. Caitlyn's grip on your hip tightens, her other hand moving to cup your cheek, turning your face to look at her.

"You love it, don't you?" she says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You love when we're like this."

You do love it, the way they use your body to work out their issues, turning anger into something primal and sexual. You moan louder as Vi's fingers plunge deeper, the roughness of her touch pushing you closer to the edge.

Vi laughs, a dark, smoky sound that fills the room as she keeps tossing degrading words at you, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of it. "Such a good little slut, aren't you?" she says, her voice a wicked purr that makes your cheeks flush with a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Caitlyn's eyes darken, a smirk playing on her lips as she watches Vi work you into a frenzy. She leans in, her teeth grazing your neck. "Is that all you want?" she asks, her voice a soft challenge. "To be used and degraded?"

You can't help but nod, your body betraying your thoughts. The harsh words only make you wetter, the idea of being their toy, their shared prize, turning you on in a way you never knew was possible. Vi's laugh is like a whip crack, sharp and stinging, as she keeps tossing degrading words at you, each one hitting its mark.

"Yeah, you do," she says, her eyes gleaming with a dark delight. "You're a greedy little whore, aren't you?" Her fingers are a blur between your legs, and you can feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of sensation that threatens to consume you whole.

You whimper, nodding, the words cutting through you like a hot knife through butter. The harshness of her language is a stark contrast to the gentle way Caitlyn holds your face, but it's the perfect balance of power and submission. You can feel their tension dissolving into something else, something raw and primal, as they use your body to find their own release.

Vi's fingers work you over mercilessly, her laugh turning into a series of low, guttural sounds that resonate through your core. Each insult is a stroke of genius, designed to push you closer to the edge. "You're just a cum dumpster," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. "A fucking hole for us to fill."

Caitlyn's hand moves from your cheek to your throat, her grip firm but not tight enough to cut off your air. She watches you closely, the smirk on her face growing as your eyes glaze over. "Is that what you are?" she asks, her voice a seductive whisper. "Our little cum slut?"

You nod, your breath coming in ragged pants, the words only serving to inflame your desire. You've never felt so wanted, so desired, so... alive.

Vi's thumb presses down on your clit, and you can't help but buck your hips, the pleasure too intense to hold back. "Fuck!" you scream, your body trembling.

Caitlyn's hand tightens on your neck, a silent command to keep looking at her as Vi continues to manipulate your body. "That's it," she whispers, her eyes dark with need. "Take it."

Vi's fingers work you over, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension in the room crackling, the air charged with the electricity of their desire and the intensity of your own climax. Your hips jerk against Vi's hand, your body begging for more, and she's all too happy to give it.

Then, in the heat of the moment, a slip of the tongue. "Fuck me, Mommy," you moan, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. Vi's hand stills, a look of shock passing over her face before it's quickly replaced with a wicked grin. "Mommy, huh?" she says, her voice dripping with amusement. "I think you might need a little more punishment for that."

Caitlyn's eyes widen, and she laughs, the sound low and dark. "Well, well," she says, her voice husky. "Looks like someone's got a naughty side." Her grip on your throat loosens, and she leans in closer, her breath hot against your cheek. "Is that what you really want, baby?"

You blush, your body trembling with need. You didn't mean to say that, but now that the words are out, you can't deny the thrill that runs through you. "I-I don't know," you stutter, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat.

Vi's grin widens, her eyes glinting with mischief. She leans back, giving you a moment to breathe as she pulls her hand away. "Well, if that's what you want," she says, her voice a purr that sends shivers down your spine.

Caitlyn releases your neck, her thumb tracing the delicate skin as she looks at Vi, a silent question in her eyes. Vi nods, a wicked glint in her gaze. "We can definitely give you that," she says, her voice a promise that sends a thrill of excitement and a shiver of fear through your body.

They exchange a look that feels like it's searing you with its intensity. You're not sure what you've unleashed, but you know you want it. You want them to claim you, to take you apart and put you back together again in a way that only they can.

Caitlyn moves away, and for a brief moment, you feel cold without her touch. But Vi's hand is quick to replace it, her fingers sliding down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She straddles your hips, her eyes never leaving yours as she reaches for the nightstand.

"What are you doing?" you ask, breathless, your heart racing.

Vi's smile widens, and she holds up the dildo, a glossy black toy with a slight curve that you've never seen before. "It's time to introduce you to some new sensations," she says, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I've had this little toy for a while, but it seems we never got around to using it."

You watch as she coats the dildo with lubricant, the sight of it making you squirm with anticipation. Caitlyn moves back to the bed and settle in behind you, her eyes never leaving yours as Vi lines the toy up with your entrance. The coolness of the silicone against your sensitive flesh makes you gasp, but it's quickly replaced by a burning need as Vi presses it into you, inch by inch.

You try to squirm away, the sensation new and overwhelming, but their combined strength keeps you in place. "Easy," Caitlyn murmurs, her hand sliding up your chest to cup your breast. "You can take it."

Vi's grip on your hips tightens as she begins to move the dildo in and out of you, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your feet kick the air, legs straining, as you try to find purchase, to either push away or pull closer, you're not even sure anymore. "No, please, I can't," you whine, the words a mix of protest and plea.

Their eyes meet over your body, and you can see the thrill in them, the excitement of watching you squirm and beg. Caitlyn's hand moves from your breast to your cheek, turning your face back to hers. "You can, baby," she says, her voice soothing despite the fiery need in her gaze. "You can take everything we give you."

Vi's strokes with the dildo become more deliberate, the angle changing to hit that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head. You moan, the word "Mommy" slipping out again, and this time it's Caitlyn's eyes that darken with lust. "Keep saying it," she whispers, her hand moving to your mouth to muffle your cries.

Your body feels like it's on fire, their touches and words lighting you up from the inside out. You're lost in the sensation, the sound of your own moans echoing in your ears as Vi works you over. You feel a hand slide up your thigh, and Caitlyn's fingers find your clit, adding to the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

You throw your head back into Caitlyn's shoulder, gasping for air. "I can't," you whine, the words barely coherent. "It's too much."

But Caitlyn isn't listening. She brings her hand to your lip, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air. She forces your mouth open and slides two of her fingers in, coated with your wetness. "Taste yourself," she whispers, her voice a siren's call that you can't resist.

You moan around the intrusion, the taste of your own desire almost as intoxicating as their combined scent. You suck on her fingers, the salty-sweet flavor making your toes curl. Vi watches, her eyes hooded with lust as she continues to pump the dildo into you, the rhythm relentless.

"Good girl," Caitlyn murmurs, her voice a warm caress against your ear. "Tell us how much you like it." Her hand moves from your mouth to your throat, her thumb tracing gentle circles as she squeezes slightly, reminding you who's in control.

You can't help but moan around her fingers, the pressure sending a thrill through your body. "M-Mommy," you pant, the word slipping out again, and you feel Vi's grip on your hips tighten in response.

"Look how much she loves it," Caitlyn says, her voice a low purr that vibrates through your body. "Such a good little slut for us."

Vi's strokes become faster, the dildo filling you up as she watches your reactions with a predatory gaze. You're powerless against the onslaught of sensation, your body a canvas for their pleasure. You arch your back, pushing down on the toy, silently begging for more.

Then, without warning, Vi pulls the dildo out, leaving you empty and gasping for air. You clench around nothing, your body desperately seeking the fullness it craves. "What the fuck?" you manage to get out, your voice a mix of frustration and need.

Vi just grins at you, a wicked glint in her eye. "What?" she says, her voice a taunt. "You think a dirty little wench like you gets to cum that easily?"

Caitlyn chuckles, her hand sliding down to replace the dildo with two of her own fingers, pushing inside you without warning. "We're just getting started," she says, her voice a low growl that makes you quiver with anticipation.

Vi leans over you, her hand coming down to slap your pussy, the sound echoing through the room. You yelp, the sting mixing with the pleasure of Caitlyn's fingers, making your eyes water. "What a whore," Vi says, her voice filled with amusement and a hint of admiration. "Begging for it like that."

The slap sends a jolt through your body, and you can't help but moan. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but the pain feels good, like it's grounding you in the moment. Vi's eyes are alight with something dark, a hunger that you've never seen before. She brings her hand back up, her fingers lingering on the spot she slapped, feeling the heat of your skin.

"Since your pussy is so tight," she says, her voice a low growl, "I wonder what else is."

With those words, Vi pulls the dildo from your pussy and presses the tip against your tight asshole. You tense up, the sensation foreign and overwhelming. But Caitlyn's hand is there, her thumb stroking your clit in a way that makes you want to scream. The conflict of pain and pleasure is almost too much to handle.

"Relax," she whispers, her voice a gentle command. You try, your body responding to her touch despite your trepidation. You feel the dildo breach you, the pressure intense as Vi works it in slowly. The burn is uncomfortable, but the way Caitlyn's eyes never leave yours, the way she watches your every reaction, makes it almost bearable.

"That's it," Caitlyn murmurs, her voice soothing despite the grip she has on your throat. "Take it for us." Her thumb moves in lazy circles on your clit, the pleasure a stark contrast to the pain as Vi's dildo stretches you open. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cry that threatens to escape, but it's no use.

The sound of your own whimpers fills the room, a symphony of lust and need that only spurs them on. Vi's strokes become more deliberate, her hand moving the dildo in and out of your ass with a precision that speaks of experience. You can feel yourself stretching around it, your body desperately trying to adjust.

Caitlyn's thumb speeds up, the pleasure becoming a crescendo that's almost too much to handle. "You're doing so good," she whispers, her voice filled with a mix of admiration and hunger. "Such a good little slut for us."

You cry out, the word "please" leaving your lips in a desperate plea. "Let me adjust," you manage to get out between gasps. "I-I can't... Mommy, please."

Vi's eyes flash with something dark and hungry, a smirk playing on her lips. "You're so adorable when you beg," she says, her voice a purr that sends a shiver down your spine. She gives the dildo a gentle twist, the feeling making you jolt. "But we're not done yet."

Caitlyn's thumb moves in tandem with Vi's strokes, the pressure on your clit increasing as your body fights the intrusion in your ass. You can feel yourself stretching around the toy, the pain morphing into something more, something that makes your toes curl. "Mommy," you whine, the word a desperate plea for relief.

Caitlyn's grip on your neck tightens, her eyes never leaving yours. "What do you need, baby?" she asks, her voice a seductive purr that sends shivers down your spine.

You gasp, trying to form words through the haze of pleasure and pain. "More," you finally manage, your voice a breathless whisper. "Please, more."

Vi's smirk widens, and she obliges, slamming the dildo into your ass without warning. The suddenness of it makes you scream, the sound raw and primal. The shock sends you spiraling closer to the edge, your body no longer fighting the intrusion but craving it. You feel your muscles clench around the toy, trying to draw it in deeper.

Caitlyn's smile is pure wickedness as she kisses your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. She starts to move her fingers in time with Vi's strokes, the feeling of being filled from both sides driving you wild. You've never felt so full, so claimed, so... owned. The pleasure is so intense, it's almost unbearable.

Her touch is gentle but firm, her kisses a silent promise of the storm that's about to break. You can feel the muscles in your pussy clench around her fingers, desperate for more. Caitlyn's eyes never leave yours, her gaze holding you captive as she explores the depths of your desire. You're panting now, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

With every stroke, Caitlyn's smile grows, feeding off your whimpers of need. Her kisses move from your neck to your collarbone, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes your eyes roll back. She's in no hurry, savoring the moment, drawing it out like a fine wine. Each kiss feels like a brand, a declaration of ownership that makes your toes curl.

Then, the saliva that's been pooling in your mouth overflows, and you can't help but drool. The warm wetness rolls down your chin and onto your chest, making its way down to your tits. The sight of it, the sheer abandon of the act, sends a jolt of electricity through Vi. She watches, transfixed, as it glistens on your nipples, making them even more tantalizing.

Her hand moves faster, the dildo pumping into your ass with a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. The pain is now a distant memory, replaced by a white-hot need that threatens to consume you. You can feel yourself getting closer, the tension in your body winding tighter with every stroke.

Caitlyn's thumb presses down harder on your clit, and you know you're about to break. "Please," you beg, the word a desperate gasp that's almost inaudible. "I need to cum."

Vi's strokes become more erratic, her breaths coming in short pants as she watches you squirm. "Do it," she says, her voice a harsh command that sends a thrill through your body. "Cum for us, slut."

Caitlyn's thumb presses harder, the pressure just shy of painful as she brings you closer to the edge. Your body feels like it's about to snap, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. "Now," she whispers, and you do, your orgasm ripping through you like a tornado, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

You scream, the sound echoing off the walls, as your body convulses in pleasure. Vi's dildo is still moving inside you, the sensation almost too much to handle as your pussy contracts around Caitlyn's fingers. You're so sensitive that even the slightest touch feels like a bolt of lightning.

Vi's eyes never leave yours, watching the pleasure play out on your face with a look of triumph. Caitlyn's kisses become more gentle now, her touch soothing as she rides out your orgasm with you. You feel their love and desire in every stroke, every kiss, every whispered word of praise.

And then, as the last waves of your climax subside, Vi pulls the dildo out of you with a wet pop, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. You're panting, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure as she leans down, her mouth hovering just above your swollen pussy. Her breath is hot against your sensitive flesh, making you squirm.

Vi's eyes are filled with a hunger that's almost feral as she looks up at you, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Tastes like victory," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire.

With a slow, deliberate move, Vi leans down and presses her lips to your sensitive pussy, kissing you as if you're the most delicious thing she's ever tasted. You gasp at the sudden tenderness, the stark contrast to the roughness of moments before making your toes curl. Her tongue flicks out, tasting you, and you can't help but push against her, desperate for more.

Caitlyn watches with a hungry gaze, her own desire evident in the way she licks her lips. She slides her fingers out of you, bringing them up to her mouth to suck on them, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mm," she murmurs, "you taste so good."

Vi's mouth is a symphony of pleasure, her tongue working you over with a finesse that's surprising given the roughness of the encounter. You moan, your hands reaching down to tangle in her hair, urging her closer. She takes the hint, her tongue delving into your folds, lapping up the juices that are still flowing from your body.

Caitlyn's eyes never leave yours, the smirk on her face one of pure satisfaction. She watches as Vi worships your pussy, the sight of it making her own desire burn even brighter. Her hand moves down to her own clit, her thumb circling it as she watches you lose yourself in the pleasure.

"I fucking love girls with pretty pussies like you," Vi mumbles, her words muffled by the sounds of her mouth against your skin. "So tight... warm and soft. Just... fucking perfect." Her tongue slides over your clit, the flat of it pressing down firmly, making you gasp. "Like you're begging me to destroy you."

Her words are a jumble of pleasure and praise, each one sending a new wave of heat through your body. You can feel the vibrations of her voice against your sensitive flesh, and it only makes your orgasm feel more intense. She's a maelstrom of passion, her mouth a whirlwind of sensation that you can't escape from.

Caitlyn's eyes are hooded with lust as she watches Vi work her magic on you. Her own hand moves faster, her thumb rubbing in tight circles on her own clit, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The sight of you, lost in pleasure, is almost too much for her to handle.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, your body trembling with the force of it. You've never felt so alive, so wanted, so... used. And it's glorious. Each lick of Vi's tongue feels like a declaration of war, a promise of more pleasure to come.

Caitlyn's hand moves from your neck to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple in time with Vi's strokes. The pain is a sweet counterpoint to the pleasure, making you arch your back and push your chest out for more. "Good girl," she murmurs, her voice filled with pride. "Look how beautiful you are when you're being used."

Vi's mouth moves lower, her tongue sliding into your pussy, filling you up in a way that feels like it's going to break you apart. You're so sensitive that it's almost too much, but you can't bring yourself to ask her to stop. You need this, the feeling of being taken, of being theirs.

Caitlyn's hand moves to your ass, her fingers digging in as she pulls you closer to Vi's mouth. "Come for us," she whispers, her voice a dark promise in the chaos of pleasure. "Let us see how much of a mess you can make for us."

You whine, the sound a desperate mix of pleasure and pain. You don't know if you can handle anymore, but your body seems to have other ideas. With a final, vicious tug of her tongue, Vi sends you over the edge again, your pussy clenching around her mouth as you cum hard.

Vi pulls away, her mouth shiny with your juices, and grins up at you. "Looks like someone enjoyed that," she says, her voice smug and satisfied.

You can only nod, unable to form coherent words as your body still quivers with aftershocks. Your eyes are glazed over, your chest heaving with the effort of breathing. You're a mess, sprawled out on the bed, but the look in their eyes tells you that they think you're perfect.

Vi sits back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of your arousal glistening on her skin. "Look at you," she says, her voice filled with pride. "Such a good little whore for us."

Caitlyn's grip tightens around your waist as you go limp against her, your body spent and boneless. Her eyes are warm with affection as she looks down at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "You're incredible," she whispers, kissing your neck.

You can't help but melt into her, the tenderness of her words a stark contrast to the roughness of the encounter. Her hands are gentle as they glide over your skin, her touch a comforting balm to the storm that's just passed through you. You lean into her, your breathing still ragged, your heart hammering in your chest.

Vi's smile is one of pure satisfaction as she sits back, watching the two of you with a glint in her eye. She reaches out, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw as she brings her hand up to cup your cheek. "You're ours," she says, her voice a low, sultry purr that sends a fresh wave of heat through your body.

You look up at her, your eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, and nod. The words hang in the air, a declaration that makes your heart race. You've never felt so claimed, so completely owned by someone else's desire. It's a heady feeling, one that you never want to lose.

But even as the afterglow of your orgasm lingers, you can feel the beginnings of exhaustion. Your muscles ache, your skin is sticky with sweat, and every breath feels like it's made of molasses. "I'm... I'm tired," you admit, your voice a soft whisper that seems to echo through the room.

Caitlyn's smile doesn't waver, but her eyes soften. She brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her touch gentle. "Let us take care of you," she says, her voice a warm caress.

Vi nods, her own expression filled with something that might be tenderness. She climbs off the bed, her movements surprisingly graceful for someone so powerful. She walks over to the nightstand and grabs a bottle of water, twisting the cap off with a practiced ease. She brings it to your lips, the cool liquid slipping down your throat, soothing the fire that's been raging within you.

You take a deep, shuddering breath as the water hits your stomach, the coldness of it a stark contrast to the heat that's still pooling between your legs. Caitlyn's hand is still on your waist, her thumb stroking lazy circles that make you want to squirm. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice hoarse from screaming.

With a gentle nudge from Caitlyn, you lean back into her shoulder, closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh. The feel of her skin against yours is a balm to your overstimulated senses, the scent of her a comforting blanket that wraps around you. Her hand slides up your stomach, her fingers tracing the line of your ribs before settling on your chest. You can feel her heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that grounds you.

Vi sets the water bottle aside and moves closer, her eyes never leaving yours. She runs a hand through your hair, her touch featherlight. "You're so beautiful when you're like this," she murmurs, her voice filled with something that sounds suspiciously like affection.

You manage a tired smile, the muscles in your face feeling like they've been put through a workout. "Thanks," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm... I'm just really tired."

Caitlyn nods, her grip on you tightening for a brief moment before she eases you onto your side, tucking you against her. She runs her hand down your back, her touch soothing and gentle, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had consumed you minutes before. "Rest, baby," she whispers. "We've got you."

Vi settles in beside you, her strong arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to her firm body. You can feel the heat of her skin, the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear, and it's comforting in a way you didn't know you needed. She kisses your shoulder, her breath warm and soft against your skin. "You did so good," she murmurs, her voice filled with something that feels suspiciously like pride.

You lean into her embrace, the warmth of her body enveloping you like a blanket, chasing away the chill that's started to settle in. You can't help but let out a contented sigh, your eyes drifting shut. Caitlyn's hand slides down your side, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Rest," she whispers, her breath warm against the nape of your neck. "You've earned it."

Vi's grip shifts slightly, her hand moving to rest on your hip. You can feel the callouses on her palm, a stark reminder of the power she wields. Yet here she is, her touch tender and loving, cradling you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. It's a side of her you rarely get to see, and it makes your heart swell with love.

You snuggle closer to Caitlyn, her breasts pressing into your back, the softness of them a stark contrast to the firmness of Vi's body against your front. It's like being sandwiched between two opposites, two sides of a coin that somehow fit perfectly together. You've never felt so cherished, so... claimed. The thought sends a warm thrill through your body, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh.

Maybe being their good girl wasn't so bad at all.

#vi arcane #vi x you #vi x reader #vi smut #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #caitlyn smut #arcane smut #arcane x reader #ᯓᡣ𐭩han

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thekaratcake-blog · 10 hours ago

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Also if we're going to play this game

1. These people all did what they did in the name of power, not atheism, not because of "atheistic ideology" because of power-hungry ideology which is actually encouraged in the bible, yknow, take the Holy lands, spread the word by the sword?

2. The nazis, just about universally considered the most evil people ever, were not only a Christian group but were put in power by Christian people, allied first with the Catholic Church, wore "god with us" on their belts, and I wonder why their most famously targeted group was a religious group that catholics are particularly known for hating? They fought in the name of religion, the crusades are supported by the bible, and as an African American you should know that slavery was upheld with the bible, which explicitly endorses slavery, exodus 21, Paul and a few places in leviticus

Oh and just to add on to that, even if you blamed it on just corrupt popes, that slaughter and rape and murder of the crusades (crusades being entirely justifiable biblically btw), the people doing that, what were they doing that in the name of? Why did they think that was okay? What was making them unafraid of death and consequences as they sexually abused children? (Something the bible also doesn't condemn and may even have encouraged during the slaughter of the caananites)

Why, pray tell, did they do that?

Also obviously, Hitler wasn't an atheist just a weird brand of Christian that was arguably not really Christian? Very different from his movement tho and he was Christian most of his life, I can't be bothered checking the rest but regardless, they used religious tactics to place themselves as gods to their people anyway

But yeah like the Catholic Church literally celebrated Hitler's birthday for a while

FInal edit and addition, athiestic ideaology doesn't exist, athiesm is literally just "I don't believe in a literal god" that is it, nothing else, no extra baggage, that is it, you're litereally just saying "ideaologies that don't happen to be my own"

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vi-steponmeplease · 2 days ago

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BODY DYSMORPHIA

REQUEST: billie being rrly worried about r eating problems?

a/n: before we get into the fic, i just want to remind everyone that your struggles are valid. i understand where you're coming from and i promise you, you're perfect just as you are, inside and out. you don't need to be slim to be beautiful. that's just society's and men's messed up standards. this is just one of many serious & important topics and i want you to know that my messages are always open if you need to vent, talk, or simply have someone listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairings - concernedgf!billie x insecure!reader

genre - angst, fluff, suggestive

synopsis: struggling with body image and online criticism, you find comfort as billie lovingly supports you and helps you confront your insecurities with understanding and care.

tw: heavy mentions of body dysmorphia & an eating disorder.

word count: 1.1K

you don't have to change you're perfect the way you are

⟡

she's a pretty girl without the filter she looks beautiful with no makeup on

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"How about In-N-Out?"

Wide grins spread across everyone's faces as they nod in agreement, then turn to you, waiting for your response. Your gaze shifts to Finneas in the driver’s seat, then to Claudia in the passenger seat, before skimming over Alex and Zoe on your right, and finally landing on Billie—your girlfriend—seated to your left.

"Oh, uh, I'll actually just skip. I already ate, so I'm full," you say with a casual shrug.

"You sure you don't want something for later?" Billie asks, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she lightly squeezes your knee. "I know you. You always say you're not hungry, then an hour later, you're begging me to get you something to eat."

You force a smile, shaking your head. "I'm sure."

During the drive to the fast-food joint, you pull out your phone, your lips pressing into a tight frown as you scroll through the comments left by Billie’s fans on her most recent post—some cruel and cutting, others trying to defend you.

quenxbillie4life: what an ugly fatass bitch prob js a gold digger ↳ ronniel0vesbils: do u even KNOW billie? she's struggled sm with body image. have u heard not my responsibility? u have no right to say that abt her gf.

billieeilishnoticeme69: BIG BACK BIG BACK BIG BACK

billybiggestfan: elephants don't deserve to date global stars like billy ↳ ronniel0vesbils: lmao didn't even spell her name right u fake fan😭

billiespitonme: @ronniel0vesbils is legit fighting for her life out here LMFAO

The harsh words sting, and though the supportive replies are there, they feel drowned out by the negativity. You glance out the car window, trying to shake the ache in your chest, but the comments linger like a shadow.

You try to conceal your exhaustion, but it’s hard to ignore the countless nights spent sobbing, curled up with your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you desperately pray to wake up with a model’s body the next day.

But it never happens. And each passing day only deepens the growing hatred you feel toward yourself.

Why would Billie ever choose someone like you?

She’s one of the most ethereal-looking women on the planet, effortlessly breathtaking in a way that leaves you in awe. She never seems to have a bad moment, always stunning. Yet somehow, out of everyone, she chose you.

You sit silently, watching everyone enjoy their burgers and sip on their drinks, all the while wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Deep down, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not even worthy of a good meal—that starving yourself is just the price you have to pay to lose weight.

Your eyes drop to your hands resting in your lap, fingers fidgeting with your nails as a quiet sigh escapes. Slumping further into the seat, you tune out the lively conversations and laughter of your friends, letting the background noise blur into nothingness.

"You okay, baby?"

The gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You hear the jingle of keys being tossed onto the coffee table, followed by soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. Billie appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with concern etched across her face. "You were acting a little weird today."

You glance away, offering only a small nod in response, but Billie isn’t convinced. She crosses the room and sits beside you, the mattress dipping under her weight as she exhales softly. Her ring-clad hand comes to rest lightly on your knee.

"You sure?" she presses, her voice tender. "You usually never say no to burgers."

A bitter chuckle slips out before you can stop it, the comment twisting into an unintentional jab at yourself. Are you really such a glutton that even Billie notices the sudden change? The thought stings.

"Yeah," you mutter, your tone tinged with self-deprecation. "That just might be the issue." You roll your eyes at your typical eating habits, the words dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

Billie’s brows knit together, a faint crease forming on her forehead as she shifts closer, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Ah,” she murmurs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get it, love. I know how you feel—I’ve been through it.”

Her hand moves up to your arm, fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns across your skin. “I want you to know I’m here for you. Always. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.” Her voice is soft but firm, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“Anything you ever want to tell me, I’m listening. And,” she adds, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “you can’t be stressing your pretty little head about all this without me being involved, got it?”

Your lips curl into a soft smile, but the harsh, critical thoughts about your appearance still linger, refusing to be silenced.

Billie notices the unease in your expression. Her hand gives your arm a gentle squeeze before she guides you down onto the bed, your back pressing against the sheets and your head cradled by a pillow.

For a moment, your mind races. Really? Sex? Does she think a distraction like this will actually help right now?

Still, you push the thought aside, watching as Billie moves with quiet determination. Her fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs and tossing them onto the floor. She shifts her focus to your torso, carefully slipping your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Instinctively, your hands fly to your stomach, trying to cover yourself. Even though Billie has seen you naked countless times, the habit of hiding feels ingrained—an automatic response to the insecurities clawing at you.

Billie is quick to pin your hands gently to your sides, her soft yet firm grip keeping them in place. Her lips brush against your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth as she moves down to your neck, collarbone, and then licks a slow, deliberate stripe down the valley of your breasts.

"Pretty fucking girl," she murmurs, her voice low and filled with adoration. A quiet groan escapes her lips as she shifts lower, her hands gliding across your skin, mapping every inch and curve with reverent care.

"I love you," she says, her words muffled as she presses her lips tenderly against your belly button. "So fucking much, angel. You’re perfect."

Her hands drift to your thighs, squeezing them gently before she peppers a trail of featherlight kisses along their length. “I love every curve, every inch of this gorgeous body,” she whispers, her tone steady and unwavering, as if daring your insecurities to challenge her conviction.

"And that's never, ever going to change."

#Spotify #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish angst #billie eilish x fem reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish fic #billie x reader #lesbian #billie eilish fanfiction #hit me hard and soft #billie eilish x reader

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softestqueeen · 2 days ago

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jingle bells

pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader

summary: you surprise your boyfriend, spencer reid, with something very special for christmas.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, no foreplay, kissing, pet names (angel, baby), unprotected sex (guys, don't do that unless it's with spencer reid)

wordcount: 1273 words

a/n: so this is inspired by a real pair of victorias secret panties that I saw on tiktok a while ago. i wanted to find a picture or something but couldn't for some reason and now i think it might all have been a figment of my imagination. but who cares, you're here for the smut, i know. i hope you like this christmas fic, even though it is a lil late. enjoy <3

Your boyfriend, Spencer, loved Christmas. Every year he went all out on decorations, listening to Christmas music the second it turned November and reading Christmas stories. Even if Halloween definitely was his favourite holiday, Christmas is a close second.

So, this year you wanted to surprise him with something special. This December was laced with back-to-back cases and even though you two shared a flat, you didn’t see each other a lot. But Christmas rarely came with any cases, so you knew that you would be unbothered, which was perfect for your plan.

You didn’t just surprise him with anything, no, you wanted to surprise him with you. And even though all his other presents were already wrapped and under the tree there was one present (you) that he got to open early. A few weeks ago, when you were shopping for Spencer’s other gifts, you walked by a Victoria’s Secret and in the display, you saw something you knew your boyfriend would love.

A pair of sheer lace panties, adorned at the sides with little bells that made a cute little sound when moved and a matching sheer babydoll top. You knew you had to get this as a little surprise to sweeten up the time leading up to the holiday. And even though, due to Spencer’s tight schedule, you had to move it to actual Christmas, you had to move it onto the actual holiday, you knew he would love it.

So, after Spencer came home on the 23rd of December, you knew what you had to do.

As always, you greeted the profiler with a kiss at the door, helping him out of his coat and asking him about the case. He never gave you too many details, but you still liked hearing about what he was up to. Then you told him to get himself comfortable in the bedroom, as it was already a little later, and disappeared into the bathroom. You already prepared everything and now just had to get changed.

Trying your best not to be too loud with the jingling panties, you put the matching set on and covered it with a robe. You fixed your hair, even though you knew Spencer wouldn’t care much about it once he saw your outfit.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, immediately pulling Spencer’s attention away from the books he was reading. He slowly dropped it into his lap, his jaw almost going the same path, when you opened your robe, revealing the lingerie underneath. You slowly let the robe fall off before moving your hips a bit, making the bells jingle.

That seemed to snap your boyfriend out of his stunned silence. He hastily put the book on the nightstand before clearing his throat. “Wow,” was the only thing he got out for a second, “you, uhm- you look amazing, angel.”

“Thank you, Spence,” now walking closer to the bed you could see the blush painting his cheeks. Every movement made the bells clatter, his eyes now moving to your hips. Once you were standing next to him on the bed, he took a hold of them and pulled you onto his hips, your lips finally meeting.

Spencer usually liked to take things slow, but you could feel the urgency in this kiss, all the frustration from not seeing each other now finally releasing. You started to slowly grind against him, already feeling his erection against your pussy.

His hands wander from your hips under your top and onto your soft breasts. When you let out a surprised moan he slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

It doesn’t take long for him to get impatient and take off your top, leaving you only in your panties. Before you could get up to take them off though, Spencer stopped you. “Please keep them on, angel. Want to hear them.”

That was all he said before attacking your neck with wet kisses, trailing down to your collarbone and to your chest. Before he could take his kisses any further, he pulled away.

He placed a quick peck on your lips, before taking your hips in his hands. “I need you to get on your knees for me, please baby.” Oh, when he called you baby like that you knew he was desperate.

“Anything for you, spence.” you told him before returning the favour and placing a long kiss on his lips.

You then moved off his lap, positioning yourself on the bed, so you were leaning your head on your arms, your ass in the air. The pillows under your arms lifted you a bit and you could comfortably turn your head and watch your boyfriend undress. He was already in his pyjamas, so he didn’t take long.

Then he moved behind you, grabbing your ass in his large hands, slowly spreading you apart for him. You wiggled your hips, making the bells jingle again. Ah, so that was why Spencer wanted you in this position.

He gently pulled your panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. The moment he told you to get on your knees you knew he wasn’t in the mood for any foreplay today and to be honest, neither were you. You had been apart for so long that it didn’t surprise you when you felt Spencer’s throbbing length gliding through your folds.

Every time his tip rubbed against your hole, you couldn’t help but moan, quiet pleas for more leaving your lips. Spencer complied, his tip now prodding at your entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside of your hole, giving you both time to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer loved the way your warm walls gripped his cock, and you loved how you could feel ever ridge of him against you. Once his hips were flush to your ass, he let one of his hands wander over your back, the gentle touch making goosebumps form all over your body.

After a moment he pulled out almost completely before burying himself inside of you again, the movement triggered the bells, quiet ringing accompanying the sound of skin hitting skin. Spencer continued his movements, slowly speeding up, obsessed with the noises of you and your panties.

The sound of the bells seemed to spur him on, his breath getting almost erratic while he was driving himself in and out of you. His grip moved to your waist as to not silence the noise of the bells.

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and the calls of his name whinier.

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m so close,” your voice was breathy, but you knew he heard you when he only increased the speed of his thrusts.

“I’m close too baby. Come with me, please. I need you.”

It didn’t take more for you. With a shout of his name you came, your orgasm hitting you hard. Your whole body trembled as you felt Spencer’s cock twitch and release inside of you. His thrust came to a stop, and he slowly let himself lay on top of you, his front connecting to your back.

He pressed his lips to yours, before pulling out of you. You whine at the loss, but Spencer is quick to place another kiss on your lips and wrap his arms around you, pulling you close.

“That was amazing, angel. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Spencer. Merry Christmas.”

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

#x reader #reader insert #ao3 #love #fluff #no y/n #criminal minds #smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #mathew gray gubler #mgg #christmas

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taeyongdoyoung · 1 day ago

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poison

summary: tasting the king's meals for poison is a great honour to be bestowed on you. but poison is not the only thing you're interested in tasting... paring: king!haechan x maid!reader genre: royalty!au, romance, drama, smut warnings: reader has anxiety, food-tasting, mentions of poison, hierarchical system, rich guy/poor girl trope, shitty ex jaemin (sorry boo 💞), evil uncle trope, threats, mentions of blood, insecurities, crying, pet names, lots of kissing, inexperienced reader, lowkey corruption kink, fingering, handjob, cum-eating, loss of virginity, unprotected sex author's note: the plot is loosely inspired by some historical kdramas and the folk of the air trilogy 🥰 also, there are some references to nct songs in bold bc it's me, duh word count: 4.8k

Your life as a maid in the royal palace is pretty boring. You wake up, you prepare meals in the kitchen, you wash clothes, you clean rooms, you sneak a piece of stale bread if you find any (if you're lucky even some cheese), you go to sleep, repeat. Every day is the same. No drama, no adventure, nothing out of the ordinary. You don't like it but it's all you can do so you can send some money to your poor family.

That is until on one random day you are summoned to the king's chambers immediately, the other maids saying it is of utmost importance. You are panicking. Did you do something wrong? You try to attend to your duties with all the care and attention to detail possible. Will you be scolded or worse, punished, for some mistake you cannot place? You try to calm your rapidly beating heart, as you enter the king's room.

Looking down nervously, you bow deeply, not able to think of anything else to say, rather than mumbling a weak "Your Majesty".

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you," king Haechan says in his signature deep voice.

His words do little to ease your mind and your hands are still shaking.

"I've been told by my most trusted counsellor that I have many enemies and cases of poisoned aristocrats have been increasing. So, after discussing it in great detail, he advised me to look for a food taster. Someone I could count on not to betray me," the king explains.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, but w-why me?" you ask meekly.

"You know my counsellor Jaemin, don't you? I believe you two were once…intimate. He said you could definitely be trusted. And I trust him with my life, so…"

Your damn ex Jaemin…You can't tell if him recommending you to the king as a potential food taster is a compliment or a curse. After all, you could literally die from poison. But then again, what can you do? You can't exactly disobey the king's direct command. At the end of the day, he bestowed a great honour on you. Anyone else would be jumping with joy. Anyone else but you.

"Your Majesty, I'm not denying you, of course. It's just that…I'm the only source of income for my poor parents. I can't bear to think of them all on their own."

"You have my word. Should anything happen to you…your parents will be well taken care of," the king promises and there is so much compassion and sincerity in his voice, you have no choice but to believe him.

"Very well, then. I'll try all your meals before you," you vow solemnly.

"Splendid," the king claps his hands.

That is how your boring days at the royal palace come to an abrupt end. You try the first couple of meals anxiously and with little appetite. Your stomach hurts from nervousness and not because there is any poison in the food. As time goes by, the food-tasting process becomes second nature to you. Eventually, you convince yourself that the chances of actual poison are low and you begin to enjoy your daily interactions with the king.

"What do we have for lunch today, my sweetest treasure?" the king asks. You like how he addresses you. As if you are genuinely important to him. As if it would pain him if he lost you. It's a kind gesture to distract you from the reality of how replacable you are.

"Your favourite, Your Majesty. Kimchi jjigae," you respond politely.

"Yesss, it's gonna be a great day!" the king squeals happily like a little boy.

It is an unwelcome reminder of how young he actually is. Unwelcome because you cannot imagine how difficult it must be for him. Enemies lurking at every corner, having all this power and responsibilities…and no one to share them with.

After you try the kimchi jjigae and check its safety, the king begins eating excitedly.

"You know that not all poisons kick in immediately, right?" you know it's rude to interrupt him but you cannot help yourself. "There is still a chance that we both get poisoned but the symptoms appear later."

"I know, but…" the king sighs, his mouth still full. Once he finishes chewing, he finishes his sentence. "It's still a precaution. At least Jaemin seems to think so."

You roll your eyes at the mention of your ex.

"Did you not end things on good terms?" the king is curious.

"We just…had lots of differences. Jaemin, being from a higher social class, said that I was just a way to pass the time. That he didn't see any future for us…That he would never marry me."

"Ouch," the king keeps chewing his favourite food. "I mean, it's technically true you belong to different worlds, but he could have said it more nicely."

"Do you trust his judgement? I'm not talking about relationships. Just…on the topic of poisons and stuff," you need to know.

"I suppose. We've known each other for so long, it'd be silly not to trust him."

"May I make a suggestion?" you inquire. "I know I'm not as qualified as Jaemin, but it's still worth taking other people's opinions into consideration."

"Sure," the king shrugs. "What did you have in mind?"

"If there are so many cases of aristocrats being poisoned, why don't you try taking a little poison each day to build an immunity? I've heard this method is quite common in other kingdoms."

"Where did you learn that?" the king asks you suspiciously.

"I read it in a book somewhere."

"You can read? No offense."

"None taken. When I'm done with my maid duties, I sneak into the royal library sometimes. Don't tell the king," you joke.

"Your secret's safe with me," the king laughs.

Time passes in the same old way. Cleaning, cooking and food-tasting. Repeat. One evening, the king summons you again.

You are about to take a bite from the food before him when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist and stops you.

"I don't want you to do that anymore," he murmurs.

"What?"

"I've started taking a little poison each day to build an immunity, like you advised me to. So far, I've been doing alright. And…I just think it's unfair, alright? What if you actually die?" the king whispers, as if the thought is so unbearable to him he can't even say it. "I can't lose you. I…trust you too much."

He trusts you? The thought is so bizarre in a flattering way your heart hurts upon hearing his sincerity.

"Are you planning to find another food-taster, then?" the very question is painful to you. Despite the potential danger, you don't want to be replaced. You want to keep being his person.

The king shakes his head.

"No life is worth more than mine. I'm not doing that outdated thing anymore."

"Of course, your life is worth the most! You are the king!" you exclaim passionately, pulling the food towards you.

"You think I don't know that?" he whisper-shouts, taking the food once again. "You think I don't wake up each morning wishing things were different?"

What…what is he on about? Why would he wish he wasn't the king?

"I'm not sure I follow," you say quietly.

"It's fine. I don't understand myself. Just…don't tell anyone, okay? Not even Jaemin. Let everyone believe you're still tasting my food and come at the allotted times as usual."

The not even Jaemin part shocks you. Does he no longer trust him as he once did? What is going on?!

"As you wish, Your Majesty," you respond, not even thinking of disobeying him. As confusing as everything is, you need him to trust you. More than you've needed anything else in your life.

"Oh and…one more thing. You should call me Haechan. When we're alone, that is."

"Uhm, okay. Haechan?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" he tilts his head cutely.

"Nothing, just trying it out," you chuckle.

Haechan laughs warmly and starts eating calmly.

"I can't tell if you're brave or reckless," you tease him.

"Perhaps both," he shrugs.

One Monday, your worst fear comes true. As you are preparing Haechan's meal, you are faced with his uncle. You've never been a fan of him for some unknown reason, but now you know your suspicions were completely justified.

"Give me the meal," he orders and you are so terrified, you do as he asks.

He pulls a vial out of his pocket and pours it on top of the food nonchalantly, mixing it well with a spoon, so that it doesn't show.

"Say a word to the king and you parents are dead," he threatens.

"What do you know about my parents?" you ask boldly. Foolishly, even.

After Haechan's uncle says the names of your parents and the exact location of their home, you realize he isn't bluffing. What are you going to do?

As you enter Haechan's chambers, you realize you can't do it.

"Ooh, this looks delicious," Haechan is about to put the food into his mouth when you rudely push the spoon away from him, spilling the food all over the ground.

"It's super cold and totally unappetizing," you exclaim the first thing that comes to mind.

Haechan eyes you weirdly but doesn't scold you.

"Have this, instead," you pull a sweet pastry from your pocket, knowing it's safe.

Haechan shrugs, not caring about what he's given.

"So yummy," he smiles happily, not suspecting a thing.

If you tell him, your parents are dead. If you don't, he's dead. Sooner or later.

When his evil uncle questions you later, you lie through your teeth that the king wasn't hungry and tossed the food away in an angry fit. Miraculously, his uncle believes that.

Similar things happen throughout the week. On Tuesday, you eat the food meant for Haechan yourself, hoping that the self-poisoning you've been doing in secret with the help of your apothecary friend Renjun will be plenty of protection and that you'll survive this extra dose of poison. On Wednesday, you explain to Haechan that the food was made with old ingredients and give him a piece of bread and some cheese you've set aside. On Thursday, you once again make a mess and spill the meal, pretending it was a clumsy accident. On Friday, you tell Haechan that you saw a cockroach in the food. Very far-fetched but it somehow works?! On Saturday, you go as far as lying to Haechan that you were so hungry you ate his food in the corridor.

Not once does he question you or get angry. His evil uncle, however, is becoming more and more agitated.

On Sunday, the uncle has had enough of your failed attempts to poison the king. And he shows you something that makes your blood run cold.

Two chopped-off fingers that he claims belong to your parents.

"If you fail again, it'll be their entire hands next time. And then, their heads. Choose wisely," he threatens cruelly.

You seem to be at an impasse.

As you are once more left alone with Haechan, you debate what to do. You are running out of ideas. Haechan's spoon is approaching his mouth eagerly. After all, he's been eating nothing but bread and random snacks all week. Your mind goes blank. If he eats that, he'll surely die. If he doesn't, your parents might die. It's an impossible situation. But you are greedy. Greedy to save both his life and your parents'.

"Stop," you cry out.

Haechan's hand freezes mid-air. It's now or never.

"I have betrayed you, Your Majesty, please kill me," you drop to your knees desperately.

"I told you to call me Haechan," he rolls his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Your uncle has been trying to kill you," you blurt out. "He's been putting poison in your meals for the past week. I kept trying to come up with ridiculous reasons to prevent you from eating it but…he's been threatening my parents. Today he showed me two chopped-off fingers and said the next time I fail to poison you, it'll be their hands and the final time, their heads, but…I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" Haechan asks you to clarify.

"I can't poison you," you admit, eyes filled with tears. Even though your parents' lives are in grave danger, losing Haechan would hurt just as much.

"Could have just said that from the beginning instead of feeding me bread for a week," Haechan teases.

"You believe me?" you inquire nervously. Only now does the gravity of the situation strike you. What if he'd chosen to side with his uncle and executed you for treason?

"Jaemin's been warning me about my uncle plotting against me for a while now. I thought it was just his paranoia, but…I'm inclined to believe you and Jaemin."

"Over your own flesh and blood?" you are pleasantly surprised.

"Blood doesn't necessarily make you family," Haechan shrugs. "Okay, here's the plan. We'll sneak out of the palace and go find your parents. We'll make sure they go somewhere my uncle won't be able to find them."

You nod numbly, amazed at how quick he's thinking and finding a way out of this situation.

"Then, we'll return to the palace and make my uncle regret ever trying to mess with us."

"Us?" you repeat.

"Yeah, us," Haechan confirms. "We're in this together, no?"

"Hell yeah!" you reply, infected by his enthusiasm to find a solution.

Once you dress up with cloaks and daggers, Haechan leads you through a secret tunnel hidden behind the royal library that takes you both out of the palace.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Haechan whispers in your ear, his hand on your lower back, making you gasp for air.

"Who am I gonna tell? The king?" you joke to distract him from how affected you are by his gentle touch.

"Yeah, he should never know about this," Haechan chuckles in the dark and kisses you on the lips, taking you by surprise. You…he…what?!

You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate for the way he grounds you and makes you believe it will all be alright, you'll find a way out of this mess. Together.

He is the one to initiate the kiss but sadly, he is also the one to end it as abruptly as it started.

"As much as I'm enjoying the taste of your lips, we have to get to your parents and make sure they're okay."

"Right, right," you agree. He's more concerned about your parents than you, which speaks volumes about his noble character.

You resist the urge to swoon and try to focus on the task at hand.

Once you get to your parents' place, you are happily amazed to find all their fingers intact! That bastard was bluffing!~But the question remains…whose fingers were that?!

"You'll have to go to another town," you explain impatiently. "Haechan has some trusted friends who'll take you in."

"H-haechan?" your mom repeats in shock upon hearing you call the king by his first name.

"Uhh," you look to Haechan nervously for a way to explain. You know he told you to only call him that when it's the two of you but it just slipped so naturally…

"It's okay," he reassures you. "Your daughter has saved my life on multiple occasions. Making sure you two are fine is the least I could do."

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," your dad is even more stunned by Haechan's gentle demeanour.

"Just returning the favour. Your daughter's irreplaceable."

Oh. You wonder if he truly believes that or is simply trying to ease your parents' worries.

Soon enough, you parents are travelling to Haechan's friends and you and the king are riding back to the palace.

Immediately, he summons a court meeting and gives the order for his uncle to be brought to justice in front of all the aristocrats. His uncle is struggling to escape the guards' arms and screaming treason. But Jaemin's and your account of the uncle's actions are enough to convince the people of the truth. Eventually, other aristocrats start speaking up of suspicious things Haechan's uncle has done or said like threatening them or their family in an attempt to take the throne. In no time, the uncle is imprisoned.

"You should have just killed him," Jaemin tells Haechan quietly. "He would have done the same to you."

"I do things differently," Haechan replies. "If you were king, you'd understand."

Jaemin shrugs.

"Lucky for me, I'll never know what that's like."

Haechan rolls his eyes, trusting that his friend has no such ambitions and is happy with his life as a counsellor.

Even with the threat of Haechan's uncle behind bars, he still continues to take little doses of poison to build an immunity. You don't tell him but you do the same, carrying on with food-tasting his meals before him. You value your life, sure. But you value his more.

One random Tuesday, Haechan summons you to his chambers. But the hour does not indicate food-bringing activities. Just like the first time, you are overwhelmed by a strange sense of anxiety. Even though you've known him for so long and have been through so much together, it still unnerves you, being alone with him. You don't know if things would be different if he weren't king. Perhaps not. There is just something about Haechan that makes your knees tremble in the best way possible.

"You've asked to see me, Your Majesty?" you mumble.

"When will you get rid of that annoying habit? It's just me…Haechan," he reminds you needlessly.

"I know, but you're still the king."

"That sounds so detached," Haechan groans. "But I'm hoping what I have to say will convince you to only call my name. Not just when we're alone."

"What are you saying?" you're beyond confused.

"Marry me. Become the queen of my kingdom," he pleads, taking your hand in his.

"But…you can't," you whisper in shock, reminded of how adamant Jaemin was. And if the distance between your place in society and Jaemin's was big…then, the distance between your and Haechan's worlds seems far more insurmountable.

"I can," Haechan looks more determined than anything to do this.

"People will talk…They won't be happy."

"Fuck people," Haechan scoffs. "Will you have me or not?"

"Of course, I will, Haechan," you cry out. "You've shown me more kindness and understanding than anyone in my life."

"You do know I'll give you anything you desire?" Haechan speaks softly. "As long as you're by my side, as you have been so far."

"You do know I don't want anything, right? Even if you weren't king, I'd choose you in any universe."

"Are you serious?" Haechan smiles in disbelief, the idea so foreign to him.

"Of course I am," you insist. "Even if you were a poor bard singing in taverns."

"Hm. I do love singing," Haechan smirks and kisses you.

And gods, his lips are sweeter than any meal you've tasted and every poison you've consumed. You could never get enough.

Your wedding day finally arrives. Shockingly, people are more accepting of your union than you anticipated, because they take your food-taster position in consideration and how valiantly you exposed Haechan's evil uncle. Your parents, as well, are happy to see you and Haechan together.

However, there is one person who is against.

"Is that why you broke up with me? Aiming high, I see," Jaemin snickers rudely once you are out of Haechan's sight for a brief moment at the wedding afterparty.

"I broke up with you because you said I was just a way to pass the time and you see no future for us. If you think I'm with Haechan because of his crown, you're even more foolish than I thought," you scoff.

"Oh, really?" Jaemin raises his eyebrows. "So, you're saying if Haechan lost his title as king, you'd still be with him?"

"Yes, I would. But the fact you're even talking about that can be considered treason by some."

"You know I'm loyal to Haechan. But do you honestly think you're good enough for him? You could never satisfy him. He'll grow tired of you, you'll see. You're so fucking…cold," Jaemin hisses.

His words sting more than when he implied you were with Haechan because of his power. It is true that you are not experienced. Even though you were with Jaemin for a while, you two never…went all the way. You were perhaps far too romantic but you wanted to save it for your wedding night.

"Well, lucky for you, you'll never get to feel how warm I can be," you say with a self-assured smile. "Now, piss off and let me enjoy my wedding."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and seemingly has nothing else to say, leaving you alone.

Why did he have to say all that stuff? You know it's not entirely true, but it still sucks. Jaemin was the one who ended what you two had with his cruel words. It's just that you were the only one brave enough to finally call it quits. And you're glad you did. He may be bitter now but he'll eventually find someone better suited for his character. As for you…you were perfectly happy with Haechan. And you wouldn't let Jaemin ruin your special day.

Eventually, the guests started leaving one by one and it was time for your wedding night. To say you are nervous would be an understatement. Your hands are shaking more badly than the first time you were summoned to Haechan's chambers. You are aware that he's a good person who will treat you right…but he's still your king and that fact is intimidating enough to make you tremble with anticipation.

"Good evening, my lovely wife," Haechan enters your (gods, this is insane) now shared room.

Your mind completely blanks and you have no idea what to say. So, you just start crying.

Haechan immediately rushes to you, embracing you and kneeling next to you.

"What's wrong? What did I do?"

"N-nothing," you manage. "It's not your f-fault."

"What is it?" he asks again. "Did Jaemin say anything?"

"How did you know?" you blink furiously to clear your vision from the tears.

"He's not over you yet, is he? It's obvious from the way he looks at you. And me. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's still as objective as he can be when giving me advice, but…he sometimes stares at me as if I stole his dinner. Not that you're dinner. You're obviously much more important than that and uh…I really should stop talking, shouldn't I?"

You laugh, pleasantly distracted by his ramblings.

"You're good. And he did say some stuff implying I was a gold digger, but…frankly, I don't care about his opinion."

"I'm gonna kill him," Haechan gets up but you are quick enough to grab his wrist.

"No, please, stay. Let him think what he wishes. I only care about what your opinion of me."

"Darling, I am perfectly confident you did not marry me because of my title."

"I know. I'm not talking about that. I mean…I'm just nervous I won't be able to please you. I've never done this before," you explain nervously.

"You and Jaemin never…?" Haechan waves his hand in the air meaningfully.

"I wanted to wait till my wedding night. So, um, here we are, I guess."

"Oh, my angel," Haechan places a hand on your cheek. "You don't have to worry about that. Just, relax, and let me take care of you."

"No, no. Teach me. I'll do anything you say, just…guide me, please?" you plead him, looking up at him, your eyes still moist with tears.

"Okay," Haechan agrees easily. "Take off your clothes."

You gulp anxiously and start unbuttoning your wedding dress. Why is it so hard? Why are there so many freaking buttons?

"Gods, you're trembling," Haechan points out the obvious and his impatience takes over. He removes your hands from your dress and finishes the remaining buttons himself. You are grateful for his help, but you still feel like a total failure for not being able to complete one simple task.

"I'm s-sorry," you pout.

"Don't apologize," Haechan shakes his head. "Can I touch you?"

You nod and he caresses you with his pretty fingers. It feels so sticky and weird but…weird good. Definitely good.

"You're so cute, you know that?"

"N-no, stop," you disagree, chuckling.

"Stop what? Stop doing this?" Haechan teases you but continues his motions, because he sees how much you're enjoying it.

"Stop calling me cute," you elaborate.

"You're so not cute," Haechan obliges jokingly. "That was a lie, by the way."

You laugh again, not just because of his words, but because the things he's doing with his hands make you feel so amazing you can't hold it in.

"You like that, my pretty wife? You like being touched by your husband?" Haechan talks you through it.

"Yes! So much! You have no idea!" you scream as you fall apart under him.

"I think I do," he smirks proudly and lets you ride it out. Then, he takes his fingers out…and licks them clean. Your eyes widen in shock. You've never imagined such a sight possible. The king of the country just did…THAT to you. And against all reason, you're still breathing.

"Show me how to do this to you," you beg, wanting to make him feel as good as you.

"It won't be the same," Haechan giggles. "But I'll give the best of me."

He takes off his clothes hurriedly, extremely excited to teach you everything he knows. You are amazed to see him in his full glory. His golden skin radiates in the dimlit room.

"You look incredible," you gasp.

Haechan tilts his head to the side, his cheeks turning red.

"May I touch you?" you ask reverently, still in awe of his sun-like beauty.

"We're married. Of course you can," Haechan reminds you sweetly and guides your hand, showing you all the way he likes to be touched, telling you what feels good and what doesn't (though everything you do feels good for him but he won't tell you just yet).

You do your best to follow his instructions and soon enough become bold enough to start experimenting yourself. He is enjoying it judging by the expressions on his heavenly pretty face.

"You're so hard. Isn't it uncomfortable?" you inquire, genuinely curious.

"It kinda is. But it's also a good thing. It means I'm really into you."

"The way when you touch me and I'm drippin' and it's kinda strange but also feels nice?" you try to explain the logic in your own terms.

"Exactly that way. You're a quick study," Haechan praises you.

"I just have a very good teacher," you compliment him in return and kiss him deeply, your hand still stroking him.

Soon enough, his release comes and you marvel at how much of it there is. You gather some of it with your finger and lick it, just like he had done with you.

"Fuck. You don't have to do that," Haechan moans.

"But you did it? Isn't it okay?" you blink innocently.

"It's not that it isn't okay. Just saying, you don't have to. I bet it tastes weird."

"No, it's not weird," you shake your head adamantly. "I mean, it's you, so I think it tastes sweet."

"Better than poison?" Haechan teases.

"Definitely better," you agree without thinking.

"I know you've been tasting my meals even when I told you to stop," Haechan blurts out all of a sudden.

"You knew?" you whisper in shock.

"I felt so bad but I didn't mention it because I knew no matter what I said, you'd keep doing it."

"You thought correctly," you sigh. "But you don't have to feel bad. I'm also taking little doses of poison each day, so I'll be fine. We'll both be fine, I'll make sure of it."

Haechan kisses you again, gripping your hair firmly, but gently at the same time.

"Remind me again what did I do to deserve you?"

"Did the Sun ever do anything but shine to make the Earth revolve around it?" you smile fondly.

"You're saying I'm your Sun?" Haechan presses his forehead against yours.

"Provided I'm your Earth," you respond.

"Well, did you know the fate of the Earth is to be consumed by the Sun?" Haechan informs you with a sweet voice but sombre expression.

"Consume me, then," you gladly consent and he slides inside of you all too smoothly.

Earth and Sun, moving together as one. Two entirely different worlds and yet…you belong with each other.

"You're too sweet for me," you murmur, chasing his lips once more.

"You've had too much poison your taste buds are off," Haechan jests.

"Maybe so," you grin. "I should probably drink more of you as an antidote."

"I'm counting on it, my beloved wife."

The End

#nct #haechan #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #haechan imagines #writing #haechan angst #nct angst

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shoepixie · 1 day ago

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HI! So I'm a human example of this! No, not the *result* of eugenics, but definitely the sort of person eugenics assholes got excited about, and something they probably would create if they got their way. See, a lot of eugenics-obsessed assholes in the 80s got excited about brains like mine in and had a variety of names for them and I don't remember a *lot* about that time but there were lots of tests and poking at me and a few really boring clubs that were supposed to be prestigious only they didn't even have a damn soda machine so how cool could they honestly have been? Turns out you gotta have a better metric for 'paragon human' than 'BRAIN GO VROOM' cos, guess what, that doesn't actually make a realiably excellent human! Turns out brains aren't actually computers, and one that's overclocked just overheats, and yes it goes *faster* but it doesn't actually think *better* without training it to do that, also. That's education. And it still makes decisions based on emotion, because that's what they do. Also being smart doesn't actually get you far if you happen to be in a culture that's suspicious of intellect, and being really creative doesn't do you a lot of good if you happen to be in a culture that doesn't value creativity, and neither does you any good if you don't have good support and a stable environment and good medical access and...you know, all the things that let ANY person make the most of themselves. And maybe, like maybe, people are just like animals, and having some really exceptional trait also makes you sort of weird and fragile in really weird and unpredictable and often debilitating ways. It's so so so hard to live this way. I can't imagine why anyone would want to do that on purpose.

I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit

Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"

well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs

like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive

Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well

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urmum-lovesme · 2 days ago

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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P7

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS MY SEXYS!!!!!!! For the holidays thought I'd ramp things up, Let's see, Y/n's a bit of a diva in this tbh, she's a little cheeky, get it ig she's just a girl after all. Midsummer's is well underway, little feature from the gangs group chat and y/n and rafe? well cue careless whisper and shut your eyes *wink wink nudge nudge*. I've never actually written smut before so cut me some slack but it's lowkey inspired by Chappell's 'Picture You' iygwim... Love you all so so so much, enjoy and have a great holiday!!!!!!!!!!

warnings: nsfw! smut, self pleasure (rafe), kinda pervy rafe? (idk idk don't shoot me) dismissive mother figure (y/n lowkey got mommy issues ngl), drugs, smoking, alcohol, driving under the influence, suggestive behaviour (y/n).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Midsummers was lingering around the corner, Y/n pacing at her front door anxiously as she waited for the courier, peering out the window by the door in hopes of sighting the van pulling up by the gates. If he didn’t show up in the next five minutes she was going to have a meltdown. Her phone ringing loudly made her jump, she looked down to the device vibrating on the counter as she picked it up the name ‘Rafey’ shining up at her,

“Hey Princess”

Rafe was sat in his room, lounging back on his bed, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling fan which was revolving in slow turns. It was Midsummers today, and he was feeling antsy, knowing he needed to get a gift for the girl, he wanted to get her the best gift possible, their little tradition starting when he got her a small bouquet of flowers a few years ago, he liked to say that it was her early birthday present, but it was truly just an excuse for him to get her something. Of course this year it had to be better, after the night a few days ago, after his.. realisation that the girl was more than just a ‘best-friend’, he knew the evening was his chance to talk to her.

If that's what you wanna call it then-

Y/n pressed the phone to her ear, her voice slightly breathless as she answered, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Rafe’s voice rang out over the phone, straight to the point as usual.

“At home. Waiting for the courier.” She started pacing again, one hand holding the phone, the other tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt as she started to ramble.

“They’re late, and if they don’t show up soon, I’m screwed. I need this dress or I’m literally not coming. I’m not coming Rafe -do you know how embarrassing it would be to wear the sam-“

“Relax,” Rafe said, his tone steady but with the faintest hint of amusement. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

“I can’t relax!” she snapped, her frustration spilling over. “Do you know how much this means? If I don’t have it ready by tonight-”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, the girl was prone to overthinking, his voice softening. “It's a big deal. You’ve been talking about it non-stop for the past two weeks but freaking out isn’t going to help.”

Y/n groaned, slumping against the wall near her door. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one on the verge of public humiliation.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then he spoke again, quieter this time.

“What’s really going on..?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the phone. She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a car pulling up outside made her stop. Her head whipped toward the window, and she exhaled in relief.

“Courier’s here,” she said quickly. “I gotta go.”

“Y/n—” Rafe started, but she hung up before he could finish.

Whoopsies

Fucking brat

She shoved the phone into her pocket and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch as the courier climbed out of their van. The man carried a medium-sized box toward her, looking apologetic.

“Sorry for the delay,” the courier said, handing it over.

“It’s fine, thank you.” Y/n muttered, clutching the package to her chest like it was a lifeline. She watched the courier leave before heading back inside, shutting the door behind her. Her phone buzzed again, and she pulled it out to see another call from Rafe. She sighed, debating whether to answer. Part of her wanted to ignore it and focus on the package, but the other part of her knew Rafe wouldn’t just let it go -he was probably going to scold her for hanging up.

“Hi, again-”

“-Don’t ‘hi’ me,”

Rafe shot back. “You hung up on me. What’s going on?”

The girl sat down on the couch, setting the box beside her. She took a deep breath. “It’s just… a lot, okay? Everything has to be perfect tomorrow, and mom’s been on my back about it and I’m scared I’ll mess it up.” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“Right” Rafe spoke out, though she could already hear the knowing tone creeping into his voice.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, though her cheeks were already burning, she felt embarrassed she was so bothered,

Always overthinking

Just a dumb party

“Listen,” Rafe said, his tone turning serious again. “You’ve been stressing yourself out, I get it—you want to impress everyone.”

She didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volume.

“Y/n, you’re already... pretty amazing,” he continued. “You don’t need some big, grand gesture to prove that.” His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she whispered,

“Thanks, Rafe.”

“Anytime,” he said lightly. “Now go open that box and finish whatever masterpiece you’re working on. And stop overthinking.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Talk later?”

“Always,” he replied before hanging up. Y/n set the phone down, staring at the box beside her. Rafe’s words lingered in her mind as she reached for it opening it, fingers sliding over the soft silky material.

You better look good bitch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl sat at her vanity, dabbing a final touch of highlighter onto her cheekbones, as her hands moved down to tighten the belt around her waist of the fuzzy robe she had on. The soft music filled the background as she admired the dress hanging nearby, waiting to be put on. She picked up her phone, her fingers tapped against the screen, nails causing little clicks to rise into the air of the room, mixing in with the soft sound of the music playing in the background. She typed to the group chat,

Princess. : Lowkey might be late …

She hesitated for a moment, then hit send, her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Young Rich & Sexy (1 unread message)

Rafey : u got ur whole life planned out to the minute tf u mean ur late

Princess : Fashionably ofc

Kels : Why are you such a

Kelc : Wait what is it she says

T-man : Diva

Kels : Yeah

Kels : Why are you being a diva

Princess : You guys are so dramatic. I’m just finishing up, okay?

T-man : Nah

Rafey : “finishing up” means ur still running around in a robe and slippers

Princess : It’s nothing!!!

Princess : Just running a little behind

Rafey : Oh, so you’re spiralling

T-man : Got it

Kels : How many outfit changes are we at? Three? Four?

T-man : Five Minimum

Princess : I hate all of you

Rafey : Big words.

Rafey : Are you actually leaving, though?

Kels : Yeah, just get here before Rafe starts flirting with himself in the mirror

Rafey : Shut up

Rafey : At least I don’t take an hour deciding on a bowtie like you

Kels : ...

Kels : Fuck you

T-man : Y/n, this is what happens when you’re not around to keep us in line

Princess : Are you guys drinking already?

Rafe : Yes

Kels : No

T-man : Yes

Kels : Oh

Kels : Yes?

Kels : BAHAHAHAH

Princess : You’re all hopeless

She grabbed her clutch and slipped her phone into it, giving herself one final once-over in the mirror before heading out the door of her bedroom to meet her parents downstairs. The group chat continued buzzing, but she ignored it, feet padding down the stairs to slip on her heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The driver eased the car to a smooth stop in front of the country club, a line of luxury cars wound behind them, each filled with kooks dressed to the nines, ready to celebrate… what was it again?

Something about tradition, about status-

She stepped out of the car, the setting sun warm against her skin as she adjusted her dress. She followed closely behind her parents, her father offering a polite nod to the valet while her mother stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. Before the girl could take another step toward the entrance, her mother’s hand landed lightly on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N turned, surprised by the tight grip and the serious expression etched on her mother’s face.

“Wait,” Marie said in a hushed tone, her voice low but firm enough to cut through the murmurs of the other guests near the entrance. She straightened, smoothing an invisible crease on her dress before turning her full attention to her daughter. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I want to remind you to be on your best behaviour tonight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m always on my best behaviour.”

“Don’t be clever,” her mother snapped quietly, her tone just sharp enough to sting. “This isn’t just some casual get-together. It’s important. People are watching, Y/N. People who matter.” She emphasised to the girl.

Classic

“Watching for what, exactly?” Y/N shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“To see if I chew with my mouth closed or if I trip on my heels?”

Her mother’s jaw tightened. “To see if you’re worthy of standing in this room. To see if you reflect the family we’ve worked hard to build. You think reputation doesn’t matter, but it does. It matters more than you realise.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her posture defiant. “Right, because it’s all about what they think, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” her mother said sharply, her eyes narrowing.

“You don’t have to like it, but you will respect it. Your father and I have done everything to ensure we’re respected. I won’t have you undo it with some thoughtless remark or petty argument.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, biting back the words bubbling on her tongue. She hated these conversations- hated being reminded that she wasn’t just herself but an extension of her family’s carefully constructed image. Her mother’s gaze softened slightly, but her voice remained steady.

“This isn’t just about us, Y/N. One day, it will matter for you, too. You’ll see that eventually.”

Before Y/N could respond, her father’s voice cut through the tension. “Are we going in, or are we standing out here all night hmm?” The man could never notice the tension between the two women, he only saw his caring wife and sweet daughter. He leant down pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek before wrapping his hand around Y/n’s waist pulling her towards him holding both women closely, “my girls.”

Her mother straightened, her composure snapping back, she gave Y/N a once-over, her expression unreadable, before turning toward the entrance taking her husbands hand and walking with him. The man turned his head back shortly, sending a wink in the girls direction, her fathers action brought a small smile to her face. With a deep breath, she pushed her frustration from her mother comments aside and followed her parents into the club, the sound of clinking glasses and polite laughter greeting them as the door swung open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scent of champagne and roses hung heavy in the air as Y/N stepped further inside, clutching the stem of a freshly poured flute. She felt the weight of eyes on her as she moved through the room, the navy fabric skimmed her body, hugging her waist before cascading to the floor in soft ripples. It was all so curated, so polished, but Y/N barely registered the scene. Not until her eyes landed on Rafe. He was standing near the bar, leaning casually against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His sharp jawline caught the light as he turned slightly, his shoulders broad under the perfectly tailored suit jacket he wore.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met for a split second, his brow raising slightly as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

His grip on the glass tightened as he straightened subtly, his attention narrowing entirely on Y/N as she entered the room. She was impossible to miss, even in the crowd. The navy satin of her dress shimmered under the light. His eyes trailed upward, catching on the delicate V of the neckline that framed her collarbones, which glowed faintly with a soft sheen. Her hair, threaded with tiny white flowers, was swept back to reveal the curve of her neck. She looked…

Wow

His throat felt dry.

Rafe’s gaze followed her as she moved toward the bar, her posture poised but relaxed, her fingers curling around a champagne flute. As she made her way towards the boy, she noticed Topper and Kelce standing behind him, eyeing up a group of girls giggling by the tables.

“Surpriseeee.”

She sang out as she did a little spin in front of the boy, the silk swaying with her. “Only,” she looks over to the clock on the wall, “15 minutes late.”

His eyes ran down over her body as her movement, a little smirk on his face before he chuckled at her comment,

“15 minutes? Might as well have not showed” He teased her as he tilted his head, looking down at her once again.

“Asshole.” She mutters out shoving his shoulder slightly before she looked over at him.

Damn

“You look good,” she spoke genuinely, her hand coming out to smooth down the blazer she’d shifted as she pushed him, she spoke playfully,

“handsome.”

He watched her as she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in his blazer, his heart faltering at her compliment.

Handsome huh?

“You look….you look beautiful Y/n” He spoke out quietly, leaning in a little closer to her, his eyes roaming over her face.

A pink hue lifted to her cheeks at his words as her hand trailed down from his chest where she’d smoothed the blazer out, down his arm, to his hand, where her fingers brushed against his, a warm feeling settled in his stomach as her fingers danced over his hand.

“Thanks.” She spoke out quietly. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of a wolf whistle, Topper and Kelce stumbling over towards them as they looked Y/n.

“Kook Princess does it again!”

“Looking good.”

Kelce and Topper speak out to her, both stepping forward, one placing a kiss on her cheek as the other wraps his arms around her in a hug.

“You look like you just stepped out of a magazine. Like, one of those fancy ones with the shiny covers.” Kelce started to babble, Topper following soon after,

“Like the ones you collect what are they cal-“

“Vogue?” The girl asked amused smile on her face at their antics.

“Fuck yeah you look fresh out of Vogue.” Kelce spoke with a shake of his head.

Never heard that one before

“You two always know how to make a girl feel special.” She shot them a playful wink of her own, clearly unbothered by their banter.

“Well I’d hope all those hours of getting ready weren't for nothing.”

She speaks as she looks over to the group of girls huddling together, a hushed giggle breaking out as Topper and Kelce turn around to look at them, one of the girls lifting her hand and wiggling her fingers in a small wave. She spoke to the two boys as Rafe watched, leaning back against the bar counter,

“But you guys clean up well, heard you’ve been turning heads tonight..”

“More like giving head..”

The girls eyes widen as she lets out a loud laugh hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Are you being for real?” She whispers out in a hush as the boy next to her shrugs his shoulder in a nonchalant manner a smirk rising to his face, she pushes Kelce away from her, his hand dropping from her waist,

“Ew you freak” she giggled as she shakes her head.

The boys rambled to each other defensively as she shook her head rolling her eyes at them turning back to Rafe. Y/N reached up absentmindedly to adjust her necklace, a habit she couldn’t seem to shake, only to freeze when her fingers brushed against bare skin. Her brow furrowed as she searched for the familiar chain, but it wasn’t there.

Shit

“I forgot my necklace.” She spoke out frown on her face.

Rafe, who had been watching her from the corner of his eye, leaned in with a teasing smile, the missing chain on her neck was one of the first thing’s he’d noticed when she’d gotten closer to him.

"You wear it everyday? How’d you forget it tonight"

"I don’t know. I just got distracted.” She shrugged as hint of disappointment in her tone.

Rafe’s smile softened, and he raised an eyebrow.

Perfect

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

“What is it?”

Y/N glanced up at him, surprised her head tilting slightly.

He flashed her a grin “C'mon," he said, gently taking her hand.

"Follow me."

The girl slipped her hand into the crook of his arm which he held out for her as he led her away from the main group, stepping out from under the harsh lights and into the quieter side of the party, where the music felt distant and the crowd’s chatter muffled. She followed him curiously, the sound of her heels tapping against the floor drowned out by the thrum of the distant bass. When they reached a secluded corner, Rafe pulled away from her and slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer. Y/N raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued.

“Here.”

He pulled out a small, velvet blue box, holding it out to her.

“It’s your Midsummer’s present."

Y/N blinked, taken aback. "What?" She hadn't been expecting anything, especially not tonight.

What-

Rafe’s smile was genuine, one that didn’t appear often.

“Our tradition? We’ve been doing this for years, -yeah well I have I guess"

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. A small gift- something thoughtful, not extravagant, but always meaningful. And somehow, she’d forgotten about it this year, she’d been so fussed with her dress and her mother, the boy being occupied with his family's business, she didn’t think Rafe would bother this year.

Her fingers brushed over the soft velvet as she took the box from him, her heart skipping a beat as she opened it. Inside lay a dainty, golden necklace, delicate but elegant, with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. The pendant was engraved with their initials-

Y/N . R

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at it for a moment, a soft smile tugging at her lips. The necklace was beautiful, but what really moved her was the thought behind it. It was a symbol of their years of friendship, of the connection they shared that went beyond just tradition.

"Rafe… this is…" She looked up at him, her voice soft with gratitude. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah? You like it”

"I love it Rafe seriously.”

Y/N held the small velvet box in her hands, her fingers still lingering over the necklace inside. Rafe stood in front of her, a soft smile on his lips, watching her with a quiet intensity that made her heart race. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but something about the way he was looking at her made the whole moment feel different—more meaningful than it was in the past years when he’d given her presents.

He smiled, his gaze tender. “I’m glad you like it.”

She nodded, the gesture simple but meaningful. She felt a lump form in her throat, a surge of warmth filling her chest. “Thank you.” She closed the box and stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug. “Really. I love it.” Rafe returned the hug, his hands resting gently on her back. When she pulled away, he held her at arm's length, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Want me to put it on for you?”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a mix of warmth and comfort from his presence. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gently took the necklace from the box, the soft gold chain catching the light as he held it in his hands. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savouring every moment. He stepped a little closer, and Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt his warmth before she even saw him move, the proximity suddenly making the air around them feel heavier, charged with something unspoken. His hands were steady, sure, but there was a tenderness to them as they reached out, the chain dangling between his fingers.

Rafe’s fingers gently grazed the back of her neck as he moved to place the necklace around her, his touch barely there but still enough to send a shiver down her spine. She held her breath for a moment, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the soft brush of his fingertips making her skin tingle.

There was something so simple, so intimate about it.

"Hold still," he murmured, barely audible.

She felt the coolness of the chain against her skin, and then, the soft click of the clasp as he fastened it around her neck.

“There,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Perfect.”

When he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers, Y/N’s heart was still pounding in her chest. She touched the pendant, feeling the cool gold between her fingers, but her mind was still caught on the feel of his touch.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

“Rafe,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she hadn’t expected to feel.

“This… this means so much.”

"I’m happy," he began, his voice lower than usual, as he fidgeted with the cuff of his blazer.

"I didn’t know what to get you this year, so-“

“You didn’t need to get me anything.’

“-I wanted to.”

He swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. He hesitated as he looked at her, the necklace catching the light, glimmering as it rested against her skin. His bowtie suddenly felt awfully tight his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, his breath feeling short. His shaky hand raised to his neck, finger shoving between his shirt and neck to loosen the material. Standing there right in front of him, he couldn't look away from her. His gaze lingered on her, a mix of admiration and something deeper—something he had been fighting to ignore for a long time. His heart was thudding so harshly against his chest he felt like he was going to pass out, he stepped just a little closer, his breath catching in his throat.

Say it now

He needed to.

“Y/N,” he started again, his voice quieter, but no less intense, he hesitated, his pulse racing as his eyes met hers.

"I lo—"

“Y/N!”

He jerked his head up, the words dying on his lips as he looked toward the source of the loud voice.

Wheezie yelled out as she pranced over to the girl happily wide smile on her face, Y/n’s head turned to look to her arms reaching out to catch the younger girl who’d bounded straight into her arms.

Fuck

Y/N’s expression softened immediately, and before she could even say a word, Wheezie was already wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into a tight hug. Y/N let out a strained laugh and returned the hug.

Any time but now...

“Y/N!” Wheezie squealed, her voice full of excitement. “I missed you so much! I haven't seen you in like forever!”

Rafe stood there, frozen, watching them. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, the weight of the moment hanging thick in the air between them. His confession- his almost confession- had been so close.

So close, in fact, that it almost felt like it was still hanging there, unspoken.

Y/N smiled down at Wheezie, her arms around her tightly. "I know, I’ve missed you too, Wheezie," she said warmly.

"Things have been a little busy lately,” her eyes glanced over to Rafe as she spoke out. The boy cleared his throat, trying to shake off the tension, obvious to his sister. His eyes flicked from Wheezie back to Y/N, the opportunity was gone now.

The words he had almost said to her- words that had been building in him for weeks, months even- seemed to slip away, lost in the noise of the party around them.

He gave a tight smile, feeling a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual, even though his voice felt heavier than usual.

"Real busy."

Y/N, sensing the shift in the air, gave him a small but reassuring smile. She knew him too well, probably more than anyone else did. Wheezie ignored their silent interaction, eyes wide with excitement.

“You will not believe what I just found out!” She looked back and forth between them.

Rafe groaned at his sister.

Fucks sake

“Wheezie, not now…”

“You know Audrey and Max? They’re hooking up! For real!” She threw her hands up dramatically, as if she announced the discovery of the century.

“I heard them talking at the bar. They think they’re being all secretive, but—hello?!

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly as she processed the gossip, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously?”

“I was like, what? Audrey and Max? So sneaky!” Wheezie shook her head. The younger girl smiled smugly, then turned her attention to Rafe, who was standing there, still trying to regain his bearings. She raised an eyebrow, noticing the odd tension hanging in the air.

“What’s going on here?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Are you two like, having a moment?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus. His heart was still racing and now, his younger sister was teasing him about it. He forced a smile, shaking his head slightly.

“No, just… catching up,” he said, his voice a little more strained than usual.

Wheezie raised an eyebrow, her playful expression shifting to something more teasing, glancing back and forth between them. She squinted at them, clearly working out what she thought was going on.

“Are you guys fuc-”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly,

Uh-

“What!? No, we’re just…” She stumbled over her words, clearly trying to keep things casual.

“Wheezie, don’t be ridiculous.” Rafe spoke out to the girl in a disapproving tone.

Really not helping here.

Wheezie just raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure, sure. But just so you know, I’m, like, really good at reading people.”

Y/n laughed awkwardly as she looked over at the girl, “right well-”

Wheezie suddenly grabbed the girl by the arm and began tugging her away toward the drink table. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I need to fill you in on the drama.”

Y/N, looking apologetic, glanced back over her shoulder. “Sorry,” she called, offering him a small smile.

“It’s fine,” Rafe quickly replied, forcing a smile, even though a part of him was disappointed as he watched his sister drag the girl away, the navy fabric sewing around her legs as she got lost in the crowd of brightly coloured dresses.

It’s not fine.

He had almost said it- almost told her how he felt, how much she meant to him. But now, the chance had passed, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he’d missed it. That perfect moment was gone, stolen by Wheezie’s innocent oblivion. He sighed, shaking his head, trying to push the frustration aside. He had another chance, right? He just needed to be patient. The music continued to thump in the background, and the party went on, but Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that the one thing he wanted most had just slipped through his fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe lingered by the edge of the party, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she laughed and talked with Wheezie,

“You okay, man?”

Rafe was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Topper, who had appeared beside him, a beer bottle in hand. Topper's eyes were trained on the boy's expression, clearly picking up on the tension. Rafe swallowed hard, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Just... tired,"

he said, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject before Topper could press. He glanced over at the group of girls, including Y/N, who was chatting with the boys sister.

“You’ve been kind of quiet all night.”

Rafe shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of Topper’s observation. "I'm fine," he said quickly, brushing it off again. But this time, it wasn’t as convincing.

“Okay, man,” Topper said with a skeptical smile. “If you say so.” He took a long swig of his beer, then added, more casually,

“Y/n liked her necklace?”

Rafe’s breath caught, and he nodded stiffly.

“Yeah, why?”

Topper shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but Rafe could tell he was watching him closely. The boy let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humour behind it.

Seriously?

“What's the problem.”

Topper just grinned, his tone dropping to something a little more playful but still serious. “Look Rafe, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you should just… say something.”

Rafe’s chest tightened at the words, like a weight had just settled on his ribs.

“What’re you talking bout Top-”

“Come on.”

Topper leaned against the nearby wall, clearly in no rush. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you're into someone. And I know how much you care about her. But don’t wait until she’s looking at someone else..”

The boys eyes drifted over to Y/n, who was now talking to Cooper, a smile on her face as she pushed her hair over her shoulder, laughing at what the boy was saying. Her hands reached out fixing his slightly bent tie, before the boy pulled her towards the floor where couples were dancing, he spun her clumsily to which she shook her head at him happily, her hands now resting on her shoulders.

“You think it’s that easy?” Rafe muttered, as his hand rubbed over his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lights strung up around the club now flickered softly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the crowd. Y/N, with her head tilted back in laughter, let out a genuine chuckle as Topper dramatically reenacted a conversation from earlier in the night, his exaggerated gestures making everyone laugh even harder. Kelce was leaning against the bar, his smile wide, eyes gleaming as he added his own commentary. The girl brought her hand up wiping away at the tear in her eye, maybe she had one too many of those champagne flutes that were being walked around. A warm buzz started in her chest and radiated outward, making everything feel just a little giddier. She glanced around, half-focused on the conversation unfolding before her, the words blending together in a pleasant, almost melodic hum.

Her gaze wandered for a moment, eyes catching on Rafe. The way his smile lit up on his face, the way he looked at her, even from across the room, made her chest flutter, but in a way that felt hazy. Maybe it was the alcohol.

Maybe it’s him?

She wasn’t sure. But everything seemed just a little more intense, despite the slight fuzziness clouding her thoughts.

A grin tugged at Kelce's lips, and he straightened up, pulling a blunt from his blazer pocket with an almost practiced ease. He held it up casually, letting the group see it, a playful smirk dancing on his face.

“How about a little fresh air, some space to breathe?”

His gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth,

“I’m feeling like the beach is calling my name.”

Rafe, still nursing his drink, glanced at the others, his gaze drifting back to Y/N, a bit of quiet time away from the buzz of the club felt like a good idea. He met Kelce’s eyes for a second before shrugging.

“Couldn’t hurt,” he said. Kelce, sensing he was starting to win the group over, gave a knowing nod and flicked the blunt again.

“Exactly. So, what do you say? Beach, fresh air, good company—

“I’m down” Cooper spoke out as he stood up from his seat, Topper nodding along in agreement. Y/N hesitated for a second, but the thought of the beach, the quiet, cool night air felt tempting. She finally nodded, her lips curving into a small smile.

“Why not?”

She glanced at the group, who were already starting to make their way toward the door, then back at her mom. She wasn’t sure how long they'd be gone, and she didn’t want to leave her mom completely unaware of her whereabouts. The girl took a deep breath and made her way back to the bar, where her mother was still chatting away with a few friends, her laughter ringing out louder than it should have.

"Hey, Mom," Y/N said, leaning in close, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

Her mother turned toward her, blinking as if surprised to see her daughter standing there. A wide grin spread across her face, and she let out a small giggle. “Oh! Hi sweet girl," she slurred lightly, “You havin’ fun?”

Y/N smiled, already feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her at her mother’s carefree attitude.

“Yeah, gonna head to the beach with the others... get some fresh air.”

Her mom squinted at her for a moment, still a little disoriented but clearly not at all concerned. She waved her hand dismissively,

“Oh honey, that’s fine, go, go... fresh air is good. Go. Have fun." She paused before pulling her daughter into a quick, tight hug. Y/N squeezed her mom back, her heart a little lighter.

“I will. Love you,” she said, stepping back. Her mom waved her off with a lazy grin, already turning back to her conversation.

"Love you too, baby!"

Her heart clenched slightly, her mother was only ever that way when she was drunk, and she wished it was more often that she got to see her like that. The drunken version of her mom- full of giggles, playfulness and affection- was a rare sight, one that always disappeared by morning. Y/N turned and walked back toward the group, as much as she loved her mom, as much as she appreciated everything she did, there was always a part of her that wished she could hold onto this lighter version of her just a little longer, that maybe one day she could see it without the help of alcohol or the haze of exhaustion. She turned back toward the door, catching up with the group stepping outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She walked a little further toward the back of the club, the sound of her footsteps soft against the path leading to the beach. Her eyes caught sight of the others already moving down the sandy shore, their figures distant in the night, laughing, talking, stumbling around, but someone was waiting for her by the edge of the club’s back entrance. Rafe leaned casually against the brick wall,

“You makin me wait, huh?”

Rafe teased lightly, raising an eyebrow as she stopped in front of him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The tensions of the early evening seemed to wash away, he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol he’d drank over the night or if it was the girls presence, she seemed to put him at ease in a way.

Y/N smiled, feeling a little self-conscious as she glanced at him. “I had to tell mom where I was going,” she said, a slight shrug. “You know how it is.” Rafe’s smile softened just a little, his eyes flickering over her. “Yeah, I get it.”

As they stepped away from the club, the noise and lights faded behind them, leaving just the quiet hum of the ocean and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. The beach stretched out before them, waves lapping gently at the shore. Rafe was moving ahead of her, his stride confident, hands tucked into his pockets. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of her slowing down a little, her heels sinking into the sand with every step. He smirked, clearly noticing the struggle, but there was a softness in his eyes that made it seem more endearing than anything else. Y/N sighed, shifting her weight to one foot as she tried to pull her heel free from the stubborn sand.

“Great”

She muttered under her breath, her gaze on the ground as she wiggled her foot, trying to free herself from the sinking trap. The sand wasn’t ideal, shifting beneath her with every movement, and the heels she wore weren’t exactly beach-appropriate. Rafe took a few steps back toward her, his grin wide but his expression amused.

“Need a hand, princess?”

He teased, the nickname slipping from his lips, she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

"I’ve got it,"

She said, trying to sound determined, but the truth was, the more she tried to pull her foot free, the more stuck she seemed to get. Before Y/N could respond, or even protest, Rafe’s strong arms slipped around her waist. With one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her off the ground and into his arms in a bridal hold.

Y/N let out a surprised hum, her breath catching at the suddenness of it. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, her heart skipping a beat as the world shifted.

That was unexpected

“What—Rafe?” she exclaimed, voice catching with a mix of shock and something else she couldn’t quite identify. The surprise was quickly replaced with a strange sense of comfort, the boy shot her a teasing grin, his arms strong around her as he held her securely,

"You didn’t think I’d leave you stranded in the sand, did you?"

Y/N blinked up at him, still a little stunned. Her voice came out slightly breathless as she muttered,

"You better not drop me."

His smirk deepened, and without missing a beat, he glanced down at her with that same playful gleam in his eyes.

"Drop you?"

He repeated, as though considering it. Then, just as Y/N was about to give him a skeptical look, he slackened his grip just slightly, as though he was going to drop her entirely. Y/N’s eyes widened.

"Rafe!"

She squealed, her hands instinctively tightening around his neck, pulling herself toward him. The sudden shift in weight had her clinging to him tighter, her heart skipping a beat as she could feel the way he was teasing her.

Oh my fucking go-

"Don’t you dare!"

"Gotcha,"

he laughed, lifting her back up his grip firm again as he steadied her. Rafe’s grin only deepened as she clinged onto him.

"Yeah, well, you’ve got a death grip on me now," He teased, his lips almost brushing against her ear as he spoke. "Maybe next time, I’ll actually drop you.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was undeniable.

“I’ll remember that,” she said, but the words came out softer than she meant. As the others came into view, Kelce, Cooper, and Topper all gathered in a loose circle, passing something between them, Rafe slowed his pace.

"Alright, princess," he murmured with a small, amused smile, "this is where I put you down."

How about you don't?

Where did that come from-

Y/N, still nestled in his arms, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean you’re done showing off?"

Rafe's grin softened just slightly,

"Something like that."

With a small chuckle, he gently lowered her feet to the sand, his hands lingering on her waist for just a moment longer than necessary, like he didn’t quite want to let go. Y/N felt a slight chill from being on her own two feet again, but the warmth from his touch lingered. Rafe’s gaze flicked up to the group as they passed the blunt around. Kelce was the first to wave them over with a grin.

“Took you long enough, you guys finally fuck or what?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his eyes already hazy from whatever it was they'd been smoking.

“You wish,” Y/n spoke back as she flicked her middle finger up at him. She glanced at the blunt in Kelce’s hand,

"Thanks for sharing,"

she said, her voice casual, though there was a slight challenge in her tone as she reached out for the blunt taking it from Kelce. Holding the blunt, she exhaled a soft laugh before bringing it to her lips. She took a slow drag eyes fluttering close, feeling the familiar, slightly heady warmth settle in her chest as she held the smoke in her lungs for a second before releasing it into the night air.

Kelce grinned, watching her. "That’s what I like to see," he said with a wink, before reaching for it again.

Y/N passed it off to him, the buzz from the first drag already making her feel a little lighter. She turned her attention to Rafe, who was watching her with a slightly amused, almost thoughtful expression. His gaze that lingered just a moment too long.

“See I can handle myself,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as she leaned back against the sand.

"No need to carry me around like a princess all night."

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head, but there was something almost protective in his demeanour as he shifted closer, taking a seat next to her.

"I’ll carry you whenever I feel like it," he said with a shrug, his grin returning. "Besides, I think you secretly liked it."

Y/N rolled her eyes and she gave him a small smile.

“Maybe. But don’t get used to it.”

The night had stretched into a lazy, hazy blur, the joint passed around clouding any coherent thoughts. The group was lost in their high now, their conversation drifting like the smoke in the air. The beach was quiet, save for the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the occasional laughter that spilled from one of them, the sound of the party behind them occasionally breaking the calmness. Y/n, thoroughly buzzed from the weed and the champagne, was nestled against Rafe, her body leaning into him seeking his warmth. He was resting on his elbows, his posture relaxed, his gaze shifting between the distant shore and the girl every now and then; the sea breeze tousled his hair slightly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his usual tension gone.

The girl, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with laughter. Everything seemed funny to her- Topper’s latest comment, the random thoughts floating through her mind, even the way the sand beneath her seemed to shift with every movement she made. Her giggles were light and contagious, Rafe’s eyes flickered down at her, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smile.

Her fingers, wobbly, were fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, moving from one to the next as though they were the most fascinating things in the world. His shirt was loose, the fabric stretching slightly as she moved her fingers, Rafe felt a light tension coil in his chest. He couldn’t quite explain it, maybe it was the way her fingers traced his shirt, or the sound of her voice when she spoke.

He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he let her keep fidgeting with his shirt, his focus shifting back and forth between her and the sound of Kelce and Topper laughing as they waded through the waves. They had made their way to the edge of the water to cool off, their carefree chatter and occasional splashes rising over the sound of the ocean.

Y/n shifted, her fingers brushing under one of the buttons on his shirt again, causing her hand to graze his skin. The brief contact made Rafe’s breath catch slightly, and his body went rigid for a split second, though he did his best to mask it.

So warm

“Stop fidgeting with my shirt,” he said lightly, though there was no edge to his tone, just a quiet humour in his voice. The girl looked up at him then, her lips curled into a, playful smile.

“I can’t help it,” she replied, her voice teasing, her eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and warmth. “I’m bored…” She whined. Rafe chuckled, his gaze flicking between her and the others in the distance before he let his eyes rest back on her.

“Bored, huh?” he repeated, leaning just a little closer, the warmth of his body mixing with hers.

“Maybe I could entertain you...”

There was a pause, a charged silence hanging between them. Rafe’s words were a playful invitation, but his tone had shifted ever so slightly, an underlying edge of something more subtle in between them. His gaze softened as he looked down at her, his eyes lingering on her lips for just a moment before snapping back to her eyes.

Y/n didn’t seem to notice the shift, her giggles still bubbling from her chest, softening as her breath caught, fingers pausing on his shirt, her hand resting lightly against his chest for a brief second.

“Maybe you should,” she said, her voice a little dreamy.

Her heart was racing, thoughts a little jumbled from the joint she'd kept bringing back to her lips, she cursed herself for her lack of self restraint. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s body beside hers, his arm brushing against hers as he shifted, his eyes never left hers, and the soft amusement in his gaze now mixed with something more intense, more uncertain.

Don't do it-

But what's the harm?

Her fingers trailed up to the top of his shirt, her eyes looking at the black bowtie done up under his neck, her finger looped around the material loosening slightly, watching as it falls around his neck. Her teeth bite at her bottom lip as she pops open his top button, trailing down to the next two opening up the material, his skin now exposed to the cool sea air, her breath hitched but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in just a little, her lips barely grazing the skin of his jaw. The move was slow, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Rafe’s eyes narrow just slightly. He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to make the next move.

His hand, without thinking, shifted a little closer to her. His fingers brushed lightly against her side, a soft touch that sent a jolt through her. As she pulled away from his jaw slightly, her breath shallow, Rafe could see the flush spreading across her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, her pupils dilated, the hint of glassiness in her eyes betraying the effects of the drug. The subtle tremor in her fingers as she rested them on his chest didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the way her gaze wavered—she was there, but not entirely there.

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, the air between them thick with an electric tension. She seemed so close, so present- but at the same time, there was a layer of fog surrounding her that made him pause. The way she looked at him, her eyes soft but unfocused, her body language so open and trusting… it created an urge within him, something that made him want to pull her in.

But the longer he looked at the girl, he came to terms with what was going on and his stomach tightened slightly. This wasn't right.

She's high you gotta stop

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, God, he wanted her more than he could put into words—but in that moment, he saw the vulnerability in her that he hadn't before. The haze in her eyes, the way she was almost floating in her own thoughts, disconnected from the world around her. He could see the haze in her expression, the slight confusion, the softness in her gaze that wasn’t entirely hers. She wasn’t fully present. She wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, not the way he needed her to be.

His hand hovered at her waist, but he didn’t pull her closer now. He couldn’t. He was aware- too aware of what this moment would mean if he crossed that line without her consciousness.

He wasn’t that guy. He never would be.

Her fingers brushed his chest again, but this time, he didn’t respond the way he normally would. His eyes took in the way she looked up at him, her breath still shallow, the lightness in her smile tugging at his heart.

He exhaled, fighting the urge to pull her in, his heart beating louder with every passing second. She deserved more than this, she deserved clarity, not confusion. He could already see the trust in her eyes, an unspoken invitation in the way she looked at him, but it wasn’t real- not in the way it should be.

“Y/N,”

Rafe said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of concern. He reached up, his hand brushing her hair away from her face as his thumb gently stroked her cheek.

“Don’t think this is a good time princess” His words were soft, but they held a weight. She blinked slowly, her expression still dreamy, and for a moment, Rafe couldn’t tell if she’d even heard him. But her lips parted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to focus.

“Why not Rafey,” she mumbled, words slower than usual, the lack of clarity in her voice made his chest at her vulnerability.

So fucking stubborn

He could feel the tension building again, the desperate longing inside him clawing at his chest. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into him and lose himself in her. But something inside him, a voice that was louder than his impulses, told him to stop. He was starting to realise why she only smoked when he was around, he didn’t want to imaginer like this, so innocent and trusting at a party by herself, surrounded by people she didn’t know.

The thought made him nauseous.

He leaned back, his gaze holding hers, steady, but with an edge of hesitation.

“Not like this,” he said softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. She tilted her head in confusion, her lips pursing as if trying to understand, but Rafe shook his head slightly. He could wait. He could wait until she was fully aware, he wouldn’t take advantage of her- he couldn’t- he'd never even think of it.

“Y/N, look at me,”

he whispered, reaching out gently to hold her face, his thumb grazing her soft skin. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m not doing this with you like this.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves and the distant laughter of the others in the background, and then, finally, she nodded, her expression soft, a slight pout tugging at her lips. She was still out of it, but she understood the sincerity in his voice, and it made something flutter in his chest.

With a sigh, Rafe pulled back just slightly, releasing his hold on her but keeping his gaze on her face, his heart still hammering in his chest. She didn’t say anything more instead she leaned into him ever so slightly, head resting on his shoulder, just enough to let him know she wasn’t pulling away, but she was still there, still trusting him.

And that was all he needed.

The boy took in a slow breath, then dropped his hand back to his side. He could feel the pull, the heat, the temptation to kiss her, but he resisted, allowing the silence to settle between them.

She's won't remember any of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Rafe pulled outside the girls house, the soft hum of the engine and Y/n’s occasional delayed mumble of the song lyrics playing were the only sound between them, the night air seemed thicker now, charged with something unspoken. The glow of the streetlights flickered over the girl's face, catching the soft curve of her jaw, the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks. He had barely said a word to her since the conversation on the beach, unsure of what to say, his mind still buzzing from the way things had shifted and he knew she hadn't noticed, too preoccupied in her own little world.

He's got a nice nose

You know what they say about big noses-

Girl shut the fuck up

The car slowed to a stop in front of her house, but neither of them moved immediately. He kept his hands firmly on the wheel, trying to calm the sudden pressure that had started to coil in his chest. Every little shift of her body, every soft breath she took, seemed emphasise in the silence between them. Y/N didn’t seem in any hurry to get out, her fingers fiddling with the slit of her dress as she looked out the window, exposing her thigh to the air of the car. She leaned just a little closer,

“Thanks for bringing me back,”

she said softly, her voice sweet and laced with a quiet giggle that clung to the walls of the car. He nodded, his throat tight, trying to keep his composure.

“Of course. You okay?”

He asked, though he noticed the way her fingers were now tracing the fabric of his seat, the way her gaze lingered on him a little too long. She turned to face him, her lips pulling into a playful, almost mischievous smile.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, her voice insistent, as if she were trying to convince herself. She leaned toward him just slightly, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she shifted closer. Rafe felt the heat rising in his body, a surge of something he was desperately trying to control. She was still so touchy, so close. Her hand, which had been absentmindedly resting on her lap, now slid to his arm, her fingers lightly brushing his shirt, making his pulse hitch.

The light touch sent a spark through him, one that made him clench his jaw. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t fully in control of her actions, but it didn’t make it any easier. His muscles tensed as her fingers lingered for just a second too long on his forearm before slowly tracing up his sleeve. The soft caress sent an undeniable shiver through him, one that made it harder to concentrate.

He swallowed hard, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as her fingers trailed up to his shoulder, her palm resting against the side of his neck. It was too much—too much of her, too much softness in her touch, too much of the way she was looking at him like she wanted more. Her gaze, still slightly unfocused, held a curiosity, a gentleness that was intoxicating. She pushed herself slightly closer to him over the centre console, her dress dragging down slightly, the v-neck exposing her skin to him, the low cut revealing more of her chest than he was expecting.

"Rafe..." Her voice was barely a whisper now, like she was testing his name on her lips, her fingers now slowly sliding over the side of his neck, her touch sending goosebumps across his skin. His jaw locked, his teeth grinding together as he fought the growing desire inside him.

“Y/N, stop,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice low and strained, but firm. He turned his head toward her, his gaze intense, trying to pull her back into reality.

“Need to go home yeah? You’re not yourself right now.”

Don't wanna go home want you

She didn’t seem to hear him- or maybe she didn’t care, he couldn't tell. Her hand slid around to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the nape of his hair, it almost made his resolve crumble. He forced himself to meet her gaze, but his heart was hammering in his chest, and he was so aware of the way her body was leaning closer, the heat radiating off her.

She smiled up at him, leaning in, her lips brushing against his neck in a soft, teasing kiss. “You’re so serious all the time,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin.

“Why can’t you just relax?”

His whole body stiffened. His grip on the wheel tightened so much his knuckles went white. He tried to focus on anything but the way her lips lingered near his neck, the way her breath caressed his skin, how close she was.

“Y/N, you need to get out of the car,” he said, his voice strained, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

“Go inside, I’m not going to do this with you, not when you’re not yourself.”

She pouted, her gaze flickering down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “You’re no fun...” she said with a playful giggle.

Rafe let out a long, slow breath, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings,

“C’mon princess” he said quietly, his tone more affectionate, yet still firm.

“Go inside for me, yeah? You’re not thinking clearly.”

She didn’t resist.

After a long beat, she finally pulled her hand away, glossy eyes looking at him as she pushed open the door. Before she stepped out, she turned back to look at him one last time, her smile still lingering but faint; she pushed herself back into the car and placed a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“Goodnight, Rafey.”

She whispered, her voice wavering and slightly off-balance. She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave before closing the door behind her, and Rafe watched as she staggered up to her front door, her steps a little less steady than usual. She fiddled with the doorhandle, and he debated whether he should get out and help her open the door. Somehow she managed to crack the door open, she turned back to him blowing him a kiss before closing the door behind her.

Once she was inside, Rafe sat there for a moment, his jaw still clenched, trying to shake the weight of everything that had just happened. Her touch had been too much and as much as he had tried to keep his distance, it didn’t matter because his body was betraying him.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, feeling the tightness of his slacks against him, and he swore under his breath. The pressure between his legs was undeniable, a constant reminder of how wrong it all was.

She's high.

AND she's not herself.

He dragged his hand through his hair again, frustration gnawing at him. He had to leave. But the thoughts came anyway- the image of her lips, the soft weight of her body against his, the way her smile made his chest tighten. He could feel the pressure building again, the ache in his body, and for a split second, he imagined what it would be like to pull her back into the car, to kiss her until she forgot everything except him. To hear her moan his name, to feel her hands on him the way they were on his neck...

Rafe’s breath hitched.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy's hands gripped the wheel tighter as he rolled into the driveway of Tannyhill, the tires crunching over the gravel as he parked the car in front of the empty house. The quiet of the night surrounded him, only the distant hum of a few streetlights and the rustling of leaves in the breeze breaking the stillness.

He sat in his car for a moment, head resting against the steering wheel eyes closed and jaw clenched tight as he tried to push away the memory and the feeling of her touch. He felt guilty, but he also couldn't shake the feeling of wanting more. His body was still trembling as he remembered the way she'd touched him, the way she'd looked up at him with hazy, glazed eyes. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, slacks straining against him.

A glimpse of pink catches the corner of his eye, Rafe’s gaze lingered on the pink jumper in the backseat, the soft fabric wrinkled from weeks of being tossed around in the car, yet it still carried the faint scent of her. His heart thudded in his chest, and he couldn’t help the surge of desire that bloomed inside him. The memory of her wearing it, her figure draped in the soft jumper, rushed back with vivid clarity.

He reached over slowly, almost as if he was afraid it would disappear if he moved too quickly. His fingers brushed against the fabric, and the sensation sent a small shiver down his spine. Grabbing the jumper, he lifted it from the backseat, holding it in his hands like it was something precious. The soft material felt almost too delicate against his skin, his breath caught in his throat as his mind wandered. He could almost feel her body against his again, the way her soft hands had pressed into him.

He let out a shaky breath, the air in the car feeling warmer than it had moments ago. His fingers traced the edge of the sleeve, the softness reminding him of the girl. Rafe’s grip on the jumper tightened, and his chest rose with a slow, deep breath as he brought the soft fabric up to his face. The scent of her hit him again- intoxicating and something uniquely Y/n that made his stomach flip. His eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled, the softness of the material pressing against his nose, his lips. The familiar scent settled deep inside him, and he couldn’t stop the grunt that slipped out, low and unguarded, his head tilted back against the seat.

His mind swirled with visions of her, of what could have happened, of how easily he could have pulled her back into the car; the heat between them had been undeniable- much too strong to ignore.

He could feel the burn in his chest, the low, insistent throb heavy between his legs.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he pulled the jumper closer to his face again, breathing her in deeply, letting her scent consume him. His hand drifted down his body, fingers fiddling with his belt as he loosened it, the rattling of the metal buckle filling the car.

He lifted his hips up slightly, shaking hand slipping his trousers down past his hips just enough. His breath was harsh and ragged, his body burning, the feeling of her scent surrounding him; the memory of her touch still fresh in his mind, making him twitch with want, he groaned aloud as he wrapped the jumper around his hand, needing to feel the softness against him.

The jumper was wrapped around his hand in a tight, desperate grip as he moved it down to his crotch, palming himself slowly through the fabric, the friction making his breath come out in quick, uneven huffs.

He let out a low, moan his voice thick with need, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he really wanted.

In a hurried movement, he slid his hand inside his briefs, grasping his length, and began to stroke himself, eyes closed as he let out a guttural groan, his head falling back against the seat as his body responded to the touch of his hand and the soft material wrapped around it.

He imagined the girl in the passenger seat, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her lips parted in anticipation as she was moments before he’d told her to leave.

He swallowed harshly as he circled the tip of his throbbing cock, beads of pre-cum coating his thumb.

His mind flickered back to the golf course weeks ago, the girl on her knees in front of him, innocent doe eyes looking up. He pictured the night going differently, his sweet best-friend leaning over, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling and teasing his tip, cheeks hollowing around him. He let out a heavy breath at the image of the girl in his mind, his hand gripping himself tighter. He imagined his hands threading through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail as her eyes fluttered shut, pushing his hips towards her, the girls nails dragging down his thighs as she gagged around him. Her whimpers and whines echoing in his mind, his hand, still holding the jumper trembled slightly as he pressed it harder against his face, as he thrusted himself up into his fist at the smell of her. Rafe's strokes grew faster, his breath coming out in short gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand frantically as he envisioned the girl pulling away from him, eyes teary and glazed over like they were tonight, looking up to him her mouth open for him awaiting, lips reddened and wet with her spit.

“Fuck y/n” he groaned shakily as the slick sounds filling the car came to a stop, warm ropes of cum landing over the soft pink material wrapped around his hand.

Rafe's heavy breaths filled the car, windows now fogged up. The boy sat there motionless looking down at the mess in his lap, mind reeling.

What the fu-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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