#and that it's really nice to know other people out there have it

[mushroom-enby]

HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS 101!!

You know how it's easier to make friends when you work somewhere or go to school?? Well it's for a reason, and that reason is YOU ALWAYS SEE EACH OTHER

You work remotely/are unemployed? Go to a cafe every day. You don't even have to buy coffee if you can't/don't want to afford it. But by going there every day and working, studying etc people will start noticing you as a 'regular', and eventually you might become friends with the staff and other regulars! Just say hi and be nice!

You don't like coffee? Go to the gym the same days every week!! That's even easier! "Hey, can you help me out? I have no idea of my form is right" AND BOOM! Gym friends. Soon enough you'll be talking about nonsense and working out together.

You don't like the gym? Understandable, I don't either, not really my thing. Try yoga classes! Or swimming lessons! Creative writing lessons!

You can't afford any of those and there are no free shit in your city? Volunteer somewhere!! A homeless shelter, an animal shelter, in church (if you're into that kinda thing), getting in some queer group in your town (if you're queer, don't make it weird ok)

Get in a club! D&D groups, videogames, reading (be warned, there will most likely be smut), whatever you can think of!

Making friends is easier when you share a space and routine with them, when you have something in common. That's why it's easier in school, college or work.

You just be nice, even if you're shy, try to speak. Have an inviting body language (an 'open' posture, with your shoulders back and arms on your waist or down, not being on your phone the whole time, etc). Tell a joke or two. Small talk, eventually ask something a bit more meaningful, and be yourself!

If it doesn't work out, you can try again somewhere else, or with someone else. People's personalities sometimes just don't match, and if you feel like this person isn't really someone you wanna hang out with, you can just stop. If they say or do something weird (like a racist, trans/homophobic or xenophobic comment, or some sexist shit) don't be shy to question it- tell them why you think that's not cool. Don't allow them that behavior, and don't get dragged into it, because you don't want to be friends with someone like that.

Good luck making friends and socializing!!

Also re: the fact it’s normal to have a period of time where you have no friends: sometimes this means no “real” friends aka still have people you know from work, school, family, neighbors, acquaintances, etc etc you interact with but are not close with and couldn’t go to for anything on any deeper level. But sometimes it actually does mean no friends. No social interaction, nobody to call, no other option, don’t talk to anyone for days, don’t know who would find out if you died. The thing is there really is coming back from both of those situations ofc it takes a good deal of work and can feel like pulling teeth to put yourself out there but god it pays off. You can always start over from scratch, and it’s true most people are just as lonely as you are

[alexlwrites]

𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where you hate your boyfriend's best friend. Lucky for you, your boyfriend's other best friend's girlfriend hates her too.

OR

Hoseok's girlfriend will not let you be disrespected.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Angst, Short.

✿ 𝐀/𝐍: this is Aera, btw. We all need one in our lives.

Anyway, very short and silly one shot. Maybe one day I'll write YN or JK's POV.

°•. ✿ .•°

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi <3)

°•. ✿ .•°

Aera had, as a personal rule, the habit of not meddling in other people’s businesses. Her own were already too much of a burden and she was not put on this earth to overwork herself with someone else’s problems. They could it either solve it on their own or fuck off, as far as Aera was concerned.

But everything had a limit and you, with your kind ways and pretty smiles that had sneaked your way into Aera’s very tight circle of friends, were just too nice for her to just watch you suffer. After all, she was a girl’s girl through and through.

Except when it came to Eunjae. That bitch could choke and no amount of girlhood talk would change Aera’s mind.

It all exploded on a cold Friday when the whole gang got together to meet at a bar, squeezing into a booth. There was Aera, her boyfriend Hoseok, his friends Jin and Yoongi on one side, sharing a plate of fries. On the other side, Namjoon, you, your boyfriend Jungkook and Aera’s number one public enemy, Eunjae.

Eunjae had been a childhood friend to the boys, knowing them for many years as they held on to her like a security blanket. And that would of course not bother Aera at all, if Eunjae had any sort of common sense or boundaries. She seemed to think there would never be another girl in the group and she would forever remain their collective girlfriend, leaving no room for anyone else.

But Aera, fearsome and outspoken, had cut that evil from the root at the very beginning, making clear to Hoseok that she would not allow herself to be antagonized. Either he spoke up or she would walk out. Not buts. 

Unfortunately, you were not as assertive as her. And even worse, Jungkook seemed to be Aera’s favorite target.

You and Jungkook had been dating for quite a few months and it was clear to anyone with eyes that you did really like each other: you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the skies and he brought you up in any possible conversation. 

And so, of course, Eunjae hated you. But men were way too simplistic to pick up on her veiled and nuanced aggression, so even though Aera could see clear as day how much Eunjae bothered you, Jungkook never seemed to notice a thing.

It was all in the way Eunjae seemed to drape over him anytime he showed up, throwing herself in a way that made him drop your hand in order not to lose balance. It was how she never allowed you to call him Kookie, as that was “my nickname for you, is it not, Kookie? That’s our thing!”. And, as if that wasn’t enough to trigger even the chilliest of girlfriends, it was the way that every time you had a date schedule, Eunjae suddenly had an emergency that only Jungkook could solve.

And he would go, leaving behind a teary eyed you and an awkward shuffling Aera that did not know how to console you without telling you that you should dump Jungkook’s ass and punch Eunjae on the tits.

So Aera said nothing. And she would stay like that, if that night Eunjae hadn’t pushed her luck a bit too far.

“Oh my God, Kookie!” she exclaimed in the over strident voice she always seemed to have, making your eyes roll in annoyance at the nickname “You’re never gonna guess what I just got!”

Aera exchanged a sympathetic look with you over the table.

“What?”

“Tickets to tomorrow’s baseball game! For all of us! Isn’t that cool?”

The boys whooped in celebration, crowding around Eunjae to check the tickets she had on her hand. But Aera was the one that saw you freeze and look at your boyfriend with the saddest eyes in the world.

He, of course, was too busy staring at the stupid piece of paper. But Aera could see the satisfaction in Eunjae’s eyes, and so she asked “How many tickets did you get?”

“Only six, sorry!”

Aera huffed “Yeah, what a bummer.”

But you were still focused on your boyfriend. “Baby” you called pitifully “but we had plans tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you guys can reschedule, right, Kookie?” Eunjae said and Aera never before in her life wanted to twist someone’s neck so hard.

Ok, there was that time that dude cut the line at Five Guys and she was really hungry. But this was a close second.

“Yeah, baby.” Your dumb boyfriend agreed and if heartbreak was audible the room would’ve exploded in sound at that moment if your expression was anything to go by “You can hang with Aera tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay” you agreed, eyes teary as you hid under a curtain of hair. “Actually, it’s getting late. I think I’m gonna go. I’ll see you all later” and before anyone could say anything, you picked up your purse and left.

And now Aera was furious, as no one seemed to notice nor know why you were so upset and you were way too nice of a girl to be disrespected like that and still manage to not make a scene. “What a saint” she mumbled.

Eunjae scoffed. And that was Aera’s breaking point.

“Yup, okay, I’m done” she raised her hands and stood up from the booth. 

“Baby?” Hoseok called, surprised by her sudden anger. 

(He shouldn’t be. Aera was always at least 5% pissed off, like the Hulk.)

“I really tried not to say anything out of respect for your truly dysfunctional friendship, but I had enough. You” she pointed at her boyfriend “if you pull half of this shit on me, just know I’m dumping your sorry ass and putting a curse on you. Like, your penis will actually fall off. You” she turned to Eunjae, who seemed only mildly bothered at her explosion and that pissed Aera even more “are the evilest bitch on earth to pull this stunt on a girl as cool as Y/N and I hope you know you’re lucky she’s so nice, cause if that was me you would’ve been bald in a ditch right now. And finally you” she at least turned to Jungkook, who seemed stupidly shocked at her outburst “that girl will dump you anytime now and although I truly love you like a brother, she deserves better than what you give her. Oof, that feels great to get out of my chest.”

The table was silent for a while before Eunjae screeched “Are you just going to let her talk to me like that?!”.

Hm, yes they were. No one wanted to lose their penis and Aera was fucking scary.

“W-what do you mean Y/N is going to break up with me?” Jungkookie asked, looking truly upset at the news.

“C'mon dude. You’re lucky you’re handsome cause clearly your head is just a hat rack if you can’t figure that out.” Aera looked around the circle of flabbergasted men “Really? No one? Ok, let me explain in a way y’all dumb dumbs can understand: Jungkook, how many times in the last few weeks did you and Y/N hang out just the two of you? Like a date?”

“Two times, maybe?”

“And how many times did you hang out with the wicked witch of the west right here?”

Jungkook winced and did not answer.

“It’s not his fault that I’m more fun to hang with!” Eunjae exclaimed.

“Ay, don’t say that” Jungkook tried to defend you but by then it was too late.

“And how many times were you hanging out with Y/N and this soon to be bald bitch called you and asked to see you?”

No answer.

“And did you go?”

Silence. Guilty silence.

“Yup. That’s what I thought. And finally, do you know what day tomorrow is?”

Jungkook frowned “Tomorrow? We had a date planned, I guess.”

“You guess, huh?” Aera let out a strangled laugh that made Namjoon slide under the table a bit “Tomorrow was your girlfriend’s birthday, dumbass. And you know how I know that? Cause I heard Eunjae ask her in the girl’s bathroom about her plans before she suddenly appeared with these magical tickets. So!” Aera clapped as Jungkook’s mouth opened in horror and other boys cast disappointed looks at Eunjae “I hope you all enjoy the game and I do hope the ball hits you bitch straight on the head and you get amnesia and forget what a terrible person you are. And finally I do hope Y/N finds herself some back bone and breaks up with you tomorrow because what a birthday gift would it be to be free of this clusterfuck. Anyway, good luck to you all.”

And with that, Aera left, going after you cause she would be damned if she left you alone. After all, she was a girl’s girl.

[cutiefulism]

i’m a dog, i’m a mutt ▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼ caleb , lads

✦ ~ 1.1k wc, german shepard!caleb x reader, fluff, caleb n reader both being a little crazy abt each other, this wasnt meant to be so long (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) but possible smutty pt2?????

you don't even get one shoe on your foot before you hear the familiar, false lightness of caleb’s voice from behind you, irritation brewing just below the surface.

“where ya goin’?”

a sigh blows past your lips. you've been trying to find a cure for caleb’s, err. . problem for the past three days, and each time you attempt to leave the house, he's there to reel you back in with a pout and a grumble, big, dark ears flat against his skull.

sometimes, when you're really stubborn, he just drags you towards him with his evol, locking you in his big arms where you are meant to be and shoving his face against yours.

his hearing has gotten aggravatingly good.

you slowly turn to face him, giving yourself a few extra seconds to smooth the guilty wince from your face. “caleb, you know you can't leave the house like this. won't it be awkward to explain to your subordinates that you now have fluffy ears and a fluffier tail?”

the strict, cold colonel of the farspace fleet turned adorable, helpless puppy. what a headline.

his head cocks to the side. “they won't say anything.”

they know better than to say anything. just because he's soft with you doesn't mean that same kindness extends to everyone else. you've witnessed it first hand, and, honestly?

it's a little hot.

maybe you're just a freak, but it's nice to have that warm, gentle bit of caleb reserved just for you. no one else gets to taint it. not that you'd let that happen, anyway.

“that's. .” you bite your lip. “that's true, but that's not the entire point. this,” you gesture to him with a toss of your hand, and his brows furrow, “whatever it is that's happened to you, clearly has other side effects. you literally barked the other day.”

gotcha.

that makes caleb stiffen, his eyes locked on you as heat tints his cheeks pink, and you can't help a cheeky grin. his bark was pretty cute — a deep, firm, sharp noise that was directed to the poor guy who delivered y'all's pizza.

“that was an accident,” he says with a cough. “a-and only a one time thing.”

you kiss your teeth, still grinning, and he doesn't even let those words that he just knows will be teasing get out. “i’m serious! you see i haven't barked or growled since, right?”

he's had to actively resist the urge to, but you don't need to know that.

in a few short strides, he crosses the small distance between you, his arms looping around your waist and tugging you to his chest, big tail happily swishing behind him. it might be a bit harder for him to hide his emotions thanks to this transformation, but it's not impossible.

nothing is impossible.

well, besides him not loving you. that's very much so impossible.

“c'moooon,” he whines, and you damn your stupidly weak resolve right now. he shouldn't look so. . cute.

big, violet eyes peer down at you, plush mauve lips pulled down into a gentle pout, and his dark brows are practically knitted together.

to be quite frank, caleb looks pathetic.

but both he and you know that you like pathetic.

“i’ll be fine. you can trust me. always.”

you hum, and that mischievous grin melts into something more contemplative. “‘s not that i don't trust you, it's just. .”

“just what?” a pause, and then that wet puppy look is gone from his face, his signature smirk taking its place. “oh. ohhhhh. you don't want anyone else to see me like this. that's what this is about.”

. . .

“what?” your jaw goes slack, something like embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck, and caleb can just see the idea worming its way into your vulnerable little mind and taking root.

perfect.

you shake your head, and he only chuckles. “that's not true! i just don't want people bothering you in public! wouldn't you be annoyed if people kept coming up to you, asking to stroke your tail or scritch your ears?”

you're so obvious, it's both infuriating and adorable.

infuriating because — despite him informing you numerous times that he knows you better than anyone, even better than you know yourself — you still continue to hide things from him.

adorable because you look so pretty and lively all fired up, like a firecracker in the dead of a summer night.

“no, no. you're the only one who would be annoyed,” he says, and his hand travels up to gently pinch your cheek. “what have i told you about lyin’, pipsqueak?”

you groan and shove his hand away, but the burning in your face tells him all he needs to know. “i’m not lying!”

caleb’s hand simply moves to your thighs, and then he's hoisting you up with a grunt, thick arm situated underneath your ass. “you sure? your voice is gettin’ all squeaky. if i remember correctly, that's a definite sign you're lying.”

the smell of your perfume graces his nose, and he can't help but let out a tiny, content sigh. you smell so good — mostly your perfume, probably some gourmand scent, with just a hint of his own musk and soap. he'd prefer you smell a lot more like him, but that'll come in due time.

he's waited for years to have you — it won't hurt for him to wait some more.

your arms, like they have a mind of their own, hook around caleb’s neck, despite the almost petulant frown on your face. “i’m not a little kid anymore. and even if i was lying, which i’m not, that wouldn't be a tell!”

he snorts. “i think you're overestimating how much you've changed. you still act like the little girl who'd come crying to her gege because someone knocked over your sandcastle.”

your gaze narrows into sharp daggers. “and you still act like some flirtatious know-it-all!”

at that, caleb shifts you closer, rubbing his face into your neck with a soft smile. a flirtatious know-it-all, huh?

oddly enough, he's never flirted with anyone but you.

his lips press a soft, almost reverent kiss on your pulse. “for you to be so smart, you sure can be dense, can't ya?” he mutters, and his voice is swallowed up by your skin.

caleb would never betray you like that. no, you're all he wants, all he needs. no other girl will fill that crevice in his heart, something perfectly carved in the shape of you.

he pulls his face back, and his soft eyes meet your angry ones. cute. “i’ll be your flirtatious know-it-all for the evening, how ‘bout that?” and when you only continue to glare at him, he sweetens the deal.

“i’ll even let you touch my ears.” as if on cue, they twitch, looking fluffier and softer than ever.

. . hm. that antidote can wait a little longer, can't it?

sweats.

[plutoslastwords]

can we get more babynorris!reader pleaseee i loved those they're soo cutee

stream sniper

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: lando makes a surprise return to streaming, baby norris makes a surprise appearance on said stream

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.1k

a/n: this is short and terrible, i'm sorry, but i wanted to get something out before work starts to pile up on monday! tysm for requesting!!!! 🤍

~~~

“Goodnight my darling… sleep well baby.” Lando placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as he tucked you into bed and your eyes fought to stay open. “Daddy’ll come wake you up in the morning okay? There we go, good girl.” He smiled as you snuggled up with your favourite bunny toy and drifted off to sleep. 

He quietly creeped out of your bedroom, and into his office where he had a message from Max (Fewtrell):

Max

you wanna join my stream?

Read the message, which Lando pondered on for a minute, before reaching a different conclusion.

You

only if you join mine

After a much too long hiatus, Lando was ready to return to his streaming days and with you sound asleep in bed, there was no better time than the present.

He struggles with setting up the stream, having to be retaught by Max, god, it’s really been way too long..

However, soon enough he was back in the familiar rhythm, gaming, cracking jokes with his friends and generally entertaining his stream. He’d missed streaming, between being a dad, F1 driver and all of his other duties he had not had much time to just enjoy some gaming with his friends with the rest of the world. 

Him and his friends were just messing around for about 20 minutes when, silently, the door to his office slowly creaked open, which went unnoticed by him, but definitely not his stream.

You toddle in, holding your rabbit toy with messy bed hair and bunny pyjamas. 

“Daddy..” you try calling, you couldn’t fall asleep and you needed him to give you another cuddle and tuck you in better. However, your call falls on deaf ears, Lando too engrossed in his game with his friends.

The chat is going insane, you’re very rarely shown to the public, Lando wanted to keep your life relatively normal, you’re only 3 after all, so therefore whenever his fans get a glimpse of you, chaos ensues. 

Lando’s mods are desperately trying to get his attention that his daughter was in the background, knowing he’s anxious about how much of you should be shown to the public, however his game is much more interesting than any discord message from his team. 

You pout when he ignores you yet again, the chat going crazy over your adorable scrunched up face. You know your daddy doesn’t really like it when you interrupt him when he’s working, but you chose to forget that, waddling over to where he sits and tugging on his shirt.

Lando jumps in surprise, having completely missed the fact that you had wandered into his office, and now were being shown in front of 15 thousand people. He quickly mutes his mic and turns his camera off, pulling you into his lap.

“Babygirl, why’re you here, huh? I thought you were meant to be in bed? Daddy’s working sweet thing…” he says softly.

“Couldn’t sleep daddy… wanna be with you…” He can hear his friends asking what’s wrong through his headset, he doesn’t want to upset you, but he also doesn’t want to stop the game, he very rarely gets chances like this to spend with his friends.

He pauses for a moment, going through his options, before eventually relenting. “Why don’t you stay here whilst daddy plays angel? Sit on my lap and you can fall asleep if you get tired, okay?” He coos at you.

In response, you nod, that sounds nice, getting to spend time with your daddy, especially when it’s past your bedtime. He smiles at you, “good girl, sweetheart..”

He turns his mic and camera back on, your little form now on view to the stream.

“We gotta new guest, chat, someone didn’t wanna fall asleep hm? Say hi to chat, my love” He strokes your hair gently.

“Hi chat…” You say shyly, waving, but you’re not really sure at who, there is no one there?

The chat immediately fills up with love for you, all of Lando’s fans adore you, who doesn’t? Lando smiles as he reads the messages of greeting, he loves how much everyone loves you, how much joy you bring to people, especially him.

Lando continues to play his game whilst you sit quietly, drifting off into a sleepy state from time to time. Occasionally you point out something that you could see on his screen, to which he would respond with a beaming grin and a ‘yeah baby, that’s right, clever clever girl!’, to which his chat would go even more insane.

Overtime, however, sitting watching your daddy’s strange game becomes a bit too much for you, and you are struggling to fight your heavy eyes. Before you know it, you are sound asleep on your daddy’s lap, head buried into his chest.

Noticing this, Lando smiles, “Gotta be quiet now, chat, the princess has gone to sleep..” he whispers, gently rubbing your back in order to make sure you are having as peaceful a sleep as possible. He grabs your bunny from where you had left it on his desk, placing it gently into your hold, knowing there’d be tears if you were to wake up without it. 

The stream continues on for about another hour, but everyone can tell that it is no longer Lando’s main focus, too busy watching your peaceful little body on his lap. He finishes up the steam swiftly, having bigger priorities to focus on.

“Hey, baby, daddy’s finished now, we gotta get you back to bed, yeah?” He whispers softly, as to not startle you, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up.

You just rub your head into his chest in response, still groggy and half asleep, but awake enough to get your thoughts across, “I stay with daddy.” You mumble firmly.

“No, baby, daddy’s gotta go to bed too, we gotta get up, okay?” He chuckles at your insistence.

“No!” You say, firmer this time, “I go to bed with daddy!”

Lando sighs, but there is no real malice, he would love nothing more than to have you with him, he sleeps the best he ever does when you’re right there, but he knows that it’s a bad habit to continually let you sleep in his bed.

He quickly shuts those thoughts down when he looks into your pleading, big, sweet, sleepy eyes, and all resolve cracks.

“Oh, of course, my darling, anytime, you know that..” He coos, standing up with you in his arms and heading towards his bedroom. “Daddy loves you more than anything, little monkey…”

~~~

a/n: sorry this isn't very good :( thank you sm for all of the love 😁 and pls keep on requesting anything about baby norris or anything else you'd like to see!

[thepenultimateword]

This is so sweet and helpful I have to reblog as well. I have anxiety, so I usually try to google as much as I can to figure out what it’s going to be like when I go somewhere new and sometimes the little details of how things work that people think don’t matter, matter a lot to me. I think sometimes people get a tad exasperated with me over it, so it’s really nice to know other people feel the same way and that there are people who are nice to enough to explain things.

the problem with autism is sometimes you want to do something (brave) but you need someone to gently walk you through each step so you know what will happen. and people don’t like doing that

[finelinevogue]

kisses will make it better

summary - you think you’ve made aaron upset so decide not to tell him when you’ve been in a car accident

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

word count - 3k

Today was shit.

Like really terrible.

It was one of those days where nothing had gone right and you felt like the universe was caving in on you. From missing a meeting due to traffic to getting harassed by your boss again, there was nothing that had technically gone right.

Which is why you were calling Aaron on your drive home, because you knew he would make it better.

It was dangerous to rely on someone to make you feel better, but he was your person and there was no one you would rather speak to than him.

“Hotchner.”

You smiled as he always answered the phone the same way.

He said that people wasted time by looking at the caller ID rather than just answering the phone, so you were used to him never answering the phone any other way.

“Hi love.”

“Y/N?” He questioned and you had to chuckle.

“Who else would be calling you ‘love’?” You laughed.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Um,” You looked at the clock on your car dashboard, “Nearly 11PM.”

“Yeah, it is. Look, you know we’ve got a really busy case right now?” He sounded pissed off and it made your heart drop.

“Yeah, I just thought…” You gulped to swallow back the oncoming threat of tears.

You didn’t want to cry over something so trivial as making your boyfriend upset, but when you had had a day as bad as yours anything was a possible trigger. Especially when Aaron was supposed to be the person to listen and comfort you.

“So I need to sleep and I need this phone line to be open for the police detectives.”

You could hear what he wasn’t saying; ‘Don’t call me’.

“Okay.”

“Alright, bye.” And he hung up.

It felt kind of pathetic to cry, but the tears kept falling.

You sniffled as you let out a few shaky breaths. Your eyes tried concentrating on the roads but your tears were sort of blinding your sight.

Your bad day had just gotten even worse.

The one person you knew would have cheered you up had to go and let you down. It wasn’t really his fault. He did have a really big case at the moment that was really stressful, so any sleep he could get was important, but it would’ve been nice to just speak to him for a few minutes.

You pulled down the sleeve of your jumper over your hand so you could wipe away the tears from your eyes.

You were thankful to be stopped at a red light.

Leaning over into your glove compartment you picked out a packet of tissues and took one out so you could blow your nose. Crying always led to a runny nose.

Maybe you’d done something really terrible and that was why the world was taking it out on you. But what had you done?

Except for this morning, you were always on time for work. You put up with endless sexist and gross comments from your boss. You worked really long nights and early mornings just to get the work done. Working as an assistant for a CEO wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded, but it paid the bills.

So why did you deserve to have such a shit day?

That’s what you were hoping Aaron could have answered.

Now you had only gone and upset him too.

The light turned green and you gripped onto the tissue as you took a hold of the steering wheel to turn left.

There were bright lights.

A car horn sounded.

Your feet slammed hard on the breaks.

There was an almighty crash.

And then it all went black.

<.><.><.>

“Miss. Miss, can you hear me?”

Your head felt so heavy and your chest felt tight.

Your eyes were slow to open, but when they finally did they felt so heavy - as if they were being weighed down.

Then you noticed the blue and red flashing lights against the pitch black of night and the paramedic that was leaning into your car to talk to you.

She had a stethoscope pressed against your chest and kept calling out to you for a response.

Slowly it was all coming back to you.

“Miss, answer if you can hear me.”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Okay good.” She said, “You were in a car accident. Do you remember what happened?”

Instead of responding you let the tears fall. Now you were coming back around and things were coming into focus you started to feel how much pain you were in. The seat belt must have stopped you from flying through the front window, but it had definitely bruised your entire chest and rib area in the process. That’s why it was probably painful to breathe.

The lady ducked back out of the car then.

“She’s pretty shaken.”

“We need to get her to a hospital. She could have internal bleeding.”

“Okay let’s cut her out and slowly transport her to an ambulance.”

“Have you asked who we should call?”

Their voices were all a blur as your eyes grew heavier again. The tears in your eyes were making your focus blurry again. It hurt to even cry.

Aaron was going to be so mad.

He was on such a busy case and the last thing he needed was to hear his girlfriend had been in a car accident - a bad one at that. You promised yourself then that you would tell the emergency response people that you didn’t have any emergency contacts. You didn’t need Aaron coming down here.

Not that you didn’t want him, because God you did, but more that you didn’t want to add any extra stress for him.

He had a hard enough job as it was without looking after you too.

He needed his rest, so you would do this alone.

<.><.><.>

Garcia was hurried as she approached Hotch’s office.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” Morgan asked from his desk as he watched his friend rush past.

“It’s Y/N.” She said and that’s when Morgan noticed the tears in her eyes.

Morgan shot up from his desk, as did Emily and Reid who had overheard the conversation. They didn’t ask questions, but did follow Garcia to Hotch’s office to listen in. It was clearly serious if Garcia was upset.

Garcia didn’t even knock before entering.

Hotch looked up from his desk, clearly unimpressed with the lack of knocking until he saw the looks on his team’s faces - especially Garcia’s.

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked, clicking the lid on his pen.

“Sir, you know how you asked me to set up that system where if any immediate family relatives of ours were admitted to hospital then they’d flag on my system so we’d know?” She asked.

Hotch stood up immediately.

“Is Jack okay?” His heart sank.

“Yes, Sir, he is.” Garcia looked distressed still, “But Y/N was in a major car accident last night. Drunk driver hit her side of the car. Caused her car to be sent spinning across the road where it was then hit at the rear by a lorry.”

Hotch went pale. He felt like his heart had stopped beating.

“When?” Hotch picked up his phone.

No new messages.

Why had no one contacted him about this?

He was your emergency contact. He should have been notified about this.

“Accident happened last night at about 11:15. I only got the notification when I came in this morning, Sir.”

“She’s been in the hospital since 11:15 last night?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Where is she now?”

“I had a look and… seems like she’s been in surgery for most of the night.”

Hotch had heard enough. He was ready to go now.

“Prentiss and Morgan. Go to the police station and find out what you can about the accident. I want that drunk driver ID’d.” Hotch ordered and they both left the room immediately.

“Call us if anything changes, Hotch.” Morgan added and Hotch nodded.

Reid…” Hotch said.

“I’m coming to the hospital with you.” Reid said for his boss.

“I need you here to work the case with Dave.”

“Hotch, this will probably be the only time I say this… but no. I’m coming with you and no doubt Rossi will too. Y/N is our friend too.” Reid argued back and Hotch didn’t have to say anything else for everyone to know that he was grateful for it.

Hotch needed the support and he knew you would need it to.

Screw this case.

Family was more important.

“Garcia…”

“I have my computers scanning security footage as we speak, Sir.”

“Good.”

“Go get our girl, Sir.” Garcia said and Hotch wasted no more time before exiting his office.

<.><.><.>

“You can’t blame yourself, Aaron.” Dave said as he drove the car to the hospital.

Aaron had wanted to drive but Dave had disagreed. It would’ve been dangerous for him to drive at a time like this.

“I spoke to her 15 minutes before the accident, Dave.” Aaron said, his composure slowly breaking.

Dave didn’t add anything to the conversation because he knew this was Aaron’s way of opening up as to why he felt so guilty.

“I told her not to call because my phone needed to be open for the police detectives to call me.”

“You were sleep deprived Aaron.” Dave argued.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“Maybe not, but it was the truth.”

Aaron kept his gaze on the road in front of them.

This car journey had felt like the longest twenty minutes of his life. Then he thought about how long you must have been alone in your crumpled car until someone arrived - how long that must have felt. How scary that must have been.

“I can’t lose her too.” Aaron said.

“You won’t. She’s got a strength in her that not everyone does.”

Aaron wanted to smile at that because he knew it was true, but it was hard to smile when he didn’t have a clue what state he was about to find you in.

<.><.><.>

Aaron stormed into the ER.

He did a quick sweep of the room and walked to the front desk. His hands gripped the front desk like it was the only thing keeping him standing up.

“Y/N L/N.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“I’m here to see Y/N L/N. She was brought in late last night from a car accident.” Hotch explained.

“Let me see.” The nurse typed away on her computer.

Rossi and Reid came up behind Aaron as they also waited to hear what the nurse had to say.

Aaron’s team was like a family to him, which meant they were also a family to you. The team had taken a liking to you ever since they had seen how much you had positively impacted Aaron’s life. They had never seen him smile so much as when he was around you. You brought out the best in him and the thought of losing you meant losing their boss too.

“Are you Aaron Hotchner, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“Yes.”

The nurse smiled sympathetically, “Miss L/N specifically told the doctors last night that we weren’t to contact you.”

“W-what?” Aaron furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’m her emergency contact.”

“We’re aware, Mr Hotchner.”

“S-so what?” Aaron tried to calm himself down because he knew it wasn’t the nurses fault, “That’s it?...”

“Miss L/N told us not to contact you, Mr Hotchner, so we didn’t. However, now you are here I don’t see any reason to hold you back any further. Just sign this ‘sign in’ sheet, please.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said honestly, feeling both a wave of relief and anxiety.

Why had you told them not to call him?

Well, he knew why…

It was starting to feel like this was his fault. Doubts creeping into his mind as to whether he was the right person for you. It felt like no matter what he did, no matter how happy he became, he would always be tested in some way.

<.><.><.>

Reid and Rossi had gone to buy you flowers, leaving Aaron in the room alone with you.

It had been a shock to see you at first.

He hadn’t really prepared himself for how you might look, but he definitely hadn’t expected this.

You were bandaged like a mummy. Your head had a thick bandage wrapped around. Your hands were littered with plasters and gauze from where tiny bits of shattered glass had cut into your skin. He couldn’t see your chest but he had no doubts that the entire area would be black and bruised.

It made Aaron feel sick seeing you like this.

<.><.><.>

When you finally came around you felt lighter than you had before.

There was no seat belt cutting into your skin and you could breathe a little easier too. The bed you were laid in was really comfortable and someone had clearly dimmed the lights in preparation for you waking up.

Your eyes opened to find yourself in a hospital room.

The small window to the right told you it was a new day because it had been nighttime the last time you had seen the sky. Whether it was the next day or a couple of days was difficult to guess.

You looked down from the window to the small table.

There were six bunches of flowers of all different varieties. All of them had cards underneath them and you were eager to know who they were from.

The one that had a mathematical joke on had to be from Reid. The one that was covered in pink glitter was definitely from Garcia. The one that was clearly handmade had to be the work of Jack Hotchner. That one made you smile.

Your eyes went to the other side of the room where there was a chair facing your bed.

It was empty.

You knew who had been there, though, thanks to the blazer and red tie draped over the back of it.

Just as you started thinking about Aaron, you could hear your two favourite boys approaching.

“But I want to give the giraffe to her now, dad.”

“Ssh, ssh. We have to be quiet now bud, okay? Y/Ns sleeping.”

“But she’s been sleeping all day.”

“That’s because she’s poorly.”

“Oh, okay.”

Aaron and Jack entered the room a moment later, leaving the door open.

“Y/N!” Jack screamed in excitement when he saw that you were awake. He shuffled himself out of his dad’s hold until he was on the floor and running over to your bedside.

Aaron was ready to tell Jack off until he saw that you were in fact awake.

“Jack, careful.” Aaron said when his son started climbing on the bed.

“He’s okay.” You assured them both.

“Dad said you’re poorly.” Jack said.

“I guess I am.” You smiled at him.

“Does this hurt?” He pointed to the bandage on your forehead.

“A little.”

“Dad can kiss it better.” Jack explained like he was the certified doctor working in this hospital. It made you and Aaron laugh, which was probably the best form of medicine anyways. “Won’t you dad?”

Instead of giving a yes or a no response, Aaron came over to you and placed a kiss on top of the bandage. You couldn’t feel his lips, but his presence was enough to make you a little bit emotional.

He smelt like home and his closeness was so warm that you felt comforted.

Aaron kept his face close to yours as pulled away. He looked at you and noticed your teary eyes. His thumb reached your cheek to softly pad over the skin there - no doubt to check that you were really here and okay.

“Hey Jack, why don’t we go and get a chocolate bar for Y/N, hmm?” You heard Rossi’s voice behind Aaron.

Neither you or Aaron made a move from each other to check. Rossi must have taken Jack from the room because it went so quiet then.

Aaron kept his gaze on your eyes and you could see the sadness lost within them.

You hated to see him so sad. It was your weakness.

“I’m…”

“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to be really upset.” Aaron said quickly to cut you off.

You nodded, crying a bit more now.

“Thank you for coming.” You said instead.

“Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’ll always be here.” Aaron moved to perch on the bed beside you, careful not to bump into any sore part of you.

“How did you even know?”

“Garcia.”

“Of course” You smiled. Aaron smiled because you smiled.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being an asshole last night.”

“Aaron, love, I can see that you’re beating yourself up over this but it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you were kind of an asshole. I did need you last night, but you definitely didn’t cause this and I know you know that.”

“You’re too lovely.” He responded.

“I just won’t have you blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Aaron nodded, “I’ll never not answer the phone again.”

“Okay.”

“But you have to promise to never block me as an emergency contact again. You hear me?” He said sternly.

“I do. It was kind of stupid of me.” You rolled your eyes thinking back now.

“Yeah it was.” Aaron gave you a small smirk, glad to hear you were okay enough to make a joke or two.

“I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Honey. I’m going to worry whether or not you are actually okay.”

“When I told the nurse to not call you she asked whether you were a crazy ex of mine.” You chuckled.

“You’re an absolute menace.”

“A menace that’s going to need lots of kisses to nurse me back to health.”

“Oh yeah?”

“That’s what Dr Jack said.” You shrugged.

“I better get started then.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes

Note: Saturday is fat tiddies day. I'm sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Wow, uh, I'd say that's a lot but it's really not much," you snort at Angelique as she comes out of your bathroom in a tiny string bikini. The leopard print is loud on the tiny triangles barely concealing her tits and a few other parts. 

"Not all of us are nuns like you," she retorts and sticks out her tongue. 

"I'm not a nun," you roll your eyes. 

You're not exactly modest yourself. You like your booty shorts and your cropped tops. And when you're lazy enough, you can be caught walking around in your purple track pants that read sex bomb across the ass. Not exactly classy, but fun. 

"Right, right, sure," she scoffs. 

"That's a low blow," you hiss. 

"Well, it's the truth. What's that now? Twenty-two and you're as pure as the blessed Mother Mary." 

"You're a fucking bitch," you sneer. 

"I am," she grins and shakes her tits. "But the guys love it." 

"You are so dumb," you scowl. 

"Try a smile, babe, and maybe someone will want to get it in." 

"Wow, did you just come over here to be awful?" 

"No, I came over to have fun. Loosen up, have some vodka." She insists. 

"Oh, no, I get it, you came to drink my booze," you accuse. 

"Look, it's hot enough out that I don't need you breathing down my neck. You invited me over," she snips. 

"Regretfully," you tweak your brow. 

"Boo, get you're fucking swimsuit on. I'm dying." She crosses her arms and drags her feet across the floor. She grabs her drink; some strawberry kiwi juice and too much vodka. 

"Why don't you go start?" You ask. "Better than pouting over your drinking problem." 

"Cuntttttt," she growls the last consonant. "Oh, you are the worst." 

"Isn't that why you love me?" You blow her a kiss and skip into your bedroom. 

You better keep up with her so you can put up with her. Vodka and orange juice should do the trick. A little less sickly sweet. You pull out your bikini. The sides of the bottoms are silver hoops and there's another between the bra cups. It's not exactly a nun's habit, is it? Especially with your tits. 

As you come out, you tuck in your left boob, the bigger one. Angelique swirls around her glass before emptying it. It's barely noon. 

"You know, you'll probably be drunk before you even get a tan," you chirp. 

"Probably," she shrugs and spins. "Come on, I'm bored." 

You huff and stomp around her. You pour yourself some vodka then find the carton of orange juice in your fridge. Hm, only enough for one drink. Nice of her to bring mixer for both of you. You dump it in with the vodka and head for the door. 

You grab your sunglasses before you step out into the sunlight. It's blazing hot. You slurp back the orange juice laced with alcohol and look around. You don't have much but it's yours. Somewhat. The sunburnt grass and cracked walkway. That's really the dream home. 

You put down your drink on the folding table under the mailbox and grab the kiddy pool leaning against the siding. Angelique makes no effort to help. You don't expect her too.

You drag it over onto the lawn and go around to unwind the hose. You unwind it and haul it back with you, tugging out the kinks until it reaches the pool. You'd do this all in the backyard but there's too many ant hills. 

You hold the hose and spray it into the plastic pool. As you do, you notice the peculiar dark shape in the next lot; a motorcycle. There's boxes on the other side of the duplex porch. Huh, they must've found a new tenant. 

Angelique pops open a bottle of tanning lotion and generously applies it over her arms and chest. She's shining as she smears it over her sandy skin. You'll put on some actual SPF when you get a minute. 

You wiggle the hose as you grow bored of filling the pool. Your mind wanders. She always has to say something. Always has to embarrass you. Never lets you forget every time you struck out. Well, you're just a little awkward. Maybe you should stop giving a fuck. Like her. 

"Oh, summer feels so good," she struts over with her drink and steps into the pool.

She sits and shivers so her pert tits jiggle. A top like that would do nothing but go missing under your chest. As she reclines and basks in the sunlight, you sigh. 

"Gee, Ang, thanks for all your help." 

"No problem, girly." She smirks and bends her leg, swaying it as you notice the neighbours across the street gawking. The two pot-bellied men who meet up to gripe on their lawn chair. Ew. 

You drop the hose in and go back to the porch. You dip inside for your bottle of sunscreen and come back out. You work at rubbing it in. You'll wait a bit before you get in so it doesn't wash off. It's no Hawaiian coast but that small dented pool is your only relief from the summer heat. 

Angelique swishes her second drink in the glass. You don't think she'd help with your back. She's in her own little bubble. As usual. 

You hear the snap of the door behind the wooden crisscross that blocks the other half of the porch. You glance over at the shadow that passes by. The unit's been empty almost since you got there. No tenant stayed longer than a month. 

The man tramps down his stairs and to the motorcycle leaning on its kickstand. He digs around in the saddle bags then turns. As he does, you catch his eye and give a half-smile. You wave weakly as he keeps going. Oh. 

You blink and look at Angelique. She's completely unaware; of your new neighbour or her audience. Two teen boys pass by in a not so subtle detour from their side of the street. You grimace but they're not looking at you. 

You turn the bottle in your hands. That man. He's kinda handsome, if he is a bit older. His long hair is a mix of fading brown and grey. His beard is seasoned with silver and his blue eyes shine boldly. And his jawline. That's to die for.  

Why had you been so hung up on boys your own age? 

The thought make you cringe. Are you serious? Angelique is right. You're too desperate. 

“Anj,” you approach the pool. 

“If you’re not offering to refill my drink, I don’t want to hear it.” Her eyes are closed behind the dark lenses. 

“Why are we friends again?” You mutter. 

She just giggles and finishes her drink. Nope. If she wants more, she can get it. You spin away and catch sight of that man again. 

Your new neighbour grabs a box from the stack on the front porch. You step up to the property line and smile. He doesn’t notice you as he disappears inside. 

There’s not much. The boxes are dusty, marked with the logos of the local storage facility, and his motorcycle is the only other thing there. He must’ve had the stuff dropped off. 

He emerges again and you wave, “uh, excuse me? Hi. Neighbour?” 

He pauses and his shoulders tense. He faces you slowly. His left arm is covered in ink. The patterns are intricate. His other arm is marked with scars. 

You introduce yourself as you sidle up the property line. He stares. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say. He still doesn’t answer. “What’s your name?” 

He looks up then back at you. “Bucky,” he grits out. His voice is sexy. 

“Oh, Bucky? That’s cute,” you say. “Say, neighbour, can I ask a favour? I’ll bring you a casserole for your trouble.” 

He considers you, “don’t gotta do that.” He crosses his arms. His biceps bulge and so do your eyes. He is built. 

“Oh, but I wouldn’t mind, it’s just...” you peek over your shoulder at Angelique as she lazes in the water. The sun beats down on you hotly and sweat beads on your nape. You look at Bucky. “I can’t reach my back.” You show the bottle of sunscreen and smile sheepishly. “Could I get a hand?” 

He grumbles and tilts his head. He looks you up and down. 

“I really don’t wanna burn. It’s so hot out.” You plead. 

Reluctantly he unfolds his arms and comes down the porch steps. He approaches and his chest decompresses visibly as he exhales. He extends his palm to you. You press the bottle into it. 

“Thanks!” You let go and shimmy then turn your back to him. 

There’s a moment before the lid clicks. He still doesn’t speak. You hear the lotion squirt and brace yourself. He smears it, barely touching you. As the lotion only slides over your skin, he sighs. He shifts and rubs it in more firmly. You push back against his strength, arching your back just slightly. 

Your heart races. His hesitance is disappointing. You know you’re not ugly. The reasons you got for your many rejections were that you didn’t want a one-night stand or you insisted on protection. It’s not too much to ask for. You really don’t think it’s your looks. 

“All done,” he says. 

The lid snaps shut loudly. 

You face him, your bikini top stretching dangerous as your chest bounces. His eyes flick down briefly. You nearly laugh. It’s a nice reassurance. 

“Thanks, Bucky,” you smile. 

He grumbles again and hands you back the bottle. Your cheeks are on fire. He’s so hot. He’s got that definition that makes you all fuzzy. You bet he knows exactly what to do. 

“So if you need anything, I’m just next door,” you point to your side of the duplex. “Oh, and I don’t mind noise. At all.” 

He nods. You wring your hands around the bottle. 

“But you know, if you do, I can be quiet,” you say, realising the double meaning only as your words hang between you. 

His brows rise and he dips his chin again. He turns and stalks away. He’s busy. You’re bothering him. You’ll try again when he’s not unpacking. 

Your eyes linger on his bike. That might be good place to start. It’s all harmless. You’re being a good neighbour. 

You go to your own side of the porch and put the bottle on the top step. You go to the pool and poke Angelique with your toe. “Move over.” 

She snorts but gives you room. You get in, arms around the edge, feet up on the other. She giggles. 

“What?” 

“He’s a bit... ancient,” she flips her sunglasses up and gives you a pointed look. 

“Whatever,” you shrug. 

“Even so... he’s in good shape,” she sits up slight, flattening her hands against the bottom of the pool. “Hmmm... maybe you might have a chance with the old man.” 

“You’re such a bitch,” you growl. 

“No, really. Do you think you do?” She asks. 

You furrow your brow and search her face, “why?” 

“Oh, it could be fun. How about a bet?” 

“A bet?” 

“Sure, you know, we’re going down to the beach. Got that old house by the shore and there’s only so many spots. You could have one if you can reel him in. No virgins on vacation,” she taunts. 

“Fuck, I hate you,” you sneer. 

“You love me and I know for a fact, you don’t have a chance of seeing the beach if you don’t come so...” 

You take a breath and peer over as your neighbour swings the door open once more. He’s entirely undistracted as he lifts another box. Your stomach swims with nerves. You can flirt; it’s that next thing you never got the hang over. But so far, he’s not even flirting. 

“Guaranteed?” You arch a brow in her direction. 

“Promise. It’ll give you something to talk about.” She cranes to watch, “you better hope his dick still works.” 

[scentofhydrangea]

reverting back to my frat president luigi and frat sweetheart reader thoughts today, oh god😅😅

warnings cheating (from both parties), SMUT, luigi is mouthy, AND AN ASSHOLE, reader is kinda mean, praise, luigi is the pussy eating king™️!, only going as far as fingering + head cuz he and reader are a little drunk…

a/n initially started to distract myself from today but then got carried away and kept going :) i was listening to draco by future when i got inspo for this! you aint neva eva gettin yo bitch back 😋 not 100% lore accurate obviously

with one week before spring break, students at upenn are on a collective bender — barhopping, each frat taking turns hosting parties, and professors sending angry emails to the dean of students. tonight, phi psi was in charge of hosting.

you and the other phi psi sweethearts, emilia and halley, were up and at the house by noon to start preparing! with some light conversation, boys started to make their way downstairs for afternoon classes or brunch. you three had already told them you weren’t cooking this week, so they can fend for themselves!

as the night approached, you had made around 200 jello shots and rounded up various types of cheap beer for the night. halley and emilia went to their own dorms to get ready; you stayed at the house to do your hair and makeup there.

brothers started making their way back to the house with takeout and more alcohol, some of the more helpful brothers bought decorations. one person you hadn’t seen at all that day was luigi — which didn’t shock you at all. he had gotten into a nasty fight with his girlfriend at sigma chi’s party last night, and you heard all about it from his best friend patrick earlier today.

“yeah, i mean he was trying to get her to go home without him and she knew what that meant. he got really mad at her and was telling her that she’s not his mom and that he’s a, and i quote, ‘grown ass man’ who can ‘do what he wants’. she was so fucking mad. she left him there anyway so i don’t really see why they argued,” he recounted with all the right gestures and mannerisms luigi would use.

he surely had to make some kind of appearance tonight, though, he was the president of the frat. the pledge master had already been bothering him today and by the time you came out of the bathroom from getting yourself ready he was the talk of the house.

“yo, where’s luigi?” brendan called out to you when you walked through the living room to sort through the bag of decorations that others had brought.

you shrugged and wrinkled your face up. “i know as much as you do,” you lie. you know he’s in his room.

“you guys are kinda,” he raises his right hand to show crossed fingers, “like, tight?”

you scoffed vehemently. “he wishes.”

three or four brothers set up the big standing speakers around corners of the house. people weren’t going to start showing up until around 10-11pm, so you have about an hour before girls trickle in.

your boyfriend was pissed that you were required to attend this, although it confused you since you had been to other parties this week. a feisty text notification buzzes in your pocket:

Don’t call me later tonight and ask me for a ride to your apartment. I’m not attempting to get through the storm of sweaty tech assholes to pull you out of that slut house.

Go ahead and make plans to stay somewhere else.

scoffing again, your thumbs fired across the keyboard.

i wasn’t going to ask you to, i’m gonna crash at halley’s. i already told you that

have fun alone tonight miss you love you

you end the short string of texts peacefully, though you really didn’t feel like being nice and pleasing him with a ‘love you’. the phone falls back into your jean miniskirt pocket and within minutes, your boyfriend is completely off your mind.

it’s a little silly that you’re still together even if he’s mean to you and so easy for you to forget about. you think about breaking up with him a lot, but you don’t want to have to embarrass yourself by telling people that you put up with it. you hope he just breaks up with you instead.

as you added finishing touches to the downstairs, familiar large footsteps thump down the steps. various ‘ayyyyy’’s and ‘there he is!’’s erupt from a crowd of fifteen or so boys clapping. you turn your head to see luigi, wearing an unzipped pullover on top of a white golf polo — he doesn’t even golf! — and khakis. he’s not one for fashion.

he says hello and apologizes for his disappearance, then makes his way into the kitchen, devouring a chipotle bowl that someone got and saved for him. luigi saunters back up the steps and goes into his room with a not-so-gentle closing of the door.

that tells you all you need to know — he’s moody and likely will be for the rest of the night.

an hour or two later, you manage to see him again! he’s drinking and talking to a few girls with two brothers around him. bodies are packed tightly in here; phi psi is known for the second-best parties in all of upenn greek life. his girlfriend was apparently denied at the door. you thought it was bold she even decided to show up.

as you’re having a drink and chatting with your friend, you smell the prominent cologne envelope your senses. you know that scent anywhere. you whip your head around and meet luigi’s gaze, and he must have been trying to speak into your ear over the bumping music because he’s leaned down, only a few inches from your face.

he seems shocked for a second, like a deer in headlights, like a toddler getting caught with the candy jar. luigi scans around your face as well, mentally noticing that the dark pink lipgloss you were wearing earlier was fading.

“where’s your boyfriend?” he asks, speaking loudly through the music.

“where’s your girlfriend?” you tease back with an easy smile.

he looks around, hesitating before speaking. “i don’t really wanna talk about her. i’m guessing you heard what happened last night?”

“everyone’s talking about it, gi,” you turn around, initially to introduce your friend to him, but your friend is gone. she’s teetered away across the room, talking to another brother. you turn back to luigi.

“what are you drinking?” he asks, looking down at your cup as if you didn’t know what he was talking about.

“i don’t know. my friend fixed it for me. whoever bought liquor is my new best friend,” you joke, placing your hand on his bicep.

oh god. he really is as buff as he looks.

“i may or may not have sent out an order for real liquor,” luigi chuckles with a faux sheepishness. “i can’t stand all the warm beer sometimes. shots just get the job done, and some people like cocktails.”

“have you ever had jungle juice?”

a confused look takes over his previously calm expression. “is that some sort of fruity concoction that’ll put you in the hospital?”

“you’re overestimating my tolerance entirely,” you giggle. “if you make it right, it’s not bad.”

“that still doesn’t tell me what it is,” he speaks before you can get another sentence out.

“probably because i wasn’t done talking!” you fake scold. “it’s like orange juice and pineapple juice and hawaiian punch with everclear or vodka. you just have to be careful with it. it’s kinda famous for being roofied, but i’ve never been roofied and i used to drink it at frat parties.”

“why would i want to drink something that’s famous for being roofied?”

“it’s just a thing! i don’t know!”

you both chuckle and a song that you both like comes on. almost instantaneously, you both start singing loudly and off key right in each others faces. warmth spreads through your body and you’re sure it’s the alcohol, but his smile is just so wholesome and the way the only lights are from laser projectors and an led light strip on the ceiling just makes him look so different in some weird way.

you keep singing and dancing with him, both of your bodies getting sweaty and migrating closer and closer. soon, you’re chest to chest, and you already know that if you come back to the house tomorrow you’re going to be tortured by the rest of the brothers. by now it really doesn’t matter, you’re having a good time with the president of the frat!

“you’re beautiful,” luigi says just loudly enough for you to hear.

your heart sinks. “what?”

“you’re beautiful, [___]. i mean it.”

“you know i have a boyfriend,” you correct him.

“yeah, and i have a girlfriend. she’s a bitch, and your boyfriend is a fucking dick.”

you’re silent for a moment. “he’s just protec-”

“don’t fucking defend him, [___], he doesn’t deserve your attention and support. if you don’t like him, break up with him.”

“you’re so drunk, gi.”

“only a little,” he shrugs, his hand finding your waist again and roughly pressing his lips to yours.

you can’t even pull away, you just feel paralyzed. then your lips start to move against his and before you know it you’re nearly tongue kissing. you feel your panties dampen with need almost immediately. he whines deeply onto your lips and you pull away to breathe.

“people are going to notice,” you look around hastily.

“do you wanna go to the main floor?” he asks, knowing that his reputation as well as yours can be tarnished by a too big of a slip up.

you nod and he grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd as if you’re a frat virgin. he grunts a few rude “move”s and “‘scuse me”s. by the time he’s trudging up the steps with you, your heart starts to thump in your chest. you’re not going to the main floor, you’re going to his bedroom.

back up in luigi’s room, you’re realizing how drunk you are by the way there are no moving lasers to make you feel steady. you’re swaying a little and fall down onto his bed. you’ve been in this bedroom so many times, but it feels different being in here now.

he sits down next to you after locking the doors and windows — roof walkers are strangely common here. his lips smash against yours again, this time overpowering you with wet kisses. one of his hands is on the back of your head and the other is on your cheek, gingerly pulling you in.

“you smell so good,” he whispers, trailing his kisses down your neck and onto your collarbones. he inhales your perfume on your collarbones and nibbles at the soft skin of your upper chest, leaving little purplish-red marks to blossom. luigi works his way down and looks up at you to ask for consent with his eyes.

you nod approvingly, not knowing what you’re approving, just that you want him. he pushes your halter top up a bit, looking at you again for approval, and continues to pull your shirt off with your nod.

luigi’s mouth immediately attaches to your peaked nipple, swirling around it and suckling at the skin around your breasts to leave hickeys.

“not like your boyfriend’s gonna see. i know your sex life isn’t the best.”

you look at him, confused on how he’d know. you were friends, but you’ve never mentioned anything of the sort.

“girls don’t hang out with frat brothers that they aren’t dating every weekend if they have a happy sex life,” he states matter-of-factly, and it pisses you off in a way.

“she must not suck you off very well, then,” you retaliate.

“she doesn’t,” he shuts down your attempt at getting him back. “you just look like you could suck a dent out of a car door.”

“excuse you,” you roll your eyes, getting turned on by how he’s being mean. arousal and wetness seems to snap loose, rushing to your heat. you squirm in place and he notices.

“are you getting wet? poor girl,” he pulls you over onto his thigh by your waist with no strain, his biceps flexing. the only thing you can think of is getting put into a headlock. as soon as your bikini underwear meet his khaki pants, you’re pathetically grinding against his buff thigh.

“s’at feel good, hm? feels good to use my thigh?”

“mhm,” you whine, lying your forehead onto his shoulder.

“you wanna take your skirt off for me, baby?”

nodding, you pause for a moment to shimmy out of the jean miniskirt. as soon as you toss it onto the floor where your shirt lays crumpled to the ground, you go right back to riding his thigh.

the tent in his pants looks huge when you glance down, and you whine again. “lu…”

“hm? y’okay?”

“wanna fuck you..”

“oh, sweet girl,” he mutters, flipping you around and lying you down properly. he places his head at your thighs and gently kisses them. luigi looks to you for approval again, and with your impatient nod he pulls your underwear to the side, delving his tongue into your wet folds.

your hands knead his scalp with a gasp, almost like you’re guiding him through what he should be doing. “fuck, gigi, that’s so good!”

he lifts your thighs onto his shoulders, allowing his tongue to work through your folds with a rough gentleness. “you taste so good, sweetheart,” he huffs.

one of your hands releases from his hair and grips onto the bedsheets, pulling onto them for dear life as he relentlessly eats your pussy like a starved man. you’re quickly orgasming, gasping out his name like a prayer.

he doesn’t stop to let you catch your breath, though, he just keeps going.

“lu, stop, s’too good…”

“i bet he doesn’t eat you out like this, does he? does he know what he’s missing out on? hmm?” he replaces his tongue this time with his middle finger, sliding it up and down your folds to gather his own spit before plunging into your warm, soaked cunt.

he then adds another before attaching his wet lips to your clit, making out with your pussy like a long distance relationship reunion. “shit, luigi, i’m gonna cum again! j’st like that, yes!” you moan pornographically, grinding your clit down onto his mouth fervently.

“you’re so tight, pretty girl, squeezin’ my fingers so good. can he fuck you like this with just his fingers?” he prompts again with a hateful tone, getting angry at the thought that another guy can’t make you cum — it’s not like it’s even hard for luigi to get you to cum.

you shake your head. “no, he can’t. he barely ever fingers me — fuck!” you admit before he hits that spongy spot with his fingers, and immediately his assault on your cunt becomes absolutely relentless.

“just like that, please! fuck, oh my god, you’re the best!” you plead to him, feeling that cocky smirk against your clit.

“yeah? you’re so much better than her. fuck, i love this pussy.” he grumbles, shaking his head so his nose brushes against your clit over and over.

your hand grips at his scalp again, pulling his big nose to your clit harshly. “i’m gonna fucking cum, lu, you’re so good…” you trail off breathlessly, thighs beginning to shake.

“you got it, baby girl. go ahead and cum on my face. you deserve that, yeah? go ahead n’cum,” he instructs, fucking his clothed bulge into the mattress below him.

you follow his order with a loud yelp followed by a high pitched, drawn out moan and bucking your hips to his face. he groans deeply as you clamp onto his fingers, legs shaking violently against his head and thighs squeezing together to almost suffocate him in your pussy.

as you come down from the high, you’re embarrassed that he made you cum so easily. you look at him and realize once he sits back up to catch his breath that he came into his own pants.

he lays his head down onto your naked chest, comfortable in the domestic position. he can still smell your pretty perfume on your neck. after five or so minutes of cooling down and catching your breath, he looks at you softly — some kind of way you haven’t seen on him.

“what do you say we get you cleaned up, hm? you can stay right here in this bed with me if you don’t wanna go home after.”

you nod your head with a gentle smile. “yes, please!”

[heeluvv]

been thinking about drunk sex with needy sub hee… like have you seen how flustered he gets when he’s drunk 😭

could you write something about this? i’m obsessed w your writing style

𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘 ˎˊ˗

pairing › lee heeseung x reader

genre › smut

warnings › slight oral (m receiving), sub! hee, drunk sex, etc.

natty’s notes › mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

you had heard plenty about the parties on campus—how wild they got, how unforgettable the nights could be. and when news spread that one was happening tonight, your friends were the first to let you know.

you were undeniably a party freak—you loved the thrill of it all.

getting wasted, dancing until your feet ached, drinking until the world felt lighter, meeting new people, making memories you probably wouldn’t even remember in the morning—it was the kind of chaos you craved.

you only lived once, after all. and if you were going to make the most of it, you wanted to fill your life with as many parties and unforgettable nights as possible.

heeseung, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.

his focus was solely on getting his degree, on securing his future. he didn’t drink much, and when he did, it was only ever with you. he never partied, never let himself get caught up in the reckless thrill of it all.

so when you had asked him to come with you—fully expecting a flat-out no—you had been genuinely shocked when he agreed.

still, you weren’t going to question it.

the two of you got ready, you slipping into one of your go-to party outfits—something that hugged your curves just right, something that made you feel confident, untouchable.

heeseung, in contrast, kept it simple, effortlessly attractive in a well-fitted shirt and a pair of nice jeans.

even without trying, he still looked annoyingly good.

and as the two of you finally made your way out the door, you couldn’t help but wonder—

just how much fun was tonight going to be?

it had already been about an hour, and you were content, pleasantly buzzed, nursing your second drink as you gossiped with your friends, the alcohol warming your veins and making the night feel lighter, looser.

heeseung stayed close behind you, his presence a constant heat at your back, his hand resting firmly on your waist, fingers idly tracing small circles against the fabric of your dress.

but something felt… off.

you noticed the way he was downing his drinks a little too quickly, glass after glass disappearing with barely a pause between sips.

his breath was heavier, coming out in slow, controlled exhales, like he was trying to steady himself.

and then there was his grip on you—tight, firm, possessive.

it wasn’t the usual casual hold, the kind that was just to keep you near—it was something more, something deliberate, like he needed to ground himself.

you glanced back at him, only to be met with a sight that sent a strange thrill through your chest.

his eyes were blown out, dark pupils nearly swallowing the warm brown of his irises, his face completely flushed, a deep, feverish red that trailed all the way down his neck.

but what really got you—what made your stomach flutter unexpectedly—was the way his poor ears were burning just as bright, twitching slightly as he swallowed hard, his gaze locked onto you, unwavering.

if you were a stranger passing by, you’d think he was seriously sick, seconds away from collapsing.

but you knew him.

you knew him like the back of your hand.

and you knew—without a doubt—that heeseung was completely, utterly drunk.

“y/n! are you coming to dance with us?”

your friends’ voices called out, their words slurring together, their own drunkenness already settling in.

but you barely registered them.

you simply waved them off, too caught up in the mystery of what had gotten heeseung so worked up, so breathless, so undeniably flustered.

and when you turned back to look at him again, his grip on your waist tightened even more, his fingers pressing into you like he was holding onto something fragile.

and his eyes?

his eyes held something dark, something unspoken—something you weren’t sure you were ready to unravel just yet.

“baby boy…”

your voice was soft, teasing, laced with curiosity, the words slipping past your lips as your fingers glided up to trace gently, deliberately against the feverish heat of his neck.

his skin was hot—burning, searing, like he was on fire from the inside out.

the second your fingertips brushed over him, heeseung shifted instinctively, his body tensing, muscles coiling, his grip on your waist tightening to the point where you could feel his fingers pressing into your skin.

“what’s wrong?”

your voice dipped lower, softer, sultry, but laced with genuine curiosity.

because heeseung—quiet, reserved, level-headed heeseung—looked like he was barely holding it together.

your eyes raked over his face, scanning every detail—the way his drunken gaze flickered away, purposefully avoiding yours, scanning the room like he was desperately searching for an escape.

the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, throat working hard, his lips parting slightly like he was struggling to breathe properly.

the way his red-tipped ears twitched, reacting instinctively to your touches, your voice, your presence.

and fuck—he looked so fucking cute like this.

flushed, breathless, struggling, caught between drunken haze and something else entirely.

something darker. something needier.

your stomach tightened, warmth pooling low and slow, because despite the fact that heeseung was clearly drunk, flustered, completely unraveling before you—he still looked so fucking good.

“n-nothing…”

his voice came out slurred, shaky, a pathetic attempt at brushing off whatever was consuming him.

but the way his grip only tightened further, the way his breath came heavier, deeper, the way his entire body tensed under your slightest touch—heeseung was lying.

and he was doing a terrible job at hiding it.

you leaned in slowly, letting your breath ghost over his flushed skin, savoring the way heeseung’s body tensed beneath your touch.

your lips brushed against his throat, leaving a trail of soft, feather-light kisses, the contrast of your cool lips against his burning skin making him suck in a sharp breath.

a quiet, nearly broken gasp escaped him, followed by a few soft, breathy whimpers, his lips parting as his head tilted ever so slightly, like he was instinctively giving in to you.

“you sure, baby?”

your voice was low, sultry, teasing, laced with just enough authority to make his fingers tighten around your waist.

you let your lips travel lower, trailing along the curve of his adam’s apple, feeling it bob beneath your kisses as he swallowed thickly.

you pressed a few gentle licks, letting your tongue graze the sensitive skin, before continuing up, tracing your way toward his ear.

“you know i hate it when you lie to me, pretty boy…”

heeseung let out a soft, needy whine, the sound barely above a whisper, his resolve completely crumbling in your hands.

his head fell back, exposing more of his throat, silently begging you to keep going, his grip on you firm, desperate, like he couldn’t bear for you to pull away.

he wanted more.

“k-kiss me, y/n… please…”

heeseung’s voice was fragile, breathless, utterly wrecked, his words coming in short, desperate huffs, his whines growing louder, more insistent, the more you teased him.

your lips continued their slow, torturous path along his neck, soft kisses melting into gentle sucks, leaving behind the faintest marks, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

his grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging in, as if that alone would be enough to pull you closer, to make you give in.

but you didn’t.

not yet.

“tell me what’s got my baby so flustered then?”

your voice was low, teasing, drenched in amusement, your lips brushing the corner of his cheek, trailing dangerously close to the side of his mouth, hovering—taunting.

but never giving him what he so desperately wanted.

heeseung’s breath hitched, his lashes fluttering shut, his brows furrowed with frustration, his head tilting forward, chasing your lips, but never quite reaching.

“you… it was you…”

his confession was soft, barely above a whisper, but the way he said it—the weight in his voice, the sheer desperation in the way his lips trembled with every word—it sent a thrill straight through you.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to watch him, to take in the way he was completely unraveling in your hands.

his lips were swollen, parted, glistening, his cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful red, his eyes squeezed shut as soft, breathy whimpers slipped out between heavy pants.

and fuck—he looked so gone for you.

his entire body screamed need, begged for your touch, and the whines that spilled from his lips, unfiltered and raw, cut through the heavy bass of the music surrounding you, as if the entire world had faded away—leaving only him and you.

you let your fingers slide up his jaw, cupping his face gently but firmly, forcing him to look at you.

and then, finally—you crashed your lips onto his.

the kiss was hungry, demanding, like he had been starved for you all night and was finally getting his first taste.

a low, broken moan tore from heeseung’s throat, his hands gripping onto your waist for dear life, pulling you flush against him, pressing his body into yours like he was scared you’d disappear.

“so needy for me, baby, huh?”

your words were muttered against his lips, your voice dripping in pure amusement, teasing, taunting, reveling in how absolutely wrecked he was.

but before he could even respond, before he could even beg for more—you pushed your lips against his again, kissing him even harder, deeper, and the taste of alcohol and heeseung filled your senses, intoxicating you in a way that had nothing to do with your drinks.

if you weren’t already tipsy from your second drink, you’d get drunk off just kissing heeseung alone.

one of your hands slid down slowly, tracing a path over his chest, feeling the way his body tensed under your touch, his heartbeat pounding rapidly beneath your fingertips.

but you didn’t stop there.

your hand trailed lower, lower, until it finally settled over his crotch, feeling the hard, aching length that was already pressing against the tight confines of his jeans.

the moment your fingers brushed over him, his cock twitched violently, a sharp, needy response that had a smirk tugging at your lips.

you let your palm press down, moving in slow, taunting strokes, massaging his erection through his jeans, feeling the heat, the sheer hardness of him, even through the fabric.

“y/nnn—”

his voice broke, his head falling back, a loud, pathetic whine slipping from his parted lips, followed by a series of soft, helpless whimpers.

fuck, he sounded so pretty like this.

“look at you, baby.”

your voice was low, teasing, filled with pure amusement, each word dripping from your lips like honey, slow and intoxicating.

“so fucking hard for me already—”

your fingers pressed down harder, adding just enough pressure to make his hips jerk up into your touch, chasing more friction, more relief.

”—and i haven’t even done anything yet.”

he let out a shuddering breath, his entire body trembling beneath you, his hands gripping onto you so tightly, so desperately, as if he’d fall apart if he let go.

you continued your slow, torturous strokes, your lips deepening the kiss, tasting every shaky moan that spilled from his mouth.

but then, you pulled away, just enough to trail lower, lower, lower, your lips finding the sensitive skin of his ear.

you didn’t stop at just whispering against it.

you let your teeth graze the shell, nibbling, sucking, leaving faint wet kisses, enjoying the way his entire body tensed and jolted, the way his whimpers morphed into desperate, breathy moans.

“ahh! uh—fuck, y/n, please…”

his voice was strained, wrecked, so utterly ruined, his hands clutching onto you like you were the only thing keeping him together.

“please what, baby?”

your voice was soft, teasing, utterly intoxicating, each word spilling like silk against the shell of his ear.

your hand tightened around his clothed cock, fingers pressing firmer, dragging slow, calculated strokes over his aching length, feeling the way he throbbed desperately beneath your palm.

his entire body tensed, shuddered, hips twitching helplessly, chasing the friction, chasing the high he was so pathetically close to.

“fuck, you’re so fucking cute begging for me, baby…”

you cooed, lips brushing against his feverish skin, reveling in the way his breath hitched violently, how he let out a sharp, strangled whimper, his body trembling like he was seconds away from crumbling.

but he couldn’t speak.

his mind was too hazy, too wrecked, his thoughts a complete mess of pleasure and desperation.

every attempt at forming a coherent response came out slurred, broken, incomprehensible, nothing but choked-out sounds and airy moans.

his head fell back, lips parted, wet, swollen, his throat exposed as he fully gave himself to the sensation.

but you weren’t just watching—you were memorizing.

the way his stomach clenched, muscles tensing visibly beneath his shirt, the way his chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths.

and then—the telltale signs.

his thighs tensed hard, his breathing stuttered, and you felt it—the way his balls tightened, the way his cock twitched uncontrollably beneath your touch, his body completely at your mercy.

“g-gonna c-cum… c-can i— c-can i c-cum, y/nn… p-please—”

his voice was wrecked, pleading, every word slurred, desperate, as he teetered on the edge of release, waiting for you to push him over.

waiting for your permission.

with just a simple nod from you, he completely unraveled.

his body jerked violently, his cock twitching aggressively as he came hard in his pants, a loud, shattered moan ripping through his throat, his entire form shaking beneath the force of his orgasm.

you watched him fall apart, and fuck—the sight alone made the ache between your legs intensify tenfold.

“fuck, baby… look at you.”

your voice was thick with lust, breathless, absolutely wrecked as you took in the mess he had made of himself.

heeseung gasped loudly, his chest heaving, his head tilting back against the wall as he tried to stabilize himself, tried to regain even a single ounce of composure.

but you didn’t let him.

before he could even fully catch his breath, you grabbed his arm, yanking him forward, dragging him through the hallway, weaving past drunken bodies in search of a bathroom.

and when you finally found one—empty, miraculously unoccupied—

you didn’t hesitate.

you shoved him inside, slamming the door shut behind you, locking it before immediately reaching for his jeans, fumbling desperately, impatiently, tugging them down, yanking his cum-soaked boxers along with them.

what you saw had your thighs clenching instinctively, your breath hitching in your throat.

“fuck… what a fucking perfect mess.”

your voice came out in a groan, admiration dripping from every word as you took in the sight of him.

his thighs were coated in his release, streaks of white spilling down his skin, his cock still leaking, still twitching, the aftermath of his orgasm spread across his body like a masterpiece.

without hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, stroking him lazily, teasingly, before your lips parted, your tongue darting out to taste him.

you moaned instantly, indulging in the saltiness of his release, dragging your tongue along the length of his shaft, licking every drop clean.

but you didn’t stop there.

your fingers glided down his thighs, collecting the remaining streaks of cum, gathering it onto your fingertips before bringing them to your mouth, sucking them clean—making a show of it.

“fuck w-wait y/n!—”

heeseung’s voice was hoarse, trembling, his entire body reacting instantly, his cock twitching once again, hardening all over.

his eyes were glued to you, to the way you moaned around his cock, to the way you licked his cum off your fingers, to the way you swallowed him down like he was something sweet.

“fuck, baby, you taste so fucking good…”

his voice was shaky, breathless, ruined, and when your eyes flickered up to meet his, dark and hazy and full of need.

you moved quickly, purposefully, rising to your feet and gripping heeseung’s shoulders, pushing him down onto the toilet seat with ease.

his breath was ragged, uneven, his flushed face tilting up to look at you, eyes dark, glassy, desperate.

you could see it—the hunger, the pure, unfiltered need written all over him.

but you weren’t about to give him everything just yet.

instead, you hiked up your dress, the soft fabric bunching around your waist as you hooked your fingers into your soaked panties, slipping them down just enough before straddling him, your thighs bracketing his hips, pressing your bare heat against his still-hard, leaking cock.

heeseung let out a sharp, broken moan, his hands flying to your waist, squeezing tight as his fingers dug into your skin, his eyes locked on where your bodies pressed together, where your slick coated his length.

“you wanna feel my pussy, baby?”

your voice was low, sultry, teasing, rolling off your tongue like honey, making his grip tighten instinctively.

he didn’t answer.

he couldn’t.

instead, he let out a loud, desperate whine, his hips jerking up instinctively, seeking relief, seeking you.

you smirked, leaning in just enough to let your lips ghost over his, letting his own desperation fuel your own.

and then—you sank down.

his cock slid into you effortlessly, stretching you so perfectly, filling you so deeply, the sensation sending a violent shudder through your entire body.

the moment he was fully inside, the both of you let out simultaneous, wrecked moans, the sound echoing off the bathroom walls, mixing with the heavy bass of the party outside.

heeseung’s head tilted back instantly, a deep, guttural groan tearing from his throat, his hands clenching at your waist like he was holding onto his last thread of sanity.

his lips parted, his chest heaving, struggling to process the way your tight, warm walls wrapped around him so perfectly.

and you?

you felt full, stretched, deliciously overwhelmed.

you hadn’t even moved yet, but already, it was too much.

already, you were both completely lost in each other.

the bathroom was thick with the scent of steam and sweat, the air heavy with the slick sounds of skin meeting skin, each movement echoing off the tiled walls. heeseung’s whines and whimpers came in broken, breathless gasps, spilling from his parted lips like desperate cries, his voice trembling with pleasure. his head lolled back against the tank lid, eyes glazed over, pupils blown wide with bliss as he drowned in the overwhelming sensation of you tightening around him. every pulse, every squeeze of your walls sent a violent shudder through his body, a sufferingly exquisite pleasure that left him gripping onto you like you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

“uhhhh—fuck, y/n—oh my god,” he choked out, his voice raw, wrecked, and dangerously close to falling apart.

“fuck, baby—you’re so good,” you moaned, voice thick with pleasure as your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails pressing crescent-shaped marks into his flushed skin. the muscles in your thighs burned with the relentless pace you set, each bounce sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you tremble. the toilet seat cover creaked beneath you both, shaking under the intensity of your movements, barely holding up against the force of your desperate rhythm.

heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened, his head tilting back, exposing the column of his throat as ragged breaths and broken curses spilled from his lips. “f-fuck—i’m close, y/n—fuuuck,” he choked out, voice cracking, his whole body trembling beneath you. every thrust made his thighs tense, his grip bruising, as he teetered on the edge, his mind clouded with nothing but the intoxicating feel of you wrapped so perfectly around him.

“yeah, baby? you gonna cum for me??” you taunted, your voice dripping with sweet cruelty as you leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. your breath was hot, teasing, making him shudder beneath you. with every desperate slam of your hips against his, the sound of skin meeting skin filled the bathroom, mixing with the sinful symphony of his broken moans. but what you loved most—more than the pleasure, more than the way he filled you so perfectly—was watching heeseung fall apart underneath you, watching the way his eyes rolled back, his brows furrowed, his lips trembling as he surrendered completely to you. and right now, he was doing just that.

“you’re my good boy, baby… my good boy…” you moaned, voice rising in pitch as a deep, toe-curling pleasure coiled in your stomach. the way he stretched you out, the way his hands clung to you like he couldn’t bear to let go—it all drove you closer to the edge. your pussy clenched down aggressively, your body instinctively milking him, pulling him deeper, the pleasure nearly blinding. you could feel it—your high, so dangerously close, ready to crash over you like a tidal wave.

“fuck—heeseung!” you cried out, your voice breaking, raw and desperate as pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. your body trembled violently, thighs shaking as your release spilled out, coating his cock in your warmth, dripping down where you were still connected. the overwhelming pleasure made your mind go blank, white-hot euphoria pulsing through every inch of your body as you clenched down around him, pulling him even deeper inside you.

“y/n—y/n—y/n!” heeseung chanted your name like a prayer, his voice wrecked, needy, completely lost in the feeling of you. his body tensed beneath you before shuddering uncontrollably, his grip on your hips bruising as he came hard, spilling deep inside you. his head fell back, mouth hung open in a silent moan before a sob tore from his throat, his entire body convulsing under the sheer intensity of his orgasm. his chest heaved, his breath uneven, his flushed face damp with sweat and bliss as he rode out every last wave of pleasure, completely wrecked—completely yours.

natty’s notes › hoped you liked it !!!

[ethanrayne]

80s dad!stan idea?

so i've seen... a couple different AUs where Dipper and Mabel are Stan's kids, but most of them set it up in such a way that the twins grow up in Gravity Falls, and while that's a very fun vibe, I think they would be very different as people with the specific and deeply strange environment of Gravity Falls around them at an early age, and also I really like the idea of an AU that preserves the vibe of wonder and mystery of it being their first summer in town... and the first time they're really interacting with Stan. But, of course, Stan is all about family, so the only way to do that is for him not to know about them until recently.

Enter: Carla McCorkle, Stan's high school girlfriend. What little we know about her is that she loves music & dancing, that the two times we've seen her she's been dressed in bright colors (colors, btw, that we've also seen on Mabel, usually), and that she dumped Stan for Thistle Downe, a hippie who Stan was convinced (possibly erroneously) used music to manipulate her. We don't know when that was, other than presumably before Stan got kicked out (though there's some solid angst potential in it being after that, it doesn't work for what I'm cooking here), but we know that the time between Stan being kicked out and the Portal Incident is "over ten years" and "ten years" depending on which lines you take as most accurate- but most timelines for the show that I've seen put it closer to 13 years.

So it goes like this-

Carla, barely 18, pregnant with her ex's kid- maybe not actually sure the kid is Stan's and not Thistle's at this point, but she has some suspicions- hears that Stan got kicked out, that he's left the state, and decides she's absolutely not telling anybody that this might be his kid, because she's sure as shit not gonna let Stan's family near her kid- sure, Stan's a bit of a wildcard, a little hot-tempered (what was he thinking, with that stunt he pulled with Thistle's car), but he's got a good heart, and she knows his dad's a hardass, there's no way Stan deserved whatever happened there, which means there's no way his family can be trusted to treat her baby decent. (Well, maybe Stanford, she always thought he was nice- a bit odd and a bit awkward, but Stan adored his twin, so Carla figured he must be more fun when he's not trying way too hard to be polite to his brother's girlfriend about how much he'd rather be studying than talking to her. At the very least, she'd consider trusting him with this in an emergency, but she doesn't expect to need to.)

Carla, over a decade later, having a bit of a rough time and neck deep in an increasingly deteriorating marriage to and probable divorce from Thistle (to keep the twins' parents-are-divorcing angst subtext), gets a call from a cousin back home (one of the only people other than Carla and Thistle that knows exactly who the twins' dad is- the twins know it's not Thistle, but not any details beyond that, and they're curious but haven't found anything out yet. For context, I'm thinking Thistle has raised them but is a very distant and disinterested stepdad, he's very much just the guy who was there, barely willingly) telling her to check the obituaries and (for crying out loud Carla) figure out how to tell the kids, because Stanley Pines' funeral is next week.

Carla does not tell the kids (yet). Carla, being a sensible and relatively compassionate woman, sees that the contact info regarding the funeral in the obit is for Stanford Pines and immediately calls to check on him. (It's not irrational, and she's not thinking about how if she'd said something sooner, things might be different, and it definitely isn't anything to do with the tight feeling in her chest right now- and Carla is maybe just as good at lying to herself as any Pines is because she believes all of those until he answers the phone. She knows that voice- it's sharper, deeper, rougher, but she knows the sound of him, and Stanford never sounded like that, which means.... something. Mostly, it means there's still time.

"Why are you holding your own funeral?" she asks, in response to the gruff hello he'd answered the phone with.

"Who is this?" he snaps back, sounding... nervous?

"Carla. Calling to offer her condolences to her ex's brother, who must be going through a hard time right now, after his twin died, except apparently you're right there, Stanley, so answer the damn question."

"....shit.")

....the problem is this is where I can't bridge the gap between the angsty bit and the bit where the kids stay with Stan for a while, but somehow they end up there for the summer, and much of the plot of the series plays out similarly, just in the early 80s instead.

(also possibly Stan and Carla end up back together because I'm a sap and also because, let's face it, Mabel would play matchmaker.)

[ablobwhowrites]

guys I have a yandere crk idea.

Mega yap session rn

What if instead of gingerbrave and his team having to build their own kingdom, cookie y/n who is a ruler of their own kingdom let's gingerbrave stay as it was a small kingdom with a reasonable amount of cookie citizens and y/n lets them come and go whenever they please and end up staying at the kingdom but gingerbrave and his team saw how kind hearted and nice y/n was to their people and even to strangers who might need a place to stay and of course they wouldn't leave y/n's Kingdom without protection cause y/n helped them and it's the least they could do.

Slowly as new cookies came in, y/n was overwhelmed as their kingdom was small but gingerbrave got the other cookies to help make the kingdom bigger and better and y/n was thankful but was kinda felt off about the new cookies and even gingerbrave and his team as they began to act odd to y/n, whenever y/n was trying to do the most simple thing, the cookies would rush to help. Even once when y/n helped with one of their cookies citizens flower shop when they went out to get a new flower stock, suddenly rebel cookie comes out of nowhere and offers to take this duty off of y/n's hands.

Y/n does get a bit bored of doing nothing as all the cookies usually jump in to 'help' y/n with a duty when y/n was just trying to help one of their citizens. But when I tell you, y/n fainted from pure shock when they saw the ancient cookies come to their kingdom including the beasts and let me tell you the citizens where in panic cause they thought y/n just died but no they just where in shock to see the ancients and the beast in one place which was a very much shock to them. And I do imagine just y/n's helpers around the castle are the sugar gnomes and some cookies who took on the job of helping y/n with duties around the castle but the main attendant thats y/n's closes advisor is a sugar gnome named clover who doesn't really talk to anyone except if they are running a errand for y/n or something. but clover worry's about y/n's health sometimes as y/n being a ruler of the kingdom still has intense duties with trades from other kingdoms, safety of new buildings and other things and this weights on y/n heavily sometimes especially with the new cookies has them worried and the strange behavior the cookies are towards them, like some giving flowers, leaving poems for them with the name secret admirer and such.

They sometimes wonder what would have happened if they never let gingerbrave and his team in their kingdom. But they do forget about that thought as all cookies deserve good shelter and a good place to live. Also y/n definitely loves to help their citizens decorate the kingdom when holidays come around and does a kind of big feast for the kingdom (hollyberry also helped by getting drinks and helping with the preparations of the feast and festivities) as clover thinks its useless to celebrate with a big feast for such short holidays, clover does join in as to keep y/n from doing something dumb or getting hurt.

I love kingdoms ruler y/n, they keep their people safe no matter what and also love to think Mont Blanc Cookie is the unofficial personal designer for y/n's outfits and cookie y/n definitely appreciates it but they feel it's to flashy but wears it regardless and it's nice and don't know where their old fits have gone so they kinda wear Mong Blanc's custom outfits. And love the thought of rockstar (or any musical cookie that you might think fits this) like cookie outside of the castle playing songs and y/n just waking up at night as their assistant clover tells the cookie it's to late in the night to be singing and to go home, before closing the window.

(I have many more ideas for yandere crk and other y/n ideas and would love to yap about them with you guys and I'm working on more of the new home sweet home au but yeah. If you like this, please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's that you have. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[dreamerinsilico]

Okay, but seriously: I've said it before, but that's the basis of my single biggest criticism of the series's worldbuilding. I don't find it funny so much as exasperating, because even completely setting aside how ridiculous the whole conceit of the Berethnet line is for OTHER reasons*, you just don't logically get a religion that is this neurotic about chastity and monogamy out of a culture that's neither paternalistic nor homophobic.

There is very pointedly no structural misogyny** or homophobia in the cultures depicted in these books, which particularly as a queer, AFAB person who grew up reading 90s high fantasy, is very refreshing. However. That is fundamentally at odds with the whole religion of the Saint's thing - it's nice and all that they're just as concerned with male chastity and marital fidelity as they are with female, but those concepts in the real world are founded in patrilineal inheritance and then by extension, the sexual control of women. If inheritance goes through the male line, in order for a man to know his son is really his own genetic material and you don't have paternity tests, you restrict women's sexuality. Take that away (make inheritance either matrilineal, or as is the case in most cultures in these novels, negotiable depending on the parents' relative social standing), and especially if you allow non-procreative marriages and inheritance by adoption, you've lost all rationale for sexual control as a virtue.

And you can't even really argue that all this is just because Galian Berethnet was a special kind of douchebag (though he was!), given his whole declaration about how his dynasty would be a line of queens (there is a tangent here about how or why exactly he would say that, or if he actually said that, given that the one living person who was there for it is, uh, an unreliable narrator, to put it extremely mildly), but setting aside Galian himself, the kind of fervent, sweeping cultural conversion that apparently took place after the Nameless One got spanked the first time around doesn't make any damn sense for other reasons that are a whole separate essay, but for the purposes of this one.... Sorry, press F to doubt on a whole culture just radically and nonsensically rearranging its sexual mores on the say-so of one asshole, even if that one asshole had a really cool sword.

deep breath I really like these books, I swear.

*One (1) dynasty where for magical bullshit reasons each scion can only produce one (1) heir, ever, but also this is hardly a medically-enlightened society that's conquered maternal and infant mortality, never mind how often their queens get assassinated, and this dynasty has lasted in an unbroken line for 1000 years? Sorry, suspension of disbelief already direly strained, thanks.

** One could say some things about the gendered politics of the Priory, itself, actually, because that's the only place where there are very firmly-defined gender roles, albeit in the matriarchal direction, but A Day of Fallen Night makes it clear that they're cool with trans people, at least, so it's more explicitly a social role than a bioessentialism thing.

Halfway through The Priory of the Orange Tree and the funniest thing about the queerness of the book is that the world is generally not homophobic except for one person who needs to be straight in order for her religion to work, and folks you’ll never guess who’s gay.

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel It- Part 5

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Previous Parts Here

Summary- You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

Part 5- Blurred Lines

•••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••

The sun hung high in the sky, beating down on the sand as the ocean stretched endlessly before you. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen, a familiar mix that always came with days like this—long, lazy afternoons spent by the water, where time felt slower, conversations easier, and worries faded with the tide.

It had started as a casual plan. A few people mentioning the idea last night, and before you knew it, a group beach day had come together. No drama, no hidden agendas—just an excuse to soak up the sun and pretend, for a little while, that life was simple.

And yet… something felt different.

For the first time since this whole thing with Rafe had started, Alex and Amelia weren’t around when you were hanging out with your friend group. There was no need to play pretend, no reason to cling to Rafe’s side, no excuse to blur the lines between real and fake.

And yet, you still found yourself next to him.

You weren’t sure how it happened. One minute, you were laying out your towel, the heat of the sand warming your skin, and the next, Rafe was dropping down beside you, close enough that his knee brushed against yours when he stretched his legs out.

“You look like you’re actually enjoying yourself,” he mused, tipping his sunglasses down slightly as he glanced at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Shocker.”

“Just saying,” he smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “No Alex. No Amelia. No fake relationship to maintain. And yet, here you are, still basking in my presence.”

You scoffed, turning onto your side to face him. “Says the one coming to sit by me.”

Rafe grinned, something lazy and amused in his expression. “I think it’s mutual.”

“What’s mutual?” Brooke’s voice cut in as she dropped onto the towel next to you, raising a curious brow between the two of you.

“That she’s obsessed with me,” Rafe answered smoothly, earning a shove from you.

Brooke snorted. “Right. Because that’s so believable.”

“Did the Rafe Cameron basically just admitted he’s obsessed with me?” You shot back, making Brooke laugh from where she was lounging on her towel.

“Jesus,” Brooke called over. “You two are really committing to this act, huh?”

You glanced at Rafe, your expression unreadable. “What act?”

Brooke narrowed her eyes. “I don’t buy it. You two went from barely tolerating each other to suddenly being joined at the hip. It’s weird.”

“You’re weird,” Rafe shot back, reaching for his drink. “Maybe we just realized we have good taste.”

Brooke made a face. “Yeah, or maybe you’re both just full of shit.”

Mia studied you for a moment, but she didn’t press the subject. Instead, she just smirked. “Well, whatever it is, I hope you two know what you’re doing.”

Did you?

You weren’t so sure anymore.

At some point, Rafe got up to grab drinks from the cooler, and when he came back, instead of sitting beside you like before, he sat behind you. Legs stretched out on either side of your towel, back resting against his arms as he took a sip from his beer.

You shot him a look. “Comfy?”

“Extremely,” he said, grinning as he nudged your back lightly. “Besides, this way, you get a nice little seat.”

You rolled your eyes, but when you leaned back against him, you didn’t move away.

Not long after, his fingers started lazily tracing shapes on your thigh, the touch light, almost absentminded. Your skin burned under his fingertips, and you hated that it made your stomach flip.

It was fake. Wasn’t it? Rafe was just enjoying this too much.

——

By the time the sun started to set, someone had built a bonfire further up the beach. The sky turned soft shades of pink and orange, the ocean reflecting the colors like glass. The air smelled of burning wood and smoke, the crackling flames casting shadows across the sand.

It was the kind of night that made everything feel a little lighter.

You sat cross-legged near the fire, the warmth licking at your skin as the group passed around drinks and retold old stories. Someone had a speaker, soft music blending into the sound of the waves. Rafe sat beside you again, and even though the crowd was big enough for you to be somewhere else, you didn’t move.

It was almost too easy, slipping into these moments with him.

“You cold?”

His voice was low, just for you, cutting through the murmur of conversation.

You shook your head, but before you could say anything, Rafe draped his hoodie over your shoulders again, like it was instinct. His fingers brushed against your arm in the process, sending a small, unexpected shiver down your spine.

You glanced up at him, raising a brow. “You trying to be a gentleman or something?”

Rafe smirked, but there was something softer in his gaze, something unreadable. “Trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death. Don’t make it weird.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, but something about the moment stuck with you.

You got up to grab another drink from the cooler when you felt someone step into your space.

Amelia.

She crossed her arms, looking you up and down. “So, what’s your endgame here?”

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Using Rafe to make Alex jealous.” She smirked. “I gotta admit, it’s a bold move. Desperate, but bold.”

You stared at her, caught off guard. “That’s not—”

“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “You think I don’t see it? You’re using Rafe as some little rebound so Alex regrets dumping you. Pathetic, really.”

Your jaw clenched. “First of all, Alex didn’t dump me, we were never official. Second of all, I’m not using Rafe for anything.”

Amelia took a slow step forward, her voice dropping lower. “He’s just a placeholder for you, isn’t he? Some little safety net to make yourself feel better.” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “We both know he’s not the type to stick around. He’s just going with it to get in your pants, But hey, enjoy it while it lasts.”

Before you could respond, a hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you away.

Topper.

He shot Amelia a glare before steering you toward the group. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just pissed Rafe doesn’t give her the time of day.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the sting of Amelia’s words. “She’s a bitch.”

Topper chuckled. “Welcome to the club.”

He walked with you back toward the fire but then glanced over at Rafe, who was already watching you, his expression unreadable.

Topper smirked. “You know what? Let’s get out of here.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Let’s go to Rafe’s,” Topper said. “Bonfire’s dying out, and I can guarantee she’ll keep trying to get under your skin if you stay.”

You hesitated.

Rafe caught on to the conversation and raised a brow. “You guys talking about me?”

Topper grinned. “Yeah, I just decided we’re going to your house.”

Rafe smirked, looking at you. “That so?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest. Anything was better than staying here with Amelia’s words lingering in your mind.

So, naturally, you ended up there.

By the time you got to Rafe’s house, the music was softer, more background noise than anything else. The lingering tension from the bonfire slowly faded, replaced by the comfort of familiarity. The smell of the ocean still clung to your skin, and the warmth of the fire had been replaced by the cool night air that drifted in through the open doors.

You were curled up on the couch, still in Rafe’s hoodie, your head resting against the back of the couch. The fabric smelled like him—cologne, a little bit of salt from the beach, something undeniably Rafe. It was oversized on you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the hem bunched up against your thighs as you tucked your legs beneath you.

“She’s out,” Brooke observed from across the room, her voice hushed but amused.

You weren’t completely asleep, but close enough that responding felt like too much effort. Your body was heavy with exhaustion, the kind that came after a long day in the sun, after too many drinks and too many emotions you didn’t have the energy to sort through.

“Yeah, and she’s taking my hoodie hostage,” Rafe muttered, but there was no annoyance in his voice. If anything, there was something almost… fond.

You felt movement beside you, the couch shifting slightly as Rafe sat down. He didn’t hesitate before leaning back, before letting his arm drape over your waist, his hand resting lightly against your hip. He was warm, the kind of warmth that made it easy to sink further into sleep, the kind of warmth that made you not want to move.

Brooke smirked, arching a brow at the sight of the two of you. “That’s cute.”

Rafe let out a tired huff, barely lifting his head. “Shut up.”

Kelce, who had been scrolling on his phone, barely spared a glance. “At this point, just date already and put us all out of our misery.”

Rafe didn’t answer.

Instead, his fingers absentmindedly traced over the fabric of his hoodie where it bunched around your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, wasn’t something he seemed aware of, but you noticed. Even in your drowsy haze, even with the pull of sleep, you noticed the way his touch lingered like he didn’t want to let go.

And then, a quiet whisper, meant only for you.

“Stay.”

One word. Barely audible over the hum of the music, over the quiet murmur of conversation.

Maybe if you had been more awake, you would’ve overthought it. Maybe you would’ve made a joke, brushed it off, reminded him that this wasn’t real.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you let your body relax against him, let your eyes drift shut, let yourself sink into the warmth of him without thinking too much about what it meant.

And just like that, the choice was made.

So you stayed.

————

The house was silent when you stirred awake, the soft hum of the speaker still playing some faint melody in the background. Your body felt heavy with sleep, your mind sluggish as you shifted slightly—only to realize you weren’t alone.

Rafe’s arm was still draped over your waist, his body pressed against yours in a way that should have felt uncomfortable but didn’t. His breathing was steady, slow, the warmth of him radiating against your back. Sometime during the night, you must have moved closer, because his chest was against your shoulder, one of his legs tangled with yours.

Your heart picked up, your breath catching as you took in the feeling of him, the quiet closeness of it all.

Everyone else was asleep—Kelce sprawled out in one of the armchairs, Brooke curled up on the other end of the couch, Topper somewhere on the floor with a pillow over his head and everyone else sprawled out in random places. The soft glow from the kitchen light was the only thing illuminating the darkened room, casting long shadows across the furniture.

Carefully, you untangled yourself from Rafe, moving slowly as you slipped out from under his arm. He stirred slightly, brows pulling together like he could sense the absence of you even in his sleep, but he didn’t wake.

You padded quietly into the kitchen, your throat dry, your body still warm from being wrapped up against him.

You reached for a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water from the sink, but before you could take a sip, you felt a presence behind you.

“You were just gonna sneak away?”

You turned, finding Rafe leaning against the doorway, his hair slightly messy, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes were still heavy-lidded, but there was something else in them too—something unreadable.

“I was just getting a drink,” you murmured, lifting the glass to your lips.

Rafe took a step closer, running a hand through his hair before exhaling softly. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“You were asleep,” you said quietly, setting the glass down on the counter. “I didn’t wanna wake you.”

Rafe studied you for a long moment, his gaze flickering over your face, like he was trying to figure something out. Then, without thinking, he reached forward, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, barely there, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t move away.

Neither did he.

His fingers lingered, his eyes dipping to your lips before flicking back up to meet yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The air between you was thick with something unspoken, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge but couldn’t seem to ignore.

And then, he leaned in.

It was slow, hesitant—like he was giving you a chance to pull away, to stop it before it happened.

But you didn’t.

Not at first.

Your breath caught, your heart hammering, the warmth of him so close, too close—

And then her voice echoed in your mind.

‘We both know he’s not one to stick around.’

The words settled like a weight in your chest, an anchor pulling you back to reality.

Your stomach twisted, hesitation creeping in, doubt sinking its claws into you.

Rafe must have sensed it because he stopped just before your lips could touch, his brows furrowing as he studied your expression.

You stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath. “You don’t have to—” You hesitated. “You don’t have to try to make me feel wanted after Alex.”

Rafe blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to frustration in an instant.

“Is that what you think this is?” His voice was low, rough with something you couldn’t quite place.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I just—”

“You just what?” Rafe demanded, jaw clenching. “You think I’m doing this out of pity? Out of some fucking obligation to make you feel better?”

You didn’t answer.

Because deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

You knew Rafe wasn’t the kind of person to do something he didn’t want to do. You knew he wasn’t the type to pretend—not like this.

But that didn’t stop the fear.

The fear of falling for him.

The fear of getting hurt again.

The fear that this was temporary, that eventually, he’d wake up one day and realize you weren’t what he wanted.

So you stayed silent.

Rafe let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “You know what? Forget it.”

“Rafe—”

“I’m going to bed,” he cut in, turning away before you could say anything else. “You can have the couch.”

And just like that, he was gone.

You stood there in the dimly lit kitchen, the weight of his absence settling heavy in your chest, the feeling of his almost-kiss still lingering on your lips.

————————————

What do we think will happen next ? 🤔

Taglist: @rafecameronsbaeee @drewwhor

@wtfisastiles @emmafitzzz @wtfdudesblog

@yasmin-oviedo @yourmomdotcom42069

@pogueprincesa @maybankslover

@rrosiitas @my-name-is-baby

@rafecameronsslut1234 @ggraycelynn

[nishikio]

Can you write something about reader meeting Riki's mom and sisters ?? I think it would be super cute

hello anon! Thank u for ur request! I wrote this on the metro so I’m not sure if it feels rushed but I hope you like it!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟPairing: riki x female!reader

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟGenre: fluff🤔

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟWarnings: none

──── ୨୧ ────

y/n had met plenty of people in her life but standing outside riki’s family home felt different. This wasn’t some formal introduction or passing interaction. This was his family. The people who raised him, who knew him in ways she didn’t yet, and she wanted them to like her.

riki, of course, found her nerves amusing.

“You know they’re not scary, right?” he teased, hands in his pockets as he leaned closer to her.

y/n shot him a look. “Easy for you to say. You’re already their favorite.”

“I am their son.”

“Exactly, so I have to compete.”

riki rolled his eyes but smirked anyway. Before he could reassure her, the front door swung open, and his mom appeared with a bright smile.

“There you are! y/n, finally, we meet in person,” she said warmly, immediately reaching out to pull y/n into a hug.

y/n stiffened in surprise for only a second before relaxing into it. the hug wasn’t overwhelming—just warm, like an unspoken you’re welcome here.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” y/n said as they pulled apart, offering a genuine smile.

riki’s mom gave her a once-over, still smiling. “Even prettier than I expected. And you carry yourself so well—ah, I love you already.”

y/n felt her face heat up slightly. “That’s really sweet, thank you.”

Before she could say anything else, a small voice interrupted.

“So this is y/n.”

y/n turned her head to see konon leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyeing her with a smirk. Unlike misora, who stood beside her with a more neutral expression, konon had the kind of presence that made it clear she was the older sibling.

“I was wondering when riki would finally bring you over.” konon said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer.

riki groaned. “Can we not make this weird?”

konon ignored him, instead looking y/n up and down before nodding. “You’re cool. I like you.”

y/n chuckled, feeling some of her nerves fade. “That’s a relief.”

misora, who had been quieter, finally spoke up. “I’m curious about something.”

y/n turned to her. “Yeah?”

misora tilted her head. “How do you handle him?” She pointed at riki.

y/n blinked before bursting into laughter. “Honestly? I just bully him back.”

konon cackled. “That’s the only correct answer.”

riki scoffed. “You guys are sick.”

His mom just smiled fondly. “Come inside. We were just about to have dinner.”

As y/n stepped in, konon threw an arm around her shoulders like they’d known each other forever, already talking about all the embarrassing childhood stories she planned to share. Meanwhile, misora nudged riki.

“She’s cool,” she said simply.

riki, watching y/n laugh as she got effortlessly pulled into their family dynamic, smiled softly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

──── ୨୧ ────

masterlist

reblog and comment <3

[fear-is-truth]

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝔁 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 AU .ᐟ ─── sunshine!nurse! reader x nam-gyu ⟢

a/n : kind of a crossover. so instead of kim seo-wan, it’s post-squid game nam-gyu. y’all should watch daily dose of sunshine, i highly recommend that show.

nam-gyu was one of the lucky survivors of the game, but barely. the money didn’t fix him. didn’t make the fucking nightmares go away, didn’t stop his hands from shaking. the withdrawal is worse than ever, and he’s burning through his winnings fast. eventually, the game hosts step in—not out of kindness, because he’s a loose end. they check him into a facility, keep him monitored.

the first time he met you, he thought you were cute. not that he’d ever admit it. but it was annoying—how his brain registered it immediately and it stuck with him even after you walked away. he told himself it didn’t matter. you were just another face in a place he didn’t want to be. but later, when he caught himself looking forward to seeing you, he knew he was screwed.

he loves to test you. makes lewd comments, and generally acts like a jerk. but instead of getting angry, you’re always calm and kind, which confuses the hell out of him. it makes him want to do it more—you’re a challenge, and he’s trying to see how far he can push you before the sweet smile on your face breaks.

he’ll act out in little ways to push you away, just to see how far he can go. but you keep being kind, even when he’s doing everything he can to make you uncomfortable.

he doesn’t know how to respond to your kindness. most people would’ve gotten frustrated with him by now, but you’re just… there. patiently waiting, as if you’ve known him forever, as if you’re not afraid of what he’s capable of. sometimes, when he looks at you, he almost feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. you’re not just some nurse doing her job; you’re someone who actually cares.

nam-gyu doesn’t understand why you’re so nice to him. he suspects it’s some kind of mindfuck, to make him feel more messed up than he already does. he doesn’t get why you’d want to be around someone like him. and that warm smile of yours— that goddamn smile that makes him feel like maybe he doesn’t have to be a total asshole all the time. to you at least

when you’re doing your rounds, checking on other patients, nam-gyu sometimes gets jealous. he doesn’t want you to focus on anyone else. so he does things to distract you—asking unnecessary questions, pretending he needs something when he really doesn’t, or making sarcastic comments. he wants you all to himself.

when he’s going through withdrawal or PTSD flaring up, his hands shake uncontrollably, and the cocky, obnoxious version of him disappears. you sit next to him and gently take his hand in yours, not for any other reason than to offer comfort. you’re the one he wants around, even if he’d rather die than admit it.

he gets embarrassed by how good you are to him. when you bring his favourite snacks, when you remember some offhand comment he made, how you always treat him like a friend instead of just another patient—it unsettles him. (in a good way)

he’s not a good person. not by any stretch of the word. but when some doctor disrespects you, when another patient crosses a line, it’s like something inside him snaps. and suddenly, it doesn’t matter how much trouble he gets in. because if there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s this: you don’t deserve to be treated like that.

at some point, without meaning to, he starts falling for you.

[driptillyoudrop]

You are not awake

I've recently come across some literature that indicates people have trouble discerning when they fall asleep.

Individuals given a polysomnogram (a sleep study) couldn't pinpoint the moment they fell asleep during the test, and they often believed themselves to be awake when they were, in fact, sleeping. The test monitors brainwave activity, among many other things, making the moment of "falling" asleep extremely clear...at least for the person administering the test. The person being tested, sleeping, typically finds things to be much more blurry and uncertain.

This isn't much of a surprise to me (or hypnotists in general), since subjects often believe themselves to be quite awake when they first drop into trance. Much like falling asleep, without careful monitoring, the line between wakefulness and trance can be quite blurry. The mind is intriguing like that.

To be fair, though, the indicators of trance aren't always supremely obvious. The moment you slip into trance is often subtle and silent, much like when you enter another state of consciousness while reading or listening to music, driving, dancing. You've been following my words for a bit now, and it probably hasn't yet occurred to you that you are not awake.

You are not awake.

Do you believe me? Consider it; how do you really know when you're falling into trance? It's a bit different for everyone - and you may have learned your own indicators - but how precise can you be? Most of the time, you are told when it happens, or you tell yourself. Sometimes you are counted down to 0, told to sleep, instructed to relax deeply...but these are suggestions to get your conscious caught up to things that are already happening. The drop could have happened at any time, should you be sufficiently distracted. That is rather the point, after all.

You have been focused on my words this entire time, distracted by them. You find it easier to focus now than when you started. Your breathing has slowed, your body has started to relax, and you've been tuning out the rest of the world bit by bit. You remain at least partially aware of your surroundings because you haven't yet been instructed otherwise - there is no need. If you like, you can remain fully aware of your surroundings.

You are not awake, and you haven't been since you started to follow. Part of your mind may have begun to analyze this notion when I first told you, but you aren't going to let it jar you awake. A much stronger part of you knows, intuitively, that I am telling the truth. You came here to submit; it's no surprise that you have.

The part of you silencing the analysis and doubt is excited by the idea that you can feel fully aware and alert while sinking deep into a trance. You can surrender to my suggestions without showing any outward signs that you are enthralled. Only you will know.

You are not awake.

Think to yourself that "it is important to follow and obey. I am really not awake, am I?"

Feel a rush of pleasure simply from doing as you were told. Feel another rush as you realize that despite feeling aware, you are not in control anymore. It feels good to obey. It feels good to let your thoughts give way to my words. You'll continue to obey.

I like to call this a waking trance, despite the fact that you are not "awake." It is very easy to slip in and out of this state when you follow my words. Easy enough that each time you read, "you are not awake," you let yourself slip under my control. You can bring yourself up, then read again and slip back down. Give it a try.

You are not awake.

Feel your hands freeze in place for a moment. Count to ten in your head, nice and slow, and feel the pleasure of obeying along with the bliss of submission. When you reach ten, your hands will return to normal.

If you're feeling particularly brave, you could even follow and obey like this in a public place. Don't worry, you'll be rewarded for following my words whether you submit in public or private. I won't push you into uncomfortable situations.

You'll follow my words through the next sections, and choose your own surrender depending on your preference and circumstances. When you've chosen, you'll be compelled to read again, more slowly to feel a more potent effect.

You are not awake.

Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in a public place, you'll find yourself compelled to softly mouth or think to yourself "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." As you do this, you'll feel a stronger sensation of pleasure and content pass through you. Repeat those phrases to yourself a few more times while maintaining awareness of your surroundings, and continue to learn how easy it is to slip in and out of waking trance simply by focusing on my words. You'll find yourself drawn back to that phrase when you're next in private.

If you are comfortable and would like to intensify that satisfaction from obedience, you'll leave a comment about your experience in waking trance, especially if you chose to try it in public. It is important to follow and obey.

You are not awake.

Like I said, you won't feel obligated to try waking trance in public, unless you are naturally drawn to the thought.

I understand, there is always the allure of the comfort and privacy of home. Trance, even waking trance, can be a very intimate thing.

Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in private, you'll find yourself unable to resist chanting quietly, "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." While the pleasure reward for doing as you were told flows through your mind and body, you will spread your legs and touch yourself for me.

As the chant continues, you'll feel your eyes glaze over as you stare helplessly at the screen. You'll find that you have no control of your own pace, drifting steadily deeper. In private, you'll find it very easy to slip into waking trance, but nowhere near so easy to slip out of it. I'm sure you won't think to mind. It is important to follow and obey. Stroke yourself to orgasm for me as you realize how enthralled you are by my words.

You are not awake. Like, reblog and dm me…

In either scenario, you'll wake shortly after, feeling surprisingly refreshed...and perhaps a bit mischievous.