#but i know that when i was in high school we were taught how to close read and pull apart nuance and subtext and form our own opinions base
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Never grow up
Summary: When the youngest Hughes misses the relationship she had with her brothers before hockey was the priority.
Canton, MIđ
May 18th, 2023
4:38pm
Madeline stood before her graduating class at Canton Highschool, she never realized how hard highschool was without her brothers by her side. Now she stands at the podium preparing to say a speech, or a relay of the essay she wrote that got her into NYU.
âGood morning students, staff, faculty and my fellow graduates, today is a special day, for many. These past 4 years have changed my life completely and today, Iâd like to share the reason Iâm here.â
she took a breath while flattening her paper against the stand.
âI remember vividly the days we spent in Toronto, a tight-knit group of siblings with big dreams and even bigger imaginations. Quinn, the eldest, always leading the way with his determination and drive. Jack, the middle child, bringing laughter and mischief to our days. And Luke, the youngest before me, with his infectious energy and spirit. We were a team, unstoppable in our bond and unity. If you havenât guessed yet, this is about my brothersâ
A few chuckles were heard while the three brothers sit front row, looking back and forth to each other.
âBut now, things have changed. They've all ventured into the world of professional hockey, achieving remarkable success and fame. Meanwhile, I'm still here, navigating the complexities of high school, feeling the weight of their achievements press down on me. It's like I'm running a different race, one where I struggle to keep up with their pace as they sprint ahead to glory.â
âThere are moments when I long for the past, for those carefree days when we were all together, sharing secrets, dreams, and laughter. I miss the times when they would confide in me, when we were each other's biggest supporters. The distance that fame and adulthood have brought between us leaves me yearning for the simplicity of our childhood, where the only competition was who could score the winning goal in our backyard games.â
The whole Hughes family had small tears in their eyes, including Madelines.
âYet, amidst the longing and the sense of being left behind, I find a quiet gratitude within me. Their absence has taught me to stand on my own, to navigate the challenges of growing up without relying on their shadows. I've learned to face harsh realities and tough situations with a strength I never knew I had, all because they showed me the way by moving forward. So, in a way, I thank them for unknowingly pushing me to grow and discover my own path in this journey called life.
Thank you Canton Highschool, you really taught me the ups and downs of life, but even more thank you to my familyâ she smiled and stepped back, hearing applause.
Stepping down to her chair, she could only think about what they would if they were there, she had no idea.
She saw her parents standing by the exit, then 3 very familiar guys in suit right next to them.
The sound of her heels clicking against the floor drowned out as she sped up along with her heart. Quinn noticed her first and stepped infront of the family, she just about leapt into his arms, clinging to him like heâs going to slip away if she lets go.
âMaddyâ he whispers. âWhy didnât you tell me?â He asks quietly.
âI didnât tell anyoneâ she mumbles back before stepping back, only for Jack to swoop in and grapple her in a hug, she let out a âoomphâ at the impact.
âIâm sorryâ he mumbles.
âDonât please, itâs over nowâ
Luke stood patiently waiting for his turn. They had become the closets of the siblings before he started university, he felt horrible that she went through such a thing and didnât tell him.
As soon as she looked at him, guilt washed over her.
âLuâ she hummed as she reached over to hug him.
âYou didnât tell meâ
âI know, but I didnt want you to feel bad that I was feeling bad. But hey-â she leaned back.
âNYU is just 15 minutes away, okay?â
âokay, or you know you could just switch to online and leave with me and-â
âno chance- sorry, I love you two, I really do I just still need my space. But maybe Iâll live down the streetâ
âDealâ
âWhat about me?â Quinn asked while ruffling her hair. âIf Iâm in online I can travel whenever I need to, oh- and Vancouver has that really cute book store I likeâ she smiles while he chuckles at her.
#hockey#luke hughes#jack hughes#new jersey devils#quinn hughes#jh86#lh43#qh43#vancouver canucks#hughes sister#hughes brothers
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I don't have an insta đ
I do have to respect that honestly.
#instagram is one of the worse social media apps i use it only to post my own photography and scroll on my fyp which is well curated somehow#btw if youâre trying to date dont communicate on instagram#exchange numbers. keep that boundary and keep it sacred#dont let whoever ur trying to date see your social media presence#even worse if their dms are on silent who tf are you and whose dms are you trying to avoid?surely not mine#how are you going to set up a date with me when your insta DMs are on silent. you havent responded to me and its been 6 hours the day of!!!#how is it 3 pm and its your day off and we were supposed to have a date but youre acting like youre beyoncĂŠ omg text me the fuck back#plus you havenât texted me two whole days#and im mad about it cause thatâs a very attractive long haired peruvian man i mean wow! fuck this#had to block cause even if there wasnât any commitment im not letting myself be disrespected the fuck#anyway if a man asks for your Snapchat specifically he is a serial killer and he will murder you OR he is twenty years old or younger#if a man asks for your TikTok he thinks youre in high school. we all are too classy for TikTok#TikTok is the temu of apps just trashy altogether. you open and thereâs aliexpress-reminiscent adsâŚewâŚIâve only posted a few times#but every time i open the app i feel like Iâll catch lice it just feels unclean#we talk about twitter and how ass it is to use which is fair but tiktok is worse i meanâŚUI nightmare#a man that uses TikTok is off the deep end you canât save him#heâs frying up his attention span. meaning he wont be able to focus on you as he should because you are a queen#instead heâll think about skibidi toilet or some shit does anyone know what that is?i dont#imagine kissing a man having no idea he has that fucking âoh no oh no oh nononoâ audio stuck in his head#a man should read a book and even then that should be fucking controlled#im reading Freud right now and its torture. tbf it does happen to be sexuality theories#girl its fucking gross#academia is cooked cause in what world do i get creds for reading the most wack books in the history of ever?#Iâve read 11 books and half of them were boring#this Freud included and its repulsive to read and not even true.#why is it 2024 and im still being taught untrue info just cause old man from old times wrote it#i could clear freud. he literally was a cokehead#in the end heâs a man like the rest of them and if you show him TikTok his brain cells will be cooked#so who won?
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No fr, I saw Hazbin fans on TT who ACTUALLY THOUGHT Alastor's last name was "Altruist". Like. They didn't comprehend it was a word he was mockingly attaching to his name after his performance in the finale.
oh my good god. once again i say, the media literacy (and possibly literacy, period) is buried beneath the ground like...thatâs actually concerning. unless they were young teenagers who just didnât know what the word meant,, tho idk if young teenagers should necessarily be watching hazbin but thatâs a different conversation for a different time.
#in my short time in the hazbin fandom i have seem some really wild takes and interpretations#and most of them are just straight up wrong. like;;; not the interpretations or the personal opinionsâeveryone is allowed to have those ofc#and that's valid.#but i mean like saying stuff that is FACTUALLY wrong#because you know;; there's the facts of the text itself and then there's the bits left up to the viewer's interpretation#but anyway#i'm not gonna get into that hahaha#i just rly do think the inability to close read and the lack of analytical skills is very concerning#you *should be* taught how to close read in high school literature classes#i'm not american so i don't know just how awful their school system currently is#but i know that when i was in high school we were taught how to close read and pull apart nuance and subtext and form our own opinions base#on that; on the material itself. and how to argue and back up our points#not that anyone necessarily needs anything THAT SERIOUS in fandom but like just the general skill of close reading#the fact that so many people lack it is justttttt a lil scary idk#i'm rambling now i've been having this conversation with several friends over the past week#it's just baffling#ANYYYYYWAYYY#hope ur having a great friday anon!!! <3#pls enjoy ur weekend and stay safe c: love u lots!#inky.bb#clari gets mail
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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".
it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.
do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.
but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.
do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).
you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.
walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.
no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.
do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."
you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.
there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.
i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.
he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."
#spilled ink#warm up#âwhy did u tag it warm upâ bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol#btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can#run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her#but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like.#ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone!#like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate''#we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!
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Listening to a podcast discussing conspiracy theories and deconstructing the ideas behind them and it's reminded me of the coolest practical lessons in critical thinking I ever got, both in high school, both from the same teacher. One was a month long project on who killed jfk in which we could basically present any theory as long as we cited all our reasons and it got us really excited about research and interpretation, but it was the follow up that I liked best.
Our next project she brought us into class and showed us a documentary claiming the moon landing was faked. Gave us worksheets to do that sided with that stance. And at the end of class a bunch of us were like miss wait this doesn't seem right?? and she said okay, we'll discuss that next week. The next lesson, she showed us a mythbusters episode countering all the claims of the original documentary and gave us worksheets for that, and another bunch of people went wait miss you can't teach us two opposing things, which one is right? What do we put on the exam??
So she split the class in two and told us each to present a case based on each side, and to explain why our source was or wasn't the more reliable of the two. Got us to debate each other directly and use additional sources to back us up and explain why those sources were reliable and should be believed. And because they were randomly assigned there was no guarantee you'd agree with the stance you were presenting, but you had to present it like you did. At the end of the project she asked us all which stance we found more convincing and why, and the majority of us basically said "we think that the moon landing is real because most of the arguments against it seem like someone reacted to a confusing thing without testing it, but when you test it and ask the person running the test to explain the science it makes sense once you have more information. Also, one documentary was made with the help of scientists with qualifications and experience and the other was made by people who don't have that but like to write mystery books, which looks like a less reliable way to get an answer. But we still dont understand why you showed us both if one is wrong."
And she was like excellent. You've done exactly what you should do. At high school level, we as teachers are expected to filter for the reliable sources for you, so you know to repeat that to pass an exam, but if you want to be historians on your own, I won't be your teacher any more once you graduate. Lots of people have opinions and theories and research about times in history, and it's your job to learn how to look at them and decide who you want to trust. This won't be on the exam, but I need you all to know it. You all did a great job following the school's instructions to repeat information you were given, but for some of you, that information wasn't on a reliable foundation. I know you all know how to pass an exam. You're smart and you've been trained to follow these instructions. What you deserve to be taught is how to use all this once you don't have to do exams any more.
And then as a reward for us doing a good job at figuring out the value of checking your sources' sources she let us watch Bush get hit in the face with a shoe before we had to go to maths. Shoutout to you Ms Hannah you were a good'un I hope you're doing well ten years on from that class
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A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.
So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.
Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.
When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.
One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"
He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."
And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.
I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.
So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.
Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.
But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?
All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.
I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.
This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.
In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.
One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.
Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.
Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."
In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.
On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.
In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.
#riki babbles#I had this in my drafts for ages and I was like 'not the time' but a friend encouraged me to share so here it is#palestine
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computer class was great actually we had this unhinged but ultimately really cool teacher who, on day 1, walked into the classroom, looked at all of us, and told us to Buy USB Sticks Right The Fuck Now. if this man caught you using the cloud in his class hed probably throw you out of the window. and he was right
#this man looked like he was picked up off the street by the school. he was strict but not. we got to build robots in his class#he was. the only teacher in that school. who knew i didnt want to be in The Girl Group. when doing group projects#our final project for his class was meant to be programming a videogame (just a small one obviously) but bc of covid. that didnt happen#he was the only adult in that entire school who knew how computers worked. im not exaggerating#every time a teacher didnt know what they were doing with a computer. he was the guy they brought in#ramblings#my dad taught me most of what i know about computers. but that teacher made me build a robot out of lego.#it was an optional class consisting of like 15 boys and 3 girls. and also me#and it was. definitely a class i had in high school. when i was 16
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â๨ŕ§ËâĄË࣪ adore me, mark your territory !!
á°.á after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. ( fem!reader )
pairing kenyu yukimiya x reader word count 3.6k content contains corruption kink/innocence kink, loss of virginity (both you and yukki), first time, creampie, breeding kink, slightly manipulative!yukki, you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, dark(ish) content kinktober masterlist
To love someone is to know them.Â
You love Kenyu Yukimiya with all your heart; you know his hopes and his dreams, his fears and the tiny voice in his head that serves to either goad or encourage him. The two of you grew up together, attending all the same Catholic private schools up âtil he went pro fresh out of high school graduation, and you decided to attend a tiny, private all girls university.Â
You know that heâs kind and funny, much more outgoing and adventurous than you. You know that he can be gentle, and that he chooses to always be gentle with you. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him.Â
But while distance makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps itâs the distance that has caused this newfound unfamiliarity between the two of you.
âKenny, I donât⌠I donât understand.â Youâre lying down on your painfully small twin-sized mattress in your dorm room. Kenyuâs on top of you, his body hovering over your own. He gives you that familiar, comforting smile of his as he asks you gently (your Kenyuâs always so gentle with you),Â
âWe love each other, donât we?âÂ
âOf course we do.â You say softly. Your arms are by your side, and youâre playing with the frills on the oversized comforter of your bed. Your whole entire room still screams girl. Yukimiya finds it endearing; he finds everything about you so damn endearing. Your floral quilts, and the stuffed animals heâs won for you from claw machines and unfairly rigged carnival games. Your fluffy comforter, and the way you always love to wear dresses, even when itâs just to attend a lecture.Â
And your unwavering innocence.Â
Everyone knows that Catholic private schools arenât as pristine as the parents of the students like to claim it is, but youâre the only one who remained devout. The only one who genuinely stayed true to the lessons taught. You didnât drink, you didnât smoke, you didnât sneak out. The only parties you attended were birthday parties chaperoned by a trusted adult and held in the early afternoon. You always followed the dress code and never tried to get away with folding the waistband of your school-issued skirt to make it shorter, like some of the other girls did. Hell, Kenyu had to literally ask your father for permission to date you before he asked you out.Â
And while Kenyuâs always been on his best behavior, itâs not like heâs unaware of the world. Heâs not naive like you. And thatâs okay. One of you has to know enough to lead the other; Yukimiyaâs more than happy that heâs the one taking on that role.Â
The thing is, Kenyu truly does love you. Itâs why he doesnât rush you, doesnât try to force you to go further than what you think youâre capable of, than what you think youâre allowed to go. He ignores the hard on he gets every time you two make out, the way your hips sometimes move on their own, grinding against him with no thought to strip out of your clothes and let him finish. Youâve been together since the first year of high school, and now youâre in college, and heâs playing professional soccer, and he loves you, and he still hasnât even seen your pussy. Honestly, his closest friends tell him he must be a saint.Â
But the talks in the locker room, the snide comments from his least favorite teammates, the jokes and the teasing and the mocking, condescending tones â gotta protect Yukkiâs ears, canât let him Mr. Private School hear this, as if heâd even know what weâre talking about; damn virgin â all of it is chipping away at his pacifist, mild-mannered demeanor, revealing the feral, greedy egoist that lies underneath.Â
You had been so excited to hear your beloved boyfriend was flying down to your college town this weekend, just to see you! Your roommateâs out on a holiday with her parents, leaving the dorm room all to yourselves. In your cute mind, this just means more room for the two of you to hang out.
For Yukimiya, it means he has no more obstacles to get in the way of him fucking you for the first time.Â
âAnd you know what two people who love each other do, right?â Heâs still using the same pacifying, soothing tone he always uses when heâs trying to calm you down. When you skinned your knees and cried from the sting of the alcohol wipes used to clean the cuts, he had used this voice on you. When you cried at the airport because he was leaving the country to meet the team who paid an exorbitant amount to have him on their starting lineup, he had used this voice on you. Right now, you canât understand why heâs using this voice on you. Youâre not hurt; just confused.Â
âKenyu, wh-what are you talking about?âÂ
âIâm talking about making love, [Name].â One large palm is rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. The movement causes the thin fabric of your sundress to rise up. Yukimiyaâs never touched you down there before. You donât know why his touch feels so good, but you do understand what heâs talking about now.Â
âBut Kennyââ Your voice is reduced to nothing more than a nervous whisper, almost as if youâre scared someone is listening in. ââwe canât. Thatâs for married couples.âÂ
Well, if itâs any consolation, Yukimiyaâs always planned on marrying you.Â
He kisses your forehead, his hand never relenting from its position on your thigh. Your dress remains lifted up at an angle on one side. He can see part of your cotton panties; plain and white. If he moves his fingers up a few more centimeters, he could tug at the waistband of them.Â
âI know, sweetheart. But Iâve been thinkingâŚâ His hand travels from up your thigh to rest on your hip. The one side of your dress is now all the way up, and his thumb rests on the thin waistband of your panties, rubbing reassuring circles to get you to remain calm underneath him. âWeâll get married soon, anyway, right? I love you so much that I need an outlet to show you just how much I love you.âÂ
âMarried? Soon?â Your eyes widen. You find yourself daydreaming about marrying Yukimiya, starting a family. Yukimiyaâs smile stretches wide across his handsome face. His sweet girl, he knew youâd be putty in his hands after he mentioned that.Â
âOf course.â He kisses you on your lips sweetly, his hand never leaving your hip. âAnd I want to give you all the love a husband has for his wife. Wonât you let me, [Name]?âÂ
Kenyuâs always been handsome. You have a collection of all his professional photoshoots, and you know that he has a bunch of fangirls from just his looks alone. Itâs so unfair of him, really, to give you that imploring look of his. You canât say no to Yukimiya, and you think you never want to.
And so you do let him.Â
Kenyuâs quick. With the speed he normally reserves for on the field, Kenyuâs mouth meets your at the same time his other hand grips your neglected hip. Now both of his hands are bunching up the fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up to reveal your simple, plain panties.Â
âMmph.â You moan into the kiss. This is a bit different than what you two normally engage in; somehow, everything feels a lot heavier, headier. You canât seem to think straight. All you can focus on is chasing after his lips, matching his hungry pace.Â
The heat radiating off the two of you is enough for Kenyu to separate from you momentarily. The lens of his glasses are fogged up, and he grins at you, satisfied at the progress youâre making, before taking his glasses off and setting them neatly on your nightstand.Â
And then heâs back to kissing you passionately again. Youâre lost in the pleasure of his kisses, unknowingly bucking your hips up, not knowing why your body is craving friction, for some attention, down there. Your hands reach up to grip the front of Kenyuâs shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer. Youâre getting desperate, and he finds it so cute.Â
âLift your arms up for me, sweetheart.â He mumbles against your lips, and your headâs too hazy for you to properly register his request. He repeats it, still as gentle as ever with you, and this time, you manage to comply.Â
âFuck.â You donât hear Kenyu curse often; he says itâs impolite to do so in front of his girl. He breathes out the word, and you feel shy all of a sudden as his eyes roam over your body. He tossed your dress to the side unceremoniously, and because the dress itself had padding, you decided not to wear a bra. Youâre laying on your bed, nothing to protect your modesty besides your cotton panties.Â
âYouâre the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I see.â He praises you, and you donât feel too shy anymore.Â
âK-Kenyuââ You look up at him, all doe-eyed and sweet. Youâre pressing your thighs together, drawing his attention to the plush of your thighs, the way hiding in between your legs is your special place that only Kenyu will be allowed to see, to touch, to taste, to love. âWhat do we do now?âÂ
He leans down, whispering in your ear in his familiar, kind voice, âNow, you lay down, and let me show you how much I love you.âÂ
You love Kenyu so much, you think it should be impossible for your heart to have so much room for him. You know Kenyu must feel the same way, but never before has his love for you ever felt so overwhelming. Kenyu pries your thighs apart, forcing you to open your legs for him, but you didnât know showering you in his love meant that he was going to take his fingers and rub against the mound in your underwear.Â
âW-wait, Kenny!â You yelp, trying to shut your legs, but heâs too big, too strong. He blocks the movement, keeps you nice and spread for him. âIââ You donât know what to tell him, and you donât know how to explain why thereâs a tiny puddle gathering in the thin fabric of your panties. Sometimes, you feel funny and this starts to happen, usually after a long makeout session with your boyfriend.Â
âYouâre so wet for me, [Name].â He almost sounds in awe, staring down at your covered pussy almost as if in a trance. The pace heâs using is rather slow; heâs content, for now, with just stroking his fingers up and down your covered slit, fascinated with the way he can watch you slowly drench through the cotton. The wet spot only continues to grow; he bets he can get his fingers damp with your arousal soon, and he wouldnât even have to take your panties off to do so. âDo you always get this wet for me?âÂ
You want to cry, and you can even feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He looks up, instantly stopping his ministrations, his concern written all over his expression. âHey, hey.â He shushes you, peppering kisses all over your face. Heâs not stroking you anymore, but his large hand is cupping your pussy, the heat of his hand encasing your special place. Youâre practically throbbing against him, your cunt aching and hungry for his touch. He just has to get you to open up for him, to understand. âThereâs nothing wrong with that. Youâre supposed to get wet right here for me, you know that?âÂ
You sniffle, unsure if heâs just placating you. âReally?â
âReally.â His smile is so gentle, his tone so soothing and reassuring. Heâs back to grazing his knuckles across your cunt, enjoying the way the fabric keeps on getting damper. âIt means your body is happy, and it lets me know that you love me as much as I love you.âÂ
His other starts to tug at your waistband, dragging down your panties until heâs pulling them right off. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down and stares at your pussy for the first time. Your folds are glistening, your little clit peeking out at him, begging for him to suck on, to rub against.Â
âCute.â He tells you, tracing a finger curiously against your slit, the tip of his index finger so close to entering your clenching, unbreached hole. âIâm going to make you feel really good now, okay, [Name]? Tell me, have you ever played with yourself down here?âÂ
âWha-?â Youâre confused, appropriately so. The boys and girls were separated during sex education, but you remember your teacher drilling it into your heads that under no circumstances should a young girl ever touch herself. You had been confused at the time, confused as to why anyone would ever. Youâve been taught that only your husband should ever touch you right there. But Yukimiya loves you, and heâs going to be your husband, and now youâre starting to think you know why girls may want to touch themselves. Youâve felt this heat in between your thighs before, this mysterious hunger for something, but now youâre feeling it tenfold. You shake your head, too choked up to speak.Â
âNo? Not even like this?â You donât expect Kenyu to insert his finger. The intrusion is foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. Your walls instinctively clench around his digit, and he has to remind himself to breathe, to remain collected, to take things slow so you can enjoy yourself properly. âYouâre clamping down on just one finger.â He breathes out, curling his finger, moving it against your walls. He brushes against a spongy spot inside of you, one that has you jerking up, a shocked, pleasured moan escaping from your parted lips. âThat feel good?â He asks, before adding a second finger, both of them bumping against that same sweet spot.Â
Your legs feel like jelly, and you nod weakly. It does feel good. Too good. So overwhelmingly good that a foreign, euphoric sensation is taking over you. You canât seem to control your body, and you canât stop the flow of cute, pleasured mewls flowing from your mouth, and you manage to scream out a warning to Yuki. âS-something isââÂ
A clear stream of liquid spurts out of you, splashes onto him, soaks your cute comforter.Â
âFuck, youâre amazing.â Your walls are too sensitive now, but throughout the whole process, Yukimiya never stops thrusting his fingers in and out of your inexperienced cunt. His eyes are wide, but the gleam in them is sharp, hungry, calculating. âI didnât even get a chance to mess with your cute little clit. You came just from penetration?â He finally removes his fingers, examining the way your juices are dripping off his digits. âYou didnât just cum, you squirted.â
You turn your head, trying to bury your face in a pillow so he canât see the embarrassed and debauched expression on your face, but he takes his dry hand and forces you to continue looking up at him.
âThatâs a good thing, sweetheart.â He coos, sucking at his fingers obscenely before releasing them from his mouth with a pop!. âIt means youâre perfect and all ready for me.âÂ
Kenyu knows that his cock is the first cock youâve ever seen, and heâll make damn certain that itâs the only one youâll be seeing for the rest of your life. Thereâs no frame of reference for you to use, but you donât think that men should be so big. When he frees his dick, making a show of squeezing tightly at the base and pumping it, showing off to you, you swallow hard.Â
He taps the head of his cock against your swollen, needy clit, teasing the both of you. Heâs losing all sense of restraint, and even rubbing the underside of his cock against your glistening folds, trying to slick up his cock so itâll be easier to glide into your soaked cunt, is enough to make him want to cum.Â
âIâm going to fuck you now, sweetheart.â His voice sounds strained, the gentle tone hanging on by a thread. âWeâll be making love for the first time. Arenât you excited?âÂ
You nod. Excited and nervous. His cock much larger than his fingers, and maybe he should have prepped you more, but you came so easily. He always knew you were perfect for him. Pleasure is so unknown to you, the tiniest taste of it is enough to take you out. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
He holds your hand and kisses you to distract you from the sting of his cock breaching your virgin cunt. You gasp into the kiss, pain registering in your mind first, but Yukimiya is quick to take your breath away, to swallow up any potential protests that might have come. He keeps on kissing you, his fingers intertwined with your own, and heâs pushing himself as deep as he can go. He only lets up from the kiss the second heâs buried to the hilt, and you greedily swallow up the oxygen youâve been deprived of.Â
The feeling of a hard cock inside of you is foreign, but your body clings to his length. Unlike his fingers, with its dexterous ministrations that had you keening and squirting when he brushed them against a special spot, his cock fills you up, stuffs you full. Your cunt is greedily sucking him in, and when he whispers that heâs going to really start moving now, itâs not just one spot that heâs hitting.
Youâre not sure whatâs happening to your body, but it feels like Yukimiya is wringing out pleasure from you from every angle inside of you.Â
âAh, fuck, you feel so good for me, sweetheart. Such a tight pussy, so wet, so warm.â The heat encasing his cock is nothing like heâs ever experienced before. The wet warmth of your pussy is so inviting, so intensely pleasurable, that Kenyu doesnât think heâll be able to last. Cumming so soon might be embarrassing, but itâs not. Not when itâs his sweet girlâs pussy thatâs begging for his cum.Â
You wail out his name, your legs reflexively encircling around his waist, locking him in, keeping him close to you as you cum again. This orgasm is practically ripped out from you, your cunt way too sensitive, the repeated battering of his cock drilling into your hole too much for your inexperienced mind and body to handle.Â
âKenyu, Kenyu, Kenyu!â When you say his name like that, it makes it hard for him to not immediately bust a load inside of you. Gone is the gentle expression from your boyfriendâs face; in its place is something feral, dark.Â
When he pulls out, he sees your white cream coating his cock. When he thrusts back in, he hears the lewd squelch of your wet, overstuffed pussy. Itâs enough to drive a man insane with lust.
âHey, sweetheart.â He grunts out, and your head struggles to remain straight, to not loll to the side and let yourself be used. You look up at him, but your eyes are glassy and your mind seems to be in a far away place, so far gone, so fucked out. âWeâre going to get married soon. So itâs okay if I get you pregnant right now, right?â His bare cock fucking your virgin pussy raw. Heâs going crazy. âIâm gonna fill you up, get you all nice and bred for me. Make you my wife, make you a mommy.âÂ
The domestic daydream makes you tighten up around him, even though your body is too weak to cum again. Thatâs alright. Heâll just have to cum enough for the both of you.Â
âHang onto me, sweetheart.â And you do. Your legs are still wrapped around him, but you weakly raise your arms, holding him close to you. He starts pounding at your pussy, his unrivaled speed and strength turning you into mush. You have to dig your nails into the muscled skin of his back, feeling like youâre on the edge of a cliff, about to crash.Â
âFuck, Iâm about to put a baby in you, love. My sweet girl, my sweet wife.â He kisses you, messy and sloppy, and he stills. The aggressive thrusts stop, and you realize why.Â
Thereâs a new heat entering inside of you; hot spurts of his cum are pouring into you, and he only moves his hips a bit to plug you up further, to make sure none of his seed can trickle out of you.Â
Youâre about to lose consciousness, your brain fried from pleasure and exhaustion. All you do is weakly mumble out his name before the world goes black.
You think if this is what making love is, you love love.
âHoly shit, Yukki.â Isagi gapes at his shirtless teammate.Â
Yukimiya glances up, about to pull his jersey over his head. âWhat?âÂ
âWhat the hell happened to you?âÂ
âHm?â He asks, before turning to try to examine his back. Across the pale muscles are thin, red scratches, fading slightly from the time itâs been etched onto his skin by your nails. He smiles serenely, his mild-mannered attitude ever present. âOh, this? My fiancee likes me close to her at all times.âÂ
#kenyu yukimiya x reader#yukimiya x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#kanyu yukimiya x you#yukimiya smut#blue lock smut#bllk smut#bllk scenarios#drabble#one shot#imagine#smut#lemon#kinktober 2024
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played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron
request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"
pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG
wrote this listening to roses <3
Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that.Â
Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back.Â
The humiliation was killing him.Â
Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasnât just enough to ruin her reputationâhe wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasnât. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.
And thatâs when he noticed you.
Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.
You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didnât utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.
Hell, he didnât even know you were a cheerleader until that night.Â
Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica.Â
You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background.Â
You were perfect.
If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasnât as irreplaceable as she thought.Â
âYou really gonna do it?â
He didnât take his eyes off you, âOh yeah. âM doing it.â
âNahh, thereâs no way youâre pulling this off.â
Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelceâs skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.
 âYou think so?â he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. âWatch me.â
Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. âCome on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? Sheâs cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but sheâs not queen material.â
Rafeâs eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. âSheâs got potential,â he said confidently. âJust needs someone to show her how to use it.â
Topper laughed, shaking his head. âYouâre insane. This isnât some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly sheâs hot. Jessica had something that canât be taught.â
âThatâs where youâre wrong,â Rafe pointed out, âItâs all about confidence man. Jessica wasnât born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.â
Like a school project, he thought to himself. Thatâs all you were.Â
Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. âAlright, Iâll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because sheâs got a long way to go, my guy.â
Rafe tilted his head, considering. âGive me two months. By the end of it, sheâll be turning heads. Maybe even more.â
Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. âTwo months? No way. Iâll bet you a grand you canât pull it off.â
Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. âOh, this is gonna be good. Iâm in. A grand says you canât turn her into the hottest girl in school.â
Rafeâs eyes glinted with determination. âYouâre on,â he said, without hesitation. âIn a month or two, youâll be handing me that fucking cash, and sheâll be the one everyoneâs talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.â
Kelce raised his glass. âTo Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.â
Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelceâs. âHereâs to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.â
He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed.Â
âYou better start saving up.â
This plan was flawless.Â
It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easyâtoo easy. Sheâd fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal.Â
The next day, he started showing up at places he knew youâd be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didnât approach you, just observed.Â
He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.
You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. âHey,â he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. âYouâre in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?â
You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldnât believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasnât it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.
He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldnât afford that.
You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.
âYou always this buried in work?â he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.
You glanced up, surprised he was still there. âI guess. I have a lot to catch up on.â
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. âI hear you. Econâs been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?â
He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.
You hesitated, then nodded. âYeah, itâs⌠fine. Just a lot of material.â
âTell me about it,â he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. âIâve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professorâs trying to torture us?â
You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. âMaybe. Itâs kind of her thing.â
Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. âYou mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.â
You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. âUm, sure. I mean, if you want.â
âDefinitely,â he replied smoothly. âYou seem like you actually know whatâs going on, unlike me.â
He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didnât push, didnât try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.
âIâm sorry about Jessica.â
The way you blurted the words out told him you hadnât meant to say it.Â
Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didnât wantâJessicaâs name being brought up, especially by you.
But he couldnât let you see that.Â
He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. âOh,â he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. âYou know about that?â
You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. âYeah⌠I mean, itâs all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I justâI didnât mean toâŚIâm sorry.â
Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. âItâs okay,â he said, his tone gentle. âI guess itâs just one of those things, yâknow? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.â
You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page.Â
âShe shouldnât have done that to you.â
He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. âYeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasnât meant to be.â
He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasnât angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. âBut hey,â he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, âEverything happens for a reason right?"
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. âRight."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. âYouâre not like everyone else around here. Youâre real, yâknow? Genuine. I like that.â
Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.
Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. âIâm justâŚhere.â
Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. âIâm glad Iâm getting the chance to see that.â
You didnât say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.
Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, âThanks, Rafe."
Oh, you were too perfect for this.
He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.
 âAnytime."
It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.
But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place.Â
He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. âSo,â he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, âYou think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because Iâm pretty sure Iâm doomed without you.â
You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. âYeah, I think I can manage that.â
As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another.Â
Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. Heâd walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.
He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.Â
Heâd invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differentlyânothing too drastic, but enough to catch peopleâs attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.
The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place youâd only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on youâmade you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach.Â
âCome on, itâll be fun,â Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.
âI donât know⌠Iâm not really into parties,â you admitted.
Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. âI promise I wonât let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?â
His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. âOkay. I guess I could give it a shot.â
The first party was initially awkwardâloud music, people you didnât know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged.Â
But Rafe stayed close.Â
The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonightâmore confident, more assertive.Â
âRelax,â he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. âYouâre with me. Have some fun, sweets.â
You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on youâon both of youâwere hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.
He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.
âGuys, this is her,â Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. âTold you Iâd get her to come out with us.â
Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. âWell, well, Cameron. Didnât think you had it in you.â
Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. âNice to meet you. Rafeâs been talking you up.â
You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. âNice to meet you too.â
Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. âWhy donât you grab a drink? Iâll be right here.â
You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.
âSo?â Kelce asked, âHowâs the project going?â
Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. âBetter than expected. Sheâs starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but Iâd say weâre on track.â
Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. âShe seems⌠nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?â
Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
Topper shrugged. âJust saying. She doesnât seem like the type whoâs cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what youâve got planned.â
Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. âSheâs sweet, alright. But thatâs the whole point, isnât it? Sheâs not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, itâs gonna be legendary.â
Rafeâs lips curled into a smirk. âExactly. Sheâs perfect for this.â
He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyesâsomething he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.
When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy heâd been playing for you all night.
âGot something good?â he asked, nodding towards your drink.
You giggled, holding up your cup. âJust punch. Thought Iâd start slow.â
He snorted, nodding approvingly. âSmart move. Donât let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.â
The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourselfâwhether to grab another drink or use the restroomâhis demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and heâd share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.
But you didnât see any of that.Â
You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls youâd built around yourself start to come down.
Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. Heâd spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.
But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.
He knew better than to get too comfortable.Â
He knew his ex wouldnât stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.
âRafe, can we talk?â
He didnât look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasnât even worth the effort. But he couldnât resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. âWhatâs up?â
Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. âWhat do you mean?â
She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. âDonât act like you donât know. Sheâs a nice girl, I know sheâs not your type.â
Rafe couldnât help the smirk that tugged at his lips. âJealous?
Jessicaâs eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there tooâguilt.Â
âNo. Youâre just going to use her to get back at me? Thatâs not fair. She doesnât deserve that.â
He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. âYou didnât think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?â
"Rafe."
"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."
Jessica flinched, âIâm sorry, okay? I shouldnât have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. Iâm not sorry about that.â
âDo you even realize what you did to me?â The memory of the last time heâd trusted her flashed before his eyesâthe way sheâd smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, âYou donât get to apologize now. You donât get to tell me whatâs fair.â
Jessicaâs expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. âIâm not saying this for me. Iâm saying it for her."
"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"
"You're being difficult for no reason."
Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didnât get to play the moral high ground after everything sheâd done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.
âStay out of it, Jessâ he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. âAnd keep your fucking mouth shut.â
She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if sheâd been expecting this. âJust think about it before you do something stupid."
Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment heâs attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.
This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.
But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game.Â
Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself.Â
He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like heâd planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasnât just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.
One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun youâd had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit upâit caught him off guard.
âThanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought Iâd actually enjoy these things, but you make it⌠I donât know, easier, I guess.â
Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words.Â
âIâm glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.â
You looked up at him, your eyes softening. âI donât think Iâve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didnât have to be this nice to me.â
For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.
His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. âItâs no big deal. Really.â
But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.
You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you tooâyour innocence, your trust.
He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.
âRafe⌠Iâve been meaning to ask you something,â you began, your voice a little hesitant.
He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. âYeah? Whatâs up?â
You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. âWhy did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or⌠or something else?â
Rafeâs mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldnât hurt you. He could lie, like heâd been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.
But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. âBecause⌠Iâm glad you did. Whatever the reason was. Iâve never felt this⌠this good about myself. And itâs because of you.â
Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
Fuck. Heâd never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasnât just part of his stupid revenge plan.
Heâd thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
âYouâve always been amazing,â he said quietly, his voice hoarse. âI just⌠I just helped you see it.â
You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls heâd carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.
He couldnât let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldnât be able to follow through with his plan.
But pushing you away now, after all the effort heâd put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think ofâhe leaned down and kissed you.
It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didnât pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.
But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.
The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.
âIâll see you tomorrow,â he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.
You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. âYeah, tomorrow.â
This was wrong.Â
He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldnât bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.
What the fuck was he doing? He couldnât afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldnât help but feel that he was the one who was losing.
Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessicaâs words mocked him.
âIâm sorry okay? I shouldnât have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. Iâm not sorry about that.â
He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior.
But now, lying there alone, he couldnât help but wonder if he was any different. He didnât plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.
How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.
And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyesâthese were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time.Â
âFuck,â he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.
The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something elseâyou.
Rafeâs resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.
When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met youâstill shy, but with a confidence that hadnât been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed.Â
He noticed everything about you these days.
âHey,â you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. âThanks for picking me up.â
âAnytime,â he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. âReady for another day of fun and learning?â
You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadnât been there a month ago. âIf by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.â
He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. âIâm starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. Youâre just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.â
You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again.
âYeah, thatâs me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.â
âSee? I knew it,â Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldnât quite shake.
The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.
âRafe, can I ask you something?â
He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding.
âSure sweets, whatâs up?â
You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit heâd noticed you had when you were nervous.
âWhy did you kiss me?â
Rafeâs heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment heâd been dreadingâthe moment when youâd start questioning everything. He couldnât afford to slip up now.
âWhy not?â he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didnât expect. âI like you. I like being around you.â
You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if youâd decided to believe him.
âOkay,â you said. âI just... I didnât want to assume, yâknow? Itâs just... new.â
âGood new, though, right?â
âYeah,â you admitted, âGood new.â
The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafeâs effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more.Â
Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with youâa far cry from the shy girl heâd first approached in the library.
As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.
âHey, you two,â she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. âMind if I join?â
âSure,â you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.
The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something youâd done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise.
Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.
When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. âSheâs nice. I didnât think she even noticed me before.â
âShe notices you now,â Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.
You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. âIs something wrong?â
Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. âNo, nothing. Just... thinking.â
âAbout what?â
He leaned back in his chair. âAbout how youâre starting to steal everyoneâs attention here. What am I gonna do when youâre the most popular one around here?â
You laughed, shaking your head. âI donât think thatâs gonna happen anytime soon.â
Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.
As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.
Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.
âYo, Cameron. Whatâs up?â
Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. âI need to talk, man. About the bet.â
Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafeâs voice. âWhat, you already feeling bad for her? Didnât think youâd go soft so fast.â
Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. âItâs not that. Itâs just... I didnât think itâd be like this. Sheâs... sheâs actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.â
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious.
âDude, we all knew she was nice. Thatâs what makes this so good. Youâre flipping the script. Just remember why youâre doing it.â
Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. âI know, but... She trusts me."
And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.
âLook, Rafe, youâre in too deep to back out now. If you quit, sheâll still get hurt, and youâll look like a fucking idiot. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? Itâs not about her, itâs about Jessica.â
Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldnât see him. âYeah... yeah, youâre right. I just needed to clear my head.â
âGood,â Kelce said. âNow go get some sleep or something. Weâve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.â
âYeah, sure. Thanks, man.â
By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened.
You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching youâa guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.
The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close.
The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadnât expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.
You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you werenât used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didnât. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.
Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.
When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.
âRafe, whatâsââ
He didnât let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him.
And then he kissed you.
It wasnât like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didnât care who was around, who was watching.Â
All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.
You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.
Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldnât get enough.
People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didnât care. He didnât pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at himâdazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.
âWhat... what was that?â you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.
Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
âJust couldnât help myself,â he murmured, his voice low and rough.
You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him.Â
He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching.Â
Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. Sheâs mine.
When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something elseâsomething that looked a lot like longing.
He knew heâd just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didnât care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.
âCâmon,â Rafe said, his voice softer now. âWeâve got class.â
You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldnât bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.
As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.
âRafeââ
âYouâre my girl,â he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. âOkay?â
You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldnât control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didnât care.
âRafeâŚâ you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.
âYou donât have to say anything,â he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. âI just⌠I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, usâ"
âOkay.â
He was already in too deep.
And just like that, he got what he wanted.Â
The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together.
The next two months were a dreamâutter bliss. You werenât just happy; you were radiant. Youâd become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale.Â
Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldnât get enough of youâyour sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.
But deep down, in a place he didnât dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes.
He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didnât matter anymore.
After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.
Until it ended.Â
ââˇŕłââˇŕłââˇŕłââˇââˇŕłââˇŕłââˇŕłââˇââˇŕłââˇŕłââˇŕłââˇââˇŕł
Itâs after cheerleading practice, and youâre alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but thereâs something different todayâa tension you canât quite place.Â
As youâre zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldnât normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.
"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."
Oh.
Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"
Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafeâs been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you canât move, canât think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.
No. No, this canât be real.
Leilaâs voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation sheâs causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. Sheâs out there thinking heâs her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."
Jessica doesnât say anything, but you canât bear to hear more. You feel like youâre suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.
Before you know it, youâre runningâout of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare thatâs suddenly become your reality.
The ache in your chest doesnât fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You donât know where youâre going, but you know you canât stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.
You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movementâsqueaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.
Heâs in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus youâve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leilaâs words slams into you like a wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.
You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you donât care. Youâre beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what heâs done.
"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.
He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name.
The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you.Â
Now, all you see is a liar.
âWhatâs wrong baby?â He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.
You donât answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together.
But itâs impossible.
âWas I a bet?â
His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.
For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you itâs all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.
He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explainââ
âWas I a fucking bet?â you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you canât control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.
His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but thereâs nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.
âIt started as a bet,â he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, itâs as loud as a gunshot. âBut itâs not like that, I swear. Iââ
âWhat the hell is wrong with you?!â
He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you canât stop. Itâs like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation youâve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you donât have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly heâs messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away,Â
âWeâre done.â
âPlease, just listen,â he pleads, his voice cracking.
âNo.â
And with that, you leave.Â
Rafeâs voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and youâre left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps.Â
The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.
âGo away,â you say, your voice barely holding steady.
âI canât,â he says, his voice strained with desperation. âNot like this.â
You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. âYou donât get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?â
He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. âI know I messed up,â he says, his voice thick with regret. âI know I shouldâve told you the truth, but Iââ
âBut you didnât,â you cut him off, your voice rising. âYou let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didnât you?â
âIt wasnât a game,â he insists, his voice cracking. âIt wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.â
You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. âI donât believe you.âÂ
Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation.Â
âIt wasnât a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actuallyââ He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. âI care about you. Thatâs real.â
For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.
âI donât even know who you are."
You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.
âIt isnât supposed to hurt like this,â you whisper, more to yourself than to him. âItâs not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.â
Rafe takes another step closer, âPlease, sweetheart,â he murmurs, his voice breaking. âJust give me a chance to make this right.â
"You donât get to have a chance. You donât get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.â
You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you canât.Â
Not this time.
With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. âIâm done.â
âDonât say that,â he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.
But youâve made up your mind.Â
âI mean it. Weâre done. I need you to stay away from me.â
The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he canât believe what youâre saying.
But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows thereâs no coming back from this.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers, his voice hoarse. âIâm so sorry.â
Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction.Â
The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind.Â
The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesnât feel victorious. Instead, thereâs a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, âWhat now?â He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.
This time, he doesnât follow you.Â
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron au#rafe x reader#rafe angst#rafe cameron angst#angsty#just angst#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#i miss rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fic
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The world is so hostile to tweens.....
Like we joke about how our schools growing up would ban the latest toy trends, but that reality genuinely horrific when you think about it. Like maybe 1% of the bans were based on safety, but the rest cited reasoning like
-"kids were bartering for collectibles" (kids learning about economics and product value)
-"kids were wearing them and the colors were too flashy" (kids experimenting with self expression and fashion)
-"kids were playing with them during lunch and recess instead of using our rusted safety hazard playground" (kids utilizing their free time to do what helps *them* unwind).
Play areas specifically geared towards children and especially towards teens are constantly being shut down. "Oh kids today are always on their phones!" Maybe because
-there are barely any arcades left and even less arcades that aren't adult-oriented,
-public pools and gyms are underfunded and shut down,
-"no loitering" laws prevent kids and teens from just hanging out,
-movie theatres only play the latest films and ticket prices are only rising,
-parks and playgrounds are either neglected or replaced with gear only directed at toddlers and unsuitable for anyone older
-genuine children's and young teen media is being phased out in favour of media directed only at very small children or older teens and adults.
-suburbs and even cities are becoming more and more hostile to pedestrians, it's just not safe for kids to walk to or ride their bikes to their friends' houses or other play destinations
Children's agency is hardly ever respected. Kids between the ages of 9-13 are either treated as babies or as full-grown adults, with no in-between. When they ask to be given more independence, they are either scoffed at or given more responsibilities than are reasonable for a child their age.
This is even evident in the fashion scene.
Clothing stores and brands like Justice and Gap are either closing or rebranding to either exclusively adult clothing or young children's clothes, with no middle ground for tweens. Tweens have to choose between clothes designed for adults that are too large and/or too mature for their age and bodies, or more clothes they feel are far too childish. For tween girls especially it's either a frilly pinafore dress with pigtails or a woman's size dress with cleavage. No wonder tween girls these days dress like they're older, it's because their other option is little girl clothes and they don't want to feel childish.
And then when tweens go to school, the books they want to read aren't available because they cover "mature" topics (read: oh no two people kissed and they weren't straight or oh no menstruation was mentioned or oh no a religion other than Christianity is depicted), so kids are left with books for way below their reading level. No wonder kids today are struggling with literacy, it's because they can't exercise and expand their reading skills with age-appropriate books. Readers need to be challenged with new words and concepts in order to grow in their skills, only letting tween read Dr. Seuss and nursery rhymes doesn't let them learn.
Discussions about substance use, reproduction, and sexuality aren't taught at an age-appropriate level in school or even by children's parents, so they either grow up ignorant and more vulnerable to abuse, or they seek out information elsewhere that is delivered in a less-than-age-appropriate manner. It shouldn't be a coin-toss between "I didn't know what sex was until I was 18 and in college" or "my first exposure to sex as a tween was through porn" or "I didn't know what sex was so I didn't know I was being sexually abused as a kid."
Tweenhood is already such a volatile and confusing time for kids, their bodies are changing and they're transitioning from elementary to middle to high school. It's hard enough for them in this stage, but it's made worse by how society devalues and fails them.
We talk about the disappearance of teenagehood, and maybe that's gonna happen in the future, but the erasure of tweenhood is happing in real time, and it's having and going to have major consequences for next generation's adults.
#leftie shit#i guess#ageism#social issues#tweenhood#the disappearance of tweenhood#current events#relevant issues
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What Goes Around, Comes Around
prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school
word count: 6.7k+
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".
warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).
DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all
"That's fucking her, I swear to God."
"You sure?"
"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."
The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.
"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."
"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."
"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"
"Doubt it," Jake nodded.
"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."
"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"
"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"
"I mean - "
"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.
"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.
"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"
"No," Lawrence looked down.
"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"
Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.
So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...
Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.
"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.
"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"
"No? Why?"
"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."
"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."
"What's wrong?" Jason asked.
"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.
He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"
"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."
Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"
"What if their man isn't here?"
"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.
Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.
"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."
"Huh?" Law mumbled.
"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.
"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"
"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.
Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.
"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.
The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.
Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.
Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...
That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.
"Bitch has it coming!"
"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"
"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.
"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"
"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fĂştbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.
"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."
"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"
"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.
Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.
You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.
"I'm so sorry."
"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."
"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.
"Huh?"
"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."
"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"
"We're all in AP History with Snyder."
You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"
"Yeah," he breathed.
"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"
"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"
"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"
"Yeah, that's her."
You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"
"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."
"You did tonight."
"I should've done more a lot sooner."
"You could've been really hurt, Law."
"Like you?"
"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."
"I'm still sorry..."
You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.
"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.
"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"
"Why?"
"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."
"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.
"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."
You only sniffled.
"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.
"Hell happened to you, man?"
Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."
Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.
You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."
"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."
You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.
"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."
"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."
"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.
"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."
"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.
"You said Jake and Steven did this?"
"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."
"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "
"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.
"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.
"My sister's 'round, yeah..."
"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.
"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"
"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"
"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"
"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."
But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.
Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...
Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"
This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.
Billy raced back to you.
Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.
Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"
"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.
"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."
"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."
"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.
"What?"
"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."
Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.
Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.
The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.
His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.
You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.
Billy provided their assailantâs full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.
After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."
"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "
"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "
"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."
"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"
"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."
Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.
"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."
His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."
Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."
Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."
"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "
"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.
Then he asked, "When?"
"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."
"Kid - "
"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."
Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."
Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.
"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."
"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "
"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.
Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."
"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.
"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.
"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"
"Max?" You asked.
"Yeah, her. Nice girl."
"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.
"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."
Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"
"He and my dad go way back," you eased.
"All cops like him?"
"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."
"Baby, just - don't even start - "
"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "
"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."
Your head shook, but Billy continued,
"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."
"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."
"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."
You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.
By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.
"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.
Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.
A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.
Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.
The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.
Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.
Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.
You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.
"Hey, Bee?"
"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.
"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"
"Huh?"
"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."
He shrugged, "You need help."
"You don't ask if I do."
"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."
"Billy."
He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.
"Bullshit."
"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."
"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."
"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"
Your head cocked, "Why's that?"
"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "
"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "
You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
"William!"
"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.
You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."
"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."
"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"
He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."
"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"
"'Course I am - "
"Don't lie to me."
He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."
"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."
"I know."
"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."
"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"
"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.
"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "
"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"
He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."
"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."
Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"
"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"
"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."
"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."
Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."
"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.
"No, don't - "
"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."
"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."
"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."
He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."
"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."
He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."
"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."
"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.
"We good?" You whispered.
"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"
"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.
"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.
"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"
"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."
"I'm doing so much better, though!"
"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."
"He has one in two weeks."
"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."
You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"
"I've always been."
"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."
"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."
"Yes, sir."
requesting rules and masterlist
Stranger Things masterlist
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x f!reader#billy hargrove x female!reader#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove request#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things
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bragger, lando norris
summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.
warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:
IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! đĽ
y/n.updates
Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others
y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch đ
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fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this
fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol
fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha
user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her
fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste
fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always
fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando
fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol
fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?
y/n.y/l
Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others
y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it đ§Ąđ§Ąđ§Ą
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y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:
oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 𧥠â¤ď¸ by author
landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of herđĽşđĽş
fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING
y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since
fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)
user1 Well deserved đđźđđź
landofan3 soy lago
y/n.y/l same
lnfour LFGGGG â¤ď¸ by author
fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now
maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me
y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead đ
landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 â¤ď¸ by author
landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando đĽšđĽšđĽš
fan5 when did he say that? omg
landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!
mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER đ
y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?
user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?
fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews
user2 today's bottle smash hit different â¤ď¸ by author
landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much
y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you
y/n.y/l
Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others
y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! đđ
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fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??
y/n.y/l đŤ˘đŤ˘
fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her â¤ď¸ by author
landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!
landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........
landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?
y/n.y/l no idea đ¤ˇđ˝ââď¸ but let me know if you find out xx
landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure
fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM
fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg
fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't
user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. đĽ¸
fracisca.cgomes On repeat â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa â¤ď¸
landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better
fan7 so she saw the tweets... đ
y/n.y/l i saw everything đ they were actually hard to miss hahaha
user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! đđ
fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all
landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!đ¤Ł
fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a bangerđđźđđźđđź
#singer!reader#social media au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris smau
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Have we considered for modern aus Obi-Wan is just high charisma and British and isn't actually the Professor TM archetype. Now don't get me wrong, I Iove University Professor AUs. Never stop making professor Obi-Wan aus, but consider alternative professor Obi-Wan career path.
He's got street smarts, and he's witty, and yes he's smart. He picks up things. He speaks several languages, and can fix a hyperdrive jet engine(?). However, he would be so restless in an academic career.
Modern AU he is a man doing parkour well into his thirties and forties despite his knees. He knows how to fly a plane because an old friend taught him, but he doesn't have a pilot's licence. He has been in drag races but also hates driving because he doesn't feel safe on highways. He didn't graduate highschool because he and Qui-Gon were 'backpacking' (Qui-Gon's words) around the world during his teens but he got his GED eventually it's fine. He dropped out of university but says he went to X University when asked so people just assume he graduated. He was definitely in at least two bands during his early twenties.
When he takes in Anakin he becomes a university professor because it seems like a stable gig. He has no credentials and gets his position through charm, half-truths, and extremely good references. No one bothers to ask to see his degree. Anakin is an illegal immigrant. Obi-Wan probably didn't even have any sort of official custody. He has broken so many laws. He volunteers at temple and is well liked in his community.
He does get Anakin's legal status straightened out eventually (somehow without being arrested), but Anakin doesn't go to actual school until grade nine.
Obi-Wan teaches law. It's always good to know the law when you break it so much.
#obi-wan kenobi#kenobi#Anakin Skywalker#skywalker#fanfiction#modern au#Obi-Wan has a rolladex of i know a guys#he's basically a conartist#hes the most fascinating man but also a loser somehow#ymmv#just for fun
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Heâs staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people donât just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, âI need to talk to you,â Eddie thinks heâs entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
âYou? Talk? To me?â Wow. Great job, brain.
âPlease,â Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except heâs good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harringtonâs eyes.
âOkay,â he says, stammers. âUm. There- thereâs, behind the school, a, uh-â
âTable,â Harrington nods. âThat works. JustâŚâ he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. âLeave the lunchbox at home.â
Eddieâs eyebrows hit his hairline. âThen what the fuck do you want with me, dude?â
âI canât explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?â
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. Heâs scared. âOkay,â he says, and means it.
Eddieâs a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harringtonâs already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. âYou sure you donât want anything from the lunchbox?â
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. âNo. I- Iâm good. I canât, actually.â
Eddie frowns. âWhat, like, a sports thing? No oneâs gotta know, dude, Iâve never been busted, I can keep a secret.â
Steve gives him a half-smile. âNo. Itâs- itâs not a sports thing. Just⌠sit down? And promise to listen?â
âOkay,â Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and heâs not a dick; clearly Harringtonâs going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesnât know.
âOkay,â Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. âIf I were to tell you Iâm from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?â
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. âUm. I dunno, man, I havenât really thought about it.â
He takes another deep breath. âCan I try?â
âTo- to prove youâre from the future?â
âYeah.â
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. âMan, where the fuck do I get the strain youâre on?â
He blinks. âWhat?â
Eddie gestures at him. âCome on, man, you have to admit youâre not really making sense here.â
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, âYou live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your momâs favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when Iâve said enough.â
Eddieâs never been more scared in his life. âListen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-â
âEddie,â he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
âWhat the fuck,â Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself itâs a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
âIâm from 1987,â Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. âAnd Iâm trying to stop something terrible.â
âAnd what would that be?â Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
âYour death,â Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
#if I should stay#do I need to be starting another wip?#no#do I need help?#yes. probably#will I get any?#hahahahaha no.#probably not#anyways I donât know why Steve went back in time. weâre gonna figure it out as we go along#or we wonât#this is my excuse to write Steddie#and to write Eddie into the script earlier than he actually was#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#starambles
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physical affection and how it relates to iruma: part 1, parental touch
iruma reads as someone who is touch starved and doesn't like/understand touch until he now has affectionate people in his life. His parents have probably never touched him besides the required amount when he was a baby and maybe a headpat or quick hug (which would more than likely just be a manipulation tactic to get him to do their crazy schemes). They left him alone for days on end, there's no way they even could have been affectionate with him. And it's not like he ever went to school, his "friends" at school couldn't even remember him because of how many days he missed.
Overall, Iruma reads as touch starved but doesn't know he's missing it since he never had it to begin with. Here comes the love trio, the misfit class, Balam and more. Suddenly he has a lot of people in his life who are comfortable with touching him, even want to as a sign of how close they are. And we can see iruma very much becomes happy with it in turn.
That's why Balam and iruma's relationship is important, a parental type person he trusts is actively choosing to be affectionate with him, not to manipulate him but just because he cares about iruma. He even told him the reason is just to bond and get to know iruma, not some sort of underhanded method. This is just Balam's way of connecting. And they are close to each other enough to be comfortable in each other's spaces. Whether Iruma reads balam as a parent or not, balam is very much like a momma bird, keeping him close and safe in his arms. And Iruma becomes more open to it as time goes on with them knowing more about the other.
This is also a great dynamic because balam gives him the affection that he doesn't recieve from kalego, someone he clearly holds in high regard. Almost every time iruma reflects on the people that matter the most to him, kalego is there. which i find fascinating because what is kalego to iruma? on a subconscious level, i think he views kalego as a parental figure to him as well, one of the first to give him clear and concise rules to follow. his parents were just a fucking mess, they barely parented. never really taught him life lessons besides "just say yes" and "run." Kalego clearly cares a lot while also helping iruma navigate the netherworld making it easy for him to project a father role onto kalego
But kalego isn't an affectionate man from what we have seen. And even if he was, he is his instructor first and foremost so he may not feel comfortable being so with iruma (and also imagine the fucking annoying comments about favoritism from the other misfits LOL). Any touching has been fairly limited to him picking up Iruma like during the teacher dorm visits and Kalego's final hours as a familiar. Which honestly make these few scenes even more precious. Because he is actively choosing to be like this with Iruma. Affection does not come easy to Kalego like it does Balam. More than likely because of his upbringing and family beliefs (always needing to remain vigilant, dignified) and him as a person. So while he doesn't touch Iruma often, his one on one moments with him are extremely personal and parental in nature. And when he does interact with Iruma physically, the rarity adds to the specialness.
And then there's Opera. Opera has been especially more affectionate in the latest volumes with hand holding and hugs and all sort of touching. Which is very wholesome to see because Opera wasn't a character that had much of a strong relationship with Iruma at the beginning besides guarding him. I always got the impression that Opera didn't know how to feel about him, not to say they wouldn't protect him with everything they have. But the feelings and affection started up after the battler/batra Party when Iruma grabbed both Sullivan and Opera (though the care for him had been growing steadily before that). I have seen two main headcannons for their relationship, some see it more as a big sibling relationship while others see it as a parental one as well. For the sake of this post, I will be using it as a parent and child one.
Opera has been right there with Sullivan watching Iruma grow more and more confident as time goes on. And through Iruma growing up, we see how proud of him Opera is. From a scared child to a more bold child, Opera has helped cultivate this in him. I also love that whenever Sullivan isn't around, Opera takes over for taking care of him, allowing the two to have solo family time. Obviously their relationship is more of a weird dynamic seeing as how Opera is a security devil, but that doesn't stop the story from developing their relationship. The physical affection for the two is started from both sides, Iruma hugging Opera or Opera holding out their hand to hold as they walk home. In this case, their relationship is the most parent like as the story progresses.
And finally, we have Sullivan who is the most affectionate of the four. Come on, you can't beat grandpa when it comes to love and devotion to Iruma. He is the first one to introduce Iruma to physical affection in the first place. Now granted, in a slightly overbearing way at first because Iruma is not used to this and Sullivan is too happy to have a grandson. But now, we can see the genuineness behind each of his interactions with Iruma. He very much acts like a doting grandfather, and he really does love him too. Touching clearly comes more naturally to him so it's his way of showing Iruma love which opened the doors for more people in Iruma's life to show this too. When Iruma first started touching Sullivan back at the battler/batra party, it highlighted that Iruma is now more comfortable with Sullivan to do so back. He has been taught by Sullivan this way of caring and cares about him in the same way too. There's a lot of mutual love.
They have come a long way as a family unit. Sure, grandpa has always been Iruma's number one supporter, but at the beginning of the story it felt way too over the top? As the audience we were right there besides Iruma in feeling overwhelmed by Sullivan. This far into the story though, the emotional trust they have in each other is beautiful. They are no longer just two individuals thrown together by fate, they are two people who care about the other and their weird little family. And its even more wonderous when we think about Sullivan's past, having lost someone deeply close to him and has no way of knowing if he'll ever return (aka Delkira). From what we know, it seemed that Sullivan truly loved him like a son/grandson/family member and loosing him is still something he's grappling over. And yet, he was still able to create this, push through his pain to make a family with Iruma. He's not a replacement for what he lost, but somone he allows himself to care about in a similar way in the past. By pushing through the trauma, he has been able to give Iruma what he never had in his past life.
I see both Balam, Kalego, and Opera as parents who provide him with different styles of parenting (with grandpa also providing that but also being a "ill give you anything you want" guardian hehe). Through this, he can learn varied viewpoints and, more importantly to this post, the affection he never had as a child. Does it make up for never having grown up with it? No, it never could. But it's not about making up for what it lost, rather its about making new connections and love with what you have now. And displaying that love in small and bigger ways with touch.
#iruma-kun#mairimashita! iruma kun#welcome to demon school iruma kun#m!ik#balam shichirou#naberius kalego#opera iruma#m!ik sullivan#iruma sullivan#touchstarved#character analysis#relationship dynamics
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Clockwork | Park Sunghoon
Vampire!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader
Summary: âIf thereâs one thing stronger than your need to feast,â You lift that hand up once again, â-its your need to fuck."
Warnings: Language, Implied Violence, Dark Fic, Morally Ambiguous!Reader, Blackmail, Reader has a crush, Librarian!Reader, Implied age gap, Confrontation, Smut (+18) mdni, Blood Kink, Biting, Sadism, Masochism, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!Reader, public sex, dub/Con, fingering, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Ownership kink, Pain Kink, Marking, Dumbification, Dacryphilia
Idek yallâŚ
They are such stuff as monsters are made of.
That is the very last thing you are taught about Sunghoon.
That he is something to fear.
Predatory.
Killer.
But all you saw and all youâll ever see is the boy casted in the shadows of library bookshelves. This is the setting that births your obsession- no- your love for him.
Every Thursday afternoon.
When the library has cleared out.
The only time heâs not with his family. The only time heâs alone.
Like clockwork.
âWhat do we have here?â A phrase you were obligated to say. Not many townsfolk valued literature and those that did, as per your boss, âneeded to find every reason to come back.â Even if that meant mustering a robotic sunshine smile. As if you were a cashier at Starbucks and not a small town librarian.
How you managed to speak so coherently with Sunghoon looming on the other side of the desk remains a complete and utter mystery. If you were driven, otherwise, by the bundle of love knots in your stomach you might have stuttered foolishly and squeaked your way through scanning his books.
âBooks.â He answers curtly, brusquely, leaving absolutely no room for further conversation- or interrogation, as it would apparently appear.
Sunghoon is not looking at you. His eyes - those endless golden voids-, are looking down at the mahogany desk you are standing on the opposite side of. You wish for more than anything to feel that otherworldly feeling of having those golden eyes focused completely on you.
What must that feel like?
To have Sunghoonâs sole, undivided attention.
You would soon have the unfortunate pleasure of finding out.
âW-Well I know theyâre books,â You continue, stating this with an airy, light chuckle. A chuckle that indicated this conversation should have been over a long time ago and that youâre blatantly aware of that. Why arenât you keeping your mouth shut?
âI mean- Well I just mean, you know itâs not everyday a 20 year old takes out,â You glance down at the book in your hands before sending it through the system, âWuthering Heights?â Your brows furrow as you send a second one of his books through the scanner, âTurn of The Screw?â And the final, âFrankenstein-Mary Shelley?"
You quirk a questioning eyebrow up at him- one silently inquiring âwhat the fuckâs up with the archaic books, grandpa?â But he, of course, is not sparing you a single glance.
Or wait- he does. But for the briefest moment.
"I enjoy literature.â It almost makes you keel over in inexplicable discomfort, the way the words were chewed on before they were forcibly spat out. You can see he is done entertaining your mindless spiel but for some weird, fucking stupid reason, youâre not done with him.
âWell yeah, sure. But I mean, the dust on these books are ageless, you must be the first man to borrow these in like, 40 million years-â
â21.â It is all he says. One little word that cuts your rant short like a heated knife. You glance up at him, hoping those dazzling eyes look down at you.
And they do.
Bloody, fucking, Christ. They do.
âYou said 20. Iâm 21.â Before you were about to ask how that could be the case- how Sunghoon could be older than you when you distinctly remember finishing high school the same year?
He decides to shock you.
âI got⌠held back a year. I was already supposed to have graduated.â You are not sure whether itâs the sprinkle of rain that has begun falling. Whether it was the weight of the impenetrable fact that Sunghoon fucking Park has just spoken to you more words than heâs ever said your entire high school career. Or whether-and this may exactly be it-you were affected by those blazing eyes that glided backup to look at you.
Not golden.
Blazing.
For the golden hues have simmered into something darker. Theyâve literally bled into a darker shade of the gold-almost yellow hues in his eyes. The breath completely escapes your throat. This time he does not look away.
âR-Right. Of course. Sorry.â You had nothing to be sorry for. How could you ever have known any of Sunghoonâs and his weird friendsâ ages when the only people they directly interacted with were the teachers and themselves? You could never have known Sunghoon was 21 and therefore did not need to apologise but⌠those eyes⌠they made you sorry.
âItâs just-â why the fuck, after everything, after all of that, is your mouth still moving? Itâs like this was your only opportunity of bravery. Your only window letting through a sliver of courage before you would retreat in on yourself for the rest of your waning time in this town. Moving amongst the books like a spectre before you ran off to college.
This was your only opportunity.
âWell theyâre all Victorian.â You finally let those words tumble out of your mouth.
You hear the sharp intake of breath.
âBronte, James, Shelley.â You slide the books to him. âAll Victorian⌠is this pattern the product of some trend Iâm missing out on?â You chuckle lightly at the end of that, hoping to wrench one out of him too but you knew that was an impossible feat. Still, the chuckle drains down your throat when you hand him his books. Your fingers, still encircled around the hardbacks, brush over him accidentally.
âJesus, are you cold?â
He pulls away quickly, evading eye contact like youâd turn him to stone. Evading your touch like your skin scorched his. âItâs raining. I-I could give you a ride-â
Sunghoon gulps visibly. In the span of a single conversation, those dark-golden eyes have stayed firmly on you but now they are prying you apart.
âThat wonât be necessary.â He says, swallowing thickly once more.
âOf course.â You wave him off, immediately overcome by the embarrassment of your own presumptuous nature. Sunghoon's gaze drifts down to the books once more.
No. You canât afford the dismissal. You canât bear the non-verbal rejection any longer.
The faucet that is your mouth, just continues spewing.
âVampires arenât usually the ones being offered a ride, are they?â You turn your head, focusing on the raindrops shooting pellets at the tall library window. Your gaze appears far away but thatâs what you want him to think. In your periphery, you see his eyes snap up from the mahogany desk with his head following; enough to make those dark strands bounce in surprise. You know you finally have him.
âIâm the victim,â You continue basking in the attention. Retaining more satisfying heat from his gaze alone than the husky fluorescent buzzing above you both. You are suddenly all too aware that the library is deserted.
âIâm supposed to be coaxed into your car. Thatâs how it works right? Like Bundy."
You lazily swing your gaze back from the window until you meet his eyes that have bled into an even darker shade of gold. So dark the gold has vanished completely, actually, leaving two soulless depths. His eyes scream, âhow do you know?â
His jaw is tightened like screws and his fist is clenched so tight it should spout blood.
But there is no blood, is there? Dead things lose all of that.
"I donât know what youâre talking about-â You lift a hand up. Right there, right in front of his stone face, silencing him immediately.
âThat dance gets a little bit tedious, doesnât it?â You laugh loudly into the hollow air filled with nothing but raindrops and thunder. âA little bit boring?â You give him a smirk. âI know one thing your little family specialises in isn't boredom.â
You make the unforeseen move of stepping back from your computer, slowly making a show of sauntering around the desk. Sunghoon's dark irises track you like a sniper and you revel in it.
You must stop your hands from fisting at your own sides.
You must maintain the little control you have, or it might just cost you your life.
âYou're wrong,â he says, âThe books. Theyâre not all Victorian.â
Heâs stalling. Deflecting. Trying to distract himself from your nearing frame.
âFrankenstein,â he continues, âShelley published it in 1818, thatâs just short of the start of Victoriaâs reign.â
You give him a small, tight-lipped smile.
âHm. You would know though, wouldnât you?â
He is pulled into silence.
âBut back to your little lie.â Your path is set and your mind is made. âVampire's daylighting as average university students? Thatâs a good fucking story.â You nod slowly, âA good fucking story.â You take small, tentative strides closer to him. Not wanting to engage too quickly. Sunghoon was big, tall and looming. Having that kind of frame tense- more tense than he already is, would only result in a blood bath. Your blood bath.
âEveryone at school, everyone in this town thinks youâre all so goddamn close but you wanna know what I think?â You saunter closer and he inhales sharply.
âNo.â
You tsk and click your tongue, not stopping your calm gait whatsoever until his scent completely enveloped you. So empty and⌠dead.
A smell that canât be masked by the most expensive cologne and yet you enjoyed it. It made your blood race and if what you knew was true, then he could hear the erratics of your heart as well. You wanted him to.
âSee, Hoonie-â
âSunghoon.â
âHoonie. Why else would you be entertaining this nonsense?â You continue moving closer until his back is pressed against the wooden desk, looking down at you with a near pitch black abyss. You look up at him, feigning innocent doe eyes as you pressed your voluminous chest against him. You dare even let your hand drift over his black, cotton sweater.
âI could-â Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed before he snaps them open again. âI could hurt you. But you know that, donât you?â A finger slips itself under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
Or so you thought.
He continues to lift your chin until you were looking up at the fluorescent light. Then, and only then, did you understand that he was baring your neck to him.
âAw, Sunghoon.â You chastise lightly, still letting him do with you as you please. Unbeknownst to him, you were leaning in closer, letting your hand slip onto the desk behind him until you found just what you were looking for.
Letter opener.
âIâm counting on you to hurt me, Silly.â
You finally pull back, before he can lower himself further in-before he could go in for the kill.
You aim the sharp two-edged blade of the letter opener into your left palm and, with all the reserve in the world, you cut a long, shallow gash all the way in.
The very second your palm stains crimson, Sunghoon's entire build begins to shake. His chest begins to heave uncontrollably. His face is perfectly the same but somehow you still hear the hungry tufts of air leaving his nostrils, even over the raging rain outside and you smile.
âTrust me.â You say,
âIâm counting on you hurting me,â
âYouâre really goddamn stupid, you know that?â He says cockily, feigning his control when his pitch black eyes are a dead giveaway. The pupils are trained on the beoken skin along your palm and that alone. The blood has begun dripping aimlessly down your palm and you hold it up to him, showing him his prize. Showing him everything heâs been missing.
"Maybe I am. Maybe Iâm crazy and stupid.â You discard the letter opener on the carpet beside you. It clunks to the ground and you let out a little sigh.
âYou can go ahead and bite me Sung-â You might not explicitly be on a nickname basis, but you figured now was as good a time as any to familiarise yourself with each other, since-
âYouâre gonna turn me."
Sunghoon finally rips his onyx eyes away from the dripping crimson faucet and he stares down at you questioningly.
"Why would I do that?â Some hair has fallen in front of his left eye but he makes no move to brush it away, so naturally, you do it for him⌠using your bleeding left hand.
âWell⌠because youâre you. And self restraint isnât very you, Sunghoon.â You tuck the dark strand, now stained lightly with your blood, behind his ear and you begin to trail your hand slowly down the side of his face. Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed and he leans, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, right into your bleeding grip. He turns his head sideways and inhales sharply.
âI knew it.â You marvel at the boy before you. âSure it was just a theory but- it all fell serendipitously into place: The absent days when itâs sunny out. The deathly paleness. The untouched lunch trays. The old ass books that probably give away your real age.â His eyes are still closed and he is still moving his cheek against your bleeding hand. He hums unintelligibly.
âThe ice cold skin was my final check.â
âHow clever.â
He produces the first smile youâve ever seen and the beauty of it releases a wave of endorphins and butterflies in your gut. âYou want a cookie for that?â He has a dangerously gorgeous lopsided grin that, coupled with the gleaming, pointed canines that have emerged, leaves your pulse quickening in more places than your heart.
âWhatâs to stop me from ripping you open right now? Thereâs no one here. No one will be here in time to stop me from killing you.â He turns to look at you and you almost gasp at how severely sexy your smeared blood on his cheek looks.
âGive me reasons.â He urges with his voice bouncing off the walls.
âI need reasons or-â his eyes flutter closed â-or I just might do it. I will kill you.â
You needed to maintain control. But in that moment you knew and feared that you and him were beginning to realise that your dominant reserve was slipping right through your fingers. It was your turn in the hot seat. Okay.
You got what you wanted. Find out what you needed to find out. But all that came at a price.
You try to keep your voice steady as you answer him.
âAs much as it annoys you and me, Sunghoon, it is a fact that you wanna fit in with everyone else.â Sunghoon's eyes never leave yours as you continue talking. âYou probably never really had a home and this town allows you to blend in with the rest of us.â He breathes deeply through his nose. âKilling the bookkeeper would put this little fantasy life you've built for yourself in jeopardy,â Your breathing is irregular and harsh and you look at his lips and oh god you need to taste him.
âBut youâre still you, Sunghoon. This town canât and never will change that fact. Youâre not like the rest of us,â You finally say, âYouâre not-â
In a blur and manipulation of time, space and all the little things in between, youâve been transported with a swift dash across the room until you were being held by the throat against a bookshelf. Pain stems from the sudden and rapid movement but the firm and unwavering squeeze on your throat, elicits a wave of lust.
âIâm done playing your little mind games.â Heâs seething and heâs angry and heâs right where you want him.
âOh? But we were having so much fun, Sung-â He squeezes your windpipe, so incredibly close to crushing it.
âWhat do you want?â
You let the first ever genuine smile slip onto your face.
âFor you to turn me, Hoonie."
He pauses. Quite literally.
Sunghoon's rapid breathing goes to a complete stand still and his form goes as still as a statue. You deduce that this is him thinking. Heâs mapping out all the possible shit storms this would conjure up for him and his precious family and you hold the will to roll your eyes. After a few stunted seconds, Sunghoon eases back again.
"Once I start-â
âYou wonât stop? Sunghoon, weâve been eye fucking this entire time. I'm not sure what it is about Blackmail that gets you off but it's not difficult to see how bad you need it.â He squeezes your throat again in warning, already telling you all you need to know.
He's not sure why he's attracted to you. He shouldn't be. Whether its the fact that you should already be dead for even knowing his secret- for thinking you can offee him an ultimatimatum- its your sheer fucking guts that has him warming with attraction.
Your words slowly bring him up for air. âIf thereâs one thing stronger than your need to feast,â You lift that hand up once again, â-its your need to fuck. Vampires are immortal so they draw pleasure from the little things. The pleasurable things. That bulge in your pants canât go unnoticed, Sunghoon, no matter how long you want it t-â
Sunghoon rolls his eyes before he murmurs: âJust shut up,â
He crashes his lips right onto yours. The kiss is not only electric but itâs magnetic. As if you would not be able to pull away even if you wanted to. And his firm grip on your throat keeps you there. Itâs strong and he squeezes as he licks on your bottom lip, coaxing the opening out of you. So naturally, you moan, and the bastard uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.
You neednât open your eyes to see he was half-smiling into your kiss. That little nugget of information made you need him even more. During your kiss, you squeeze your legs together. Sunghoon hums disapprovingly in your mouth, sending his other hand down your thigh, urging them apart.
âYou canât do that.â He breaks the kiss and says the words at a perfectly even breathe, meanwhile you were a heaving mess.
âWhat?â You inquire dumbly, all too focused on his hand on your jeans to rather give a fuck about anything else.
âPathokinesis.â Is all he says before he ducks down into the crook of your neck, ripping the gasp out of your lungs by force. His large hand around your throat moves up to your cheek, rubbing the skin with his thumb softly.
âDonât do that.â He says into your neck before venturing to flick his tongue out, licking the skin and driving you all too insane. You almost donât register his words but the weight of his revelation has you tumbling to your senses momentarily.
âWhat? So you can like-â
âSense and manipulate your emotions?â He says, coming up from your neck. âYeah.â He nods once before he takes your mouth in his once more.
âWhat you feel,â he mumbles in between the kiss, âI feel too."
Yet another gasp strains your throat when you feel two sharp teeth graze against the skin of your plump bottom lips as Sunghoon pulls away.
Have you really thought any of your movements through?
What if sex with a vampire was fatal?
Youâre about to spiral into oblivion before Sunghoon speaks up.
"No.â He says curtly, and youâre all too aware of the hand trying to push past your denim jeans. âYouâre not pulling back on me now. Not after everything.â Youâre in awe of his words.
âJesus, so you really can feel everything.â
That life threatening smile again.
âPretty much.â
He begins to undo the buttons of your pants tentatively, almost meticulously, as if you were fortunate to have all the time in the world. Youâre about to urge him to hurry the fuck up but one of the shelves behind your head collapses. Books fall to a sad heap on the floor and the wood is snapped in tiny pieces. Sunghoon's hand was leaning against that particular shelf.
Maybe heâs not as calm as heâd like to convey.
âThere is one thing,â the buttons are undone but heâs stopped moving his fingers. They are in fact paused on the lining of your underwear. The material is calmly in between his index and thumb, creating the sickest, most twisted need youâve ever felt. You almost abandon modesty and grind into him right then and there.
His next words however, have you almost wanting to keel over in grief.
âIâm not gonna fuck you,â he says with a sick smile.
âWhy?â It's all you can manage and suddenly, you think the universe must be smiling at the irony of this situation. The encounter had begun with You as the master of this blackmail, yet here you were, grovelling for him.
âI think youâre really good at getting what you want,â he says, leaning forward and slowly, oh so slowly, letting his hand slip into the fabric. The graze of his fingers on you cunt alone making you almost sob out in need.
âAnd Iâm not gonna allow that.â He concludes before pushing his hand all the way in. Sunghoon does nothing but snicker when he feels the pool of wetness.
âThis is how this is gonna work,â he uses his free hand to pick up your limp left one. The wound is of considerable size however, the blood is not flowing as much but itâs still there.
âYouâre gonna give me this.â He lifts your limp hand up and you comply like a puppet on a string. âAnd Iâm gonna give you this.â His fingers-the index and the middle,- flick over your clit, causing you to let out an aching whimper.
âGot it?â Heâs already placing your bloody palm against his plump lips and youâre too enamoured. Too enamoured at the sight of his tongue sticking out and lapping at the blood as if it were a healing potent. Youâre too enamoured to respond and he does not like this one bit.
Sunghoon flicks another finger against your clit.
âJESUS!â You scream into the empty library. Sunghoon, whoâs eyes were closed, shoots open and he hums disapprovingly.
âNo,â he says irritably, âSunghoon. Say Sunghoon.â
Youâre a drunken, sex filled mess. âFuck-Sunghoon.â He smiles, satisfied, before returning to your palm. You begin to grind into his fingers and his chuckles.
âSung⌠Sunghoon please.â There are tears staining your eyes and youâre so completely torn apart. The thrill of it being in a public setting. The rain. The licking on your palm. Itâs too much.
Way too fucking much.
âPlease? Please let you finish?â Sunghoon asks mockingly and a sob releases from your throat as your hips begin to buck into his hands. âYouâd like me to let you cum all over my hand?â
âPlease, Hoonie. Please.â
âThatâs a shameâŚâ He replies, âI thought we were having so much fun.â You do not even have the strength to act stunned at having your words being flung back at you, youâre too focused on the fingers that have slipped inside of you and the hissing noise escaping Sunghoon's throat.
Itâs all so unbelievable. Sunghoon pulls back and hisses loudly. Your heart stops at the sight of his canines elongating even further but that all falls away when he sinks them further into your palm. Biting down.
Hard.
âHoon..â You're completely out of it. The fingers slide in and out and in and out, searching rapidly for your g-spot, but in the very same breath, thereâs a sharp, bright and blinding pain in your left palm, letting the tears fall as they may.
âFuck, Sunghoon! Oh god! It hurts! It hurts so fucking bad!â Youâre sobbing but his fingers inside you are relentless and his sucking, even more so. You feel like nothing but an object of his pleasure as your hand begins to grow numb. Sure he was bringing you to orgasm, the very same time you felt even that was for his own pleasure.
Never had you experienced a pain quite like this. This pain felt otherworldly. Diabolical. As if someone were ripping the nails right out of your fingers. As if you slammed the car door in on your hand repeatedly.
And the pain. God, the pain is white and bright, you fear passing out may be inevitable.
Sunghoon brings his head up, releasing his fangs from your palm but continuing his assault by licking and sucking on the two indents. âI know, my beautiful, beautiful girl,â he says, âI know."
The sobs stop, perhaps because you want to hear his voice. Perhaps because you feed on his praises. "Youâre so beautiful, you know that?â he mutters unsoundly in between his licks, âSo pretty, so perfect.â You realise heâs as delirious as you, his eyes are wide, gazing down at the madwoman before him with his own madness swirling in his irises. His lips are stained red and somehow that sets you over the edge.
âHoonie?â
His eyes are red. Blood red. You gasp. âIâm-â You donât finish the sentence, already feeling your orgasm crest as you carelessly fling yourself over the edge. It hits you and you forget all about the pain. All about the blood.
âThatâs it, my pretty, pretty girl.â He encourages and your body is shaking violently against the book rack. Your eyes are screwed shut and youâre rocking uncontrollably into his hand.
In that moment, Sunghoon may have thought that he gained everything, but you gained far more. And when you come out of that high, once the fog cleared and the rain simmered down to a tiny, light pitter patter.
You begin to feelâŚ
New.
âWelcome to immortality, Beautiful.â He whispers in your ear with that recognizable lopsided smirk.
You feel⌠empty. Drained. You feel nothing at all.
âPopulation⌠Youâ
#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon#park sunghoon smut#enhypen x black reader#enhypen headcanons#sunghoon x black!reader#park sunghoon x black!reader
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