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whytheylosttheirminds · 4 months ago

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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 7

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 6.7k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! non-descriptive mentions of vomit

A swing and a miss, again.

Rafe’s game was all over the place, he hadn’t been able to focus in batting practice all week, and now it was the bottom of the ninth in Academy’s rivalry match against Kildare County. He was down in the count when he asked the ump for a timeout.

He had resisted the urge to look in the stands the whole game, afraid he knew what he would find, or rather, what he wouldn’t.

You usually sat behind the dugout, wearing his old jersey that he’d given you after his record-breaking freshman season, and his number in black eyeliner on either cheek. Sometimes, it would take a few days for it to wash off, and you’d show up to school with the hint of his number still faded on your skin.

No one - not his coaches, not his teammates, certainly not his father - could read him like you could. Sometimes he’d pop his head out of the dugout between innings so you could tell him his swing was a few seconds too early for the pitcher’s fastball, or that he needed to stop chasing the backdoor slider. You were never wrong.

They’d tease him in the dugout, tossing sunflower seeds at him and taunting, “what is she, your hitting coach or your wife?” Then he’d ignore you for a few innings, though he almost never got on base without checking in with you first.

Your absence from this game was glaring, one of those same teammates taunting, “can someone please get Cameron’s hitting coach on the phone for fuck’s sake?” after his third strikeout.

He’d brushed it off, but now the game was on the line, and he realized he’d endure any amount of teasing if it meant looking up and seeing you in the stands.

He stepped out of the batter’s box, took a deep breath, and craned his neck to your usual seat, hands gripping the bat tighter when his fear was confirmed - it was empty.

He struck out, and they lost the game.

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It’s actually about to happen, the moment you’d wished for on every star, every eyelash, every birthday candle since you were six years old. The moment you never thought would actually come. You’ve played this scene in your mind a million times, what your first kiss with Rafe would be like. None of the many versions took place in an alley behind a Florida nightclub, but none of them were real either, so now was not the time to be picky.

Rafe’s thumb was still lingering on your bottom lip, the rest of his long fingers caressing your jaw.

“Can I? Please?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, dimples creasing his cheeks so handsomely, and leaned in. You realized you were holding your breath as you awaited the first brush of his lips against yours.

It never came. The door to the club slammed open, making you both jump. Your already thumping heart flew to your throat as Kelce stumbled out the large metal door.

“Woah, sorry,” he jumped back, smirking at the sight of you and Rafe pulling away from each other quickly.

“What could you possibly need from me right now?” Rafe said, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in warning.

“I came out here to find her,” Kelce pointed at you. “So calm your ass down.”

“What is it, Kelce?” You asked gently, hand on Rafe’s arm to hold him back as he started stepping menacingly toward his friend.

“Something’s wrong with Carter,” Kelce said.

“What?!” Your face flooded with concern, you started toward the club, and Rafe didn’t stop you, knowing the sound of your sister’s name dashed any hope he had of keeping you in this alleyway.

“What happened?” You asked Kelce as you brushed past him back into the crowded club, Rafe following behind the two of you.

“I don’t know, she got into an argument with Top and then she stormed off,” Kelce shouted over the thundering music as he struggled to keep up with you.

You scanned the whole club, but couldn’t find her, just Topper ranting emphatically to Tom in the corner, and Sabrina and Maddie on either side of the bathroom door, trying to talk to someone on the other side.

Kelce and Rafe were lost to the crowd as you beelined toward the bathroom, forcefully pushing angry clubbers out of the way to get there. You didn’t care, you were locked-in on finding your sister.

“Is she in there?” You asked as you approached the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Maddie confirmed, looking worried, and a little queasy. “But she won’t let anyone in.”

“She’s so wasted it’s crazy,” Sabrina added with a hiccuping giggle.

You ignored her lack of concern for your sister and banged loudly on the door.

“Car? It’s me,” you shouted, “you gotta let me in, alright? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

After a moment, and the thought that you’d break this fucking door down if that’s what it took, the handle finally turned. She opened the door just a crack to let you slip through, and closed it back firmly behind you.

Sabrina wasn’t wrong, Carter’s intoxication was written all over her face. Flushed, clammy skin and bloodshot eyes. She threw her arms around you, squeezing tight enough to knock the wind out of you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You asked nervously.

Before you got an answer, she was on her knees in front of the toilet bowl. You rushed to grab her hair and hold it back, getting it all out of the way with just seconds to spare before she got sick.

Thinking through the day's events, you realized no one had eaten much before you left the house, and you knew this group well enough to know it didn’t take much for them to get hammered. What you didn’t know was that while you were distracted with Rafe, the rest of your group was in the club throwing back drinks and racking up tabs like the world was ending.

Rafe was having a similar realization out on the floor, trying to wrangle everyone to the front door where he had a pair of cabs waiting. He physically dragged Topper away from the bar as he demanded another drink, the bartender shouting that he was cutoff. He led Maddie and Sabrina away from some sketchy looking guys who were inviting them back to their house boat, which they proudly advertised held gallons of their homemade moonshine. He stopped Tom from sucker punching a guy who booed when the DJ played a Drake song. He lost Kelce twice.

Once he had finally corralled everyone into the cars, he convinced the drivers to hold up so he could come back and find you. He stood by the bathroom door until you appeared behind it, jumping at the sight of him standing so close.

“I got cabs waiting,” he yelled over the music, eyeing Carter sprawled out on the dirty bathroom floor behind you.

“I can’t get her up,” you told him defeatedly, eyebrows knit together with worry. “She’s not doing good.”

Rafe brushed past you without a word or a second thought, and leaned down to scoop Carter up with ease, fireman carrying her out of the club like your own personal Superman. You followed closely on his heel, feeling guilty that you were thinking about how strong his shoulders looked and not how concerned you were for your sister.

You opened the door so he could lower her into the first cab, which only had enough seats left for you and her. Once you slid in behind her, leaning her head against Maddie, who was already dozing off with her forehead pressed on the window, Rafe made sure you were settled before closing the door.

He motioned for you to roll down the window, ducking down so he could lean on it.

“Yo Rafe let’s go man!” Topper yelled from the cab behind you before Rafe could speak.

“Give me a fucking second!” He yelled back.

Forearms against the window sill, he leaned in close enough so only you could hear.

“Just, um, don’t stop thinking what you were thinking in the alley.”

Your lips twisted into a smirk, “couldn’t if I tried.”

He gave you a wink before hurrying back to the other cab.

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You didn’t stop thinking about it. You didn’t stop when the cab driver took the wrong turn and made the trip twice as long as it should’ve been. You didn’t stop when Carter asked the driver to pull over every five minutes so she could hurl on the side of the interstate. You didn’t stop when you finally got Carter up to her room, ranting incoherently about her argument with Topper. You didn’t stop as she kneeled in front of the toilet bowl again and you held her hair back, attempting to soothe her with gentle shushes.

You should’ve been focused on your sister and the awful night she was having, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the shape of Rafe’s mouth.

The thing that finally pulled you from your thoughts of him was a sight you hadn’t seen in almost a decade; Carter started to cry.

Carter never cried, she was your rock, the shoulder for you and all her friends to cry on. She didn’t cry when she fell off the monkey bars in third grade and broke her arm, or when she was rejected from her dream school, or even when your parents got divorced. But here she was, on the cold tile of the Airbnb bathroom floor, bawling.

“Hey, hey, woah,” you said, alarm ringing in your mind as you rushed to sit beside her on the cold tile floor. “What’s going on?”

“I’m such a mess,” she gasped between sobs.

“Well, for starters we need to get you a makeup wipe,” you countered.

“No I mean, like, emotionally,” she wiped her tears with the backs of her hands, only for a new round of drops to fall and further streak her mascara down her skin.

Your sister spent her life running from difficult emotions. It was something you tried to gently point out to her many times, but she’d typically push it away with a sarcastic joke or just ignore you altogether.

You started therapy about a month after you got to college, taking the university health center up on its free psych eval offerings for freshmen. You’d shown up to your therapist’s office every Wednesday at 2:30 since then, religious about not missing a session.

You recommended Carter do the same, but she’d just brush you off with a teasing, “nah I don’t need all that, I’m supposed to be the normal one, remember?”

Taking the hint, you stopped bringing it up after a few months. But now, with Carter’s tears pooling on the floor of this Airbnb, you wished more than ever that she’d listened to you.

“Well, that’s okay,” you gently brushed the hair from her shoulder. “It’s okay not to be okay.”

Carter laid her head on your criss-crossed lap and let the tears fall harder. You rubbed her back and continued to reassure her all was going to be okay, waiting until the tears began to slow and her breathing steadied to broach the subject again.

“Do you want to…” you swallowed, preparing for her to brush you off again, “do you want to talk about it?”

She was quiet for a long moment, you sighed in acceptance that she would pick the ignoring you route this time.

Then, in a small, feeble voice, she whispered, “it’s too scary.”

“What is?” You whispered back, hand resting on her arm for comfort, praying she wouldn’t get spooked and would keep talking.

“Loving him,” she confessed.

Your heart nearly burst. You didn’t need to ask who she was talking about.

“Topper, you mean?” you responded.

She nodded slowly, “it was easier when I didn’t love him. I’m supposed to be leaving in a week. I’m supposed to be on to my next big thing, and all I can think about is what the best time to facetime him is if I’m six hours ahead. I should be thinking about me, but all I want is him, and that’s fucking terrifying.”

The thought sent her into another round of sobs, tears soaking the skirt of your dress.

“I know it feels scary, and new,” you tiptoed to your point, “but…have you ever really not loved him?”

She thought over your words, but the alcohol and drama of the evening was starting to pull her into a restless sleep.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she mumbled, half-asleep already. “So much.”

“Let’s just get you into bed, yeah?” You said, pulling her up off the floor. “We can talk tomorrow.”

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In the darkness of Carter’s room, your phone lit up on the nightstand.

You pulled your arm from under her slowly, praying not to wake her up now that she was finally snoozing peacefully, though her deep snores were occasionally interrupted by shaky breaths, the aftershocks of her sobs. You’d gotten both of you changed and into bed with some difficulty, a strategically placed trash can next to her side of the bed just in case. You reached over to check your phone, turning the brightness down so as not to disturb her.

You had a text from a number that wasn’t saved in your phone, starting with the same 252 area code as yours. You didn’t need to ask “who’s this?” because you’d know that seven digit combination on your deathbed. Deleting his contact from your phone had really been more of a cathartic exercise than anything else.

‘She asleep yet?’

‘I think so but it’s been rough, what about Top?’

‘Same, but he’s out like a light now…and snoring like a jet engine.’

You stifled your laugh so Carter wouldn’t hear, keeping your movements slow as you climbed out of her bed and padded towards the door. Wincing at the squeak of the door hinge, you pulled it slowly closed until the handle clicked.

Down the hall, the same click sounded from Topper’s door. Rafe stood with his hand on the doorknob, listening for any signs that his exit woke the sleeper inside.

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, and you shared a knowing, nervous smile. You each walked a few steps towards the other, Rafe immediately picking up on the water pooling in your eyes. You’d held it together up until now for Carter’s sake, wanting to be strong for her like she’d always been for you, but now the heartbreak of seeing her so upset was finally settling in.

“Hey, hey,” Rafe whispered, lengthening his strides to close the gap between you faster. “What’s wrong?”

He ducked to search your face for a second, your small sniffles breaking his heart. When a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, he pulled you in by your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You let your arms circle his waist, not taking the time to worry if this was strange or if you were okay being this vulnerable with him, just reveling in the comforting smell of him and the rise and fall of his sturdy chest under his t-shirt.

A few more tears slipped out, but with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while you breathed him in, your sadness faded slowly into a calm reassurance.

“You good?” He whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arms still wrapped around his torso.

“I just didn’t know she was so sad,” you explained, your lip trembling slightly at the thought of your sister, with all her strength and tenacity, slumped over on the bathroom floor. “I should’ve been paying closer attention. I came on this trip for her and all I’ve been doing is thinking about myself. I’m so selfish.”

That thought caused more tears to roll down your cheeks. Rafe placed a palm on either side of your face, his thumbs reaching out to swipe away the salty drops.

“You,” he said firmly, his voice just above a whisper now, more concerned with making sure you heard what he had to say than making sure not to wake anyone, “are not selfish.”

Once your tears were dried, he lifted your face towards him so he could look in your eyes. You ever-so-slightly nuzzled your head into his palm, wondering if he could even feel the gentle way you were surrendering to him. His soft grin told you he could.

“He’s a mess, too,” he nodded back toward Topper’s door.

“I love them, but those two are exhausting,” you chuckled softly.

Even as the conversation lightened up, his hands didn’t fall from your face, and your arms stayed firmly in place around him, just holding each other as you whisper-laughed about the antics of the whole group this evening.

“Sabrina said you had to chase Kelce half a block,” you giggled, and he’d never felt so relieved to see someone’s tears give way to laughter. “Your dad instincts really kicked in there, huh?”

“I don’t know,” he smiled, his eyes creasing with the upward tick of his lips, “the way you basically parted the crowd to get to Carter? Topper might have competition for house mother. Maybe we’re the real mom and dad.”

You snorted at that.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you blinked back, “just funny that you’re already talking about being parents when you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

Rafe nodded, tongue darting out to lick his lips, feigning seriousness, “you’re so right. We should probably do something about that.”

“You should probably do something about that,” you taunted.

His persona cracked and he laughed, eyebrows raised.

“Oh yeah? Should I?”

You nodded, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling at him as he leaned forward, eager to recapture the moment that had been so unceremoniously stolen from you a few hours ago.

Just before your lips touched, a vile retching noise came echoing down the hall from Topper’s room. He was vomiting again, and the romance was zapped from the air.

Your head fell back in frustration, groaning.

“You wanna go for a drive?” Rafe offered, hand sliding down your arm to find yours, fingers lacing together like they belonged there.

You nodded quickly, a smile replacing your annoyed frown. He led you down the stairs fast and you padded behind excitedly, giggling at his speed and urgency.

“Shit,” he paused before reaching into the bowl on the kitchen counter where everyone was keeping their keys. “I forgot Sabrina blocked me in.”

“We’ll take Carter’s jeep,” you offered, fishing around the bowl until you found her fuzzy pink keychain. “She parked on the road.”

“She won’t mind?” He asked.

“I have a feeling she’s gonna be out for a long time,” you pointed out. “I’m driving though.”

“Just like old times,” he grinned, your heart doing cartwheels at the memory.

Fingers intertwined, you let him pull you away from the house, and the risk of any more interruptions.

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The sky glowed with that pre-sunrise blue fog, turning the world around you into a collection of navy silhouettes. The only shape you cared about seeing was the faded profile of the man in the passenger seat next to you.

Though the air still held the chilly nip of dawn, it was warm enough to roll the windows down, which was always your preference. Your hair whipped around you in a frenzy of wind. You could feel his eyes on you as you drove, but you didn’t look back, suddenly filled with nerves, butterflies crowding your stomach and doubt flooding your mind. You just kept driving, suddenly terrified of what would happen when you stopped.

After a few minutes of unreturned eye contact, Rafe finally tore his gaze away from you, poking around Carter’s car to have something to do with his hands. He opened the glove box, and the middle console, fidgeting with every little button and knick-knack he could find.

You smirked at his restlessness and kept driving straight, not entirely sure where you were going. Rafe opened the sun visor above him, gasping at what he found.

“No fucking way,” he laughed with a disbelieving shake of his head, “Carter has CDs? Still?”

He pulled the sleeve of CDs from the visor’s clip, inspecting them closer.

“Wait,” a slow smile bloomed on his face as he observed knowingly, “these are yours.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because they’re the same ones you had in your car in high school.”

“Didn’t think you’d remember,” you scoffed.

“I remember everything about you,” he said, like it was the most obvious and casual admission anyone had ever made.

Even with the cool morning air blowing in through the window, the car suddenly felt too hot. Too hot and too small. Your chest and neck bloomed with a nervous blush as your breath quickened. How were you supposed to respond to that?

Rafe kept sorting through the CDs, nodding at each one in recognition, leaning back in his seat as if he hadn’t just dropped an atomic bomb into the conversation.

You needed to fill the silence before he noticed the tornado of anxious thoughts tearing through your mind.

“You gonna pick one?” You urged him, eager for the sound of familiar music to erase his words that hung in the air between you.

He finally made it to the back of the plastic sleeve, to a familiar silver disc decorated in sharpie in your handwriting; your favorite homemade mix that you’d played every single day from ages fifteen to seventeen.

You’d titled it “car mix,” though a more accurate title would be “Rafe’s mix.”

Sometime during your freshman year, you’d spent a whole day sitting in front of your computer, meticulously sorting through songs that made you think of him, or that you wanted him to listen to, hoping he would hear them and finally understand you somehow. It was a love letter without words, and he’d heard it a thousand times, but you doubted he ever really listened. Par for the course.

“I think that one got scratched,” you tried to discourage him from playing it, the flashback to your desperate, lovestruck younger self a little too much to handle at five a.m.

Rafe turned it over in his hands, inspecting it for those so-called scratches, finding nothing satisfying.

“Looks good to me,” he disagreed, popping it into the CD player and beaming bright as the first song began to play through the speakers.

“Oh my god,” he laughed, “it’s like we’re in a time machine.”

You agreed, the familiar opening notes of the first song you’d picked for him sent you flying back in time, to a girl you thought was long dead, and the boy next to her, whom she’d loved to her grave.

Chills shot up your spine, a warning shot before the tears that were beginning to gather on your lash line. You pulled the car quickly to the side of the road, sand flying up with the screech of the tires. You realized then that you’d somehow found your way to the public beach, the parking lot empty and sandy shore free of any sunbathers or surfers.

Rafe turned the music down, looking at you quizzically as your foot slammed on the break. Before he could ask what was going on, you were pulling the keys from the ignition and throwing off your seatbelt, hopping down from the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind you. He scrambled for his door handle as you started walking quickly toward the water and away from him.

The salty air was so thick you could taste droplets of seawater on your lips before you were even halfway to the shore. The waves crashed violently, remnants of the week’s storms throwing the water back and forth until it was foaming and angry.

Angry. You were as angry as the sea, sand kicking up with each stomp of your foot as you hurried as far away from him as you could possibly get. His long legs were already catching him up to you as he chased you down, calling your name.

Despite your efforts to outpace him, you could feel him gaining on you, nearly at your heel by the time your toes touched the water’s edge. Flight would not be an option, it was time for a fight.

“You remember everything?” You whipped toward him, nearly knocking him over with the force of the glare that met him. You stalked toward him, catching the way he backed up just a step before squaring his shoulders and planting himself until you were nearly chest to chest. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Rafe?”

“What are you talking about?” He asked desperately, scrambling from the whiplash of your sudden outburst. “What the hell just happened?”

He was genuinely so clueless as to the reason for your sudden shift in mood, reeling like he was mentally still back in the car listening to music, eyes scanning your face as he tried desperately to catch up. You almost took pity on him. Almost.

“I can’t,” a lump lodged itself into your throat and you bit your lip for a second to hold it down, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What? Can’t do what?” He begged for clarity.

You just shook your head, a final plea to your own tears not to fall in front of him, but they betrayed you, one single drop slipping down your face. You turned from him quickly as a final ditch ending to hide them from him, and stepped away further down the beach.

“No, no wait, please wait,” with two easy strides he was close enough to touch you, wrapping his hand around your wrist to turn you toward him. “Don’t do this to me. You said you’d remember the alleyway, we were so close. We are so close.”

“Are we?” You challenged him. “If we’re so close then why can’t I even ride in the car with you without feeling like I can’t breathe? You don’t get it, Rafe. You don’t understand that every memory feels like a fucking sucker punch.”

“Then let’s not focus on the memories,” he suggested, “I just want to be with you right now.”

“Why now?” You burst out, another tear breaking through the barricade and sliding traitorously down your cheek. “Why not then?”

They were the two questions that plagued you since you saw him on the beach. You felt you knew the reason. You looked different, he was attracted to this version of you. Even though it would hurt like a bitch, you really wished he would just admit it, that he only wanted you because of how you look now, so you could finally just hate him and move on.

Instead, he continued his time honored tradition of giving you the exact opposite of what you wanted.

He looked straight at you, no waiver in his voice as he said, “because I wasn’t ready for you. I wasn’t good enough.”

It was the perfect answer, and your worst case scenario. Heartfelt, honest, a hot knife to the wall of ice you’d worked so hard to build between you and him. As he’d done so many times before, Rafe melted you.

Soft eyes, you tilted your head as you studied him, “and you are now?”

“No,” his laugh surprised you, scoffing as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. “But I’m smarter. Smart enough to know that I’ll never be good enough for you. Who could be?”

The last chips of ice melted away entirely at those words, the image of his sweet smile when he said them etched itself on your heart in a way you knew was completely permanent.

As so often happened when you were at a crossroads with your own mind, you heard Carter’s voice ringing through your thoughts. Though this time, it wasn’t a quippy comment about Rafe, or a catchy mantra to encourage you to hold your head high. Instead, you heard her weak, cracked voice as she cried on the bathroom floor just hours ago; “it’s too scary.”

Suddenly, you knew exactly what she meant.

Your every instinct was to pull away from him, hide away the vulnerable thought to avoid any risk of him making it worse. But as he looked down at you, the first traces of sunrise streaking across the horizon, casting a gold-pink glow on his cheekbones, something in the back of your mind was saying you could trust him.

“I’m scared,” you all but whispered.

Rafe lifted his hand slowly, as if you were an elusive, wild thing that would run off at any sudden movement. When you didn’t flee, he took the chance to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, voice dropping low as he said, “I know.”

“How am I supposed to know you won’t hurt me?”

Your deepest fears continued to flow out of you, into his waiting hands, praying he wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers.

“I don’t think you will until you give me a chance to prove it to you,” he countered.

You knew he was right. Holding him at arm’s length would never get you the answers you needed from him. You’d never know if he had really changed unless you got close enough to relearn him, and you’d never know how he really felt about you unless you gave him a second chance to show you. You aren’t generally opposed to second chances, more likely to give them out then, say, your sister is.

“You know what Carter would say?” You chuckled darkly, unable to detangle your sister’s voice from your own conscience even if you wanted to. “That you don’t deserve any more chances.”

“That might be the first thing I’ve ever agreed with her on,” Rafe was quick to acknowledge. “But you know what else she’d say?”

“What?” You asked with raised brows, skeptical that he had any clue what Carter would actually say, and knowing she would hate that he was claiming to.

“That you deserve a chance.”

Funny thing is, that’s exactly what Carter would say. She didn’t really know how badly you wanted him, that you were starting to suspect you might just be happiest when you’re with him, but she always encouraged you to do what made you happy, even when it was something she didn’t understand.

“And if I’m what you want then I just happen to be the luckiest idiot in the world, because I want you too. You have no idea how badly.”

The tide was coming in, the very edge of each wave nipping at your toes before being pulled back out to sea. Rafe’s confession made you feel so unsteady, you wondered if you’d crumble and get pulled out right with it. Your mind reached for anything to ground you before you drowned in him completely.

“Why?” You asked him, needing his answer like a port in the storm.

“Why?” He repeated, either confused by the question or by the need for it. Somehow, both possibilities annoyed you.

“Yeah, tell me why you want me,” you placed your hands on your hips, shoulders squaring up with him in challenge. “And you’re not allowed to use the word beautiful, or cute, or call me baby.”

“This kinda feels like a test,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah? Maybe it is,” you huffed. “And this time there’s no cheating, no open book. And no me to slip you the answers.”

“Can I get a few minutes to review my notes?” His cheeky pout was so cute you worried you were about to fold right there on the spot.

“Fine,” you allowed, “you get one minute to think about it.”

He feigned worry, faked stress, biting his thumbnail and looking out over the waves as if he actually had to think it over.

In reality, he was more prepared for this test than any he’d ever taken in his life. He’d spent years thinking about this moment, about what he would say, what he could say that would possibly be enough.

While you waited for him to speak, you mirrored his stance, facing the water with your hands wrapped around you.

Rafe turned his head slightly to take in your profile, the sliver of daylight creeping over the horizon making your features glow so romantically.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried to focus on the count in your head, dutifully keeping track of the seconds until his allotted prep time was up.

Evidently, he didn’t need a timer, his voice broke the silence before you had even gotten to forty-five.

“Y’know, I got a walk-on tryout invite for baseball at Chapel Hill,” he started.

You resisted the urge to look at him or respond, despite your mind racing to connect the dots between that statement and the challenge of explaining why he wants you.

“I was…so shitty,” he laughed at the memory, “I mean just awful. Striking out in the cage, my fielding was all over the place, I dropped a fucking pop fly. I’ve made that play a thousand times and the one time it counted, I dropped it. I mean, you wouldn’t have even recognized me out there. And the best part was that my dad came to watch. He bribed an old alum buddy to get him into closed tryouts just to watch me absolutely shit the bed.”

His smile faded.

“It was the worst day of my life. The coaches didn’t even call me themselves, they sent me an automated email to tell me I didn’t make the team. They were nice enough to send me some film from the tryout, though. I must’ve watched it a hundred times. I was spiraling like a bitch, just full on meltdown. I watched that film over and over, like some kind of torture. When I watched it, I just kept wondering how that guy could’ve ever been considered good.”

He turned to you, looking down at you intensely, hesitating for the first time since he started talking.

“I know I fumbled you. I knew it from the second it happened. And,” he swallowed hard, struggling with the next part. “I knew you were in love with me.”

Your head snapped to the side to look at him, face beat red.

“I was an idiot, but I wasn’t blind,” he continued before you could interject a defense. “The problem was never that I didn’t know, it was that I didn’t know why. But the way you looked at me, I don’t know, it made me feel like I must be like, somewhat good. Why else would you care about me if I wasn’t? But then when I was fucking rotting in my dorm watching that film over and over it dawned on me…you didn’t love me because I was good. I was good because you loved me.”

Breath escaped you, eyes glossy as you let those beautiful words sink in, but he wasn’t done.

“I thought it was just a lucky break that I got you for four years. And of course I fucked it up, I fuck everything up. After those tryouts, I had nothing, no one. I failed my classes, dropped out of rushing a frat, I stopped talking to everyone. Shit, even my sisters were calling me to see if I was okay. I got it together eventually, kind of, but it’s never been the same. I have never been the same…since you. But then I saw you on the beach the other day, and it kind of hit me. The biggest loss wasn’t your love for me, or my fielding skills, or the bullshit frat parties. It was my best friend. You were my best friend. You were - you are - my favorite fucking person. When all that shit happened, you were the only one I wanted to talk to, and I couldn’t, I didn’t deserve to. But god, I’d give anything, anything, to have my best friend back. You don’t have to…be with me. I understand if you don’t want to. But please, can we just be friends again?”

You blinked up at him as he finished his monologue, all his words swirling around your head like cartoon birds, dizzying and all consuming. You wished it really was a test, cause then you’d have a printed copy that you could study and analyze and go over and over with different colored highlighters.

But it wasn’t a test. It wasn’t a metaphor. It was just you and the boy you love standing on the beach at sunrise, looking at each other like you were the only two people on earth.

“No.” You said, shaking your head.

His eyes blinked rapidly, trying and failing to hold back his emotion. Before he could spiral any further, you added,

“I don’t wanna be friends.”

His eyes flicked over yours for just a second, double checking, asking you silently if that meant what he thought it did. You gave him the slightest nod, as if to finally say “yes, Rafe.”

Rafe’s hands landed firm but gentle on either side of your face, pulling you towards him. Your lips met in a symphony of passion and affection and need and a mutual sigh of fucking finally.

He tasted better than you’d ever imagined, a sweet rush to your head as his tongue parted your lips slightly. He pulled back just an inch to let his uncontrollable smile break against yours, laughing into each other’s mouths in disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy. Once he was satisfied that you understood how happy he was, he pulled you back in.

If the first kiss was a spark, the second kiss was a goddamn explosion. He kissed you like the tide kisses the shore in a hurricane, his tsunami waves crashing into you over and over again. His tongue took over, claiming you, taking up space in your mouth like he never planned to leave. His hands drifted, one to the back of your head, laced in your hair, the other on the small of your back, holding you against himself. Your hands snaked up his arms, savoring every inch of him until you reached his shoulders. You linked your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you as you stood on your tiptoes to meet him, finding middle ground for the first time in your lives.

After a while, your lips parted, both of you desperate for breath, the lack of oxygen dizzying.

“So,” he smiled, hand still cradling your head and his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip, “did I pass?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to consider it, “A minus.”

“What? You must be grading on a curve,” he shook his head.

“Maybe you could do some extra credit,” you flirted.

With a sly smile at that, he returned his lips to yours, and you forgot a time when you didn’t know what it was like to kiss him.

Time passed, the sun rose, night bloomed into morning, and Rafe kissed you for what could’ve been a lifetime. With each minute that passed with his lips on yours, you felt all the bad memories fade to gray, the past washing away with the crash of the waves, leaving only him.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Carter’s Jeep sat parked on the side of the road, the interior dark in the early morning light, except for the phones buzzing uncontrollably on each seat.

On the passenger's side, Rafe’s phone blew up with texts from Topper. The most recent reading ‘dude, we’ve got trouble at the house…’

On the driver’s seat, yours lit up with twelve missed calls and a single text from Carter,

‘Don’t come back.’

(chapter 8: part one)

a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

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wellourgerdes · 27 days ago

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Luxury Coach Trips to Tower of London - Hire with Driver

Luxury Coach Hire with Driver Luxury Coach Trips to London Buckingham Palace 🚍👑✨ Step Into 1,000 Years of Royal History in VIP Comfort & Style Discover the Tower of London, one of the most iconic royal landmarks in the UK, with a luxury chauffeur-driven coach tour from Crony Chauffeur Services. Whether you’re a history lover, royal enthusiast, corporate group, or private traveller, we provide an…

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bryonyashaw · 2 years ago

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A post shared by Bryony | Lifestyle | family | foodie (@bryonyannie)

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𝘾𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣! 🏖

The kids and I plus people from my Voluntary work spent the day in Bridlington - organised by @lighthousecommunityhub 'Lighthouse Outreach Project.'

Each week it has great community activities on, they provide food parcels, a baby bank and offer cooked meals too. I took my youngest to toddler group there and when she started school I just wanted to pay it forward and offer any help I could.

Which brings me to what did we do at Bridlington?! Well, we spent the day in a lovely seaside town where my children frolicked on the beach (Winnie stripped off and was having a mermaid moment in the sea, but discovered after that bathing in that particular part of the sea isn't advised but hey, building immunity) we have fish and chips and of course checked out the arcades.

Bridlington, on the Yorkshire coast, is a tradition seaside resort with golden sands, a promenade and attractive gardens. There is a working harbour located between the two main beaches to the north and south of the town - a dynamic business hub, crucial to the town and its residents. At the helm are the Bridlington Harbour Commissioners, a group of individuals, supported by an administrative team, who manage, protect and develop all aspects of the harbour and its activities.

It's a place with a rich history, stunning scenery, and a range of attractions and activities to suit all ages and interests - plus a popular destination for birdwatchers, with the nearby Bempton Cliffs nature reserve being home to thousands of seabirds. The town has a range of accommodation options, including hotels, guest houses, and self-catering cottages too!

Situated in the region East Riding of Yorkshire in England! It is on the Holderness part (Flamborough Head to the Humber estuary) of the Yorkshire Coast by the North Sea. The town is about 28 miles (45 km) north of Hull and 34 miles (55 km) east of York. The stream called Gypsey Race flows through the town and enters the North Sea at the harbour.

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rafescvntyclubgf · 1 month ago

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𝓕𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂

🇹🇭🇪 🇱🇴🇻🇪 🇨🇴🇦🇨🇭

𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡!𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙲𝙴𝙾!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕. 𝚂𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜—𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖.

cw | smut, swearing, older!rafe, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, unprotected p in v, choking, oral female receiving, squirting.

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Reader’s POV:

You look out the window of your glass-walled office, adjusting and smoothing the fabric of your blazer nervously, watching as the city bustles below you—people rushing around with somewhere to be and someone to see. Expect you…

You would be lying if you said you were proud of how fast you climbed the ladder, but rightfully so; that ascent didn’t come without a cost. Your life was full of staff meetings, high-stress phone calls, and negotiations. On paper, you had it all: money, power, and influence, except for one thing: someone to share it all with. Romance. What the hell is that, anyway?

Walking over to your desk, you crash down in your chair, blowing out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in, letting your shoulders fall for a beat. You take in the silence around you momentarily, your thoughts robbing you of that peace fast.

You were focused so much on your career that everything else seemed to fall by the wayside. Until recently…

Pope Heyward.

The handsome lawyer across the hall in your highrise. He was everything you found attractive: handsome, intelligent, kind… You first noticed him when you shared an elevator ride. He greeted you with a polite smile and a warm and rich ‘Good morning.’ You tripped and tumbled over your words, avoiding eye contact entirely. Each morning since has been a compilation of the world's most basic gestures: finger waves and nods in passing.

It was maddening. You could hold a boardroom at your command and negotiate multi-million dollar deals without breaking a sweat, but a simple smile from that handsome lawyer had you tongue-tied and flustered. You felt ridiculous. Even worse, you felt helpless.

One particularly lonely night, you poured yourself a glass of wine and grabbed your phone, pulling up every magazine article and self-help blog you could. It wasn’t long before you stumbled upon a man promising you precisely what you were looking for. Romance. All achievable with the help of Matchmaker and Love Coach Rafe Cameron…

His website was professional–Its pages filled with testimonials from executives, lawyers, doctors, and other high-powered professionals who had forgotten about their love lives along the way.

You were hesitant, fingers hovering over the contact button, digits drumming on the arm of your couch, holding yourself back until you broke. Hiring Rafe to fix all the problems with your love life felt absurd, but it was broken… You would do the same to any other thing or aspect of your life that needed fixing. Why not this too?

The next day, you sat in a private booth, looking out onto the cafe you were waiting at. Your lips trembled as you took a few sips of coffee. You looked down at your watch, clocking the time–two minutes until your planned meeting time. Your heart started to pound in your chest, your body felt like it needed to flee—

“Miss?”

You looked up from your seat, startled and wide-eyed. Rafe was younger than you expected: light hair and striking blue eyes that twinkled in the warm cafe lights. He smiled, making your heart skip a beat.

“Rafe Cameron,” he said, extending a hand. Your cheeks warmed at how clammy your grip was. He had been in your presence for no more than 10 seconds, and he could already tell you were a mess when it came to this. He reached for the button of his tailored navy blazer, unfastening it before sitting across from you.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you said, trying to steady your voice.

“Of course. Of course. So, what can I help you with?” He asks as he tilts his head slightly, the sight of the beautiful man before you sending you into a tailspin.

“Umm… I – I don’t have time for dating.”

“Of course, you don’t; you’re very successful,” he praises. “You didn’t get to the position you’re in by accident.”

You shake your head and smile softly, taking in his compliment. You glance down at your coffee, finding yourself slightly overwhelmed with his full focus as you come to terms with the fact that this is the longest conversation you’ve had with a man in years that had something to do with anything other than business.

“Well, when I meet someone, I tend to overthink it and freeze up… It’s frustrating.”

“And you’re not used to that in your career, so why is your private life so different?” He asks earnestly, voicing all your concerns like he’s reading your mind. “It’s not uncommon... You’re so used to excelling in every aspect of your work life–you’re so used to being in control–that dating feels like that one thing you just can’t seem to get right.”

“Exactly,” you sigh.

“We just have to get you out of your head, yeah?” He asks.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” You whisper against the lip of your coffee cup before taking a sip.

Your heart starts to race as Rafe smile stretches along his pretty lips. He leans forward, lessening the space between the two of you. “The basics first: confidence, connection, clarity.”

“Sounds easier said than done,” you chuckle weakly.

Rafe grins and nods in agreement. “Once you get that little bit of confidence and find something you really want, everything will fall into place, I promise. Is there someone you want?” You bite your lip, stifling a smile. “Great,” Rafe said, his grin widening.

“He’s a lawyer across the hall from my office,” you gossip; your voice is soft and meek.

“Really? That’s perfect. Tell me about him.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇…

“You’re quiet,” Rafe hums during your afternoon session as his beautiful blue eyes continue to study your movements. “What’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, rolling out the tension in your neck. “Nothing… You know how I am.”

“Talk to me,” he answers simply, leaning into the arm of the oversized office chair.

“Just work,” you answer. “It’s nothing really–boring “me” stuff.”

“Bullshit,” he laughs and shakes his head. “Lay it on me. You know you can talk to me–” And that’s the problem. You could talk to him for hours, without hesitation–without stress. Talking to Rafe was the opposite of speaking to the Pope, his presence making you crumble before him. Still…

“It’s discouraging,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips. “With you, I feel like I can do it–”

“It?”

“Be me. I don’t know why it’s so hard with him.”

“Do you think you’re trying to be the kind of woman you think he wants instead of showing him who you are?”

Your lips draw to the side as you take in his words. “Maybe…”

“Well, there’s no need for that… You’re more than enough,” he praises.

Rafe crosses his arms over his broad chest, reading you like a book. The material of his linen shirt strains as his muscles flex unintentionally; a playful smile plays on his lips as he looks back at you.

Your lashes flutter as you feel butterflies swirl in your stomach. You break eye contact, feeling the weight of his stare.

It’s nothing…. Rafe is good at what he does—reading people and making them feel seen. That’s why it was so easy to talk to him. That’s all it was.

It wasn’t just the praise that lingered… It was the way he said it and looked into your eyes that had your heart racing. You bite your lips, hanging your head momentarily, pulling yourself back to reality.

He’s the man trying to help you… Stop.

“Let’s run through a scenario, hmm?” Rafe asks, breaking the silence. Your eyes lift to his in annoyance, making Rafe snorts out a laugh. “C’mon. It’s your favorite,” he teases as he pushes himself out of the chair, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. “Elevator.”

You poke out your bottom lip as you look back at him, stepping out from behind your desk before walking toward him. “Elevator again?” You sigh.

“Mhmm…” He breathes as he looks down at you, taking a step closer. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’d ask him about his day… Maybe ask if he had plans for the weekend.”

“Good,” he smiles. “And what else?” The corner of his lips curl into a smirk

Your breath catches in your chest as his rich cologne fills your nose. “I–I…” You swallow hard, trying to gain the confidence you lost in a moment.

“I?” He asks as his brows lift, urging you to speak and recall anything he taught you.

“I–” You swallow the lump that formed in your throat. “I’d probably panic and say something stupid about work,” you breathe, letting your shoulders fall as you look up at him with hopeless eyes.

Rafe laughs deeply, sending a warmth straight through you.

“You’re overthinking it… You’re not trying to impress him, remember? You’re just talking. You’re not trying to change yourself. It does not have to be him, aight? If he’s not a good fit for you, someone else will be. Pope Heyward is not the end all to be all… But, if he is, he’s a lucky man, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

"You've idealized him in your mind, and now you are worried you’ll fall short of this ideal. You don't have to prove anything— not to him, not to anyone. He should be so lucky. So just speak to him like you’d speak to me.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is,” Rafe hums, his voice softening. “You’re incredible. You just need to believe it and let him in.”

Ring. Ring.

Your phone buzzes, breaking the tension between the two of you. You walk over, looking down at the notification for the three o’clock meeting. “Can we finish this conversation on the road? I have a meeting.”

Rafe follows you to the elevator, stepping inside with you. Your heart skips a beat, and your body freezes as you notice the two other people in there as well: Pope and Alexis Johnson, his partner at the firm.

“Are you going up?” Pope’s baritone voice fills the lift. You look up at him and smile, nodding your head as you feel your anxiety rise. He lets out a breathy chuckle, giving you a sweet smile. “Floor?” He mouths the words inaudible.

“Oh, umm, twenty-five,” you smile as you lean forward simultaneously, bumping hands before letting him select it for you.

You look out of the corner of your eye, catching Rafe’s half-focus as he looks down at his phone, trying to act nonchalant. Your eyes shift in the other direction, Pope’s eyes greeting yours.

“How’s everything going across the hall?” Pope asks as he turns toward you slightly.

“Oh, uh–um… It’s great,” you say brightly. You feel Rafe’s fingers push against your lower back, urging you to say something else. “How’s it going for you?” You ask, surprising yourself as it comes out, your voice more level than before.

“Keepin’ busy. We’re on our way to a meeting… I can’t even tell you how many I’ve had today,” he sighs.

“Same.”

Silence fills the elevator as the two of you stare at each other, smiling and nodding–not quite sure where to take the conversation next, considering you were two floors away from his stop, and honestly, you didn’t think you’d get much farther than this.

“I… Uh–” Ding. The elevator cuts you off.

“Were you gonna say something?” Pope asks as he leans in a little closer. His partner steps out of the elevator, accepting a phone call. Before you can respond, the elevator door starts to shut, adding to the awkwardness and making you feel like you could die from embarrassment right then and there as Pope catches it.

“No. No, it’s fine,” you assure as he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Okay. Have a great night.”

“You too,” you smile. Your eyes stay locked on the hallway ahead, avoiding eye contact with Rafe, just knowing what he would say next. The door skates closed, your eyes pinching shut with it.

“Rafe, I’m sorry. I–”

Beep.

“Hey,” Pope's voice makes your eyes open, your heart falling into your stomach as he catches the elevator door. “M’sorry if this is too forward, but are you free tonight?”

Your brain freezes again, unable to process his words.

Did Pope Heyward just ask me out after that?

“Tonight?” You repeat shakily.

Pope chuckles lightly. “Mhmm… It’s been on my mind for a while. Figured I might as well ask. I think we could both use a night out.”

You blink fast as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. “Yeah… Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great,” Pope answers as his smile widens on his lips. He reaches into the breast pocket of his suit, grabbing his card. “Text me? Just tell me where you want to go. Anywhere you’d like.”

You take the card off him, clutching it in your clammy hand as he gives you a nod. “See you tonight.”

“Can’t wait,” you answer as the elevator doors close. You bite your lips, holding back an all-to-wide smile, your eyes wide like saucers, processing what just happened. You turn towards Rafe, meeting his eyes, a mixture of surprise and disbelief painted all over your face. “Did that just happen?” You ask excitedly. Your hand slaps over your mouth, unable to fight it any longer.

“It did,” Rafe answers, his tone light, lacking his usual warmth.

“I mean, he just—out of nowhere—asked me out,” you continue, half-talking to yourself. “I didn’t think he even noticed me like that.”

Rafe adjusts the collar of his shirt, his movements a little more clipped than before. His lips turn upward as he gives you a forced smile. “Why wouldn’t he? You’re brilliant, successful; it would be hard not to notice you.”

You tilt your head, studying him this time.

“Are you okay?”

Your words seem to snap him out of his daze. His eyes and smile get a little brighter, recovering in an instant. “Of course. This is what you’ve been workin’ for. This is what you want. I’m… I am happy for you.”

The two of you exit the elevator and walk toward the meeting rooms. Rafe keeps his eyes locked on the path ahead, his silence unheard of up to this point. His quick wit and notes always seem to be at the ready. You couldn’t help but think that maybe that didn’t go as well as you thought it did…

Rafe looks over at you, trying to keep himself composed.

He’d told himself from the beginning that this was just a job like he had done with so many other people before you without any issue…. His role was to guide you, not feel anything for you.

For weeks, he had helped you build your confidence— to pursue someone else… But there he stood, hearing your excitement over your date, feeling nothing but jealousy, realizing how deeply he miscalculated it all.

He hated the way Pope looked at you… He hated how his chest tightened whenever you mentioned his name or smiled at the thought of another man. But, what he hated the most was the realization that he had already lost you before he ever had the chance to tell you how he felt.

He was dishing out relationship advice and not taking a word of it for himself.

“I’ll see you at our next session,” Rafe smiles, his tone polite but distant.

“Thanks again, Rafe. I’ll let you know how it goes,” you answer as he walks away. He lifts his fist, giving you a thumbs up, his body still turned, unable to even look back at you now.

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉…

Knock. Knock.

Your heart flutters as you hear Rafe on the other side of your apartment door. You stand up, smoothing out your dress, feeling your excitement rise.

He had said, ‘he’d see you at your next session.’ but a few hours after he left the office, he called, letting you know he would stop by to send you off. ‘One last pep talk before your big date.’

You open the door with a smile, your breath hitching as you see Rafe—his muscular body hugged in an all-black tailored suit. His black button-down is opened slightly, showing off the gold chain glimmering on his tanned chest.

He looks equally as surprised to see you, his eyes falling down your body as your heart pounds in your chest, your black dress practically painted over your curves. Rafe takes a shallow breath and smiles before looking back at you. “You look… Fuck. You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” you answer bashfully as you step to the side, letting him in, your eyes following the sleek lines of his suit as well. You bite your lip, trying to hold back everything you were holding in. “You look great,” you smile. “Very handsome.”

Rafe grins as he leans back into the counter, a rosy blush washed across his cheeks. He looks down momentarily, collecting himself before returning his attention to you.

“How are you feelin’?” He asks as he relaxes a little more—his eyes still drinking you in.

“A little nervous,” you giggle as you step forward in your sky-high heels, feeling your ankles wobble slightly from your nerves.

“Got no reason to be. But, I get it–” He sighs. “I get that way too sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Mhmm…” He hums. “I brought you somethin’.” You glance down, noticing the little red bag in his hand.

“You got me a gift?” You gasp.

“A few… Yeah,” he says as he beckons you closer. You take the bag off his hands, pulling out the paper. “You can put this in your ear if you’d like. I think it would be good for me to hear what’s goin’ on. I’m sure it will go just fine, but I think I can give you the best guidance for our next session if I hear it all.”

“Oh?” You ask as you look up at him, pressing the little piece in your ear before covering it with your hair. “Are you coming?”

“That okay? Besides bein’ in your ear, you won’t even know I'm there. Scouts honor.”

Rafe reaches up, rechecking it, letting his rough hand fall slightly to cup your soft cheek. Your heart swells at the contact between the two of you.

“Do you do this for everyone?” You whisper through a slight smile.

He doesn’t answer quite yet, fighting back a smirk as he gives you a little shrug, letting his silence answer your question for the moment.

You lean into him a little, making his heart melt.

“Every client is different…” he mumbles as he pulls out another gift. “Some perfume–Baccarat Rouge–my personal favorite. Romantic, sexy, decadent… everything you are, okay? I want you to feel good.” You feel your cheeks pool with heat, hearing those words fall so easily from his lips.

Rafe reaches out, holding your hand to spray the elixir on your wrist before drawing it to his nose, taking in your scents paired so beautifully together.

“Beautiful.”

You smell it as well, taking in all the rich notes as Rafe reaches into the bag, pulling out one last gift with a smile. A blood-red box with Cartier embossed in gold.

“Rafe-” You start, but he clicks his tongue, stopping you fast.

“Every client’s different…” His voice falls a little more. Rafe steps closer, resting his hands on your hips before turning you around. “Hold your hair for me.”

The warmth of his breath fans along your neck as he wraps the jewelry around your throat before clasping it shut.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

You glance around the elegant downtown restaurant, your heart pounding beneath the fitted bodice of your dress. The table is set with fine china and sparkling glasses; candlelights dance softly between them.

This was your chance… This was the moment you’d been working toward for weeks, but all you could think about was earlier. The gifts… Rafe’s sweet words and the moment you shared at your place.

“Relax,” Rafe’s voice comes through softly, calm and reassuring. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.” You look up at Pope and smile before shifting your attention just over his shoulder, catching Rafe’s sparkling blue eyes as he sips his martini.

You won't even know I'm there…

“So,” Pope says, leaning forward slightly.

“So,” you smile and giggle, feeding off his excitement.

“What’s a normal day like for you?” He asks curiously before taking a sip of wine.

You hesitate momentarily before Rafe’s voice quickly cuts through your nerves. “Keep it light,” he hums.

“Ugh,” you groan, releasing an exhausted laugh that Pope quickly mirrors, lightening the mood even more as you say so much without a single utterance.

“Same,” he jokes.

“—Meetings, calls, and trying to keep up with my team’s endless stream of ideas.”

“Sounds like chaos,” he adds.

“Controlled chaos,” you reply with a smile as your confidence grows.

“Perfect,” Rafe praises softly in your ear. “You’re doing great. Don’t stop.”

The conversation continues to flow effortlessly, ebbing and flowing between you and Pope, sharing stories. You feel lighter, more comfortable than you’ve ever felt in his presence.

Rafe adjusts in his seat nervously as he watches you from afar.

This should have been a win for him–yet another happy client, yet another glowing testimonial he could add to his portfolio.

The knife to the heart was the date he helped you achieve. It’s twist was every laugh… Every beautiful smile stolen from him and gifted to Pope.

“You’re doing amazing,” Rafe says, keeping his voice steady. “Ask him about somethin’ outside of work—maybe a hobby or something he’s passionate about.”

You smile, giving the man on the other side of the earpiece a subtle nod as your eyes stay set on Pope’s. “So, what do you do when you’re not winning cases? Any hobbies?” Pope’s face lights up, the man launching quickly into a story about the language he’s learning and his upcoming trip to Paris.”

“No way,” you smile. “Tell me more.”

“Keepin’ the conversation going… Perfect,” Rafe praises, his words barely passing his lips, cracking with all the emotion he felt.

His heart aches. His jealousy weighed heavily on his heart. Every layer revealed to Pope just pulled you further and further away.

Rafe clenches his jaw, his blunt nails driving into the thigh of his dress pants. He tosses his head back for the moment, willing himself to stay focused–to stay rational when all he wants to do is storm across the restaurant and have you for himself.

“Do you date often?” Pope asks curiously. “Have you tried any of the apps or anything?”

“No,” you shake your head and smile. “Have you?”

Pope’s lip pulls, nose flaring slightly in disgust with his past experiences. “The apps are a mess. If I’m being honest, Raya, on the very, very rare occasion… For the obvious–”

Rafe perks up in his seat, his figure shifting to pull your attention to where he sits, projecting his sheer disgust like that was some out-of-pocket thing for an adult to say.

Umm…” You hum through a little nervous laugh at Rafe’s reaction, turning your focus back to Pope. “I get that,” you smile.

You listen as Rafe chuckles annoyedly in the earpiece, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.

Pope's smile widens at your response; a slight bite of his bottom lip gives you a pretty good idea of where his thoughts are drifting to.

“You travel?” He asks, throwing his voice a little lower than before.

“I haven’t had the chance to,” you sigh.

“Neither have I,” Pope smiles, “but I’m tryin’ to take better care of myself.”

“Are you going with anyone?” You ask curiously. “To Paris?”

“No one yet,” he smiles. “I’m hopeful though. I’m stayin’ at this beautiful boutique hotel by the Eiffel Tower, sightseeing, amazing food, great wine. It’d be a shame if I had to do that alone. Wouldn’t mind sharin’ that trip with someone… Someone who makes me laugh, smart, and hardworking who could finally relax with me.”

“Someone hardworking that could relax…” Rafe hums, his voice dripping with intimacy—filling your ear—making it feel like he’s surrounding you. “Think I could take care of her myself.”

Your eyes widen as you look back at Pope, hearing Rafe’s words. You try to keep your composure as both men shoot their shot; Rafe’s so unexpected that you question if you even heard him right in the first place.

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?” Rafe asks, making you flutter your lashes as your words get stuck on your lips. Pope shifts uneasily, making your embarrassment rise, knowing just how long you let his words hang in the air as you processed Rafe’s “Sorry,” Pope fumbles. “M’sorry if that was too forward. I-”

“Oh my god, no—no, you’re fine,” you assure.

“He’s not…” Rafe adds. “I agree with him. That was too forward,” Rafe taunts. “That’s date two talk, princess. He needs to stay in his lane.”

“And what lane are you in?”

“Pardon me?” Pope asks as you challenge Rafe, your stomach instantly falling at the realization you replied to Rafe's injection.

“Sorry,” you huff, trying your best to recover. “I worded that oddly. Uh… umm. What street is the hotel on? I meant street, not lane,” you ramble. “I’m still a little nervous.”

“No, please… Don’t be,” Pope softens his tone. The waitress walks over, setting a dessert down in the middle. You grab your fork, quickly taking a bite to avoid speaking and more. “I’m actually not sure of the street, but it’s in the Champs-Élysées neighborhood.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“Well, again, I’m hopeful,” Pope smiles. “How’s your dessert, sweetheart?”

“No,” Rafe warns as the first pet name leaves Pope’s lips. “Fuck no.”

“It’s delicious,” you answer

“Delicious, huh?” Rafe asks. “Careful, you. You’re makin’ me jealous.”

Your heart starts to race in your chest; the banging battling with Rafe’s secret conversation and Pope’s desperate attempt to compete with the man you wished you were sitting across from.

This should be a simple conversation with Pope, but at this moment, it feels nothing but. Your breathing tightens, body aching with want for Rafe.

“I feel bad, princess… he has no clue you’re mine.”

“Stop,” you whisper sharply to Rafe, though the corners of your lips twitch in spite of yourself.

“Stop what?” Pope asks, looking even more confused.

“Stop, I think I know them,” you nod to the entrance as an unknown couple walks in. Pope looks over his shoulder, and you take the opportunity to reach in your ear, digging out the earpiece before dramatically dropping it into your after-dinner coffee. It falls into the brew with a plop, the angle giving Rafe a clear view, catching your defiance. Your eyes drift from his back to your date as Pope turns back.

“Just can’t escape the office, can you?” He laughs. “Neither can I,” he sighs as you look back toward the door, seeing his partner from the firm standing next to her husband, waiting to be seated.

“It’s crazy, right,” you gossip as you lean in. The second you do, your phone vibrates in your purse. No question who it is. “I apologize,” you whisper, Pope quickly gesturing it’s okay.

Rafe: Now why did you do that?

You: You were distracting me.

Rafe: Maybe I’m meant to distract you sweetheart

Your fingers tightened around her phone, a small thrill shooting through you.

Maybe I’m meant to distract you?

You stuff your phone in your purse, determined to finish the date without Rafe wiping out every thought in your head until you’re done, but it’s useless.

Your mind was long gone. It wasn’t on Pope or the beautiful dinner, and at that moment, even without Rafe’s lust-laced words in your ear, everything started to blur. Your mind’s consumed with thoughts of only Rafe, Rafe, Rafe…

But most importantly, the realization that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Your phone buzzes again. Then again. Then again. Five messages, back to back. “I’m so sorry…” You sigh.

“It’s fine. Truly,” Pope assures once more. You swallow hard before finally caving and pulling your phone out of your purse again.

Rafe: I just need to say this.

Rafe: I like you

Rafe: I can’t do this.

Rafe: I can’t sit here and listen to you flirt with him.

Rafe: Tell me you feel it too. Tell me this isn’t just in my head.

You: I don’t know what to do.

Rafe: Yes you do. You just have to choose it.

Rafe: Choose me.

Rafe: I’m going to call you in ten seconds. Take it, and I’ll get you out of here.

Rafe: I’ll take care of you.

You watch your phone tremble in your hand as he promised, your adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Rafe Cameron.

You stare at the screen for a second longer. Then, before you can think about it anymore—you answer. Rafe’s voice is all business, but you could hear the smirk behind it.

“Hey, baby,” he greets you smoothly, “we have a problem. I need you now.”

You exhale shakily and nod, forcing yourself to look apologetic and worried as you glance up at Pope. “I—I’m so sorry. I have to go. There’s something I need to handle.”

Pope looks back at you, surprised but concerned. “Is everything alright? I-”

“I hope so,” you whisper, quickly grabbing your purse. You reach into your bag, pulling out your wallet.

“Please, I insist,” Pope stops you, resting his hand on your arm, and you can’t help but feel a slight tinge of guilt, quickly overshadowed by the thoughts of the man waiting for you just a few feet away.

You walk toward the door, floating through the thick crowd, until you hit open air, and before you can take another step, you're pulled in, Rafe’s lips pressing against yours, taking your breath away.

This kiss isn’t soft… It isn’t hesitant, either. Deep, commanding, hungry, possessive, desperate, anything and everything you could have wanted, shattering the pressure built between the two of you with a single exchange.

You gasp into his mouth as he pulls you in closer, pressing his muscular body against yours, pushing you against the chilled brick wall.

Rafe groans softly, his grip tightening on your hip, his other hand cradling the back of your neck, needing you close. You melt into him, your hands gripping his Gucci suit jacket, barely aware of the city bustling around you—your thoughts still revolving around the man you had hoped for weeks would see you as more than just a client whose sweet words weren’t just there to raise your confidence, and prepare you for someone else, but because he genuinely felt those things… and wanted you for himself.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless. Rafe lets out a low chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “I knew you’d take the call,” he whispers. You hear the purr of Rafe’s BMW roll up to the curb. “Let’s get you outta here, huh?” He asks, his voice hoarse and deep as his lips brush gently against yours.

“You said you were gonna take care of me. Is that a promise?” You whisper, feeling him smile against your lips.

“I swear.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

“You’re so perfect. You know that?” Rafe asks as he kisses your neck, making your pussy throb.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you whimper.

He chuckles against your hot skin, that same laugh that filled your ears during your date—driving you crazy then—doing nothing but make your need for him worse now.

“Goddamn, baby…” He mumbles as his big hand roams your curves. “I don’t know how I lasted this long,” he squeezes your breast in his large hand as he sucks off your bottom lip nice and slow. “I don’t know how I went this long without hearing you say my name like that either… Say it again,” he taunts as his hand cups your sex, making you moan for him.

“Rafe, please…” You whine.

“So fuckin’ needy for me, huh… No one else gets to see you like this. No one.”

“No one else,” you whisper breathily through a smile as he glides two thick fingers up your soaked slit. “Shit,” you whimper as he traces his fingers around your entrance. “I need you…”

“I can feel how much you need me, sweetheart. You’re shit at hiding it,” he smirks as he moves his hand higher, teasing your clit with the pads of his rough fingers.

Rafe hisses out a breath as you reach between the two of you, wrapping your fingers around the base of his thick dick, making him hiss out a breath. You stroke your hand up, pull to his fat tip, watching precum glisten and leak out of his slit onto your body.

“Am I the only one that needs something?” You whisper, feeling his hard cock twitch in your hand. You drop the other, running your finger through the little puddle before bringing it to your lips, sucking it clean, watching Rafe as he watches you.

“I need you so bad,” he whispers. “I can’t tell you how many nights I thought about this.”

You grab his neck, pulling him down to your lips, bringing him in closer. “I’ve thought about you every night, Rafe.”

“Every night, huh?” He asks.

“Every. Night-” Your words get lost in a moan as Rafe plunges two fingers into your soaked core, making you throw your head deep into the pillow.

He kisses your chest as he starts to fuck his fingers into you, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking harshly, making your back arch off the mattress.

He curls his long fingers inside you, pulling out moan after moan from his hand alone.

Rafe kisses down your body, making your heart pound in your chest as he gets lower and lower. Your legs draw in, but he grabs your thighs, pushing them into the mattress, holding you open to look down at your glossy cunt.

Rafe leans down on the mattress, biceps, and shoulders flexing from the angle of his body, his eyes set on yours from between your thighs as he gives you a few teasing licks.

“Holy shit,” you squeal, and just as you do, he wraps his big arms around your thighs, pulling your warmth toward his face.

Rafe kisses your clit before sucking down, making your lace your fingers into his hair, pulling at the root, guiding him closer. He drops one arm, making you gasp as he pushes his fingers inside your pussy— his mouth works on you as well.

Your head starts to spin—lightheaded from the sensation of his skilled tongue and digits.

“I’m close,” you whimper, making him moan into your heat.

The vibrations make you fall apart in an instant.

Rafe sucks down harshly as you flutter around his fingers, your vision blurry as stars dance in your eyes. “Rafe, fuck!” You cry, fighting against him slightly, but he only holds you closer, finger and tongue fucking you through your orgasm, straight into overstimulation ‘til tears start to cloud your eyes.

“That was beautiful, baby,” he mumbles against your heat, pressing teasing kisses on your clit, watching your body jump in response.

“Rafe…” You whimper as you look down at him. He looks up at you and smiles, lips glistening with your slick.

“Yeah, pretty?” He asks teasingly as he kisses your inner thigh.

“Fuck my pussy.”

Rafe’s eyes roll back at your demands and your taste lingering on his tongue. He grabs your body, guiding you without effort to your hands and knees, lifting your ass into the air.

He spanks you, the loud crack of his palm against your supple flesh filling the room. You arch your back, making him release a desperate groan as he looks down at you, eyeing your slick, watching your wetness leak down your inner thighs.

Rafe grips his thick dick in his hand, slapping it against your ass before running his velvety head up your thighs, sopping up the mess.

You gasp as he presses his tip in, feeling him stretch you out already. Your thighs trembles, your breathing shaky as you do the math, realizing how long it has been since you’ve had sex, let alone with anyone Rafe’s size.

Rafe pushes in, inch by inch, making your mouth fall open as your body stretches around him.

“Pussy’s just made for my cock, baby,” he mumbles as he presses his body flush with your ass when you’ve finally taken all of him.

You circle your hips, adjusting to his size, feeling his thick dick hit all the right spots. “Feels so damn good—”

“Can’t believe he almost got this…” He pulls his hips back, drawing out nice and slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as his big hands find your hips. “All fuckin’ mine-”

“Fuck!” You scream as he snaps his hips forward, the two of you moaning in unison as your pussy sucks him in.

Rafe starts to work him cock in your cunt at the perfect pace—his skin clapping against yours with every thrust, the sounds of your wet pussy squelching.

“Mmpfh…” You whine as your head falls forward. “Right there, baby.” Rafe picks up the pace, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

”Yeah, sweetheart? Right there?” He asks through a smirk. “What else does my girl want, huh?”

“Harder,” you whimper.

“Shit, baby,” he laughs breathlessly as he starts to drill into you. Your fingers claw at the sheets as you feel yourself just seconds away from your climax.

You feel an unfamiliar heat in your belly, and before you can think, your pussy releases, squirting all over the mattress and Rafe’s cock.

“Fuckkk,” he moans, dragging out the words as his body sloshes through the wet mess. “So good for me… Tell me, princess. Tell me no one else has ever fucked you like this. Tell me no one else will.”

“No one, Rafe,” you whimper. “Only—Oh god. Only you.”

Rafe pulls out fast, making you gasp as he tosses you to your back, thrusting himself back in before you can even come down from your high. “I wanna watch your face when you take my cum, baby,” he whispers against your lips.

You gasp as his fingers press against your clit, too, rubbing little circles on top as he throws his hips into you; your nails digging into his muscular back as he pounds your wet cunt.

Rafe pulls back slightly, looking down at you underneath him, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as you both get closer and closer to the edge.

Rafe presses his palm against your chest, feeling your heart hammer against it, the beat echoing his own. His hand slides higher, wrapping around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Rafe-” You gasp, letting out a choked moan. You grab your knees, pulling them up to your chest, making him stroke impossibly deep. “Please, Rafe. Fuck. Make me cum.”

“Say my name like that again, and I swear, I’ll never let you leave this fuckin’ bed again…” He groans through gritted teeth. “Cum for me.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, and your pussy pulses around his big cock. Rafe moans your name; his muscles strained as he cums deep inside.

Rafe rocks to a stop, his grip softening on your neck as his soft lips find yours. Rafe catches your whimpered breaths in his mouth, smiling softly against your lips before letting his tongue slip inside.

His tongue swirls with yours, making you feel like you could float away. You gasp again, his kiss as he rolls you quickly, pulling you onto his broad chest, his cock still throbbing inside.

“Holy shit,” he sighs breathlessly.

“Mmm… You're fired,” you giggle airily between soft kisses, making him chuckle.

“You’re firing me, princess?” He asks playfully as his hands smack and squeeze your ass. “How about this. I’ll work for free…”

“Oh yeah? You gonna make office visits?”

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he mumbles as he cups your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. “‘Course I will.”

“Mmm… You can stay,” you whisper.

“I can stay? You found the one, huh?” He asks sweetly as he looks up at you with love in his eyes.

“I found everything I needed, Rafe…”

“So did I.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

dividers | @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#💌 februrafey 💕😘#rafe cameron #rafe #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #older rafe cameron #older!rafe #older!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron obx #rafe x reader smut #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron outer banks

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kenyummy · 10 months ago

Text

BEACH DAY ꒰⚘݄꒱ BLUE LOCK

SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?

note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!

TODAY

is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.

So, you were heading to the beach.

The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.

It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed.

So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.

Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...

You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.

Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go.

You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.

You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.

You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.

With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.

They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.

Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.

You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.

Too bad this peace would not last for too long.

Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.

You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.

A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.

Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.

"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"

He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."

It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."

Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"

"YOU—!!!"

Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...

"Hello, Isagi."

Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."

He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"

He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"

He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.

Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids.

And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.

Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio.

Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).

"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."

"Get your eyes off my chest."

"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.

"You too, stupid crow."

"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."

You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."

"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"

He pauses. "Point taken."

Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around.

Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.

You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).

"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."

You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."

Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be.

"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."

Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.

Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.

"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."

Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."

He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"

You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."

He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."

"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."

He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."

"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."

You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."

He says, but you do not catch it.

Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"

The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"

"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"

His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."

Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."

"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"

You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."

He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."

"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."

You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"

You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.

Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.

Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.

Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).

You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children.

You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.

You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]."

You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.

"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."

Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."

He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."

You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."

The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.

You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.

You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment.

It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."

He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."

The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"

Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?

Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"

You laugh. "I know."

The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.

Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.

"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"

You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.

He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek.

You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.

You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.

Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back.

You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."

You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."

Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.

You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.

Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.

Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"

You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."

"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"

You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."

The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"

Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."

You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"

He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."

"You sound like you care about that more than me."

"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."

You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"

He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."

You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.

Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.

You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.

"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.

"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"

Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"

The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"

He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.

You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."

Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.

Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"

Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.

You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"

Huh? Ready for what—!!!

You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness.

You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.

Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.

You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.

You've never felt prouder of yourself.

You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.

His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.

"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."

You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.

Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.

You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"

He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."

Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.

He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.

His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."

He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.

His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.

His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.

The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two.

It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.

You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.

Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.

The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.

Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.

Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.

"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."

When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.

He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.

Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.

Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.

The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."

He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"

He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.

Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?

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frmisnow · 7 months ago

Text

1:37AM : BAROLO ! - (nsfw)

summary. you had been avoiding your ceo as best as you could after the intimate drunk meeting you had shared, so what do you do now when you both are forced on a business trip?

notes. second chapter! hope y'all enjoy🍷✶𝄞

warnings/includes. (3.3k words / smut!) non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smoking (reader's first time), masturbation heavely implied, fingering, giving m. head, pussy eating, drunk!!!, tad bit of angst at end

"we didn't sleep together, you fell asleep on my coach, i wasn't going to take advantage of you"

his words from a few days ago remain firmly in your head. you had done so good at avoiding him: taking the long way to not walk by his office, instantly running off to god knows where when you saw him - only for the very man you've been dodging so well, to ask you to go on a business trip to milan.

the flight was quiet.

the only thing that was hearable was the sound of a lighter getting light up every hour or so. he smoked.

it was his private jet after all, you didn't blame him. your mind trails off to your ex once more, you had thought you had managed to get rid of him in your mind completely, but he always managed to sneak back in.

he resented smoking, called smokers 'self-indulged assholes' if they did it in public. he was the kind of man who thought the world revolved around sheerly him, to think that another person would calmly invade said-world with a bit of smoke, was beyond unforgivable for him.

you glance towards jungkook, taking in the calm assurance in his eyes as he takes another slow puff. he seemingly notices your stare, his tone soothing, "do you want one?"

you physically feel your ex trying to pull the hand you're reaching out to take what jungkook offered, back. but he doesn't succeed, you win. you had never smoked before, you go based of what you've seen in pop culture. lightning, drag, wasn't it?

you can visably see jungkook fighting a smile while he reaches out for the cig, hanging it between his very own lips as he leans forward in his seat, one of his hands gently guiding your fingers so the cigarette was now in between your own plush lips

you slowly breathe, the smoke stinging your lungs and making you cough. he lets out a tsk, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he looks at you from under his eyelashes, "inhale deeper," the voice not mad, more like gentle scolding.

the hotel room was mostly quiet, besides the soft hum of the AC and the faint noises of the dazzling city through the open window. you both had shared a few more words earlier, incrediably vague, until you parted ways to your respective rooms.

you couldn't quite fall asleep, you blamed it on loud milan when you in reality couldn't stop thinking about his fingers which had been on your lips, your fingers trace over them, imagining his tattoed ones doing just that. you had to ask him what the history behind those was, next time. next time?

your hands wander to your tits, where his eyes had lingered more then once if your memory didn't fail you. and you imagine his hand wrapping around yours, guiding you.

"i want you," the words you had whispered against his mouth replay in your head multiple times.

just as your fingers trailed further, there was an abrupt knock on the door. you glance at your phone: it's 1:37 a.m.

as you open the door you see a image of your boss, you haven't quite seen yet. jungkooks hair is visabily messed up, his shirt loose around the neckline. "couldn't sleep," he mumbles, his tone sounding almost like an confession, he shouldn't say, "do you want to take a walk with me?"

you give in, you don't want to give much thought into how weird it was for a boss to ask his employee out on a walk at almost 2am.

the uber drops you off at a 24hr shop which seemed out of part for the milan you've seen so far (through car windows)

"if you want a snack or a smoke or something," he looks at you, "and then we walk"

you don't know what prompts you to say, "wine" with so much confidence but you do regardless. please make me feel like that night, i want you the words linger in your head shortly, words you'd never say out loud.

if he's surprised he didn't show it, moreover he looked satisfied, pleased with your answer. and that's exactly what you liked about jungkook: he knew how to read the room. did he hear you touch yourself? maybe. did he mention it? no.

he leads you deeper into the store, towards the back where there were rows of alcoholic beverages, the lights dim. he moves to stand behind you, his chest almost touching your back, as he reaches to grab a bottle of barolo from a high shelf.

the music in the background is some indie tune, you had heard before, you nod your head along to the sound absentmindedly.

you can see him smile at the corner of your eye, not a smile that was mocking or finding something funny, more filled with general admiration.

"you like this song?" he asks, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper almost as if it was a secret while he placed the bottle down to the cashiers table, pulling out his card, black.

you nod with a genuine smile.

you end up settling down on a bench in a nearby park, opening the bottle. you sit crosslegged, looking over the park at night, genuinely intrested, "so what music do you like?"

"i like...indie stuff, mostly," jungkook responds, turning his head to look at you, the light night breeze running over his hair, "but i have a soft spot for a few italian punk rock songs from when i was younger."

"ever seen any of them live?" you ask, taking a sip from the bottle, "y'know you are in milan after all"

he can firmly smell your perfume. the same one that had stuck to his coach for days which made it simply unbearable to sit on it, without thinking about you.

jungkook laughs, the sound soft, almost as if it wasn't entirely voluntary. he runs a hand through his hair, the ends just falling back into his face. "no," he says, tilting his head back a little, "i haven't."

"maybe you should," you respond casually. you don't know why you were giving such tips to a business man with a multi-million empire to his knees. did he even have time to go to silly little concerts? what kind of life did he live?

he laughs again, you loved the sweet sound of it, "maybe i should," raising the bottle to drink once more, "would you go with me?"

you reach out to take another large sip, you need some more alcohol in your system to answer him, "maybe"

he watches you intently as you reach for the bottle again, his eyes flickering to your throat as you tilt your head back to drink.

"maybe," he says again, smiling to himself, "that's so vague of you, maybe."

handing the bottle back to you, repeating, "maybe," his voice teasing.

you repeat the same word once more as you both laugh. you can feel the alcohol begin to warm you from the inside, the feeling of slight dizziness setting in.

meanwhile he's looking at you, his eyes wandering over your face, resting on your mouth, the way your lips are tinted red from drinking the wine.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you mutter though your tone grazed on something reminding a joke. stupid fucking question.

jungkook's smile remains if not widening while he moves closer, "how am i looking at you?"

"like you want to fuck me," you mumble, chuckling at your words like it was a ridiciulous thought on it's own.

"does that bother you," he whispers, his voice low, his words just a little bit slurred from the alcohol, "knowing i want you like that."

you raise your eyebrows, taking another sip, "so you're admitting it?"

jungkook raises his eyebrows, copying your movement, a lazy, almost cocky smile on his face. he grabs the bottle from your hand, raising it to his lips, drinking a mouthful of wine, holding eye contact with you as he does. and you're convinced he wants to see you dead.

he hands the bottle back to you, his smile still present on is face, "yes," he says, his voice low, the sounds almost like a soft moan, "I'm admitting it."

"you're actually so sexy when you're like this," you respond, clearly just as intoxicated as he was. 'like this' when you are not scolding me for not bringing the right documents, is the part you leave out.

he laughs, louder if that wasn't the alcohol talking. "sexy when I'm drunk," he teases, his words slurred, "is that it?"

"maybe," you babble which just makes the both of you giggle again.

he takes the bottle out of your hand, setting it down on the ground, the empty glass making a small clinking sound as it hits the concrete.

"you're drunk," he says, his words still a little slurred, the sound teasing, "i think you need to shut up."

you grin at this man's sheer audacity, replying, "i think you need to learn how to take a compliment properly"

jungkook just moves closer, not responding for a few seconds until you were so close that your noses touched, "you like compliments?"

he practically makes you lie down on that damn uncomfortable bench, "you want me to tell you how sexy you are? cause i will"

"i won't fuck you on a bench, kook"

"i never get to be just kook," he mumbles, something reminding a pout on his face, an adorable sight. "i'm always boss, or sir."

you don't know how to respond, you want him to be kook to you but that is something that is practically out of your control. so you moan.

you can hear jungkook say something — something about the city, something aboout the driver's taste of music? the words slip through your head as soon as they are said and all you manage to do is laugh.

the car feels to fast, milan is way to blurry and for a second you seriously ask yourself if you had taken any drugs. jungkooks hand slides over your thigh as you tilt your head, letting out a breathy chuckle.

the chuckle turns into a suppressed moan as his fingers brush over your underwear. you can barerly think straight, dare tell him to stop though you wouldn't even want to, even if you could.

you nod or at least try to; you didn't know why in the first place, it’s hard to tell if your head is moving or if you’re just imagining it. your eyes are half-closed, barely able to focus on his face, but you can feel his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties, brushing against your slick, aching core. "you're so wet f' me"

you make a mental note to rate the uber driver five stars later, because of the sheer noises that man had to hear. you were incrediably grateful for the music covered it up at least a bit.

just as you were about to cum, the car came to a sharp stop. the poor driver's voice pulls you back to reality, announcing you've arrived to the hotel.

jungkook brings his juiced fingers to his lips, licking them with a small 'pop' noise. for a second you actually consider pushing him onto the dirty ground in front of the hotel and fucking him right then but you regain compusure through a groan.

you both stumble through the lobby if you saw it properly one of the large clocks showed it was 2:51am but there was a big chance that your eyes were fooling you.

he practically pushes you towards the elevator as the door closes, jungkook looks adorably confused at all the various floor buttons, his finger unsurerly moving from one to the other.

"don't think," you pull him closer by his shirt while jungkook's hands instantly craddle your face, no thoughts in his head. you press as many random buttons as you could while he presses his lips onto yours.

his hands get tangled in your hair, he pulls you even closer as if he wants to breathe your soul in, moaning into your mouth.

the elevator opens with a little 'ding' and you have to look around to see if it's the right floor, you had surprisingly gotten lucky. the hallway lights automatically turn on at your movement, they feel way to bright.

you both reach the door of his room as he fumbles with they keycard, trying to slide it into the lock, cursing under his breath whilst you laugh. the door refuses to open which just makes him release a giggle, cute very untypical, "how do these even work"

logicaly he should be a man who has opened multiple hotel doors like this before but it was most certaintly the alcohol in his system that made everything a bit to fuzzy to handle. jungkook finally manages to slide the card into the door, the light turning green with a small click.

he pulls you with him, tugging you towards the bed, his movements messy as he almost falls once on his way. flopping down onto the covers, pulling you on top so you're straddling him.

it's a pretty view, him under you. he really did look hypnotized in a way whilst you ran your fingers over his facial features, they are not as rough as you thought, on closer inspection.

"you got to many clothes on," you mumble, removing your own shirt and shorts in a clumsy haste.

"then take them off"

you grin, your fingers moving to his shirt to pull it over his head, the action surprisingly slow and tender though it was probably the wine making your mind all foggy.

jungkook looks up to you like you are the moon and the sun, his eyes droopy, his words a stark contrast to his loving gaze, "you're taking to long, c'me here"

"you are in no position to give me orders," you reply, working on his pants.

his head falls back against the sheets, the smile on his face evident, "i think i am, i'm the big, mean boss man"

big, mean boss man - that's how you need to save him in your contacts, you chuckle at the thought, pulling away his boxers. his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing with need.

"shut up or no head," you don't wait for his response, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss onto the tip before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste and texture.

jungkooks hands tighten in your hair, guiding you with a mix of need and tenderness while he bucks his hips. you move your head up and down with precision, taking him deeper with each passing minute.

he curses, curses in a manner you've never seen a man like him do. and you feel a sense of pride in knowing that you have this man practically wrapped around your finger or better said — mouth.

his release is sweet, warm. you swallow each drop especially when he asks you to clean him up, you lick it all off. here and there you look up to him with your lashes and he moans each time.

you can firmly feel something shift in the air when you release him with that little 'pop' noise, reminding of how he left you without an orgasm in that damn uber. at least you had made him cum.

following, he gently pushes you onto the bed. you look over to your right, evidently amused noticing a closed wine bottle on his night desk. perhaps it automatically came with the hotel, it seemed expensive.

a hazy thought lingers in your mind, a blend of the lack of sleep and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. you reach out for the bottle, fingers grasping the cool, smooth glass.

with a tipsy giggle you uncork the wine, bringing it to your lips to get a quick taste before ultimately pouring about a good one third of it over your tits.

you can barerly make out jungkook's face, why did you mind seem so hazy? but you can hear his words, "you're a mess" his tone isn't insulting rather he says it like it was a just a mere fact.

but he calmly licks the liquid of you with the same ease as you had done with his cum.

“such a fucking mess,” he repeats, his words softer now, almost affectionate, as he sucks his way down the curve of your tit, "my mess"

his hands wrap around your thighs, putting them on his shoulders. he raises his eyebrows at your state, "all for me?" it sounded like a question though it was clear he didn't expect an answer — he certaintly didn't wait for one either.

the feeling of his hot, wet tongue against your core is a stark contrast to the coldness of the wine-soaked skin in combination with the ac, creating a delicious tension that had you whining for more.

jungkook’s hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he works his mouth over you, each flick of his tongue and suck of his lips calculated to drive you to the edge of sanity. he alternates between gentle, teasing licks and more aggressive, demanding sucks, making sure you’re fully engulfed in pleasure, one way or another.

jungkook eats you out like it's a part of his job, with much care and ease. an grunt or a groan vibrating against you more often then not.

his name slips over your tongue multiple times, and you would've been embarrassed for your porn-like moans if it wasn't for the release washing over you.

it falls over you in one motion and it would've felt like to much if it weren't for jungkook: jungkook, who's fingers wander over your thighs and tummy gently as if trying to bring you back on earth. jungkook, who gives you all the time in the world and whispers reassuring little sweet nothings against the sensitive skin.

when he sees you're somewhat ready to function again, his arms softly lie you onto him, one of his hands working through your hair attentively while his other reached out and lit up a cigarette.

the room has a special scent — wine, sex cigs.

jungkook takes slow, deliberate drags as you trace patterns over his chest, circles, hearts. his fingers absentmindely moving to lightly drum over your back while he takes another hit.

“want a puff?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, and without thinking, you nod, your brain swimming in a delightful stupor. he brings the cigarette to your lips, and you take a tentative drag, the smoke filling your lungs.

“breathe it in, babe” he murmurs, the nickname slipping from his lips like a forbidden secret. “like you did before.”

you do as he says, managing it properly this time as he gives you an approving hum instantly going in for a kiss.

you wake up with sunlight on your face, your first instinct is to smile, the curtains were open, did you forget to close them yesterday?

but as your senses sharpen, you realize something. something: or rather, someone is pressed against you. panic bubbles inside you as you register that jungkook lies beneath you, deep asleep, a peaceful smile grazing his face.

what had you done?

thankfully you remembered everything, though it was much more a curse then a blessing. you hadn’t wanted to cross this line.

there was no future here — he only desired you when you were both drunk.

and what was even worse was that you actually felt your heart clench when you looked at his clueless, oblivious face.

you wanted, no- you needed to disappear before the reality of this situation hits the both of you. it was a dick-move but that was what he had done that night, wasn't it?

but just as you begin to shift, a low, sleepy murmur escapes his lips, and he stirs beneath you. his eyes flutter open, a lazy smile making it's way onto his lips as he registers you on top of him, blissfully unaware of your inner conflict.

"good morning, babe," he reaches forward to brush one strand of yours behind your ear, you were convinced there was nothing currently working behind those eyes, "did you sleep well?"

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904

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victorborkowski · 2 years ago

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annnddd suddenly i think i have the hyperfixation motivation to finally write chapter 2 of bringing a bow and arrow to a gunfight

#thank fucking GOD!!!!!!!#summer's text tag #i cant wait to get far enough one day that i can cover harbor/astra/skye trip to omega earth -> aftermath of that -> gekko recruitment #because then i can write harbor mentoring gekko -> gekko catching the sova/harbor vibe #'hey coach why does sova call you babygirl' 'let's stop talking kid'

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ttjisung · 23 days ago

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CANCUN p. jisung

richkid!park jisung x richkid!fem reader (e2l)

in which a trip to southern mexico along with your brother's obnoxious friend becomes more than you can handle when you both release your stress.

cw: MDNI! SMUT! my longest fic so far for my boyfie's birthday :3, fingering, exhibitionism (you don't get caught), unprotected sex, dry humping, public sex, dom jisung for the element of surprise, you are honestly really snobby and annoying and jisung is too, even though he tries to hide it. (wc: 5.7k)

For the past week and half, you’ve woken up smiling with a pep in your step – it was finally summer! The only time available to feel somewhat happy as a college student had arrived, after months of long lectures and painfully boring labs, and you weren’t looking to waste it droning miserably around an isolated campus. The opportunity to travel was offered to you the second day of your break, in the form of a message from your brother, Chenle.

Yo. We’re hitting up the beach house in Cancun if you want to come. You can invite someone too, just let me know. Dad’s paying

Not even ten minutes later, you and Ningning were at the mall scouting for cute bikinis. Deciding on a light pink two piece with a flared miniskirt on the bottom, you didn’t bother looking at the price tag before passing it to the worker. Truth be told, you hadn’t looked at your bank account since you were allowed to get one. You knew it was always covered, and you had sworn to never be one of those rich kids who are ashamed of their wealth and call themselves “comfortable”. You figured if you could enjoy life and travel with your best friend every semester, why fight it?

“Lele better have gotten us each a first class window seat. If I get middle I will slice his throat.”

Ningning mindlessly nodded to your obnoxious complaints, holding her phone up high to record a pre-trip transition tiktok, not bothering turning her volume down as the noise rang out loudly. “-Ugh, and then he was like, you only get to check in two bags but like, Ning that’s so unfair. Like I need more so I can bring back gifts for the girls.” This time Ningning actually looked in your direction, voicing out a small mmm to let you know she agreed.

The both of you sported similar airport outfits – comfy pink sweatpants alongside a white shirt, the matching outfit a tribute you had planned for the trip. Chenle spotted you immediately, yelling out your name and throwing his hands up in the air. As your eyes locked, you rushed over, shoving your bags onto the bench and hugging him. “Ewww, get off me.” The attempted-sweet moment was tarnished as he pushed you off, deciding to not greet Ningning either.

Rolling your eyes at his annoying antics, you waved at his friends who were scattered along the same sitting area. Scanning their faces, you didn’t miss the way one particular friend didn’t wave back – Park Jisung, who for some reason swore you were his mortal enemy. He simply looked your way, scoffed, and pulled his phone out again. Your plans of slapping him and pulling him by the hair were interrupted as Jaemin, one of your brother’s nicer friends stepped in front of you, smiling widely.

“Little Zhong, it’s been so long. When’d we last see you?” “Umm… I don’t really… know.” He laughed, and you giggled along, engaging in small talk. Had Jaemin not been blocking you, you would’ve seen the way Jisung’s eyes squinted sharply at your direction, spanning between you and his friend quickly before averting his view.

After leaving your bags with your brother, you pulled Ningning along to go airport shopping. It was a higher end company, and of course you were part of the membership, meaning you all shared a private lounge. The company offered many stores for members only, ranging from Coach to Chanel, and that’s where you immediately headed together.

“I think I need a bag for the trip, I looked up the trends in South Mexico right now and my purse just isn’t aligning.” “Oh my God, same. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing that five month old red one, it would’ve been so embarrassing.” Your snobbish comments blended in with the echoes of older women who had access to the same membership, and after one hour of touching authentic leather clutches to Greek weaved trendy tote bags, you were finally satisfied with your three new bags (Nigning with her two).

The whole group decided to meet up an hour before necessary to sit together until the boarding time, an effort encouraged by Mark who said he ended up in a small bug-infested motel next to an airport once because he lost his group and missed his plane. That scenario being unironically your worst fear, you were quick to hop on board and agree, pulling Ningning by the hand to head towards their lounge.

Unsurprisingly, all of the others were gone, probably also shopping or stuffing their faces at the supreme sushi buffet, leaving you two alone. As the minutes passed by, you were starting to get annoyed, not wanting to end up in the small motel Mark described. “Ning, go look for anyone else. I’ll stay here.” “What the hell? Why do you get to stay here while I look?” “Umm, because one of us has to, dummy. Did you forget about like… bombs and stuff? Airport rules. Duh.” Rolling her eyes, Ningning crossed her arms and stormed off, muttering under her breath as she walked out of view.

You grinned as she was finally completely gone, pulling out a sleeping eye mask and moving onto the chaise lounge, on your back. A looming shadow was what woke you up, so intense you swear you could see it with your eyes closed. Pulling your eye mask up, you were awoken to the sight of Park Jisung hovering over your body on his knees, head over yours casting a shadow.

“What?”

The question made him scoff once more, looking away and shaking his head before simply getting up and walking away. “Hey! Don’t walk away! You were watching me sleep, creep.” You rushed to get up, fully discarding the mask and standing up to follow him around the medium-sized room. “Don’t flatter yourself,” his deeper voice rang out, continuing to walk away, “I was just checking cause Chenle asked me t-” He was interrupted as you finally caught up to him, holding his arm in your hand and tugging him around.

A swelling frustration built up in you as you saw his eyes, full of disinterest and boredom. It was one thing to bother you constantly, it was another to do so while feigning nonchalance. Somehow, your brother’s best friend had managed to get on every single nerve inside of your body, and you seriously began to worry about what would happen when your body would run out on the trip.

“Look, it’s already annoying enough that we have to be near each other these next three weeks. Can we please just avoid each other?” The truce you offered was your last hope, pleading at him in a desperate manner. Jisung looked away with a hand on his chin, as if to seriously think about what you requested, looking at you once again before his smile cracked, eyes squinted slightly as he shook his head, floppy bangs swaying side to side, “No.”

You huffed before letting go of his arm with a strong force, turning around and walking towards your new stack of bags, choosing one off the top to hold before attempting to storm off in the direction of Ningning. At this point you were seriously starting to consider cancelling the trip. You’d probably be able to convince your parents to send you two to France instead for the fourth time; yet one thing that your summer house in Cancun had that your three story, antique French apartment didn’t was Mango, the orange fat cat who resided on the property that you adored. Since you were a kid, you looked forward to every Spring break because it meant visiting Mango and sleeping on the beach with him under the hot Mexican Sun. Now though, it seems like he’ll have to be your distraction for Jisung’s aggravating antics.

If you had to pick one thing about the male that infuriated you the most, it’d be his hypocrisy. Even you admitted that you were spoiled, not defending yourself when the topic came up, yet Jisung wouldn’t miss a chance to look down at you in disapproval, acting like he was superior when he was the exact same thing as you – an entitled, superficial rich kid who ended up with everything he could dream of.

Ningning was paid for by your parents, but Chenle revealed to you through text that his friends provided for their own selves, using their supposed money that truly just came out of their parents pockets instead, including Jisung who never failed to remind you you were nothing but a product of wealth.

Although you had half a mind to curse him out, you were honestly tired and just wanted to find your best friend to complain to. Jisung had to ruin apparently every one of your plans as his larger hand wrapped around your shoulder, this time stopping you from marching away. “Wait, hold on. My bad, okay? I’ll agree with you,” his voice sounded smoother, more empathetic as he pulled you back near the couch he caught you sleeping on. “Really?” Your hope was restored as he nodded his head, “Yeah, on one condition.” “What would that be?”

Rather than answering you, he simply pushed you onto the seat, getting on his knees again and hovering in between your legs once more. You felt his breath on your face as he stopped, his eyes scanning your face before lowering to your lips. A grin grew on his mouth, though he tried to hide it by biting his own lip.

Without a warning, his hands moved to your shoulders, pulling you into him as he left a small peck to the corner of your mouth. Still in shock and confusion, you didn’t push him off which he took as encouragement to place another one on the other corner. Finally regaining your consciousness, you shrieked and pushed him away, looking at him with wide eyes.

“What the hell, Jisung? What is wrong with you?” The male rolled his eyes at your loudly yelled questions, leaning into your ear instead. “You can act like you haven’t felt any tension between us all you want, but I won’t let you ignore me this time.” He whispered, standing up on his feet and staring at your face before walking off to where his own bags were.

The rest of the hour was spent in the bathroom, frantically retelling the story to Ningning who was just as shocked as you were, yet according to her it was only a matter of time before that evil man tried something on you.

When you two rejoined the larger group to finally board, you were weirdly quiet, avoiding the stare of Jisung who was watching you intently. It was the first time he’d seen you so panicked, so distraught. It was then that he realized he really liked the feeling of having control over you. While he was smiling to himself, predicting what a great trip it would be, you were shivering in your seat, dreading what was yet to come.

All of your worries faded away as you stared at the green sign displayed above the road Chenle was driving on, Bienvenidos a Cancun. It had been a while since you were last here, the humid hot air and the bright sun almost unfamiliar to the point where it would’ve upset you. Unfortunately, your group was too large to commute together, so you split up into two groups.

You waved goodbye to Renjun, Haechan, Mark and Jeno at the airport parking lot, entering the backseat of a large black vehicle that adorned a sign with your last name on it, clearly dedicated to you and your brother. Jaemin sat next to Chenle in the passenger’s seat, leaving you sandwiched between Ningning and Jisung. Chenle insisted you’d sit there, saying your guest should have the window seat. You nearly choked him out through the console of the car.

Ningning was asleep in minutes, clearly jetlagged from the plane ride, the soft chattering coming from the front of the car probably lullaby-ing her into slumber. This left you awkwardly pressed to her side, trying your best to avoid contact with the male next to you who had been observing you ever since you all landed.

A bump came up ahead on the road, causing you to shift up slightly into the air, landing next to Jisung’s legs. Thanks to the microshorts you were wearing (curse the torturous summer weather), your bare thigh was pressing against Jisung’s choice of long jorts. The length of his attire stopped your skin from touching his, leading to a relieved sigh, yet it was interrupted by a heavy breath as he nonchalantly moved his closer hand towards your thigh, awkwardly placing it between yours and his.

Confused by his choice of placement, you were about to complain yet words no one would ever hear were caught in your throat as the car came into contact with another speed bump, this time lifting Jisung’s hand directly onto your bare, plush skin. “Hey! Take it off.” He simply shrugged at your whispered demand, “It’s the car, I can’t control it.”

The daggers in your eyes simply egged Jisung on as he lightly pinched your thigh, chuckling lightly to himself as you smacked his hand away finally.

Once the car ride was over and Ningning was shaken awake by your own hands, the two of you ran inside the large house, speeding into the hallway to choose your rooms first. You settled for one of the two rooms on the second story, opting for the one with a balcony facing the blue crystal water of the beach. Ningning ended up on the first story in the room closest to the indoor pool, yelling something about her daily morning laps.

One by one, Chenle along with his friend group entered the large house, claiming their own territory quickly. Jeno, Haechan and Jaemin decided to stay in the rooms in the basement, and a large part of you believed it was due to the theater room that had a PS5 connected to a surround-sound speaker system. Mark took the room next to Ningning, the two of them bonding over their swimming exercise routine. Renjun took the room furthest into the hallway, followed by Chenle who chose the one in between his and Mark’s.

It was a pure coincidence that Jisung ended up residing in the last room available, upstairs and right next to yours. You hadn’t even realized it was him until he knocked on your door, pushing it open before you could say anything and leaning on the frame.

“There is no way you’re next to me. Switch rooms with someone now!” Your words were pointed and firm, suddenly covered in the confidence you lacked at the airport as you stood up, throwing your unpacked clothing onto the king sized bed. Jisung simply snickered to himself, “It’s cute that you think that’s up to you to decide. I’m comfy here though, and I already unpacked so no can do, sorry.” “Why do you enjoy making my life a living hell?” “Because it’s funny.” His responses only angered you further, causing you to stand up and slam the door on his face.

Choosing a better method to unwind than yelling in your brother’s best friend’s face, you put on a cute bikini with a lace cover-up, rushing out into the hallway when the coast was clear and heading towards Ningning’s room, who was also already unpacked and dressed in a cute sundress.

No words were exchanged as you two ran through the back door onto the beach, giggling with each other as your feet met the warm sand. Ningning placed her tote bag down near the water, laying down two towels and sitting on one of them.

It was no surprise when you heard the shouts of the rest of the group, each male running towards the beach as well. They all placed their miscellaneous beach items next to you, not bothering to place down a towel and simply sitting in the warm sand in a circle.

Truthfully, you were already sick of the overwhelming testosterone that engulfed you both, and apparently your best friend was as well as she shouted out a challenge, “Last one to dive into the water has to do everybody else’s laundry.” Ignoring the fact that your vacation home came accompanied with a house maid, which of course it did, the large majority of the men stood up, racing through the sand until you could barely see their heads in the water.

Three stayed back – Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun. The last had already occupied himself with a book in his hand, laying on his stomach on his towel (he was the only one that brought one out of all of his friends). Jisung was simply staring at you with a blank expression, causing you to roll your eyes and look away. He momentarily looked away as well, although your next words pulled his attention back quickly. “Jaems, can you help me put some sunscreen on?” The older male next to you nodded, smiling and grabbing the bottle from your hand. He shifted so that your back would be facing him, squirting out a generous amount of the lotion before nudging your hair aside, spreading it onto the back of your neck first.

His hands roamed towards the small of your back, spreading the lotion all over you before gently rubbing it in with his palms. Soft sighs escaped from your mouth, your eyes closed as you leaned into his hands that were essentially massaging you.

Jisung was annoyed. It was one thing when you provoked him specifically, but to display your content sighs so loudly was another. He’s not sure why the sight of his close friend’s large hands running up your hips, under your arms, everywhere, had him so riled up. It couldn’t be jealousy – you were the most infuriating person he knew, yet as he quickly stood up, rushing over to the water, it was clear that he was more bothered than he let off.

Soon enough, the hot sun faded out into a serene, dark sky, and the group had once again returned to the house momentarily. Tired from several hours of messing around in the water, Chenle announced that he would order food. It was Ningning’s suggestion that they eat it on the beach chairs settled right outside of the house, under the balcony of your room. Although you hadn’t swam as much as the others, you were honestly tired of the socialization and chose to head to your room instead. Jisung was confused – and maybe even disappointed – when he noticed you weren’t outside with the rest, deciding he’d check in on you (and aggravate you a bit more).

His long legs carried him upstairs, leading him to the familiar door of your room that was slightly ajar. Inside, you laid on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. His grin grew, the palm of his hand pushing harshly onto the door until it opened completely.

Your eyes were quick to look up at the source of the noise, rolling once you realized it was Jisung. “What is it now?” “Nothing, can’t a guy just want to hang out with his dear friend?” Your nose scrunched up as his response, “I’m not your friend, you’ve made it clear with your relentless bullying all of these years.” He pushed himself off of the door frame and into your room, stepping until he was right next to your bed, standing still next to your laying body.

“C’mon, I’m not that bad.” He joked, hoping you didn’t catch the way his eyes roamed down your barely clothed stomach to your smooth legs. You did catch it, yet refused to mention it in fear of a scenario like the one in the lounge repeating. “Look, come here.” He leaned down, grabbing your hand in his and pulling until you were unwillingly sitting on the bed. He didn’t stop until you were completely off of the mattress, dragging you towards the open doors that led to your balcony.

You could hear the buzz from below it, belonging to the large group eating some authentic tacos that costed a hundred pesos each. Jisung stopped once you both were fully outside, and you stared up at him, confused by his actions.

He caught your gaze, smirking down at you before lifting a finger to his lips, as if to motion you to be quiet. That confused you even more, you weren’t even being loud?

You suppose his next actions explained his weird antics as he flipped you to lean against the railing of the balcony, your nearly-naked back now facing his clothed chest as you were forced to look out towards the beach. He used the hands he flipped you with to hold onto both of your hips, pushing you flush against him and placing his head on your shoulder, almost looking down at the crowd from behind you.

“They look so busy, hmm?” You squinted your eyes at his question, wondering why he even cared. “I mean, I guess so…” “Would truly be a shame if they were to look up and see us right now, right?” You tried to tilt your head to look at him, yet he took one of his hands and placed it on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down. “We aren’t doing anything… so not really.” You wish you could ignore the way the laugh he let out didn’t run straight to your core, yet it was hard as his grip on you grew, pulling your body closer into his until you felt the pressure of his hands build up.

You jumped at the feeling of his hand leaving your hip, instead roaming towards the end of your ruffled bikini bottom. Nothing could hide the small gasp that released from your mouth as it snaked over towards the front of your body, slowly lowering itself until he was fully covering your clothed core. “Shh, don’t want them to hear, do you?” The small twinge of pleasure along with the ache building inside of you blinded you to the small smirk heard in his voice.

His voice was muffled with your hair as he pushed his face closer to you, his breath evident against your ear as the grip in his other hand grew, applying more pressure to the base of your neck.

His long fingers were now gently rubbing you through the material of your bikini, ever so slightly moving until they met your clothed clit. Your breathing grew heavier, knuckles turning white as you held onto the railing, praying that the dark sky covered the possible view your friends had downstairs. The view of Jisung’s hand finally pulling the fabric aside, fingers gliding against the slick that had built up from his actions. A small moan was muffled by his other hand that moved from your neck to your mouth, now confidently rolling your sensitive clit with his thumb as two of his fingers drifted lower, slowly but surely finding their way inside of you.

You had truly underestimated the size of Jisung’s hands as he built up his pace, thrusting the two fingers in and out. It was only when you felt an unfamiliar, cold sensation that you realized he had left a ring on one of them – probably the friendship ring Chenle forced all of them to buy and wear.

His breathing grew as a reaction to the way your body instinctively bucked against his, your ass now pressed against his painful erection. He lightly whined into your shoulder, increasing the speed at which he moved his fingers inside of you, hoping you’d continue to build the friction between the two of you.

Your moans quickened as well, fading to breathless gasps as the cold of his jewelry met with the warmth of your walls, leaving you a mess at his mercy. Just as you continued to press into him, craving more than just his long curved fingers, you heard a voice from below. “Should we go check in on Ji and N/n?”

Curse Jaemin and his thoughtful concern, you began to pull away from Jisung, afraid of getting caught. What you hadn’t expected was for Jisung to push back into you, the hand that had covered your mouth now holding your hips, bucking his own to the fast pace he set, desperately searching for release as his fingers continued to bully their way inside of you.

“Ji… Jisung, stop! They’ll… Th- They’ll catch us…” You struggled to let your words out, growing desperate as well, his fingers reaching so deep inside of you that you felt like you were going to pass out from the pleasure. The added danger of knowing you might get walked into was your final push as your mouth released a final whine, folding against the railing you held onto as you attempted to catch your breath.

Jisung was too focused to stop, continuing to rut into you, his fingers sliding out and moving towards his mouth instead. He lifted his head off your neck to suck onto them, swirling his tongue to fully enjoy the taste of you. Without a warning, and quite frankly ignoring your pleas of overstimulation, he thrusted his covered bulge into you once more, groaning into his own fingers as he came in his shorts.

He stood against you for a minute, the two of you catching your breath and attempting to process what just happened, yet the sound of several footsteps rushing up the stairs and near your doorway had you pushing him away, running into your room and picking up the closest pair of pants to put on.

Ningning’s eyebrow was raised when she stepped into your room, suspiciously locking eyes with you before looking at Jisung, continuing to observe the two of you harshly. Your heart beating almost covered the noise of Chenle, who was demanding you and Jisung to join them all downstairs to bond. Wanting to escape the heavy atmosphere hanging around you two after what had just happened, you were quick to agree, running down the stairs and out the door.

The morning after came soon, the bright sunlight that poured into your room waking you up from a scandalous dream about Jisung that you would never share with anyone. You were so embarrassed – you were supposed to be the one to bitch Jisung, not the other way around, so to admit that you came on his fingers, more importantly that you enjoyed it, proved difficult.

Both Ningning and Jisung stared at you weirdly as you announced you felt sick, therefore you would not be able to join them on their trip to the cenotes. You refused to lock eyes with either of them when you rushed back up the stairs, slamming your door behind you.

You spent the day lazily relaxing on the beach alone, sipping on several glasses of agua de horchata with an audible book blasting through your Airpods Max. Your peace was only disturbed once the sun began to set, and a hand was placed onto your bare shoulder. You recognized the large hand, unfortunately too familiar.

“Was it that bad that you had to avoid us all?” Jisung’s deep voice rang out, his body finally coming into view as he sat next to you. It took everything in you to not stare at his upper body, now bare as a result of the adventures the group went on. You shrugged his hand off, shaking your head and looking off towards the water as you took your headphones off, placing them on your bag. “No.” “Then why did you magically get sick this morning? Scared I would harass you in front of your brother too?” You didn’t want to admit that it was true, but harass wasn’t the term you’d use, considering you woke up wet and reminiscing the feeling of him thrusting into you.

You just shrugged, causing Jisung to frown at your lack of rebuttal. It was only fun when you played along.

He let out a hum of disapproval, staring at you like he found himself doing a lot on this trip. Finally finding the courage to look at him, your eyes locked, and it was then that Jisung really noticed how pretty you looked under the dim sky. He hesitantly placed a hand on your slightly sunburnt face, cupping your cheek and looking down at your lips.

You looked down at his lips too, admiring how plump they were – you had never taken your time to appreciate how pretty he was as well, too focused on his annoying insults and teasing. You both leaned in slowly until there was no space left in between you, mouths finally meeting. It was slow at first, hesitant and almost innocent, yet something unleashed inside Jisung as he heard you sigh into the kiss. It reminded him of the noises he pulled out of you the night before, suddenly feeling desperate.

He was the first to assert control, placing his other hand on your face as well and pulling you into him, devouring your lips and pushing against them with his tongue, demanding you to let it meet yours. You complied, sick of acting like you ever wanted control over Jisung. You never actually cared for it, you just liked trying to push him over the edge, which you appeared to succeed in as his breathing quickened. Your tongues met, the kiss turning messy. He could taste the sweet drink off of your spit as he let go of your face, instead moving you until you were laying against the soft sand, his body hovering over yours.

Jisung used both his arms to keep him on top of you as you moved yours down, palming him through the blue swimming shorts he chose to wear. The feeling of your smaller hand making contact with his clothed dick had him swelling up, growing needier and needier until he couldn’t take it.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, looking down at you as his hands roamed to your small bikini bottoms – smaller than the ones yesterday, you knew what you were doing to him. You propped yourself up on your elbows, ignoring the slight sting of the sand grains digging into your arms as you watched him bite his lip before finally pulling the bottoms off of your legs.

He groaned at the sight of your bare core, glistening against the dim lighting of the moon. He was quick to follow, desperately pulling off his own shorts, leaving him completely bare. The only clothing that remained on either of you was your bikini top, yet it didn’t last long before Jisung ripped it off, ignoring your small noise of complaint as the fabric tore off of you. He leaned over you again, struggling to ignore the feeling of your slick cunt meeting his hard-on.

Finally, you were both completely naked, left with no distractions. Jisung kissed you again, closing his eyes and melting into the feeling as your hand snaked down. He let out a hiss as you held onto his sensitive dick, guiding it lower until he felt your hole. Giving a few small thrusts against the slit of your pussy, he finally sank in with no warning, moaning at the way you immediately clenched around him. You were no better, eyes widening as you felt the stretch inside of you. Yes, it might’ve been Jisung’s personal goal to annoy you to no end, yet he had enough mercy to give you time to adjust. It might’ve slipped from your mind, yet Jisung was very focused on your facial expressions when he got rid of your clothes, noticing how shocked you appeared to be from the size of his length. He always knew he was on the bigger end, yet his ego continued to inflate as you struggled to take him fully. With his newfound confidence, and your small encouraging nod, he began to move, finding a rhythm as he thrusted into you, pushing you further into the bed of sand under your bodies.

Your hands found his back, scratching down his built muscles as you fought to get used to him. He moved one of his hands that was holding him up, causing him to shift deeper into you accidentally (yet you weren’t one to complain as the new angle pulled an embarrassingly loud noise from you). His now-free hand slid down your body, stopping at your boobs to tease you a bit, groping the soft flesh before continuing down until he met your clit.

The way Jisung played with the bundle of nerves alleviated the pain in you, now shifting into pleasure as he pushed into you with a renowned force. “Tell me how it feels, baby.” He whispered into your ear, begging to hear your voice. “S-so good, Ji. Need more, please…” Deciding to not tease you for the first time in his life, he complied, thrusting into you harder, the speed of his fingers on your clit increasing until you were a mess under his body, crying out at the combined stimulation.

The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, alongside the reflection of the moon on the water encompassed you both as your passion took over, grinding down to meet his thrusts with fervor. You finally caved when his mouth met your neck, sucking harshly in hopes of marking you up. You reached your climax, riding it out as Jisung continued to thrust into you. “Where do you want me?” “Inside… Please.” He simply nodded, his movements growing sloppier as he sheathed himself into you fully, searching for his own release.

You decided to mirror his actions, lifting your head to kiss his neck, and that was enough to make him finish, his cum gushing inside of you, dripping out lightly as he reluctantly pulled out. As you looked over at Jisung who now laid next to you in the sand, you thought that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all. It wasn’t until he looked at you, basking in your satisfied afterglow that he leaned in, holding your neck with his hand and pulling you into another heated kiss, this time pulling you on top of him, that you realized you had to plan a very long debrief with both Ningning and Mango tomorrow morning.

a/n: is it obvious i'm mexican and this is slightly self indulgent. psa if youre paying more than twenty pesos for a taco its probably not an authentic one :/ this is the longest fic i've ever written to celebrate the very special occasion. park jisung day. ^_^

#nct x reader #nct #nct dream #nct dream x reader #park jisung #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

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moonastro · 3 months ago

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groom persona chart

industria in the houses (389)

what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.

asteroid industria which can be brought up using the code 389. it represents what type of career or profession your future spouse may have and be in.

<<<<lets get into the house placement of the asteroid industria and what it means in likes of the career of your spouse!!!>>>>

˚˖˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚READINGS AVAILABLE (DM ME)˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚˚˖˚

industria in 1st house: this field that your spouse is in can be a representation of their ego and their self, the job that he has can tell a lot about him. he can really identify as his job so can be very focused at work and can almost create a whole personality trait out of his work. always mentioning that he's working and so on. can take pride in his job and may rarely change jobs as can relate too much to the job that may not have the guts to let go of it. his job can be a focal point of his life meaning that his life evolves around his job and not the other way around. its all he ever talks about, can never have the time to do anything else but work.

⊹₊⟡⋆depending on what sign or aspects that are present with industria can tell us more details about your spouses career. so if in scorpio- can include hard labour, conflicts within the job, some unhealthy attachments related to the job, job related to metal, knifes, blood, skin and organs/meat. if in aspect to the sun- job can be related to sweat, training, masculine energy, lots of mean working at that job, a high efficient job, jobs related to, production and behind the scenes. if aspected to mars- job related to metal, hard labour, muscle, sore body, problems to health, slaughter, conflict, high esteem, arguing.

industria in 2nd house: for this placement, the field that your spouse can be a part of are working in the section of basic needs, meaning that this job can be involved with working with food, clothing, water, shelter and money as those are the survival needs that humans need. a job in culinary, cooking, nutrition, such as a dietician, chef, cook. a nurturing and guiding job so this can mean being in the field of taking care of others and making them comfortable.

⊹₊⟡⋆ depending on the aspects and signs can influence the depth of the career. so if mars is aspecting the asteroid- hard labour, sweat, muscle building, arguments, conflict, confidence, tiredness. in Aquarius- online, socials media, influence, IT, communal, crowd speaking, job related to a big crowd, inspiring job.

industria in 3rd house: fields related to this placement can include trips, having opportunities to travel while working, being involved in the local media and being known locally, so being a part of the news, journalist, news reporter, counsellor, therapist, transportation worker such as a taxi driver, uber, bus driver, coach driver etc. may have a lot of communications involved or lots of talking and sharing is involved in the job, like for example sharing information, passing on ideas, carrying on a procedure etc. may work at an education system that works with younger people, lower education assistant, teacher, advisor, principle etc. may develop or attract a lot of contact throughout this job as he may meet loads of people in a day, may create this restlessness energy also that is associated with this job.

⊹₊⟡⋆ depending on what aspects are influenced and the sign its in can tell us more depth into the position of your spouses career. if in gemini-job related to communities, writing, social media, advising, teaching, developing, tech, vehicles, travel. if in capricorn- business, manager, supervisor, head of department, boss, ceo. aspecting the moon- home carer, nurse, doctor, job related to emotional intelligence, home provider, he can have a stable job that gives a steady pay check, nurturing.

industria in 4th house: for this placement, your spouse may be in the filed correlated to security meaning that this can be a job of stable flow of wages and income. this job that your spouse is in can create stability for other people as well so working on building s better home place for people like architect, real estate, flooring company, movers people, furniture related, designer, interior and exterior designer. working with families so a counsellor, nurse, doctor, and anywhere else related to hospitality and taking care of people in general and creating a comfortable and caring atmosphere. this job can come very naturally for your spouse and it can actually be a field that he chose because of his interests and by being very good at what he does, it can come at ease to him.

⊹₊⟡⋆depending on the sign or aspects related to the asteroid can give us more insight on the career. so if its aspecting saturn- job related to labour, stable long hours, dedication and concentration so can be a routine based job, lots of stress. if in cancer- job related to curing people, helping people, cooking, acts of service, creating a comfortable environment, cleaning, house related job.

industria in 5th house: this placement can indicate a career associated with creative and novelty related such as wedding planner, wedding photographer and so forth, this job can be quite risk taking and can require a lot of confidence and effort, perhaps even willpower also. working with children or around children is possible, having a job that is considered childish or easy and simple. this job can include a lot of projects and tasks involved in it. this job of his can also be a hobby of his and thats why it may seem like it is easy to him anyway. this career can be considered as fun and very playful, can be a genuinely fun and exciting job for your spouse. this could also be a passion of many, this job that your spouse may have can be desired by many people and it can be considered as the job of successful people.

⊹₊⟡⋆ if aspecting venus- beauty, music, musician, dancer, working with high brands, working with successful people and collaborating with many, luxury, sweets, fashion, make up, skin. if in pisces- hospital, travelling, flight attendant, pilot, getting a job offer in a foreign land, a boat driver, acting, music, artist. in aries- fast paced, action oriented job, conflict, arguments, jobs involving competition and envy, vehicles, camera.

industria in 6th house: careers that can be associated with this placement are jobs that are health related, such as taking care of the body and examples include fitness trainer, dietician, working in the gym, personal trainer, perhaps even a doctor, nurse and other health related professions. a job that requires lots of empathy and seeing a lot of people being hurt and having no control over it. a job that can fee like you are stuck. also a job related to pets, animals so working with them or working to heal them and caring for them. this job may require your spouse to sacrifice a lot also, either if its family time, assets, and so forth.

⊹₊⟡⋆ if in aspect to neptune- job related to illusions, drugs, alcohol, addiction, an addictive substance, movies, job related to being easily influenced. in scorpio- knives, cutting, metal, surgery, blood, transformational occurrence, occult, secrets, deep. in libra- beaty, food, sweets, influence, changes, discoveries, a job related to co working and working and partnering with other people.

industria in 7th house: the career of your spouse can be related to awakenings and getting humbled almost, this field of work can be a change in their life's perspective and can often change also from time to time, this may also mean that he can change industries also. a career that involves reactions and feedback which means that the customers feedback can mean a lot to this jobs inquiry. perhaps even feedback is what gives the job business as well. jobs that might be on mention are small business, online seller, plumber, nail technician, driving instructor and so forth. any job that requires a good feedback in order to flow customers in. this job can be involved in equality and discoveries, anything to do with cases and technologies also. working in big tech companies or perhaps even having personal assignments assigned to them. such jobs that fit into this category are lawyer, crime scene detective, detective, research company, personal assistant, business owner and so forth.

⊹₊⟡⋆ aspecting the sun- jobs related to managing, fame, organising, being a leader, being a monitor person, security guard, labour job, working around a big crowd, influencing. in scorpio- meat, skin, surgery, mystery, secrets, keeping it low and confidential.

industria in 8th house: a career that your spouse may have is something to do with duty and receiving orders from someone such as working for someone or being involved with the military and army. a job that has a lot of respect and a job that respect is likely. a lot of rules and especially a lot of regulations can be in set at your spouses job that your spouse may have to follow. a high diligence and secretive career. career involved with death and inheritance perhaps its them working at a death insurance company, a person who organises funerals and so forth. any job that may organise or be in charge of inheritance cheques also. he may work somewhere where contracts are involved and most likely can be working for government rules and the system of the government also.

⊹₊⟡⋆ aspecting pluto- strictness, possessiveness, unhealthy habits, jobs to do with addiction and control. aspecting saturn- dedication, jobs related to being a leader and being discipline, a job that takes long hours and takes hard work to complete.

industria in 9th house : so your spouses field of specialty may be include a lot of travel, lots of moving about the place and always experiencing something new. this job may have needed a source of higher education so your spouse may needed to go to university or college in order to get a degree of some sort to have this career. this career may be a high success field meaning that he is very good at what he does although may not realise it. may work with a lot of people from different backgrounds and different atmospheres, may have seen everything or it may feel like it as his job can be quite diverse and challenging. this field in that your spouse can be in can include a mass media attention, or may have access to a mass media meaning that he can be very influential and quite powerful with his position in his career.

⊹₊⟡⋆depending on aspects and the sign that industria is in can really make a difference in what the actual career is. lets say its in taurus- beauty, singing, financial building, banker, investor, chef. say if it is aspecting saturn- long hours, labour, professionalism, seriousness, hard concentration is involved in his job. if in gemini- social media, writing, using new ideas, quick and sharp thinking/mind, quick outcomes, fast approach.

industria in 10th house: so your spouse field of work can be related to high status and high attention. this career may require him to deal with a lot behind the scenes and deal with most stuff by himself, a very personal yet public job. can have a big leadership position, a very guarding yet important role. may have a standard that needs to be kept in this field. maybe a certain appearance may be kept such as clothes, hairstyle, what to wear and not wear, perhaps even control on weight and what can be done to the body and what can not. a very high demanding job, very high stress. lots of control and this can be a very controlling job. also there can be competition in this career, whether its amongst your colleagues or its a high competing job to access.

⊹₊⟡⋆depending on the sign and aspects that are occurring to this asteroid can tell us more about what career they may have. so if uranus is aspecting industria- internet, social media, high following online, high online consumption, high tech, uncontrollable atmosphere, sudden changes, sudden doings, no control. if aspecting the ascendant- appearance, high maintenance, beauty, body, accessories, personality.

industria in 11th house: this career can be associate with working with groups of people, people that they may feel familiar with also. this can be a job where he works in his community where he helps out people that he knows. this job may also be a voluntary job that he signed up for. this can be a very peaceful yet shared experience career, lots of advice may be given in the job and especially a lot of shared creative ideas may be talked upon. the colleagues of your spouse may be very friendly and the whole atmosphere of the job can be very friendly and comforting. job that is involved in beauty and the internet. especially a career that involves high tech and computers.

⊹₊⟡⋆ in gemini- transport, vehicles, bicycles, a job related to teaching, social media influencer, local community, if aspecting jupiter- teacher, mentor, librarian, author, influencer.

industria in 12th house: this career of your spouse can be detail based and can require lots of memorisation and delivering of details. this job can be of sections meaning that it requires completion of one assessment in order to be able to be carried onto the next one, you cant just skip ahead and things like that. this career of your spouse can be involved into efficiency and order and by that this may mean that their job is done efficiently and there may be different ways of doing that job. there can be a value of perfection and cleanliness related to the job. there can be high expectations and pressure that is linked to this job of your spouse. anything to do with health and especially mental health, remedies, consultations and seeking advice. lots of research and techniques can be used in his career.

⊹₊⟡⋆depending on the sign and aspects of the asteroid it can influence more depth into what specific profession he can be a part of. in scorpio- can be related to research, writing, astrology, transformational work, deep messaging, cutting, mining, occult teachings. if in taurus- beauty, singing, voice, dancing, finance, bank, assets, job related to food, cooking, meal preparations, fluctuation themed such as investments and stock markets. associations to mercury- job can be related to text, writing, teaching, travelling, changing positions, speech, social media, vehicles, exchanges. aspects to the sun- job related to fame, spotlight, ego exchange, being themself, high position, knowing their way around things.

Guysss, im glad to be posting this, i really want to get back with posting regularly but have so much to dooo- its never ending. anyway, thanks for reading and have a lovely rest of your day.

#groom persona chart #persona chart #astrology #astrology observations #astrology signs #astrology community #industria #asteroid astrology #asteroid observations #astro #astro community #astro notes #astro observations #astro placements

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delusional-day-dreamer · 8 months ago

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New Year's Kiss - p.b

‣ paige bueckers x reader

‣ wc: 3567

‣‣ synopsis: you were known as one of the calmest, most well-tempered players on the ucon wbb roster. so what happens if you lose your cool for the first time in a game? takes place at the uconn vs notre dame game on dec 31, 2022: based off this post/req from my nonnie 🫶, and lowk inspired by paige's bloody nose at the uconn vs seton hall game!

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys.... i'm so sorry for being so inactive but the writer's block hit me HARD. I have a few more drafts in progress I hope to release this week, thank y'all SO MUCH for the support and patience! Also, for the opponent in this game i refer to her solely as the, "marquette girl", as i don't know their players that well and don't want to use an irl girl!

Up until the second half of the game, everything had been going decent for you. Sure, this game was one of the most aggressive of the season, but you were right in the peak of your season, so it made sense that emotions were running high with the pressure to do well.

But that didn't excuse the fact that the Marquette girl that had been assigned to defend you had been playing dirty the entire night. After the fucking hellish week you had just gotten through, this girl was about to be the straw that broke the camel's. your, back.

After Paige's acl tear in August and the work and energy you had been endlessly pouring into your game from the past two and a half years till now, you had basically solidified your place as one of the main starters on the team, which meant you were receiving a lot more consistent playing time. The thought of being a more prominent player on the team didn't panic you the way it might others, as you you were known for always being a very level-headed, reliable player under pressure, as you had been dubbed by the media as the "Silent Assassin". But tonight was proving to test your limits to the max.

Any time you were on the court for the first two quarters, the Marquette girl had been glued to you, illegally all up in your space, pushing and shoving at you, taunting you over and over again, and even tripping you once when you lunged for the ball. All of which she had done without receiving a single foul, which not only pissed you off, but also your teammates on the court, the players on your bench, and your coach.

And of course, the one time you had defended yourself against her in the second quarter was the only time the ref called a foul on both of you. She had nearly pressed herself up against you the second your hands came in contact with the ball, leaving you with no choice but to pass to your teammate Aaliyah to sink a layup, when she hooked her arm through yours and pulled just as the ball left your hands.

Her unnecessary aggression caused something to snap inside of you, as the second you felt her yank on your arm, you turned around to push her off of you, hard. She stumbled backwards a little bit, not tripping or hitting the ground in any way, but the damage had been done in the, very biased, eyes of the refs.

The two of you rapidly reacted, approaching each other as you were yelling out meaningless threats and a long string of curses. Thankfully, your teammates holding the two of you back firmly, preventing any further physical altercations.

The two of you both received technical fouls for the unnecessary physical contact and unsportsmanlike behaviour. However, the foul you received only irked you more. Why were the only fouls called on her when it involved you pushing back? Could they not see the way she was treating you the entire game?

And of course, Geno wasn't thrilled about one of his starters getting a tech in the first half of the game. While benched, he had chewed you out for losing your temper at her, especially for cursing, which was something refs never let slide. But his reprimands didn't hold the usual level of anger or frustration, as he internally agreed that the Marquette girl had it coming for her, but, he had to remain professional.

Of course basketball was a physical sport, and with aggression came some conflicts with other players, but her behaviour tonight was unprovoked and incredibly aggravating to you. Which only worsened in the third quarter.

After your tech, you had been trying your best to ignore the incredibly annoying actions of the Marquette girl, but you simply couldn't anymore after she had purposely elbowed you in the nose to make her shot.

You immediately stumbled backwards, folding over at the waist as your hands came up in an attempt to alleviate the intense throbbing your nose felt. You could feel the blood begin to dribble down to your lip as you walked over to the bench with Lou escorting you, awaiting the ref's call.

The refs decided to not call a foul on the other girl, claiming that she hadn't reached backwards on purpose, it was simply the angle of her basket and granted UConn two free throws. The call enraged you, and something inside you snapped. You very quickly forgot about the tissue you were firmly holding at your nostrils as you approached him, insisting with him that the call was blind and blatantly biased.

You hadn't noticed the blood resumed to flow down your face while arguing until it hit your mouth, but you paid no mind to the taste of iron that filled your mouth as you persisted angrily speaking to the ref.

"Paige, go get her before she gets another tech," Geno whispered into Paige's ears over by the bench.

She nodded at him, making her way over to you to pull you away from the ref who was now threatening to eject you from the game.

"Okay enough, you need to get checked out by the team medic," Paige wrapped her arm around your waist to pull you away from your heated conversation, despite your struggle against her. She wasn't that much taller than you, but the extra two ish inches she had on you were proving useful right now.

She dragged you over to the bench, ignoring your many protests. She pried the used, bloody tissue out of your fingers to toss to the medic waste bag, grabbing new ones from her hand to help your bloody nose. It was apparent to everyone on your team, even the fans watching, that your stubbornness wouldn't allow you to accept the call that easily and allow the medic to clean you up. So, Paige would just have to do it herself.

Since your first day on the Uconn campus, you and Paige had become extremely close. With the two of you being assigned roommates your freshman year, the COVID year, it would've been impossible to not become best friends, considering the fact that you spent all of your time together.

If not at practice or hanging out with the team, the two of you were trapped inside your dorm, forced to find company within each other for the entire year. And with Paige's injury her sophomore year, you were one of the only people she was able to open up to, other than Azzi, and you had become her comfort during her rehab time, both then and now. Despite no longer being roommates, you two still always hung out at each other's respective dorm, even having frequent sleepovers.

Your incredibly close relationship wasn't left unnoticed by the media either, especially social media platforms like tiktok. When Paige and Azzi denied the relationship allegations at the same time you made it clear that you liked girls, the internet quickly refocused their attention onto you and Paige, and neither of you had the heart to deny any rumors circulating. Considering that after Azzi, you were the least active on your social media when it came to anything other than basketball, it wasn't too hard to ignore the internet's speculation.

All of which to say, Paige had made it incredibly easy for you to catch feelings for her. Until her, you had never known what it was like to be completely head over heels for someone. The way your heart skipped any time the two of you made eye contact, the way your cheeks flushed when she brushed against you, and the chemistry the two of you shared on and off the court was undeniable.

Unbeknownst to you, she felt the exact same way, and for the last two years, everyone but you two could see the feelings you harbored for each other.

If only you could feel the way her heart was beating as she held your face in one hand, using the other to apply pressure to your nose and wipe away at the blood on your face, neck, and jersey as she listened to you rant about the refs and how they were cheating you guys out of fouls the entire game. Although, she wasn't able to focus on the words coming out of your mouth, only the plumpness of your lips as they moved, something you noticed as your verbal attack slowed down so you could take a breath in between your sentences.

"She's literally fucking stuck up my ass and the refs ignore her which is actual bullshit, the amount of times this girl has literally made unnecessary contact or-, Paige are you even listening to me?"

Her lingering gaze on your mouth quickly snapped up to your eyes, a sheepish smile settling onto her now flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah sorry."

She wiped the remaining blood from around your nose before calling over the medic to check your nose. A small bruise had formed near the bridge, but thankfully it wasn't broken. While she was checking your nose, Paige did her best to avoid meeting your curious stares.

Of course the two of you had small moments where you could envision that Paige felt the same for you. But never one that was so blatantly obvious as her staring at your lips, especially so publicly.

Nonetheless, you barely had time to analyze the interaction before the medic was clearing you to return to the game, Paige patting your butt (this) as you jogged by her to sub back into the game, which, until the handshake line, went without any further incidents, despite your team beating them by 13 points (HVL VS TEXAS Y'ALL).

When passing by you, you heard her mutter under her breath, "fucking bitch," in response to your half-hearted, "good game". It was safe to say you didn't take that well, responding to her with, "you wanna come say that to my fucking face? Pussy ass bitch." For both of your sakes, Dorka and one of her teammates were able to keep pushing the two of you down the line and out to the lockers before the post-game conference with Lou, Nika, and Dorka, which Geno insisted you attend to apologize for your behaviour.

***Small Time Skip***

"So Y/N, the multiple incidents that occured tonight with you and (BLANK) from Georgetown, do you have anything to say about them? I mean, you're known for being a very calm and collected player, but tonight we saw a very different side of you," a reporter questioned you. The questions for you from tonight's post-game conference mostly avoided the fight, treading the waters carefully as it was unlike anything you had ever been involved in.

"I'm not gonna try and cover for myself or anything, it was unprofessional and unacceptable for me to lose my temper on the court like that. Like you said, I've always tried to place an emphasis on just basketball when playing and avoid any other personal feelings or problems, but I guess tonight I didn't do as good of a job on that as I could of. This is something that I will keep in mind for all of our upcoming games as that's not the kind of image or reputation I want to set for myself or the team I represent. I would never want this kind of behaviour to be defining moments from our games because my teammates really put their all into every single one of their games, especially tonight's, and I don't want to create any personal animosity with the girls on the Marquette team, as I have a lot of respect for them."

Your diplomatic and cordial answer had appeased majority of the reporters, along with Geno and the team publicist in the back corner of the room. Except for one nosy reporter who seemed unhappy with your tactful response and was practically feining for drama.

“This one is for y/n, but with the events of today, you mentioned that you try to keep all personal feelings off the court. Is that an implication of some external underlying tension or problems between you and number (BLANK), as the two of you got quite physical today?”

What the fuck? Now they really were trying to start something between the two of you that never existed in the first place.

“No not at all. I have no connection with number (BLANK) off the court and don’t even personally know her. As I mentioned before, I have nothing but respect for the girls at Marquette and there are no hard feelings on my end. You know, basketball is a physical contact game and that just means that there a few rough moments here and there, it’s just part of the game.”

If they ask any more stupid questions about you and the Marquette girl you were actually gonna lose your mind. Especially if they somehow tie in the fact that you like girls with the fight.

Which, thankfully, they ended up dropping the fight for the rest of the interview, and you and the others were finally allowed to go out and celebrate New Year's Eve the way they had originally planned to.

The whole team, and Kayla of course, was prepared to celebrate at your favorite local bar, Ted's. All of the girls who were taken were bringing their partners along and those of you who were single were all ready to hunt someone down for a drunken kiss at midnight. Except you.

You were far too down bad for Paige to even fathom kissing someone else at the moment, especially not while going out with her and the rest of the team, who all knew about your ginormous crush on Paige.

Nonetheless, you still did your best to get ready quickly, wearing your baggiest pair of low-rise cargo pants and a very cropped white halter tank top in an attempt to cheer yourself up from the fact you wouldn't have a New Year's kiss this year, again.

But by the time you were throwing back shots at the bar like they were water, you couldn't find it in you to care about how single you were. It was common knowledge that you weren't the best at holding your liquor, as the team often made fun of your ability to get drunk off of two to three shots, which is exactly the position you found yourself in.

Until, of course, "guardian angel Paige" decided she needed to intervene in your drinkfest, walking up to your barstool and effectively cutting you off by having the bartender replace your drink with a regular shirley temple just before midnight so that she, or any of your other friends, wouldn't have to deal with you throwing up at four in the morning.

"You gotta go easy on the shots y/n/n, you're gonna hate yourself in the morning if you keep drowning your liver in alcohol."

"Funny, coming from Storrs's resident party girl, Miss Madison," you teased. There were only about twenty minutes left until bar's tv would depict the ball dropping in New York, and the disparity of your situation had begun to sink in.

Not only would you be suffering through another New Year's with no midnight kiss, but you had no relationships since last year or even a single talking stage, no potential relationship prospects for the future, and worst of all, no Paige.

"Yeah well, at least I can hold my drinks. You, on the other hand, are the most lightweight out of all of us. Besides, what happened to your little New Years tradition, the whole eating the grapes thing to find the love of your life or whatever?"

You went off on a little drunken tangent at this, complaining that it was completely ineffective, but also, the fact that it made you look stupid in front of the entire team when absolutely nothing came out of it.

"I mean it's so dumb. I don't get why my love life is so barren, like actually non-existent, it's not like I'm super unattractive or anything like that. Right? But like, I don't even have a midnight kiss this year, again," you grumbled to Paige, unaware of the way she was staring at your lips for the second time today, mesmerized by their movements.

"You are most definitely not unattractive. You're like one of the most attractive people I know. Besides, it's not like I'm kissing anyone this year," Paige reassured you, and somehow, your drunk brain simply did not process the way she had flusteredly complimented you.

"Yeah but you're Paige Bueckers," you emphasized, "you could kiss anyone in this bar if you wanted. Men and women, single and taken, would literally form a line two blocks down if you even mentioned wanting to kiss someone," you gazed up at Paige from your leaned position against the bartop, watching as the gears turned behind her eyes.

"Anyone in the bar? Like, anyone at all?" She asked you curiously, a small smirk graced her features as she peered down at you.

"Yeah probably, but there's only like two minutes left or something, so you should pick someone soon."

"Oh I already have someone picked out, I just don't know if they would kiss me back."

"Oh?" You felt your stomach drop at her statement, and you couldn't stop the jealousy from coursing through your veins if your life had depended on it. But Paige's unwavering gaze never left your face, and you could feel your cheeks flush at the way she was intently looking at you.

"Quite the staring problem tonight P?"

"Well it's pretty hard to not stare at the prettiest girl in the room," she flirted, scooting closer to you, effectively closing some of the distance between you two.

"I-, what?" You stuttered, taken back by Paige's actions.

"How many hints does I have to drop before you finally start picking up on them? I want to kiss you y/n, I want you."

The ten-second countdown had begun as Paige confessed to you, and you were left gawking at Paige's face, your heart threatening to give out from how fast it was beating.

"FIVE, FOUR,"

You yanked on Paige's belt loop, pulling her flush against your body as your eyes focused in on her lips.

"THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!""

Your right hand reached up to grab Paige's jaw at the end of the countdown, pulling her lips firmly down onto yours. The bar's loud chants barely registered to you as you lost yourself in the intoxication of Paige's lips. Your tongue glided across her lip as your mouths moved in unison, causing her to groan into you. You took it as an invitation to slip your tongue into her mouth, the kiss deepening with unrestrained passion.

Your built-up need for each other was apparent as you made out, sending shivers down your spine at the pressure of her mouth against yours. It felt as if she was the oxygen you needed to breathe, and now that you had her, there was no way you could let her go now.

***The next morning: New Year's Day***

Your eyes fluttered open with a pounding headache, yet, the utterly familiar weight of a certain pairs of hands around your waist provided a sense of comfort you knew only she could provide.

Paige's soft snores rung out throughout the room, and as you gently reached forward to her nightstand to grab your phone off charging, you realize it was still extremely early in the morning, not even eight a.m.

And yet, your phone was blowing up with notifications from all social media platforms, even your text messages had over a hundred notifications.

Confused, you click on the apps to check what all the fuss was about, quickly realizing what had happened.

The entire interaction between you and Paige at the game was recorded by the cameramen and had instantaneously made it's way all over the internet, only fueling the dating rumors about the two of you.

The comments and posts were going feral at the way Paige was the only one who could calm you down, the way she wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you back, her holding your face ever so delicately, her smacking your butt as you ran back onto the court, and of course, her transparent staring at your lips the entire time you were an inch apart from her.

"What are you looking at baby," Paige sleepily mumbled into your neck, tightening her grip around your waist to pull you further into her, slinging her right leg over your waist.

You put your phone down and turned in her hold, wrapping your arms around her body as you peered down at Paige's sleepy face, admiring how beautiful she always looked.

"Your fans are going crazy about how obviously down bad you are for me P," you teased, running your foot up and down her calf as Paige pressed her face into your chest to absorb your body heat.

"Let them, just go back to sleep with me for a little bit longer."

And of course, how could you ever say no when your girlfriend was asking you so sweetly?

a/n: thank you for reading all the way through, and i'm so sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, i just wanted to finally get another fic out 🤗

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