#let's hear what the pm had to say

[ailxvau]

Alola Mr. Trump

ur pay?? lmcrq

i am the Valet turned Manager

got her degree right here.

the political undertones are severe

Every Monday? actually hold up.

so i have to give my essays

one for the each island

i also cook and host a book club 💀

[unluckedtj]

i be been rocking back and forth while reading part 6-8 this is the COOLEST WAY TO BRING BACK NAI. ??!?!?! THE BRANCHES ? THIS WORKS WITH VASH’S ROOTS oh my god it’s so over. it’s gonna plague my head again what oh my go I FEEL LIKE A WINNER

Beware of major Trigun spoilers!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Read from right to left

Trigger warning for violence, blood, gore and body horror! Hooray!

If you want a little background music, try listening to "Everybody knows that you're insane" by QOTSA. I was listening to this when I worked out the chapter in my head and it fits Nai SO well, especially the lyrics! Yeah so, both boys are back from being human to part human/part plant now...I hope you like how this played out, even though it got a lot bloodier than the first parts. Please imagine me continuously knocking Nai on the head with a squeaky toy hammer. This is what I'm doing here in blorbo speach. Also, let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts and any feedback is welcome, as always! <3

[ohcaptains]

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

college! peter parker x fem reader.

18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.

peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.

Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.

As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.

Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.

It was as if he did this purely for himself.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.

Peter liked hearing you.

Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.

His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.

The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.

Just…reflecting.

Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.

“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.

Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.

He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.

“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.

He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.

The two bled into each other.

His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.

You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.

Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 

“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”

Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.

You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.

You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.

“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”

You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?

Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.

Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”

You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.

He was far too pretty to stay quiet.

The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.

Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.

Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.

He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.

“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.

“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

[scorpiosbite]

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.

drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.

glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”

“drew! its maddie.”

“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”

she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”

“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.

drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.

“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”

recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”

madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”

drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.

“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.

when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.

“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”

drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.

“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the back and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.

he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.

“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”

“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.

dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.

“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.

they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.

“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.

“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.

as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.

you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.

drewstarkey started following you. follow back?

first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.

[cherubunie]

bathroom ~ heeseung x reader

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 희승 ] ☆ an argument sparked between you and your lover before a party. in anger, you told him you weren't going to be going anymore. an hour into the party, you show up looking unbelievable, making Heeseung go absolutely insane.

word count; 4k

dom Heeseung x sub reader. established relationship, jealousy, public sex, mentions of alcohol and weed, degrading, gagging, praise, oral, smacking. not proof read.

"what the fuck Heeseung?" you angrily curse at your boyfriend, feeling rage boil through your veins. he rolls his eyes at you, watching your figure pace across the room as he sits down on the couch, listening to your rambles.

"I asked you to help me clean the apartment while I was gone doing errands. you didn't even get up off your game once." you glare at him. this passed week, school was stressing you the fuck out. exam after exam was piling up on your plate on top of an essay you were supposed to be writing. it also didn't help that you had to go grocery shopping sometime during the week and help your best friend plan a get together for her birthday party. everything was stressing you out and all you wanted was a little help from your boyfriend. you had asked him to clean the small apartment the two of you shared before you went out for the day at 11 am. you had arrived back to the house with groceries and birthday gifts at 5 pm, expecting the house to be at least a little picked up.

"I was gone for six hours, Heeseung, and you couldnt even put the dishes away?" you scoff at him, seeing guilt and anger arise in his body language as he shifts on the couch, eyeballing you from across the room.

"y/n, im sorry, okay? I was doing homework and other shit that it completely spaced my mind, I'll clean it tomorrow" he says to you, making your jaw clench as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest with a sigh.

"I wanted it done today so that we wouldn't have to do anything tomorrow, especially since were supposed to be going to Jay's party tonight." you take his silence as a queue to continue, staring into his eyes.

"im piled up to my neck with bullshit, all I wanted was your help and I can't even get that from you." you roll your eyes at him, beginning to walk into the kitchen. his eyes follow you, instantly standing up and following your figure.

"what are you doing? we're leaving soon?" he asks as you begin to put the dishes away, not even turning to face him.

"i'm not going to the stupid fucking party Heeseung, i'm cleaning the apartment since somebody can't" you snap at your boyfriend, turning around to put away a couple pots, completely ignoring his tall figure as he stands in the middle of the kitchen looking at you.

"so you're just gonna stay home and mope around because I didn't clean?" you turn around, glaring daggers at him at his words, your growing anger turning into rage.

"its not even that messy, y/n. I dont understand why you're so mad, lets just go-"

"if you can't understand why i'm upset, then you really need to check yourself, Heeseung. if its 'not that messy' then why didn't you clean it when I asked you to?"

"oh my god can you please stop nagging at me, I already told you its because I was doing homework so I just spaced it" you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you blow up at him.

"you can leave. i'll see you when you get home." is all you say before walking out of the kitchen and into your shared bedroom, leaving the conversation before one of you says something you might regret. Heeseung stares at the bedroom door, but decides to slip his shoes on. he knows that when the two of you get into arguments, that you often need space to cool down and to get distance away from each other so that you dont say anything you really don't mean.

Heeseung slips through the front door, locking it behind him as he heads to jays house, promising himself that he would stay sober.

you hear the front door close and you start to look around the room, your eyes landing on the clock by your bedside table. it read 5:45 pm, the party starts in fifteen minutes and you wonder to yourself how long Heeseung would be gone for.

you sigh out into nothingness, having an internal war with yourself before looking into the closet, your eyes landing on a deep purple dress. its short and made out of lace and satin. suddenly, an idea pops up in your mind and before you can think; you grab the dress and walk into the bathroom.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Heeseung, where is y/n?" sunghoon asks him, looking around the buzzing living room in search of your familiar figure. Heeseung takes another glance at his phone for the fifth time in three minutes, looking to see if you've texted him. sunghoon takes a seat next him, a red cup in his hands.

"she wasn't feeling good so she stayed home" Heeseung answers shortly, guilt starting to eat away at him from the argument that took place earlier.

"shit, that sucks, I hope she feels better" sunghoon says, taking a sip of his drink.

you walk into the house, music vibrating the floor as sweaty bodies stick to each other, the smell of alcohol and weed clouds your senses as you walk further into the house, making you way into the kitchen. you see one of your best girl friends, walking up to her. her eyes catch yours as she squeals, running up to you and attacking you in a hug. she smells like alcohol, and her sluggish actions give away the fact that she's drunk.

"hey beautiful, I didn't think that you were here" she says, slurring her words.

"I saw Heeseung earlier but you weren't with him so I just thought you weren't gonna show up" she rambles and you giggle. the mention of your boyfriends name makes you smile a little despite the argument you had before. you look around the kitchen and notice all the different varieties of alcohol organized on the counter. you walk over and look at all the different kinds.

you grab a red cup, walking back over to the alcohol and grabbing raspberry vodka and pouring it in your cup along. your best friend looks at you, questioning looks seep out of her eyes. she knows you hardly ever drink, so something must have happened. you smile at her reassuringly before throwing your head back, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible as your face scrunches up.

she walks over to you, pouring herself another shot as she giggles.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

your best friend and you are walking around as she checks out a few guys, talking to a few people she knows with you attached to her hip. she's a social butterfly, her wings flapping and her entanas buzzing whenever she's in a social setting such as this one. she's formed a small circle around herself, talking everybody's ear off.

you're standing next to her in silence, feeling someones eyes burning into you. you lift your eyes away from her talking mouth, finding one of heeseungs friends; Jake you think, staring at you. as a friendly gesture; you smile at him.

Jake returns your smile and makes his way up to you, deciding to perch himself next to you as he begins speaking.

"where's you boyfriend" he asks, you bite your lower lip, the feeling of anger and giddiness spreading through your body at the mention of him.

"don't know, don't care." is what you settle on, looking up at Jake as the group that your best friend formed begins to fade away, your back sinking into the wall as your conversation with Jake begins to flow.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"dude, Heeseung, I saw y/n just now" sunghoon says, sitting back on the couch next to him. heeseungs eyes snap onto sunghoon, not believing his words.

"what? that's impossible" Heeseung denies, checking his phone to see if you texted him: nothing. his jaw clicks as his eyes scan the area, not finding your figure anywhere.

"she was talking with Jake somewhere near the kitchen. her face was really red and Jake was standing super close to her" sunghoon warns, unknowingly fueling the fire in the pit of heeseungs stomach. Heeseung stands up off the couch, disappearing into the messy pile of bodies in search of one in particular.

"What?" you say to Jake, squinting your eyes, not quite hearing him over the loudness of the music blaring through the speakers.

"I said let's go outside" Jake leans down to your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek as he speaks. you turn your head to the side with a nod, walking in the direction of the sliding glass doors that lead outside by the pool.

Heeseung catches a glimpse of your hair and figure, but looses you just as quick as you came. his eyes dart around, looking for that familiar scent of the perfume you wear and your hair color. no matter how hard he tries, he just can't find you.

"I mean he is hardheaded sometimes, but I'll stick behind him no matter what" Jake tells you, taking another sip of whatever he has in his cup. you nod your head, finishing your drink as your nose scrunches up. the two of you are talking about Heeseung, and how hardheaded he can be sometimes, but you love him regardless. you wanted to show up to the party and surprise him, but a part of you is also hard headed, so you're not going out of your way to find him, when the timing is right, you'll find each other.

You catch Jake staring at you, his eyes slightly red. you look back, questioning him.

"what?" you ask, as he leans on the wall next to you, eyeballing you up and down. you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

"with all due respect for Heeseung, you are absolutely gorgeous, y/n" you knew Jake well enough that he wouldn't make any moves on you while in a relationship with his best friend, his brother, but that still didn't stop him from speaking the truth.

"Heeseung is one lucky man" speak of the devil, the man himself grips your wrist, flipping you around and clenching his jaw.

"h-hee!" you say in surprise. his grip on your wrist is tight and it has you looking down at your hand.

"I am one lucky man. lets go y/n" your boyfriend says to you, dragging you back in the hot house. your eyes don't leave the back of his head as he pulls you through the sea of bodies. your eyes catch glimpse of the front door, but before you are able to reach it, Heeseung pulls you down a hallway.

"what the hell Heeseung!" you say, but he doesn't respond or turn around. he opens a door and throws you inside. its a white bathroom with a big sink, a huge mirror complimenting the wall above it. Heeseung comes inside the room and locks the door behind him, spinning around to face you. your cheeks heat up at the expression on his face. his lips are tugged between his teeth as his eyes rack down your figure.

Heeseung's mind is going a million miles a minute. the god awful tiny dress you're wearing is driving him up the wall. it barely covers an inch of your body and it infuriates him that Jake saw just about every part of you that belonged to him.

"you shouldn't have came, y/n." he says under his breath as he stalks towards you, his hands coming down to unclip his belt. you shudder at the sound, arousal already pooling in your panties.

"why is that?" you question, already knowing the answer.

"come on sweetheart, you can't be that stupid, hm?" he throws his belt on the floor behind you. jealousy pricks at the tip of his tongue, your eyes looking directly into his.

"you didn't tell me you were showing up, but when I find out you do, you're standing two fucking inches away from my best friend as he basically confesses he wants to fuck you" his hand caresses your cheek as you look up at him through your eyelashes. his fingers move to entangle in your hair, feeling your silky locks as you shake your head.

"hee.. that's not-" his hands pull your hair back, your head arching as he pulls you into his body. he looks down at you, venom laced in his tone as he speaks.

"you think Jake can fuck you as good as be, huh? did he get your pussy wet as much as I do?" his other hand comes up and below your purple dress, moaning as heeseungs fingers come in contact with the flimsy fabric of your panties. he chuckles as he lowers his head so his breath fans your lips, his brushing over yours as he continues

"you're fucking filthy." he forces you down onto your knees, and the way your thighs clamp together tells him everything he needs to know. his hands pull down his pants, the tent in his boxers prominent and aching.

you look up, your mouth watering and your eyes begging. your hands find the waistband of his boxers and you breath out heavily, your head feeling light as Heeseung grips your chin inbetween his fingers.

"suck it." his command is cold and you obey; pulling down his boxers as his cock springs free, half hard and already fucking huge. you gulp, no matter how many times you suck his cock, you're never prepared for how badly your throat stings afterwards. you spit into your palm before taking his tip into your hand, your fingers playing with his slit before pumping him slightly. you feel him begin to grow in your palm as you kitten lick his tip, your hand coming down to massage his balls.

you hear your boyfriend his above you, you take this opportunity and take his head into your mouth, your warm tongue swirling around his tip as you hallow your cheeks, beginning to suck him off. your boyfriend moves his hand to the back of your head, his fingers entangling in your hair as he groans, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

you begin bobbing your head up and down his length faster, saliva spilling down your cheeks as you whine around his size, looking up at him through watery eyes as your feel your knees begin to sting.

he looks down into your glossy eyes, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"taking me so well, wanna take my cum, sweet angel?" you nod your head moaning out a choked yes please as he chuckles at your desperation. the hand on the back of your head pushes you down his shaft, forcing you to deep throat him. his swollen tip hits the back of your throat as he begins to thrust his hips in your face, but not too fast. you breathe in through your nose, trying your best to keep your cheeks sucked in and hallow as he begins to fuck your face. your hands come up to grip his thighs, keeping yourself stable.

his cock twitches in your mouth and you swallow around him, throwing Heeseung off the edge as his hips still in your face, his cock pressing up against the back of your throat as he shoots warm, sticky white ropes of cum down your throat. your eyes close as more tears fall freely down your pink cheeks.

Heeseung looks down at you as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. you swallow all his salty seed, a couple pearly drops fall down your chin and out of the corners of your mouth. your fucked out expression has him grabbing under your arms and forcing you to your feet. you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you onto the counter of the sink, your hands entangle in his hair as he pushes his body into your core.

"h-hee.. please. need- need you please" your begs are just above a whisper, his hands trailing up your thighs to the hem of your underwear. his face comes down to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin as your heat grinds down on his still-hard dick, whimpering at the small amount of friction he's gifting you.

"you want it baby, yeah?" he teases, one of his hands coming to feel your damp panties. he hisses at your arousal, your folds unbelievably wet as he traces a finger up and down your clothed slit. Heeseung grabs your underwear, pulling it back and then releasing it as it smacks against your pussy. you jump in his hold, more whines spilling from your lips as he chuckles into your skin.

his fingers pull your panties to the side, his thumb pressing up against your clit as you moan at the feeling, finally getting the friction you so desperately craved. his fingers massage through your wet folds, collecting your slick before one of his long fingers prods at your fluttering hole, begging for your boyfriend to touch you.

"please" you plea, your face coming to bury itself in heeseungs next, your breath fanning your skin. his finger slides in with ease, stretching you slightly as your warm walls squeeze his digit. you shudder at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth as your fingers dig into your lovers back. Heeseung kisses your temple before beginning to pump you, his long finger curling in and out of your sopping cunt in a squelching noise.

one of your hands moves to grip is hair as the other stays wrapped around his back. heeseungs free hand moves from your thigh, trailing upwards to the small of your back, caressing and rubbing you through your thin dress, holding you as close to his body as possible. your moans pick up volume as he adds a second finger, curling upwards and slightly grazing your sweet spot. your legs jolt and you inhale sharply. your mind feels fuzzy as Heeseung splits you apart on his fingers, his thumb rubbing slow, concentrated circles on your clit to help ease you up.

"h-hee.. hmm a-ah" you moan his name, your body beginning to shake. he brings his head down to your ear, his breath fanning you as he speaks

"tell me all about it beautiful" you whine in response, your fingers tugging at his locks harshly now, your orgasm approaching quickly. your hold around him tightens as your legs begin to shake. Heeseung looks at himself through the mirror, his eyes finding the back of your figure and he can't help but admire you, even without seeing your face. you turn your head, Heeseung mimicking your actions as you slam into each other, your lips meeting his in a sloppy, wet kiss.

heeseungs fingers curl inside you again, massaging your g-spot and you buck your hips forward, moans loud and needy as your orgasm snaps, cumming all over heeseungs fingers. you grind your hips into his hand, riding out your high. heeseungs mouth moves against yours hungrily, biting your bottom lip before he parts. you go to whine in protest but stop yourself when he quickly forces your panties down and below your ankles.

before you can say anything, he balls up your underwear and shoves them in your mouth. he hikes your dress up and over your hips, your dripping pussy on full desplay as he takes his cock in his hand and bullies his way inside your walls. your eyes widen as he does so, a choked moan attempting to escape your mouth. he can't wait anymore, remembering the way Jake was looking at you in your tiny little dress, your breasts on full display. his anger begins to rise again, his hips beginning to move against yours at a quick pace

"gonna fuck this pussy until you know who you belong to, understood?" he slaps your puffy cunt, earning a muffled squeal from you as your arms wrap around him again, holding his body close to yours. you curl into your boyfriend, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it kisses your g-spot repeatedly, tiny babbles and whines leaving your lips.

his fingers work at your clit as his hips snap against yours, your legs shaking in his hold as goosebumps trail from your thigh, up to your hip where Heeseung ghosts his fingertips, holding you in place.

your muffled cries eg him on further, an idea striking in his mind. he pulls out of you, dragging you off the sink and spinning you around, forcing you to bend over the counter.

"spread you legs for me, pretty" you happily listen, your soiled panties still gagging you. he pushes himself into your wet, swollen pussy, your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he begins to thrust into you from behind, hitting all your right places at a much deeper angle. your ass jiggles each time his hips meet your behind, your back arched in a perfect slope.

Heeseung slaps your ass, roughly, causing a squeal to erupt from the back of your throat, your walls clenching his dick as if you're trying to milk him.

"oh fuck-" your boyfriend says in a raspy tone. the way your ass bounces with each of his thrusts mixed with the way your muffled whimpers and moans sound, it starts driving Heeseung up the wall as he smacks the plush of your ass again. your head dips down, falling onto your forearms that rest on the counter.

Heeseung grips your hair, forcing your body up into an arch as your eyes fly open, looking at the scene unfolding in the mirror. Heeseung moves his face to your neck, sucking sweet purple marks into your skin that match the color of your dress.

"look at you baby, taking my cock so well, such a good girl hmm?" he slaps your ass again, your eyes closing slightly as you hiss. your look at yourself through half lidded, fucked out eyes. your legs are apart and your dress his hiked up, heeseungs dick splitting you open as he fucks you from behind, deep, purple hickeys litter your soft skin and one of your breasts fell out of your dress.

"pussy's mine... all. fucking. mine." he thrusts inbetween each word, your juices gushing out of your spazzaming hole and down your thighs onto the counter.

"he-hee please !" your panties fall out of your mouth, your loud moans echoing off the chambers of the bathroom and fill heeseungs ears.

"such a messy girl.. you think you deserve to be stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart? wanna take all of it like the fucking slut you are?" his hand detangles from your hair to grip your throat, giving it a light squeeze as a threat... or a promise? either one has your knees buckling below you.

"y-yes please, wan' u're cum please" you chant, the pit of your abdomen feeling unbelievably tight as you feel your orgasm about to wash over you.

"cum all over me sweetheart, make a fucking mess all over me, I've got you" he coaxes you to your orgasm, the rope in your stomach snapping as you arch your back into him, a loud squeal drips of your tongue as you cum all over him. heeseungs thrusts halt, his hips stilling against your ass as he buries his face in your neck, shooting white ropes of cum deep inside you.

it takes a minute for the both of you to calm down, your boyfriend pulling his cock out of you. your guys's mixed cum drips down your leg, running down your thighs. Heeseung laughs before grabbing some toilet paper, turning you around and hoisting you onto the counter to clean you off.

you wrap your arms around his frame, hugging him as you kiss every inch of his face

"I love you, hee" you say as he pulls away from you, throwing the cum-stained toilet paper in the trash. he looks at you, placing his veiny hands on your thighs, rubbing soft shapes into your skin.

"I love you, beautiful" he responds, cupping your face in his palm before leaning in to place a warm kiss on your lips. he helps you hop off the counter, unlocking the door.

"hey wait, my panties!" you laugh at him as he stuffs them in his pocket, smirking down at you. he opens the door and gestures for you to exit first. you huff at him and walk out, praying nobody sees anything. you gasp as Heeseung lands a smack to your ass as you walk in front of him out of the room.

"hee!" you smile as you look behind you and at your boyfriend.

"I love youuu"

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 2:

Yandere Bully Gives You Rules to Follow

Part 1

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Blake, the school bully who often elicited terrified looks and sent people scurrying to safety, had for some reason claimed you as his.

"You're mine."

That phrase that Blake had growled to you kept replaying in your addled brain over and over.

You didn't exactly know what that meant. However, given your status as the school's resident nerd, you figured that you were meant to be his sole victim for relentless teasing and harassment.

Yet, there you were: Your hand trapped in a deathgrip from none other than Blake.

The rest of the student body cast disbelieving glances towards the two of you, many of them dropping their jaws in shock at the sight of the terrifying bully and the school nerd walking hand-in-hand.

"The fuck are you lookin' at?" Blake spat at some of them, momentarily letting go of your hand as he did so-- only to wrap a possessive, heavy arm around your shoulders.

The terrified glances from the fearful students flickered from Blake to you before diverting altogether.

Your face burned bright hot and the tiny voice in the back of your head told you to run as fast as you could. You totally would've too, had you not been trapped in the hold of the school bully.

You were too busy panicking on the inside to notice when Blake stopped at your locker, did your combo to unlock it, snatched your Pre-Cal textbook out of it (your first class), and led you towards class.

"Wait," you gasped when you finally put two and two together, "how did you know my--?"

"Give me your phone," Blake grunted as soon as the two of you were at your first period class. He stopped right near the door where the rest of the class could easily see you (and quite a few of the nosey ones were gawking), holding out his free hand expectantly.

Oh! This must've been it.

All Blake had really wanted was your phone.

You mentally berated him for being so weird and cryptic if all he'd wanted was a free phone; but you figured that going without a phone for a bit was leagues better than dealing with the school bully twenty-four/seven; hence, you practically thrusted it at the guy.

Blake ignored your eagerness, still keeping one arm secured around you, trapping you tightly against him. You could smell his body spray permeating your senses and the heat from his larger body was overbearing. In fact, thanks to the unwanted proximity, you could clearly see how Blake towered over you and just how muscled he was-- he could easily manhandle you all day if he wanted (and he seemed to REALLY want to lately).

Blake somehow knew your passcode (1-2-3-4) and began to mess around with your phone using his free hand. Seconds later, he handed it back to you.

Before you could ask what was up, Blake quickly leaned down and--

Out of instinct, you jerked back.

Blake frowned and pursed his lips into a thin line. "That's two," he huffed. "I'll be here when class gets out."

"Wh-why?" you couldn't help but ask.

Blake rolled his eyes at you. "So I can walk you to your next class," he grunted, again making it sound like it was obvious. "I'll see you soon, my angel."

With that, Blake gave you a gentle push towards the classroom as he disappeared among the crowd in the hallway.

Throughout class, you struggled to concentrate on the lecture. The whole time, your thoughts kept drifting back to the scary bully who wouldn't leave you alone. Plus, you were hyperaware of the all of the stares from the other students, hearing murmurings involving Blake and you.

Midway through class, your phone vibrated and you glanced at the notifications to see a rather long text from Blake:

My Angel, here's a set of rules that I expect you to follow:

You belong to me and only me

No talking to any other boys

I will drive you to and from school

I will escort you between classes

You will call me every night no later than 9 PM so I can say "Goodnight"

Every weekend you will stay over at my place

I get to hold you whenever I want

You better tell me if someone bothers you or tries to take you away from me so I can have a "chat" with them

I get at least one kiss per day

Tonight I want you to start calling me "Daddy"

Follow these rules and I promise that I will take good care of you.

But disobey these rules and I will punish you. And you're already at two out of three.

See you soon.

Love you.

The blood drained from your face as you read and re-read the text from Blake.

This had to be some sort of sick joke. The school bully had legit just said that he loved you over text. He was lying... right?

Images of his past victims flashing into your mind: black eyes, people getting the crap beat out of them, relentless tormenting, threats of violence and bodily harm-- just hearing the name "Blake" was enough to send shivers down your spine.

Yet, when you really thought about it, Blake never had bullied YOU specifically...

Your phone buzzed again with another notification, this one with an icon that you didn't recognize:

YAN-Tracker: The location tracking app that let's you keep an eye on those most precious to you...

A tracking app?!

That's what Blake had been doing on your phone, downloading some sort of tracking app?

Instinctively, you went to uninstall it, but as soon as you tried, a notification box popped up, requesting a passcode.

You tried to enter in yours, only to be dismayed that it wasn't the correct one.

Your heart raced in your chest as you mulled over all that had happened recently-- all of the signs pointing to a horrifying realization:

Blake, the school bully, wanted you. And he wanted you badly.

Without another word, you quietly got out of your desk (leaving your phone behind), and tip-toed out of class, praying that Blake wouldn't see you making your escape...

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @eoryn-shit @paninibit @evan-trand @psychicglitterdetective @springkuinn @vinivave

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick it Spit It

Billie Eilish x female reader

A/n: I don't think I need to say anything here lovelies, enjoy !!

Summary: Billie is excited to show you this new song shes featured in, reciting her lyrics to you. Until she's recreating them on you.

Warnings: smut, mdni ! Spit ?? Eating out, strap usage, orgasm denial, squirting !! Think that's it <3

Masterlist ... extra ;)

"Babyyy."

You hear your girlfriend say, coming into the bedroom you both shared. She had her phone in hand, obviously about to show you something.

"Everything alright?" You ask setting your book down. It was currently 7 pm, she had been in the small studio downstairs. Working away on something. "More than alright. I want to show you what I have so far on this remix I'm doing." You smile at her as she sits beside you on the bed, excited to hear this. You always loved listening to the songs she'd make or was in. And you were so incredibly proud that this was going to be with another big star.

'Don’t have to guess the color of your underwear

Already know what you’ve got goin’ on down there'

She chants and you smile just enjoying listening to the lyrics.

'It’s that lacy black pair with the little bows'

That reminds you of a pair you own.

Wait...

'The ones I picked out for you in Tokyo'

Now she has your full attention. Sure you were listening to the lyrics beforehand, but now you're really listening. Her eyes were still on her phone, reading off the lyrics. Until her eyes met yours.

'I saw them when you sat down, they were peekin’ out'

Did she really write this about you? You had a pair of underwear exactly like the one she's talking about, you wore them alot actually. They were your favorite. Especially when she mentioned Tokyo. That was incredibly specific as that's where the pair was from. She had bought them for you as a gift when you traveled there for your birthday last year. Both yours and Billies eyes lock onto one another's. But she didn't stop there, keeping that eye contact alive.

'I'm gonna tell you right now, they're all I'm thinkin' about'

"True." She then whispers. Your brows furrow, feeling nervous at the insanity of this moment. Her eyes bore into your own, making you shift a little bit. Your eyes avert her lustful ones.

'I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it. Pull it to the side and get all up in it'

You hadn't even realized she sat her phone down on her bedside table, and was inching closer to your body. "You wanna guess who that song is about." She speaks softly into your ear. You gulp, her voice delicate. Holding such filth at the same time. You don't answer for a second, trying to gain your composure. "Me....?" You question. She only smirks and let's out a small hum. Her body moves to hover over your own, instantly leaning down to kiss you. "I saw a photo of you on my phone from a year ago today. And that's what inspired me." She mumbles against the skin of your neck, as her kisses move all over the place. "Your crossed legs, in that skirt." You swallow thickly. Remembering that photo. You had your arms up in the air, sitting on a random beautiful fountain.

"That's why I mentioned how the straps were peaking out.. those baby pink bows." She bites down on your neck, making a gasp escape your lips. Your eyes shut in instinct as she continues on. "'Kiss it, bite it, can I fit it?'" The only thing you manage to get out was. "Fuck me."

She glady took that offer. Making her way down your body, getting to her destination. She pulls the pair to the side. "Wish it was the black ones." She trails off, slowly revealing your wet, sticky folds to her. Her eyes becoming drowsy, full of desire for you. She bit her lips slightly, grabbing the underwear by the top. And pulling them down, off your body, discarding them somewhere. Her favorite thing, on display for her. She had to admire for a little bit. But that just made you grow impatient. "Billie-" "shhh." She says, as her finger comes close to your puffy heat. She then quickly licks a small stripe up the middle, before she pulls back contemplating.

She spits directly onto your cunt, letting it slide down slightly. The big bit of saliva staying there for a second, before her face is directly infront of it. Her tongue sticks out and straight into your weeping, aching hole. Pushing the spit inside you. She pulls back to look at the mixture of wetness. And she did both. She managed to get you that wet. It was her spit now deep inside you. God she was proud at the thought. However she wasn't even done with penetrating your pussy. Her face is back in its original spot. Her lips make contact with your own, sending your head back into the pillows. Your hands eventually move to her silky hair, gripping as she speeds up her pace, her tongue entering you also.

It all felt amazing, when she does something unexpected. Her teeth sink into the lip of your pussy, biting and sucking all at once. It felt incredible. Why hadn't she done that sooner. "Bil.." You breathe, moaning on and off. "Feels so, good." You blab, still having your eyes shut. Feeling her lips move into her famous smirk, knowing that boosted her ego entirely. Your high was approaching and fast.

"Nooo." You then huff. Feeling her tongue move from you. Looking down at your fucked out body. Her smirk is ofcourse still visible at your little frustrated pout. "You're so annoying." You breathe, sinking into the sheets again.

"You won't be saying that in a second." Your head shot up again to look at her, but as soon as you do that a loud moan is being ripped out of you. How the hell did this woman put her strap on so quickly. She really wasn't kidding when she said 'in a second.' Impressive. A little hot in a way. Your mind turns into mush though, almost her whole length inside of you. "Had to get you worked open babe, yet you're still so tight." Another moan was to be heard, letting your eyes flutter close again, back instantly arching. Only thing visible in your brain are the lyrics to that song, and how she's recreating them all. "Guess I can fit it huh?" She then says, coming close to your face. "Speak." She orders you like a dog, when you don't respond.

"Y-yes.. feel so full." Her smirk returns to her face, picking up the speed. "Good. Just how it should." You let out another gasp again, feeling her thumb playing with your clit. This makes her chuckle, maliciously. She continues to fuck you relentlessly, beginning to let her hands roam over your skin, she pushes the baggy t-shirt you were wearing up, exposing your tits. They move in time with her thrusts. Her mind overflows with every disgusting but amazing fantasy. Your breath hitches as you feel cool metal on your breasts, looking to see her hands kneading them. How well they fit in her hands as she squished.

As her fingers move while doing so, you feel that same cold metal on your nipple making a shakey, content sigh leave you. It eventually turning into a moan as she squeezes again. She comes down to your face, your eyes were closed. "Look at me." She speaks, grabbing your jaw. You immediately open your eyes looking at her dark ones, which was always such a shock as they are so bright. Her face inches down towards your ear, she gives it a soft kiss before she's whispering. "Wanna make you squirt." Your eyes widen tremendously. If you weren't flustered before you really are now.

As you go to respond it was cut short, her thumb resumed on your clit, her thrusts are deeper, her ring covered fingers gripping your jaw. Her lips on your neck only adding to that, as she used the fuck out of you. You feel it coming, that tight knot. But you didn't have to say a word. She knew. She could feel it. It getting slightly harder for her at the way you're tightening, but that was a challenge she wanted to conquer. Obviously succeeding, she hits that gummy spot inside you, sending your mouth to fly open. "B-bil-" Yet another gasp was being pulled from you, it being loud in her ear as she continues to fuck the shit out of you.

Her pace never falters. Her thumb even speeding up as she sucks and bites your neck. You wanted to tell her you were close, as if she didn't already know. Your hands make their way to her arms, gripping as it's coming faster. "Fuck!" You screech out, you couldn't hold it any longer releasing within an instant, feeling her smirk into your neck. "And boom." She says into your ear, her voice husky. You hadn't even noticed it, but she actually did make you squirt. Your fucked out expression gives billie all she needs to know.

"Guess I'm just, that. good."

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[cyber333angel]

HATE SEX WITH RAFE !

you and rafe had been arguing for about three days now, huffing and puffing whenever you saw each other and slamming doors around the house. however today, you really wanted to piss him off and get back at him. it was around 8 pm where you were putting the finishing touches to your pretty little outfit, layering your jewelry and picking out what delicious scent you would smell like tonight.

you grabbed your purse and started to head down the stairs where rafe sat on the couch occupying himself with his phone. as he heard the click clacks of your heals he looked up from the screen, observing the way your tits bounced with every step and how the volume of your hair sprung up and down, overall how absolutely gorgeous you looked. a loud voice interrupts you as you reach the last step, “where the fuck are you going dressed like that?” unfazed by the hostility, you answer. “a party.” you give him a short response, purposely to tick him off and you see rafe spring up from his seat, walking towards you. “a party with who?” he says while nodding his head and biting his thumb. you look up at him annoyed. “with sarah and kie, why do you care anyway?” you break eye contact with him and you start walking to the entryway, almost at the door handle. mumbling under your breath quietly, “so annoying like..get out of the fucking way.“

you knew better than to talk to your boyfriend like that, realizing it when suddenly your throat and hand that was reaching for the door, are held in a tight grip from rafe. “don’t ever fix your mouth to say some shit like that to me again, you hear me?” startled by his sternness you decide to push him more, just to see how far he would go. “fuck you rafe, your not the boss of me.” rafe twists his head at you, since it seems like your not knowing who your talking to. “yeah, im not the boss of you?”

..your now on the bed, your coily hair held in rafes hand in a tight grip as he abuses your cunt. he bunched up the dress halfway up your spine, panties lost at the end of your ankle as your knees pressed into the bed. your ass ricocheted off his pelvis from the brutal pace, and your eyes went half lidded from the pain and pleasure. “got some fuckin nerve thinking you could talk to me like that.” he had been fucking you for what seemed like hours at this point, his cock buried in your pussy leaking out white liquid. “mmm daddy m’so-sorryy! won’t do it again i swear!” you beg, your soaked hole becoming sensitive at every harsh thrust he makes you take.

rafe ignores your pleads, letting it really sink in and make you think of the way you acted earlier. “nah but you weren’t sorry before when you wanted to go act like a slut at some fucking party.” he bends down close to your ear, pulling your hair to level your face with his. “huh sweetheart? what happened to all that fuckin talk? i thought i wasn’t the boss of you?” you could only answer with sobs and cry’s from how rough he was being. your wet skin smacking together, sweaty from how good he was making you feel. his cock dragging in and out of your cunt making your head spin, “hngh..slo-slow down rafey!” he grips the fat of your ass and relaxes his pace, fucking you slowly as he runs his hands through his hair straightening his back. he ponders, opening his mouth to ask you a question. “where’d you learn to speak to me like that hm? never spoke t’me like that before so what happened, you needed some dick?” he waits for your response, still rocking his hips back and forth slowly.

you shake your head, “d-didn’t want to argue with you anymore daddy.. im sorry nd ill be good now promise!” whining at him, rafe coos at you, knowing you only did this to end the useless bickering between the two of you. “t’aw s’okay baby i know your sorry, i know your a good girl. daddy doesn’t like to argue with you either alright?” you nod frantically, happy that your little squabble with your boyfriend was over. “go on and cum on this dick sweetheart, just like that..” he admires you from above, watching the way you squirm as you cream on his cock. rafe put in a last few thrusts and pulls out, cumming on your back where your dress was bunched up at the top. it was a shame though, you really did look good in that dress.

[shimonerin]

"Tell Me Why I Married You Again?"

Content: Half of the school ships the teacher and the coach, not knowing they're married

Tags: use of "ma'am/mrs." to the reader, fluff, bickering, old married couple vibes

Word Count: 848

The sound of fists smacking hard against the ball and the high-pitched squeak of the boys’ sneakers can be heard even before you could enter the gym. It’s 3 pm and, as usual, there was an ongoing session of volleyball training. Interhigh Preliminaries are near but that doesn’t mean you’re going to let this slide.

Pushing open the sliding doors, the warm air of, well, sweat filled the enclosure. One of the reasons you don’t like going here. 

“Hinata, nice spike! Keep it up!” Ukai’s loud, booming voice echoed throughout the gym. As expected, he didn’t really notice your presence, despite standing near the doorway. God, he is such an idiot sometimes.

“Hey, Keishin.” Your voice, low yet firm, seemed to catch the attention of everyone. Not exactly how you wanted this to happen.

Ukai seemed startled at your presence, his eyes widening and his mouth agape “Hey! Uh, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

With your hands on your hips, he knew exactly why you’re here. He just didn’t want to make a fool of himself. 

You could already see the shit-eating grins on some of the boys’ faces, specifically Tanaka and Noya’s. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward “Where are the jerseys? The principal has been grilling my ass over this for two days now.” You told him, a gaze that only an annoyed wife would give plastered on your face.

Last weekend, there was an emergency. Apparently, during one of their out-of-school jogs around the area, Hinata and Kageyama, expectedly, fell into one of the mud pits. This leads to Ukai having to take two of the spare school uniforms in your classroom, which you let him. What you didn’t know was the fact the principal was keeping tabs over these.

He crossed his arms over your chest, looking off to the side as he tried to explain, tumbling over some of the words “W-Well, you know I didn’t really had time to…wash it yet…with the store and the training and all…” His words sheepishly drawled across his lips.

You raised an eyebrow “Why did I know you would do that?”

“Oh, come on! I-I’ll wash it tomorrow, I promise! I’d even give it to the principal himself if you’re too busy!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head as he looks at you with a pleading look.

By this point, the boys are already snickering behind their back. Probably finding more ways to tease the both of you.

“Do you really think I’m stupid, Keishin?” You scoffed “I’m letting you do whatever so you better keep your word, you hear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Noya suddenly perked up from his place “Why don’t we just wash it for you, Coach? You should focus on taking Mrs. (Y/N) out for dinner tonight. She seems pretty pissed.”

Daichi smacked the back of his head as soon as his words left his mouth. But the others couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s a bit of an inside joke to the students to ship the both of you together. 

Ukai clicked his tongue at their antics “Hey, Noya, if you don’t zip your-”

“We were actually going to check out that new ramen place by the corner.” You quickly cut him off, leading to a lot of cheers and jeering among the gym.

Lots of “See? I told you they were dating!”, “Wait til everybody hears about this!”, and “I knew that the first time I saw Coach bring Mrs. (Y/N) a cup of coffee!”

Keishin had the brightest red on his cheeks, pinching the bridge of his nose. With all the (silly) bickering you do with your husband, it doesn’t hurt to tease him from time to time.

You turned back to the boys and furrowed your eyebrows “What do you mean dating? Didn’t you already know?”

A chorus of “Huh?” erupted from the team

You grabbed Keishin’s hand and held out the glinting wedding ring on his finger before putting up your hand in comparison “We’re married. For 3 years now. Ever wonder why we bicker so much?”

Needless to say word got out very, very quickly. And a string of new jokes by the Karasuno Volleyball Team were continuously thrown at Ukai every day. 

“You made my life miserable.” He groaned, resting his head on your shoulder while you were on the couch, grading some of your students’ assignments “You should pay for that.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“I don’t!”

You smirked to yourself, letting out a small chuckle. You ran your free hand over his hair, giving it a gentle massage “Alright, I’ll take it back. We’re divorced now, then?”

“No, God!” He’d shout, his head shooting up from your words as his eyebrows scrunched up together “You’re an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a low hum of amusement, turning to him with hearts in your eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder why I even let you put a ring on me.”

Ukai couldn’t understand how he can love someone more than he already does. He guesses you’re a living example of that.

[ningvory]

pervert sister’s bff gp!karina + noncon n darcyphilia? say that you were minejong’s younger sister (03 liner) and she went out to get some snacks for movie y’all were watching and rina took that perfect opportunity to pounce on you and force you to suck her cock! she couldn’t but bust twice bc your virgin mouth felt so good n tight around her big cock

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1,042 words • 2k event

a/n: THIS IS SO!?!? wanted to combine these two cuz it’s like the same concept so enjoy!

CW: noncon, sister’s bff karina, g!p, pervert karina, forced oral (k.receiving), darcyphilia, crybaby reader, not proofread

movie night with your older sister meant her best friend, jimin would be there too. not that you didn’t like jimin, it was just that every time she came around you would have to lock yourself up in your room because you were “too young” in minjeong’s eyes. you never understood her logic because you were only a year younger than her.

but today was only different because it was a movie marathon that minjeong has been dying to do and she surprisingly let you sit with her and jimin to watch.

jimin on the other hand, never minded when you had to tag along, in reality she fuckin’ loved it! unknowingly to you she the hots for you. ever since your clueless sister, minjeong started bringing her around you, you two really did become close.

by now it was 5:47 pm and the golden rays of the sunset began peaking out the windows and onto the couch that you and jimin were comfortably on.

“guys! there’s no snacks or food, i’ll run to the store! need anything?” minjeong yelled from the kitchen. you and jimin were in the living room watching the little mermaid, the movie you’ve been wanting to watch since it came out last year.

“nah, i’m good! just bring back something good!” jimin responded, you’ve been craving some chocolate pocky so your ears chimed up immediately, “can you get me chocolate pocky please!” you yelled hearing her grab her keys and gave a short response to you before closing the door and locking it.

perfect, the older girl thought, biting her cheek to hide her excitement.

around eight minutes go by and you were focused on the film in front of you, you then felt jimin snake her arm around you waist, digging her sharp acrylic’s into your warm flesh, forcing you to hiss and flinch unexpectedly. your attention went onto her, hands on top of hers trying to pry her away while silently pleading for her to stop

“unnie..stop please!” you plead to her, eyes beginning to flood with tears, trying to pry her hands off of you.

the pain becomes unbearable to the point you need to get up and try to move away from her but as soon as you made an attempt to get up, her hand immediately leaves your waist and wraps tightly around your neck, pushing you back into the couch.

the impact made you yelp before staring up at jimin, who was staring you down like you did something wrong, “u-unnie? have i done something wrong? you’re starting to scare me!” you babble, tears rolling down your face like a waterfall. jimin coo’s, leaning down to kiss the tears away, “hm? what haven’t you done baby? you just love doing this to me, hm? got me hard and pent up from you just looking so fuckin’ pretty every time i’m near..get on your knees, baby.” jimin whispers in your ear, letting go of your neck. you frantically rush to the floor in front of her, confused on why she has you on the floor but too scared to ask.

she removes her shorts and her boxers, revealing her thick, rock hard cock to you. your eyes are immediately drawn to it and up at her, hoping she won’t actually do what you think she’s gonna do.

she grips your hair, pressing her precum-covered cock against your closed lips. you kept you eyes and lips closed, praying that jimin would get the memo that you didn’t want this and she’ll leave you alone, but you knew the answer deep down.

when she figures she’s unsuccessful with this attempt, she uses force, forcefully pulling on your hair, making you yelp, mouth opening and hand going to your hair to try and ease the pain. she wasted to time, pushing her thick cock all the way into your mouth, earning a choke from you, eyes looking up at hers.

“s-shit! don’t looking at me like that, baby, ‘jus gonna ruin your perfect face and body even more,” jimin grunted, pushing your head down to the point where where your nose is touching her pelvis.

a smile you’ve never seen from her appears on her face when she see’s how wide your mouth is from the stretch of her cock. fuck, she would have to train your little virgin throat to take her and only her cock.

she slowly pulls out of your mouth, only to thrust right back in, not letting you catch a break, gagging and choking on her dick repeatedly when she begins to thrust in and out of your mouth repeatedly. “so cute, gagging on my dick, don’ worry..gonna train your throat to take my dick..” jimin moans, hips begging to buck into your mouth, forcing more tears and muffled coughs outta you.

“ahh~ shit—gonna cum! and you better fuckin’ swallow it all.” she grunts, the grip on your scalp even tighter.

she lets out a long gasp before three hot spurts of cum spill into your aching throat. she pulls away, yanking your hair back to pull your face up, watching you swallow all of her seed before you open your mouth, showing her that you swallowed it all. she smiled, her normal demeanor coming back, as she leans down to kiss your lips and dress herself back up.

she brings you back to the couch, sitting you down with her and bringing the cover over the both of your legs. as jimin began to cover all of her traces of what went down, you began to cry silently until your throat burned and begged for you to let it out until you did.

“shh~ it’s okay,” jimin coo’d pulling you closer, laying you on her chest and patting your back, letting you soak her shirt with tears.

the noise of the door opening caught jimin’s attention, watching how minjeong came in with an confused expression, silently urging jimin to tell her what happened, “sad scene in the movie,” jimin sympathetically says.

minjeong looked up at the show and it was currently on the big fight with ursula in the ocean. she nodded her head walking back to the kitchen to put everything down, letting the older girl comfort you.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

[huhmiya]

INNOCENT GIRL | matt sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt x f!reader

summary: you have always been an innocent girl to everyone, but matt has noticed your attitude and actions, which led him to punishing you.

warning: smut, dom!matt, swearing, p in v, pet names (slut, baby, love, darling, bad girl, bitch), unprotected sex, hair pulling, use of y/n, crying, nipple playing, dirty talking, blow job, rough sex, bratty y/n.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. agh, a bit rushed and late to say but I’m so happy that the sturniolo triplets are at 7M

WORDS: 2.6k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | matt - blue

-

Matt adored you deeply and always made sure you felt that. He appreciated your gentle nature and how much of a kind hearted person you were.

He was always tender with you, knowing you were sensitive to touch, making sure to handle you with care.

Though there were times when he let his anger get the best of him and was harsh with you, he always regretted it and made amends by doing whatever you wished since he made you feel horrible about yourself.

Recently, he noticed you becoming more distant and acting rudely towards others. He reached a breaking point and decided to give you space.

Leaving you alone in his room, he went to record a YouTube video with his brothers in the kitchen, hoping that some time by yourself would help you return to your usual self.

While you scrolled through your phone, you could faintly hear Matt and his brothers laughing, sparking your curiosity. However, you chose to block out the noise by putting on headphones, not wanting to engage with anyone at that moment for reasons unknown.

You were listening to your shuffle mix but it seemed like it passed quickly due to Matt entered the room which meant he finished recording. You didn't even bother to say hi, but he knew you noticed him.

He huffed and left you to it, grabbing his sweatpants to change. He didn't mind if you were looking or not, as you had seen him like this before.

You didn't dare glance at him, and Matt had a feeling you wouldn't. He stayed silent after changing, then left the room for the bathroom, probably to brush his teeth and take care of business as it was already 11 pm.

"Hey y/n, my brothers and I are going to watch a movie in the lounge... would you like to join?" he asked from the door frame, still brushing his teeth.

You continued scrolling on your phone but gave a thumbs down in response. He rolled his eyes, noticing you were still being dismissive.

After a minute or two of brushing his teeth, he finished and frowned at you, but you hadn't seen his reaction.

“Alright, I'm leaving you here," he wanted to stay with you because he cared about you, but he couldn't handle your attitude and guessed you didn't want to see him.

He decided to leave you be, closing the door behind him. As you took off your headphones, you could faintly hear his footsteps moving away.

You were aware that you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. Feeling tired and unable to sleep, you found yourself giving everyone the same negative energy.

Before long, Matt returned unexpectedly. You met his gaze with surprise, but remained silent.

"Nick mentioned you might be on, so I brought some chocolate from the cupboard," he said, placing the chocolate next to you and handing you a hot water bottle.

Although you were confused because you weren't expecting him and you weren’t on your period, you appreciated the gesture. You smiled faintly, but remained silent.

"You know what? I want you to say thank you. I'm not going to treat you like a princess when you're behaving like a brat," he snapped, clearly upset by your actions.

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his intense blue eyes as he stood with his arms crossed firmly.

"Well then, thank you," you finally spoke, your voice tinged with sarcasm from lack of use.

He wasn't convinced by your words and struggled to remain calm. "Y/n, baby, if you give me that fucking attitude again, I won't hesitate to make you regret it."

You laughed, aware of your bratty behavior but unconcerned, which only seemed to infuriate Matt more. He watched as you put your headphones back on.

Suddenly, he slammed his bedroom door shut, startling you into thinking he had left. Instead, he approached you, swiftly removing your headphones and snatching your phone before tossing it away, careful not to damage it though.

"Matt, what-" you started to speak, but he hushed you, clearly angry. You weren't going to listen and were about to speak, which led him to harshly pull your hair to get your attention.

"Shut up. What you're going to do is suck my fucking cock until I tell you to stop. I don't care if your throat gets bruised, I'll appreciate the silence," he said in a forceful tone, making sure his brothers wouldn't hear. He tugged your hair before stepping back to expose himself by lowering his sweatpants.

Without saying a word, he intended for you to perform the act, but he sought permission through his eyes. If you truly didn't want to, he would stop. He understood that you were more reserved, so this forceful approach likely left you feeling vulnerable and speechless.

After locking eyes with you, he received a nod, confirming your consent. Without hesitation, he stroked himself to get harder than he guided himself into your mouth as you sat up slightly.

“Want me to stop, then say so." He didn't appreciate your behavior and wouldn't have spoken like this, but he had too since he felt a bit concerned because you weren't accustomed to roughness.

He proceeded to guide you to perform oral sex on him, occasionally causing you to gag.

"If you hadn't been acting like a bitch today, I would have given you whatever you desired. But you had to be a bad girl, didn't you?" he remarked, with a moan escaping him as he felt the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, making him bite his lip to stifle his own sounds of pleasure, mindful of his brothers in the house.

He encouraged you to increase the pace without hesitation, locking eyes with you as he twitched with pleasure, particularly around his erect member.

Sensing his impending climax, you intensified your efforts. You were surprised by how quickly he was reaching the peak, realizing that at this moment, he wasn't as gentle in bed as he had portrayed himself to be.

"If I wanted to, I could bruise your throat, but since I'm feeling generous, I won't. But damn, I really want to," Matt says in a low voice. He makes you take it all which made your eyes watering by the gag you did.

Your nose brushing against his skin as you comply, but soon he ejaculates without warning which makes tears roll down your cheek but not on purpose.

He makes you swallow it, unconcerned about his semen dripping down your chin. He bites his lip, trying not to moan too loudly because of his brothers.

Releasing your hair, he allows you to pull away after you've swallowed, your eyes meeting his. "Matt," you whisper, but he just smirks, wipes the cum off your chin, and makes you suck his thumb.

"You did a good job, darling," he winks before standing up, grabbing a tissue to clean himself before getting dressed.

Your eyes follow his movements as you feel wet, and you know he's aware of it. He chuckles as he heads towards the door.

"I don't reward naughty girls. Maybe if you change your attitude, you might get lucky," he says before closing the door behind him as he goes to join his brothers with the film.

"Matt?!" You called out, speaking quietly instead of shouting, hoping he would hear you. However, he ignored you and sat down with his brothers. You groaned softly and stayed silent.

You decided not to approach him since he was with his brothers. Instead, you lay on his bed, feeling a need for him but trying to ignore it.

You were aware that touching yourself would only intensify your desire for him, as your fingers were not like his. So, you simply chewed on your lips while returning to your phone.

You were still turned on, your lips in a slight pout after biting your lips. You could still feel how wide he was around your lips just moments ago.

You had texted him, but it was evident he was ignoring you. You glanced at your text before getting comfortable on his bed.

You let out a slight groan before sending Matt a few more texts, noticing that he was reading them now but not replying.

Hoping for a message from him, you were interrupted by the sound of the door closing as Matt entered.

"Can't you see I'm watching a movie with my brothers? Do you always have to bother me?" he said with a smile, briefly showing his tongue between his teeth.

You looked at Matt. "But Matt, I'm sorry... I apologize for my behavior," you said, prompting him to laugh at your words as he leaned against his bedroom door for a moment.

"You apologising because you feel it, or because I won't fuck you like I usually do?" he says bluntly, meeting your gaze.

Noticing your silence and the expression in your eyes, he rolls his eyes. "Looking at me like that won't make me feel guilty," even though he finds himself looking at you with desire.

You continue to keep your eyes on him, and he sighs before locking the door and sitting down next to you. "You’ve got on my nerves today, and now you're staring at me like a slut. Screw you," he whispers with a slight smile.

"I mean I am a slut for you," you tilt your head slightly, causing him to adjust his position as he feels his sweatpants getting tighter because of you.

"Don't, y/n," he warns, eyeing you up before closing his eyes briefly and then focusing on your face.

You chuckle softly before running your hand over his chest, slowly moving closer to him as you start to kiss his neck, prompting him to move his head to make it easier for you.

You playfully nibbled on his neck, your hands moving towards his shirt while you create hickeys that he loved, but always got angry about it when he had to film a YouTube video with his brothers, as his fans would find out.

You paused, leaving hickeys which will show later and removed his shirt. Though he tried to stay mad at you for your behavior earlier in the day but your current actions were making him forget all about it.

"Are you really doing this while my brothers are in the other room?" he muttered, knowing that you riding him would make it impossible for him to stay quiet.

"You weren't complaining when I was giving you a blowjob," you teased, kissing his lips to prevent him from responding.

He kissed you back and touched your chest, even though you were wearing a shirt. You focused on his pleasure, ignoring his touch.

He knew you were usually gentle in bed, but the way you kissed him made him want to have his dick in you right then and there. He realized that you were going to be rough for once but he wasn’t gonna allow you to fuck him when he can’t punish you.

You quickly pull away to remove your shirt while Matt deftly unclasps your bra with one hand, a move he has mastered through repeated practice with you.

"Impatient?" you tease, but he silences you with a hush. "I suggest you keep quiet, you're the one in the wrong," he retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"If you try to boss me around, I might just leave you like this," you retort, playfully tapping his nose before removing his sweatpants, revealing his nakedness. You are surprised to find he isn't wearing any boxers.

As you gaze at his throbbing manhood, a smirk plays on your lips. Despite his hips twitching in anticipation, you press him down with your weight.

He grows impatient, enjoying your dominance but craving to be intimate with you. Catching your gaze, he swiftly pins you down and takes charge before you can react.

"Another time, darling," he whispers with a wink, planting a kiss on your neck and fondling your breasts. He then begins to tease your nipples as he harshly bites your neck and licks it.

He pressed his hand over your mouth, stifling your moans. "Hey, stay silent, got it?" he whispered sharply.

You nodded in agreement as he released your mouth. He ceased nibbling on your neck and instead traced his tongue down to your stomach.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as you brushed his hair away from his eyes. He planted a kiss on your stomach before pulling back.

Meeting your gaze, he proceeded to remove your shorts and underwear simultaneously. His smirk grew as he observed your reaction before kissing the top of your intimate area and withdrawing.

"I'm not going to make it easy for you. I want your apology to be sincere," he declared, firmly grasping your chin to establish eye contact. Your heart raced.

"I'm sorry, I truly am," you whispered, causing him to briefly glance down at his arousal before returning his focus to you. "Say it again," he demanded.

Before you could comply, he forcefully entered you, prompting a loud moan and an arch of your back, followed swiftly by his hand covering your mouth.

He knew you wouldn't stay silent, so he quickly grabbed his shirt and stuffed it in your mouth. Your eyes widened as he spoke. "You need to stay quiet."

Without any warning, he deeply thrust inside you, causing you to moan, though it was muffled.

Although you weren't used to his roughness, you found yourself starting to enjoy it. You whimpered and grabbed his back, scratching it in response.

He groaned, tightly closing his eyes before easing up slightly. His thrusts became faster until he reached his limit of speed.

He continued grunting, keeping it quiet as he was skilled at being dominant. He held your legs to widen them further.

He felt you tighten around him, biting his lip to stifle a loud moan. His hands gravitated to your breasts once more, his thumb stimulating your nipples more intensely.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the desire evident in your eyes signaling your impending climax. He intensified his thrusts, pushing a few more times before you reached the peak of pleasure.

Your loud moans were muffled by his shirt as he felt you envelop his manhood, prompting him to grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he continued thrusting until he reached his own climax.

Moaning with his eyes rolling back, both bodies glistened with sweat. He quickly pulled away, watching as his essence leaked out of you.

He gazed at your womanhood as you both caught your breath. Eventually, he turned to you. "Have you learned your lesson?" he inquired, to which you nodded.

He lay down beside you, picking up his phone to text his brothers that he wouldn't be joining them for the movie until he had cleaned both of you up.

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

[keikikait]

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

based on a request by @milesdrift

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 10.5k

summary: you reconnect with an old friend while seeking quiet refuge from the midsummers party

warnings: longtime friends to lovers, kook!reader & kook!rafe, emotional rafe comes out for like 2 seconds, drunk rafe, light-medium angst, soft rafe, fluff?, talk of anxiety, topper is a bitch, blackmail is mentioned but it's not actually done, not proofread

a note: ik its long i don't wanna talk about it

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Although you and Rafe had grown up together, you weren’t the best of friends anymore.

Your father and Rafe’s father, Ward, were business partners. Your father handled the financial side of everything, while Ward was the face of it all. You had spent countless dinners at his house, spent more summer nights than you can remember in his backyard, helping your dad grill. You were a fellow Kook, and while your house wasn’t as extravagant as Tannyhill, you still grew up in Figure 8 with the rest of them. 

You and Rafe were close at one point, spending some of your elementary years closer than ever before. You spent every waking second together, but everything changed when you both went to middle school; he started getting angrier, louder, and soon just completely ditched you for his new friends Topper and Kelce. You spent so much time watching him from the sidelines, and you spent a few years crushing on him, admiring him from afar and just wondering what it would be like to be his. It wasn’t until you went to Kildare Academy alongside him, Topper, and Kelce, that you realised he would never feel the same way. After all, you weren’t exactly a close friend of his anymore.

At least, you thought you weren’t. It wasn’t long after hearing of Ward’s death that Rafe was on your doorstep, drunk out of his mind and soaked to the bone from the rain. It was late, almost 11 PM, and you had let him in, giving him a towel and some of your older brother’s old clothes to borrow for the night. He wouldn’t mind anyway, he was engaged and living in Raleigh with his fiancée, doing something in IT and tech. Rafe eagerly accepted the clothes, although you had to help him change, trying your hardest to keep your eyes and hands from wandering while you helped him out of his old wet clothes.

The dryer hums from down the hall as it runs, tossing his clothes around. Rafe lies on your bed, his legs hanging off the end, his feet flat on the ground. You sit next to him, water bottle in hand, watching him. He has his arm thrown over his eyes, blocking out the soft light of your bedside table lamp.

You swallow, moving a little closer to him. “You okay?”

“Mm.” He grunts in response, still keeping his eyes covered. He didn’t smell the best, the smell of weed and hard liquor practically wafted off of his soaked form. The alcohol, though, seemed to be the main thing that took its toll on him. He was a mess of a man as it was, but when he drowned himself in alcohol like this, you weren’t even sure that it was Rafe in the room with you anymore.

“I heard what happened, I um…” You hesitate, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, Rafe.”

“Don’t,” He says, raising his arm from his face just enough to glare at you through the crack in his arm. “Don’t you dare pity me.”

“I’m not pitying you,” You say. “I really am sorry, Rafe.”

“Yeah, you seem real sorry,” He huffs, dropping his arm back in place, blocking out the light again. “Sitting there, staring at me with your big doe eyes.”

Your face gets warm, and you bite back a smile. “I let you in, didn’t I? I could’ve kicked you to the curb. But I didn’t.”

“Mm, you’re such a saint, you know that?” He grumbles, although this time he did let out a bit of a chuckle. He drops his hand down onto his chest, resting it just above his heart as he tilts his head towards you.

You lay down next to him, your shoulders touching, your legs dangling next to his. Your voice is soft when you speak, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He turns his head towards you, his body following suit, rolling to his side, so his whole body faced you now. He stays quiet for a moment, just looking at you, before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “What is there to talk about?” He grumbles again. “He got shot and fell off that stupid fucking cliff. Now there’s a big, father-shaped hole in my life now. End of story.”

“Did he ever even fill that hole?” You ask quietly. You immediately regret your words, but it seems like Rafe doesn’t even care.

“I… no. No, not really,” He admits, swallowing around a knot in his throat. “But it’s a hole I was counting on… one day filling. And now there’s no chance for that.” He rolls onto his back again and covers his face with his hands. After a few seconds, you hear his breathing get heavier as his shoulders shake up and down.

He’s crying.

You roll over to face him, wrapping one arm across his chest and over his shoulder. “No, hey come on, it’s okay.”

Rafe doesn’t fight your hold, and he shifts onto his side in front of you, facing you as you pull him into your embrace. He buries his face into your shoulder, his hands grabbing at your sides, holding onto you tightly as he begins to sob.

You rub his back with one hand, the other cupping the back of his head. “It’s okay, Rafe. It’ll be okay.”

His whole body shakes against yours as he cries, his fingers grabbing and clinging tightly onto your sides, like you were the only thing keeping him together. Rafe’s nose presses into the crook of your neck, his warm, shaky breaths ghosting against your skin as he cries against your shoulder. His voice is so soft you almost didn’t hear him. “I want my dad.”

Your heart shatters, and you pull him closer, fighting back tears of your own. “I know, Rafe. I know. I’m sorry.”

His arms wrap around your back, enveloping you in his arms, and his legs hook around one of yours, pulling you in closer to him, as if he’s hoping that if he holds you tightly enough he would be able to hold himself together. For a few long moments, he falls silent, the only sound being the faintest hitch in his breathing every couple of moments. Eventually, Rafe speaks again, his voice muffled against your neck. “I really messed up.”

“No, you didn’t.” You say, tightening your grip on him. 

“Yes, I did,” He whispers, nuzzling himself further against you. You can feel one of his hands trail up your back, his fingers tangling into your hair. It almost seems like he’s trying to melt himself into you. “Everything I’ve ever done… everything I’ve ever said… I did so many things just to try and-and make him proud of me. Everything I did was never enough to make him see me the way I wanted him to. But I still kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing. For what? For nothing. For absolutely nothing,” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I wanna know it’s not my fault. I didn’t mean it.”

Your eyes well with tears, and you quickly wipe them away. “It’s not your fault, Rafe. You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t push him. It’s not your fault.”

His fingers tighten in your hair as his lips drag against your neck, leaving a damp trail across your skin. “I could’ve been a better-a better son,” He whispers against your neck. “I-I could’ve tried harder, I could’ve been better. I-” He chokes back another wave of tears, his whole body trembling in your grip. “He was never proud of me.”

“You don’t know that,” You whisper. “He always talked to my dad about you. My dad said you were all Ward talked about. Not Sarah or Wheezie. You.”

“That doesn’t mean he was proud of me.” Rafe mumbles. His hand that has been gripping your side released its hold on your shirt, his fingertips trailing up your side as he shifts ever so slightly in front of you. His fingers brush against the edge of your shirt, slipping under the baggy fabric and settling against your bare skin. His palm presses flat against your side, holding you, fingers spreading out over your skin.

“You don’t know that he wasn’t.” You say.

He slowly lifts his face from your neck, his fingers gliding along the curve of your side as he pulls away. Rafe swallows hard, his eyes fixed on you. He looks like a mess; his eyes red and puffy from crying, his face red and patchy from wiping his tears away. His eyes flicker down to your throat, and he pauses for a moment, his lips slightly parted as he studies your skin. When he finally speaks again, his voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “I feel sick.”

“Do you need to vomit?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” He croaks, his hand still lingering against your side, his fingers gently brushing back and forth across your skin. Something in his eyes seems a bit… off. Normally, he was loud, and cocky, a bit obnoxious at times, but still somehow charming. Right now, though, he seemed… vulnerable. Broken down. He was exposed in ways that you didn’t even know he could be. You hadn’t ever realised how blue his eyes were before now.

“Come on, honey,” The nickname slips out without much thought as you help him sit up. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

He doesn’t have it in him to protest your help, and he lets you ease him up and guide him to his feet. He kept one hand around your torso, his other wrapping around your shoulder as he lets you guide him towards your bathroom, practically stumbling behind you as he tried to walk. His grip on you stayed steady, fingers pressing into your side and digging into your skin.

You push open the door to the en-suite bathroom, helping Rafe kneel down by the toilet. “If you need to vomit, just do it. Don’t hold it in, okay?”

He swallows, still stumbling slightly as he knelt there in front of the toilet. “Okay.” He croaks. A few moments pass, and then suddenly Rafe’s whole body tenses up, and he lurches forward at the waist, leaning over the toilet. He gags, the first few being dry gags and coughs, before, after another heave, Rafe lets loose the rest of his stomach contents into the toilet, throwing up everything in his stomach.

You look away, rubbing his back. “There you go. Better out than in.”

He stays hunched over the toilet bowl for several long minutes, coughing and dry heaving. It finally passed, but he still knelt there, heaving and gagging. “I-“ He started hoarsely, a trail of spit dripping out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes still red and puffy. His shoulders shook once, and you could’ve sworn it was another heave, but when he finally spoke again you nearly choked at the sound of how wrecked his voice was. “I need a drink…”

You let out a small chuckle, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping his mouth. “You’re drinking water only.”

He lets you wipe his mouth, and he watches you through tired, bleary eyes. “I-“ He tries to protest, before his face turns a little green again. He grumbles, then sighs, mumbling against your touch. “No booze?”

“No booze.” You say.

“Okay, okay, fine.” He mumbles, sighing again as his shoulders drop in defeat. “No booze, then. Just… I need something. I need to- I need to-” He pauses halfway through his sentence, swallowing hard as he suddenly leans forward at the waist again, hovering over the toilet. He gags again, a thin trail of spit connecting his lip to the rim of the bowl, before he leans back again, gasping and panting.

You look away, quickly rushing back to your bed to grab the water bottle. You head back into the bathroom, rubbing his back as he pukes again. “There we go.”

He heaves and coughs for several more moments before finally collapsing back against your touch, sagging into your hand on his back. His head falls forward, his face against his shoulder, forehead pressed against his arm as it rests against his knee. He looks and sounds like a wreck, his whole body trembling in front of you. He’s a mess. A complete, utter, heartbreaking mess. 

His voice comes up, hoarse and ragged. “You… you called me honey.”

“I did.” You say, wiping his mouth again. You uncap the water and pour some into his mouth. 

He doesn’t argue, his mouth parting readily when you hold the bottle to his lips. He closes his eyes as a few mouthfuls of cool water washes away the taste of vomit, and a soft groan escapes his throat when you pull the water away. When his eyes finally open again, his gaze shifts back to you, and that same look is still in his eyes. The same lost, brokenness that made your chest ache for him.

You hand him the bottle. “Do you wanna stay here tonight?”

Rafe stares down at the bottle, his hand coming up to wrap shakily around it. His fingers linger against yours a moment longer than needed, touching your fingertips for a brief second before withdrawing, his fingers sliding down the cold plastic of the water bottle. After a long moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice hoarse and raw from the vomiting. “… Yes. Please.” He whispers.

“Come on,” You say softly, helping him to his feet. “There’s a guest room down the hall.”

He lets you pull him to his feet, stumbling to his feet without much resistance. He was clearly exhausted and worn out from vomiting, but even so, when you tried to remove your hold from him, he protested. His fingers wrapped around your wrists loosely, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was practically begging you not to let him go. “No,” He whines. “I… I need to be with you. I can’t be alone right now.”

“Okay,” You say softly, slipping your hands into his. “You can stay with me.”

He lets out a soft sigh, the tension leaving his shoulders as your fingers slide into his. His fingers intertwine with yours, and his thumb brushes against the back of your hand. Although he seemed like he wanted to say something to you - his lips parted, and his gaze dropped to watch your fingers, he seems to change his mind at the last second, and simply squeezes on your hand. After a beat, he gives your hand a tug, gently pulling you towards your bed.

You climb in next to him, already in your pyjamas from earlier in the night. You give him an extra pillow, letting him get comfortable. He lets out a sigh, pulling his knees up towards his chest a bit as he turns his head to face you. One arm slips between the pillow and his head, propping it up slightly, while the other finds its way to your side, resting there on the other side of your body. “Rafe?” You ask, your voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you come here?” You ask. “I'm not, like, upset, but... we aren't very close anymore, you know?”

To answer that question, Rafe reaches his hand that’s on your side up a bit, his fingers trailing up your shirt and settling on your stomach, his palm laying flat against the soft skin of your stomach. His fingers trace soft lines back and forth against your abdomen absently, like he was trying to soothe himself just by touching you. “Because I need someone right now,” He replies after a long moment of silence. “And… you’re the only one that I’ve never been scared to tell I was hurting. Top and Kel… they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t comfort me, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” You say softly. “I’m glad you came back to me.”

“Thanks for letting me in.” He mumbles in response, his fingers still tracing lines over your stomach. It was something that he must’ve unconsciously started to do once he laid his hand against you, but it still sent shivers down your spine when you felt his gentle touch on your skin. 

You pull him into a hug, your voice still soft. “Get some sleep, Rafe.”

Rafe doesn’t protest this time as you tug him into a hug. His arm tightens around your back, and he squeezes a bit in your embrace, drawing himself in a bit closer. He lets out a soft sigh, his face pressing into your neck, and his body finally slumps against you. “Goodnight.” He mumbles against your skin.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

You don’t remember the last time you journaled. 

The morning after, Rafe left in a rush, leaving only a pile of your brother’s clothes in his wake. You spent a little too long staring at the ceiling, the feelings you felt for him so long ago coming back to rear its ugly head. You flipped over, pulling the drawer open and digging around in your bedside table, pulling out the leather-bound journal and a ballpoint pen.

You let your stream of consciousness out, filling out pages and pages about your night with Rafe and your conflicted feelings. You don’t date the entry, quickly shoving it back into your bedside table for another day. You spend the rest of your day stuck in limbo, wondering, thinking about your next interaction with Rafe. What would he say? Would he even acknowledge you? Did Topper and Kelce know about your night together?

You didn’t want this to control you as it used to; spending hours awake at night, wanting and praying that Rafe would see you in the same way you saw him. Praying that Rafe liked you, not whatever Kook girl caught his eye that night. You didn’t want to pine for him anymore, wandering behind him through the desert, hoping he’ll lead you to an oasis. You always wanted him when you were finally fine. You kept journaling, though, filling pages upon pages with your thoughts, whether Rafe was even in them or not. You decided to push him aside, to only speak to him if he spoke to you first. Out of sight, out of mind. And it worked. You didn’t think about him for weeks, even when you would see him at the corner store or at the gas station. He didn’t approach you, so you didn’t approach him.

You had managed to move on again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It was taunting you on your calendar. The Midsummers Party.

You hated it every year. It was one of the town events that gave you the most anxiety. You hated the crowds, the loud music, and the aura that surrounded you; your fellow Kooks thinking that they were better than the people on the south side of Kildare just because their mommy and daddy had more money. You were supposed to hate the Pogues, it was supposed to be ingrained in your DNA, but you didn’t. Why would you just hate someone purely because they didn’t have as much money as you? You were grateful for your life, grateful for the life that your father and mother built for you and your brother. You didn’t want to take it for granted like some of your fellow Kooks did.

Your dress was simple; a flowy, pink, low cut linen midi dress with thin straps, a $35 steal you got from a thrift store on the mainland. You hunted through your closet for your old sandals, putting them on before checking your outfit in the mirror again. You looked cute, which was the most important part. You would spend the entire time sitting in the corner alone anyway, trying to get yourself to relax. You grab your bag and your keys off of your bed, and you’re a few steps out the door when you get a nagging feeling. You sigh, looking back into your bedroom, fingers tapping on the door frame as you start to contemplate.

The journal and the pen join the belongings in your bag before you leave, shutting and locking the door behind you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

The Island Club is already lively when you arrive, giving your key to one of the valets. You slip him a large tip before heading inside the country club. The country club is abuzz as you take a step inside, music thumping throughout the house as you pass through the massive front room and make your way towards the outdoor seating. Pogues and Kooks alike mill about, chatting amongst themselves and laughing heartily as they make their way indoors and out. The whole club smells like food, and smoke wafts through the air from the various barbecues that are going on throughout the outdoor patio area.

You were already overwhelmed. The chatter is nearly deafening in your ears, the various sounds of people talking and music blaring from speakers filling your head. You feel like you can’t breathe. You don’t want to be here, stuck in this country club full of people. Everyone here is loud and drunk and happy. 

And you’re drowning in the sea of it all.

Across the country club, leaning against the bar, is Rafe. Midsummers was always fun for him. Loud music, endless drinks and even more pretty Kooks, all there to celebrate one of the most exclusive events on the island. As the sun set, the dance floor was filled with couples, dancing against one another and getting drunk on endless bottles of rum. He stood around a group of his friends, drinking and talking with a smile on his face. His gaze was always drifting out to the sea of Kooks and Pogues before him, but it lingered every so often when a pretty girl passed.

The bar was packed with people, all clamouring and fighting to try and get a drink before the entire bar was empty and the Pogues would end up stuck drinking piss beer from kegs out on the patio. You push your way through the crowd to the bar, squeezing yourself up next to a couple other people and waiting your turn to actually get the attention of one of the bartenders. You fumble with your wallet and get your ID out, managing to order a tequila sunrise; your go-to drink for a fancy, Kook heavy event, something sweet to mask the hard liquor inside but still strong enough to distract you from your impeding thoughts. You grip the edge of the bar tightly, closing your eyes as you take one more deep breath, trying to block out the noisy chaos around you. Just a few drinks and then you can escape to the beach and hope no one will find you.

You look around and meet Rafe’s gaze from the other side of the bar. He’s been watching you since the moment you entered the country club. He flashes you a small smirk, his eyes lingering on you as people bustle and push around you, filling up the bar and blocking him out from you. He watches you for another moment, his body still slouched against the bar, talking to the people around him, before he finally pushes himself up, and starts to weave through the crowd towards you instead.

You grab your drink, handing the bartender a cash tip before turning around, meeting Rafe face to face. “Uh, hey.”

“Hey,” He replies with a charming smile, taking a step closer to you, standing just a bit closer than was strictly necessary. “Fancy seeing you here,” He muses, raising his beer to his lips and taking a sip. “Thought you hated Midsummers.”

“I do, but uh…” You sigh. “My parents want me to be here, so…”

“Right,” Rafe sighs softly, taking another drink of his beer. His eyes flick up and down your form as he does, the corner of his lips twisting up in a slight smirk. “Well, I’m glad I get the privilege of seeing you all dressed up, then.”

You feel your face grow warm. “Yeah, I guess.”

He chuckles at how awkward you are, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before flicking back down to your body. “You look nice, by the way.” He compliments. It was genuine enough, his gaze lingering over your curves and the low neckline of your dress, before they flick back up to your face.

“Thanks,” You say. “You do too.”

That little compliment sends a jolt through Rafe's chest, and he tries to keep his face as neutral as possible so that you don’t see. He doesn’t get compliments like that often - not genuine ones, anyway. He smiles to himself, his face softening a bit before he catches himself. “Yeah, well, I gotta look good, you know?” He replies, giving you a wink before taking another swig of his beer.

“Yeah, uh…” You look behind him and immediately make eye contact with Topper, who doesn’t advert his eyes. You look away, stirring your drink with the straw. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have fun, alright?” You walk away before Rafe can respond, pushing through the crowd to find a seat.

He lets out a sigh, watching you disappear into the crowd, before pushing himself away from the bar, and returning to the group he was with. Topper and Kelce both look his direction as he comes up to them.

“What was that about?” Kelce asks, raising a brow. 

Rafe shrugs, bringing the beer bottle to his lips. “I’ll catch up with her later.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

You try to enjoy Midsummers. You really do.

You drink your tequila sunrise rather quickly, hoping the warmth of the alcohol with calm your nerves, but it does the opposite. It’s overwhelming - the lights, the music, the people. Every once in a while a hand will grab your ass, or brush against your side as it reaches past you, and it’s all slowly becoming suffocating. Your heart pounding in your ears drowns out the shitty house music, and you feel nauseous as you make your way through the crowd, trying to find the exit to the patio. 

Your escape into the patio doesn’t seem to do much, though. The patio is just as full as the house, people sitting in the outdoor seating to eat and talk while others dance. A bonfire burns in the corner, and a few small groups stand about it, talking and drinking and laughing. You take a deep breath, feeling the cool sea air on your skin as you make your way through the patio, heading towards the beach entrance. You had to get away, your skin already starting to itch with discomfort.

You finally make it to the beach entrance, the sounds of the party in the country club fading slightly as you take in the sound of the ocean instead. It’s cooler here than inside the club, but somehow even the beach is still packed. Couples sit together against the dunes, talking quietly in hushed whispers, and the air is thick with the smell of weed as people pass joints between one another.

You can feel yourself getting annoyed, getting angry. You just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet, away from the loud ass Pogues and the other Kooks with their leering gazes. You walk through the sand, sandals in hand, trying to find an empty spot. It takes a few moments of walking across the beach to finally find an empty spot, surrounded by a cliffside, though it’s not much of one. You’re far enough from the party that the light from the bonfire on the patio doesn’t reach you, and the music and the laughter is faint from far away. Still, you’re just close enough to the country club that you can hear the thumping bass.

You’re surrounded on all sides by couples that have gathered on the beach, too. You can hear their whispers and laughter, quiet intimate moments in the setting sun, and it just seems to make you angrier. You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the sun as it settles into the horizon, watching the colours change.

The sun slips behind the horizon, the sky slowly fading from purple and orange to the black of night, lit up only by pale stars and a crescent moon. The air grows colder as night creeps in, a soft breeze sweeping off the ocean, carrying the sound of the waves hitting into a soft roar in your ears. It’s still too loud. The voices of the couples on the beach next to you and the music from the club don’t allow any kind of peace, no quiet moments for you to just breathe.

You set your bag down beside you, digging through it to pull out your journal and your pen. You start to write another entry, undated, just like the rest of them. It’s just pages of your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings, words pouring out of you in the dim light of the setting sun. It’s just your stream of consciousness, all the things you’re feeling and thinking. It feels good, like a release to just unload it all onto the page, and every word that comes off of your mind and into the journal just serves to relieve the growing tension in you. Your shoulders start to droop, your mind too focused on writing and the sound of the crashing waves to pay attention to the couples around you.

The world fades away, and it’s just you, the crashing of the waves, and your pen on the page. Your mind empties and it’s finally so, so quiet, the weight off of your shoulders almost lifting you up entirely. You’re so focused, so deep into your writing, finally having the peace and quiet you were wanting--

The pen nearly flies out of your hand when you jump, feeling someone tap on your shoulder. You quickly shut the journal, your head spinning around. “Jesus, dude! You scared the shit out of me!”

And there’s Rafe, standing there behind you, a grin on his face as he watches you quickly clutch your journal to your chest. He puts out a placating hand, giving you an almost innocent look. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.” 

You sigh, your shoulders tense again. “It’s fine.”

His face falls slightly, no longer grinning, as he notices just how tense you are. He glances around for a moment, taking in the couples on the beach around you all curled up to one another. He swallows, looking back to you. “You alright?”

“Fine, just…” You sigh again. “Overwhelmed, I guess. I get bad anxiety at things like this. I can normally handle it, but…”

He watches you for a second, studying your face, the way you hold the journal to your chest, the way your shoulders are still tense. The way you’re clearly still on edge. He slowly sits down next to you, the sand shifting under him. He stretches out his legs in front of him, dropping his hands into the sand, and his knee pressed against yours. You slip your journal and pen back into your bag.

He stays quiet, just sitting with you, listening to the waves and the sounds of the couples next to you. He finally speaks after another moment, his voice quiet. “Why’d you come if it makes you so anxious?”

“My parents,” You say. “They expect me to come. I have to, for like appearances and stuff. The ladies at my mom’s book club like to gossip, you know?”

He lets out a quiet snort, nodding. “Yeah, I get the whole appearances thing. This whole party is basically just an excuse for the Kooks to flaunt their money and kiss ass.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly.”

He smiles a bit to himself as you laugh quietly, but his gaze still watches you for a moment longer before he turns to look forward, watching the waves as they crash into one another and spill onto the beach. He’s quieter than usual tonight. Usually he’d make some kind of smart ass comment to go with his answer, but tonight he seems almost pensive.

You sigh, leaning your head against the side of his bicep. “It’s just so loud in there and people kept touching me. I don’t know how you do it.”

Rafe’s shoulders tense at your touch, but he doesn’t pull away from you, he just lets you lean against him for a long moment. He swallows a little bit, his hand twitching in the sand in-between you too, before he finally speaks again. “You get used to it, after a while.”

You hum in response. “Is it cool that I’m doing this?”

“Yeah,” He replies quickly, his shoulders finally relaxing as he takes in a deep breath. It’s silent for another moment, but the way his muscles relax under your touch makes it clear that he appreciated it. “Yeah, it’s fine. You can do whatever you want.”

“Thanks, Rafey.” You mumble, the old nickname tumbling out. “I’m feeling better already.”

Rafe stiffens at that nickname, his breath catching in his throat just for a second. He was surprised to hear it again - it had been years since he’d last heard you call him that. He swallows, forcing himself to stay calm as the nickname stirs a little bit of that old feeling in his chest. “Yeah, you look a little better too. Less green.”

You snort. “Thanks.”

He gives you a slight nudge with his elbow, smirking a bit at your snort, but his smirk fades almost immediately, his face falling back into a more thoughtful look. He stays silent another moment, still listening to the waves and the couples around you, but his thoughts seem to be a million miles away. He finally speaks again, voice quiet. “How often do you get anxious? At events like this, I mean.”

“I’m anxious from the second I arrive until the second I leave,” You say. “I’m not built for crowded events. I don’t like when people stare at me.”

He keeps his gaze on the ocean, but his shoulders sink a bit at hearing that. He never knew that, to be honest - he always assumed you were built for these kinds of parties, more at peace with crowds since you were born into it. The fact that you’re just as anxious as he used to be makes his chest ache a bit, and his gaze flicks over to you. “How’re you feeling now, though?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” You say, wrapping your arms around his bicep, leaning against him.

His breath catches again, his stomach jumping when you wrap your arms around his arm, and his hand twitches a bit, like he thought about wrapping it around you for a moment before he stopped himself. He swallows, but he still can’t fight the slight flush that rises up his neck as he stares forward, a small smile twisting at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah? Why, do I just have a calming aura?”

“It’s the familiarity, I guess,” You say. “I feel safe around you.”

Rafe’s shoulders relax a bit more at that answer, his face softening slightly, and his smile grows the slightest bit. He can feel his own heartbeat in his chest still, but he lets out a breath, trying to keep his cool. “Good, that’s uh… I mean,” He swallows, trying to think of what the right thing to say is, before settling for the truth. “I want you to feel safe around me.”

“Good.” You say. You look up at him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. His gaze flicks back down to you again, and he looks down at you as you stare up at him, before he slowly raises a hand, lightly brushing a strand of hair out of your face. He studies you a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, taking in how calm you look now as you leaned against his side. There was something about you that Rafe was drawn to, and he couldn’t explain why. All he knew was that he loved the way you felt against him. For a split second, his gaze flicks down to your lips, the smallest moment where he’s tempted to lean down and kiss you.

He turns back to face the horizon, sneaking his arm out of your grasp and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling you against him. You comply happily, wrapping your arms around his waist. He lets out a quiet sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, his face flushing more as you get closer to him. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, looking forward towards the sea. It was so peaceful - the waves, the cool breeze, the feeling of your body against his. It was just perfect.

He breaks the silence. “You doin’ anything after this?”

“No,” You say, rubbing some of the material of his shirt between your thumb and pointer finger. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Rafe says, his hand moving up to absently play with the hair at the back of your neck. It sends shivers down your spine, and he smirks slightly, pulling you closer. “Havin’ an after party if you wanna come. Top and Kel already left to get it started.”

“Who’s gonna be there?” You ask.

“The boys,” He says with a slight shrug, running a finger along the side of your neck, tracing it along your skin. “Some people from the club too. But I want you there, if you think you'll be okay.” He adds as an afterthought, his hand settling gently against the side of your neck, his thumb ghosting back and forth against your skin.

“Promise to take care of me?” You ask, your tone joking. 

Rafe chuckles a bit, smiling lightly as you joke. He nods, running his thumb in small, comforting circles against your skin. “I'll look after you. I won't let you out of my sight.”

“Then I’ll do it,” You say. “Should be fine. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

He smiles, leaning his head down and pressing a whispery kiss to the top of your head. “Good, cause I want you there. Everyone else sucks.” His thumb brushes along your neck one more time before he draws his hand back, returning it to rest on top of one of your arms around his waist. His gaze flicks from the ocean back to you, studying your face again as you leaned against him. “Can I tell you somethin’?”

You nod, looking back over the horizon. Rafe takes a deep breath, his hand absently rubbing up and down your back as he gathers his words, trying to decide how to say this without ruining everything. He was always awkward when it came to things like this, and having a beautiful girl in his arms made it even more difficult to say. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask.

His eyes linger on yours for another moment before he speaks again. “For leaving you that morning without saying goodbye. I was… I was just scared. Scared after losing Ward. I just had to go home.”

You smile softly, squeezing him. “It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. You were going through a lot.”

His shoulders relax as you squeeze him, a soft breath escaping him when you say you understand, and a soft smile appears on his face. He pulls you more snugly against him, his face flushed from your squeeze, and he presses another soft kiss to your head, letting out another one of those soft breaths. “Good, I’m glad you get that. Um… you know I care about you, right? Like, a lot. That’s… I mean, that’s not gonna change. I…” He trails off for a second, hesitating before finally continuing. “You mean a lot to me.”

“I care about you too, Rafey.” You whisper, looking back up at him.

His eyes soften, his stomach jumping. His heartbeat is still quick in his chest - he can still feel it through his ribs. He swallows quietly, a hand slipping up the side of your neck, fingers grazing up until they’re under your chin. He slowly raises your chin up, staring down into your eyes. “I’m glad,” You smile softly, leaning against his shoulder. His gaze lingers on your face for another moment, studying your sweet look a moment longer before he leans down, leaning his forehead against yours. The hand on your neck stays in place a moment, his thumb brushing your jaw, before sliding down your neck again. “You ready to get outta here?”

You nod. “Yeah. Ready when you are.”

He smiles softly, his thumb brushing over your neck one final time, before he slowly pulls away. He pushes himself up, groaning a bit as he straightens, his back popping. He reaches down and offers you a hand. “C’mon, beautiful.” 

Your face grows warm again as you take his hand, putting your bag over your shoulder. He pulls you up with ease, a hand wrapping around your waist to help steady you once you’re on your feet again. He lets out a soft sigh, looking at your face again, before starting to walk with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you up the beach.

You make your way to the country club. You hang around outside, waiting for Rafe to say his goodbyes, as you wipe your sandy feet off on the grass, slipping your sandals back on. He doesn’t take long inside, giving a few last farewells to the few people still mingling in the country club before heading back out to you, still waiting for him. He can’t keep the slight smirk off of his face as he steps out, spotting you waiting around. “Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You say.

He smiles, walking over to you and resting his hand on your back again, guiding you away from the country club and towards the parking lot. His hand drops from your back when you get to his car, but his fingers brush your arm as he walks past you. He unlocks his truck before rushing around and opening up the passenger side door. “After you.” He said with a smirk.

You climb in, getting comfy. His car is always clean, a bottle of sunscreen and a water bottle in his cupholders. Dangling from the rearview mirror is a pear scented air freshener and a photo of him with his sisters Sarah and Wheezie. “Is it at your place?”

Rafe closes the door behind you and quickly walks around, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. He doesn’t immediately drive off, though, and instead just starts the car and leans back in his seat, letting it idle for a moment. “Mhm. My new place. That cool?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Yeah, course.” You say.

“Good,” He says, pulling his seat belt on and pulling out of the parking lot, pulling out onto the road and driving towards his new house. The sun had set a while ago and the drive is peaceful, Head over Heels by Tears for Fears playing softly from the radio as the wind brushes through your hair from the slightly-open windows. You admire him as he drives, watching him quietly sing along, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

He doesn’t catch your eyes watching him until he glances over at you for a moment. He smiles when he catches you looking at him, his cheeks growing a bit warmer, but he quickly turns his gaze forward again, focusing on the road. He doesn’t say anything, just taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music and keeps driving. As you approach his new house, he turns the radio off, Heat Of The Moment by Asia just getting seconds to start playing. He parks the car, quickly getting out to rush over to the passenger side to open the door for you.

“Thanks.” You say, hopping out.

“No problem.” He smiles, holding out a hand to help you out. When you’re safely on the ground again, he keeps your hand in his, shutting and locking the car before guiding you towards the house. As he does so, he glances down at you, his face growing a bit warmer when he realises that you’re now holding his hand.

He opens the door, the party already in full swing, music blasting while drunk Kooks grind up against each other. The house reeks of alcohol and weed, music blasting through the speakers and people talking loudly amongst themselves. The majority of the crowd appears to be drunk and/or high already, people swaying and staggering around each other, talking and laughing drunkenly. Rafe slips inside, pulling you along with him through the crowd, heading straight for the kitchen, where Topper and Kelce are, beers in hand while they talk to a few of Rafe’s other friends.

“Where can I put my bag?” You ask, keeping it close to you.

He looks at the bag, opening the fridge. “Yo, Top.”

Topper looks over. “Sup?”

Rafe grabs your bag, handing it to Topper. “Put this in my room and I’ll let you snort some lines.”

Topper seems intrigued by the promise of free cocaine, already heading out of the kitchen towards the stairs. 

“Thanks, Rafe.” You say. 

He shuts the fridge door. “No problem,” He watches Topper head off before turning back to you, resting his hand on your lower back. “You want a beer or somethin’?”

You shake your head, getting closer to him. “No, I’m good.”

He smiles softly, rubbing small circles with his thumb against your back. “You sure? Plenty of stuff you can try out.” He nods towards where the makeshift bar is set up in the living room, various bottles of liquor and hard alcohol all stacked up.

You shake your head again, fully leaning against him. “Nah. I’m good right now.”

He smiles, putting a bit of pressure against your back, pulling you closer. He’s a bit buzzed himself, a few drinks into the evening, and feeling good already. He leans down a bit, almost resting his chin on your head. “Alright, beautiful.” You lean against Rafe, head resting against his chest as he talks to his friends for a while, beer bottle in hand. You’re feeling a bit anxious, but all things considered, being right against him is providing you some comfort. Your eyes flutter closed for just a second before you open them again.

Topper approaches, a stupid smile on his face, definitely a little drunk. Rafe smiles, his hand absentmindedly playing with your hair for the time being. He glances over when Topper approaches, seeing the smile on his face. He lets out a snort, looking at his friend. “You snort something already?”

Topper ignores him, hands immediately going to cup your face. “You…” He shakes your head. “I know about you.”

“What?” You ask, trying to pull away.

“I know,” He repeats. “I know what you do.” He doesn’t let you go, his hands lingering on the sides of your face, though his hands are now a bit more rough.

Rafe’s face falls immediately, a bad feeling brewing in his gut. “Top, what are you talking about?”

“You left your journal in your bag,” Topper says, squeezing your face. “I read it. Couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart drops, a chill going over your skin. “What?”

Topper grins stupidly, still squeezing your face in a way that’s making you uncomfortable. “I read it.” He repeats. “You and all of your anxiety.”

Rafe’s eyes fill with dread as he hears that, his eyes widening slightly with terror. He swallows. “You weren’t supposed to read that, dude.”

“Oh, that’s not all!” Topper exclaims happily. “Someone…someone’s got a crush on you, Rafe.” Topper glances over at him. “A big, fat, gigantic crush on you. Half those pages are about you, man.”

You try to pull your face away, but his grip tightens. Your stomach twists and churns, hot, shameful tears welling in your eyes. Rafe’s heart drops into his stomach at Topper’s words, and his gaze flicks over to you almost immediately, his eyes widening when he sees the tears. He swallows, trying to stay calm as he takes a step forward. “Topper, let her go, man. Don’t do this right now.”

Topper lets go of your face, pushing you slightly. “Don’t tell me you pity her, man.”

“She didn’t do anything,” Rafe argues with his friend, clenching his hands into fists. “C’mon, man, you don’t gotta do this. Just leave her alone.”

“Hey, listen,” Topper grabs your arm when you try to walk away. “I won’t tell anyone. All you gotta do is get down on your knees and open your pretty mouth for me, alright? All you gotta do is put my balls in that pretty little mouth of yours, and I won’t tell a soul.”

Rafe pushes Topper away from you, sending him tumbling into the counter. “You’re being a dick, man, don’t say that shit to her. Come on.” 

Topper stands up and shoves him. “Don’t be a pussy, Rafe. She can handle it.”

“I don’t care if she can handle it, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Rafe says angrily.

“Why do you care?” Topper asks. “You care about this little slut?” Rafe goes to lunge at him but stops himself, and it causes Topper to laugh. “What? You gonna hit me?”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Rafe says. “Just shut up. Don’t talk to her like that. I won’t let you treat her that way. Quit being an asshole before I fuck you up.”

Topper laughs. “I could kick your ass, man, and you know that.”

“Yeah?” Rafe challenges. “Come on. Hit me.” He slaps his cheek over and over, inviting Topper to take a swing.

“Rafe, hey, stop,” You grab his arm. “Don’t fight. Come on.”

Rafe doesn’t look at you as you grab his arm, his eyes still locked on Topper’s, waiting for a punch, daring his friend to hit him. Topper hesitates, waiting for a moment before finally grinning and dropping his shoulders. “Look at that. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“You know what? Party’s over,” Rafe says. He cups around his mouth before yelling. “Everyone, get the fuck out!”

Almost immediately, everyone starts heading for the door, the party rapidly dying out as people start piling out into the night. The music dies down as Topper pushes past Rafe, his shoulder checking him on his way out. “Pussy.”

Rafe just clenches his fists, biting his lip, as he stands there and watches everyone leaving. The door slams shut with the final departure, and you look over at him, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. “You okay?”

When the door shuts for the last time, he turns to look at you, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears in your eyes. He swallows, moving towards you and cupping your face, wiping away the other stray tears off of your face. “I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You say softly. 

“Good,” He says softly, sighing. He keeps his hands on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You’re good. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about Topper.”

“It’s not your fault.” You say.

“Still,” He sighs. “You didn’t deserve that. That’s not how any of this should’ve happened.” He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against yours as guilt overflows his chest.

Your eyes close and you sigh, leaning into his hands. He lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he just feels you lean into him, a warm feeling going through his chest. He’s not even quite sure what to say, still overwhelmed from the events that have just unfolded in front of him. He just stands there with his eyes closed, pressing his face against your forehead. 

“He was telling the truth,” You say, breaking the silence. “About what he read. They’re all about you.”

He swallows, keeping his eyes closed for a few more seconds before slowly opening them again. “I know, beautiful.” He replies softly, his voice nearly a whisper.

Your stomach twists. “You knew that I liked you?”

“Yeah, I knew,” He replies softly. “I’ve known for a while.” He hesitates, his fingers grazing against your cheek. “Didn’t know you felt that strongly about me, though.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you pull away, trying not to cry. You felt so stupid. “They were… they were older entries, Rafe.” Although deep down, you knew you still felt the same way.

His face falls when you try to pull away, guilt filling his gut, and he quickly moves his hand to catch your wrist, trying to stop you. “Hey, wait, don’t pull away, please,” His eyes look sad when he sees that trembling lip, his grip tightening on your hand. “It’s okay, beautiful, please just stay.”

“No, no, you…” You shudder. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I’m not ‘doing’ anything, beautiful,” He says softly. “Stop pulling away. Stay. I’m trying to talk to you. I… I want to talk to you about this.”

“I know you don’t feel the same way, Rafe,” You say pathetically, starting to cry. “You don’t have to do this.”

He swallows, the guilt just building and building and building as he watches you start to cry, and he can’t stand to watch you cry for another second without doing something about it. He takes a step forward, taking your face in his hands. “Look at me.” You look up at him, whimpering slightly.

He gently wipes away your tears, his gaze locking on yours as he forces you to look him in the eye. His face is soft, his look comforting, and his own chest hurts just from looking at the hurt in your teary eyes. He swallows to collect himself before speaking. “I know they were older entries, but I know you still like me.”

You shake your head, but you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, yourself or Rafe. “Rafe, please, you don’t have to do this.”

He can tell that you’re trying to deny it, and when you start begging him not to do whatever he’s trying to say, he finally just breaks. “Stop.” He says, almost begging himself. His thumb presses against your jaw, trying to still you and get you to look into his eyes. “Please, just stop. Stop saying that I- that I don’t have to say anything. I need to say this.”

You nod, letting him talk.

He swallows again, trying to organise his words and say everything right in his mind before he says it all out loud. It’ll be too real if he does. He holds your face in his hands as he looks down at you, his own chest rising and falling as he tries to find the words. “I know that you still like me, and I know you’ve felt that way about me for a long time. But I just… I’m just terrified I’m going to mess it up. Like I always mess everything else up.”

“You don’t mess anything up.” You say.

He looks away for a moment before looking back into your eyes, swallowing. “Beautiful, I do. I mess everything up. That’s just who I am, I mess everything good up, and I can’t bear the idea of risking messing it up with you too. You matter too much to me. You, like, you actually mean something to me, and I just can’t stand the idea of not being able to be in your life because I messed everything up.”

“How would you mess this up?” You ask softly.

He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself again. “I don’t know. I don’t know how, but I would. I mean, I screw everything else up, so why should this be any different? I’m gonna get too messed up and act too crazy and do something that pushes you away. And you’ll hate me, or, or worse, you’ll just go away. You’ll walk out of my life and it’ll just be like you were never there.”

“I’ll never leave you like that, Rafey.” You say, leaning into his palms.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling you lean into his hands. It feels so good, so right, that he can’t stand it. He lets out a breath before opening his eyes again, swallowing hard. “You say that now, beautiful, but it doesn’t change anything,” He says softly. “I know I’m gonna screw this up, I’m gonna do something that hurts you, and I just can’t stand the idea of ever hurting you, beautiful, I…” He trails off, his chest constricting as he desperately tries to get his words out. “I lost Ward. I'm loosing Sarah to that fucker John B. She doesn’t even go by Sarah Cameron anymore. I can't lose you too.”

“You’ll never lose me.” You say, moving your hands up to cup his.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily as he feels the warmth of your hands wrapping around his, your words like a soothing touch to his own soul. It’s like everything inside him just settles at your words, a feeling he hadn’t realised he was craving for the longest time. He opens his eyes again, slowly, before looking down at you. “Promise?”

“I promise,” You say. “I…” You hesitate, sucking in a breath. His chest is a nervous wreck, his stomach twisting into so many goddamn knots as he just waits for your words, his eyes never once leaving yours.

You take a shaky, tear filled breath. “I love you.”

Everything falls silent. Rafe’s mind goes blank, all thoughts just vanishing from his head as those words fall from your lips. All that fills his head is your voice. I love you. I love you, it echoes, over and over and over again, bouncing around his mind like a ball in a dark room. He can’t think of anything else as those words just crash through his head, leaving everything in rubble. His heart feels like it’s stopped, that it’s just frozen in his chest, and he’s speechless.

Your bottom lip trembles again, a fresh new set of tears already welling in your eyes. “Please say something. Please do something.”

When you plead for him to speak or do something, it snaps him out of his daze, and his heart comes back to life. It starts pumping again like he’s run a mile, and suddenly he’s all movement as he suddenly pulls you against him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He just holds you like that at first, hugging you tight tight tight, his head burying against the side of your neck, letting out a huge breath against your skin.

“You don’t have to say it back,” You say, wrapping your arms around him. “I know it’s hard for you to say, and you don’t have to say it back to me.”

He just hugs you tighter when you say that, his hands clutching at the back of your shirt. “Shut up,” He mumbles against the side of your neck, his voice a whisper. “Just shut up. You stupid, beautiful girl. Shut up. Shut up.”

You let out a small laugh, hugging him tighter.

Rafe hugs you even tighter at the sound of your laugh, his arms wrapped so tightly around your back that you might have trouble breathing soon. His heart is still beating a mile a minute, and he just wants to squeeze all the air out of you, so that you’re forced to only breathe him. He buries his face against your neck again, his voice a whisper when he speaks. “Say it again. Please.”

“I love you.” You whisper into his ear, kissing his temple.

His breath catches in his throat when you whisper those words again, saying them against his ear and kissing his temple, and he can’t take it. He squeezes you tighter, almost afraid you’re going to disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight enough, if he doesn’t hold you close enough. His lips suddenly press against your neck, kissing it over and over, his voice a shaky whisper. “I'll say it. Eventually. I just can't right now.”

“I know.” You whisper.

He buries his face against your neck, still kissing your skin over and over as his mind races, trying to collect himself. “Stop telling me it’s okay. Stop being so damn forgiving, beautiful girl. I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” You say.

He sighs against your neck, finally pulling away, though he still keeps his arms wrapped tight around your waist. He doesn’t look you in the eye, his eyes falling to the collar of your shirt, his eyes just locking on the skin of your throat. “I’m a mess,” He says. “I’ve never done anything right in my life. I mess everything up. Why do you want to put up with that?”

“Because I love you,” You say again. “I always have, and I always will. Even if we don’t end up together, I’ll still fucking love you.”

His breath catches to hear you say that. Hearing those three words again makes his stomach twist and his mind go blank, but he finally forces himself to look into your eyes again. He swallows before speaking. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You say, sticking a pinky up.

His eyes fall on your pinky, and for a moment he just stares at it, seeing it in front of his face. When he finally comes to his senses, he lifts a hand off your waist to reach forward and lock his pinky with yours, his eyes locking back on yours. When he locks your fingers together, a warmth rushes through his chest, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes grow soft as he stares into your eyes. For a while, he just stands there, looking at you as he takes in the fact that you… love him. That you’re, actually, in love love with him. And he’s standing here, holding your hand in front of him, just trying his best to keep his shit together.

Rafe swallows hard before speaking, “Can I kiss you?”

“God, fuck, please do.” You breathe out.

God, he can’t believe he’s actually hearing that from you - begging him for a kiss. His heart leaps in his chest to hear that, that soft, pleading response, and he barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s suddenly surging forward, pressing his lips against your own. His hands release your waist and instead move up to cup your face, tilting your head back as he suddenly kisses you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he keeps his hands on your face as he kisses you, pulling you flush against him, closing his eyes. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced - he’s kissed plenty of girls before, sure, but he’s never felt this. You, you feel so different. He can’t even begin to put into words what it is about you that makes it different, what it is that makes you different from all of the girls he’s kissed before.

All he knows is that it is.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

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