#life happened and so much has been going on

[edward-munson]

just for tonight | S.H.

Summary: You and Steve can't stand each other. You always jump at each other's throats whenever you are together. You have set a goal during his birthday party, but you didn't think it would work.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f! reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v (protected sex), oral (m receiving), choking kink, fingering, (sort of) aftercare, a little bit of angst

Word count: 4.6k

-`♡´-

If there's something Steve hates the most besides hating you, it's the fact that Robin insisted you should come to his birthday party. And he insisted it was his birthday, and you would ruin it if you were there. He wasn't wrong, though. You made his life a living hell simply for the fun of it, but he would always make sure he did the same.

And there you were, holding the same scowl on your face as he does. Whenever he had to walk past you in his big apartment, he would try to avoid your gaze, but deep inside he wanted to show you how much he despised your presence. You couldn't give a shit about him, completely ignoring his existence as you were drinking your Piña Colada while talking to Eddie about something random.

At some point, you started to notice how Steve would go back and forth. While you were sitting in the stool of his living room with Robin and Nancy, you would notice he would stand there and huff. Now you try to pretend you're not listening to him as you look straight forward, but your left ear perks up when you listen to what he's saying. He's complaining he has been turned down twice until now. You try to hold back a snort and sip on your drink to avoid that to happen.

Pretty, golden kissed skin, perfect sat hair on his head and muscled Steve Harrington was complaining he was being denied. Twice. You thought your night wasn't going to be good at all, but the sight of him with pouty lips as he talks to his girl friends, it was worth getting out.

You lost count on how many drinks you had, you already smoked weed with Eddie, who drank more beers than he could count as well. Argyle was also in a funny state of drunkenness. You were dancing with both girls too, bumping a few times into each other as the alcohol traveled through your system. You're in a daze as you swing your body to the music, barely keeping your feet steady and Eddie has to hold your waist a few times so you won't fall on your face. You laugh at it all.

You laugh even more when you watch from afar while a girl rips herself from Steve's grip and gives him an apologetic nod, before turning her back to him. He turns his head directly at Robin, who's dancing beside you, and it's enough for him to notice you were watching all of it as well. This time, you snort and cackle. You laugh so hard, there's no reason to hide it. He rolls his eyes and walks towards you, his hands balled into fists as his face holds a scowl again.

"Is it all amusing to you?" His face gets closer to yours, his eyes are kind of blown from the weed he also smoked.

You sipped on your drink, nonchalant, and shrugged. "Well, I just think it's funny how king Steve can't seem to score on his birthday"

Robin tries scolding you with a warning look on her face.

"It's okay, Steve! Someone will like you!" She comforts him with a gentle look. Her hand rubbed his shoulder.

He's actually still shooting daggers at you, mouth closed on a thin line. His chest is kind of puffed because he feels like his body is rigid from his anger.

"You should just stop being such a brat. This is my house. Go find something better to do" He scans you up and down with disdain over his eyes and you just hold your gaze at him.

And you did.

But you never intended to stop looking his way to make sure he wasn't getting a girl. And it's not like there were many options, because it wasn't a big party anyway. You complained to Eddie about the way Steve talked to you, and he laughed it off.

He was being annoying too. He would try at all costs to bump into you whenever he got closer. Steve was trying to get on your nerves just so you could feel what it's like. And when you were left alone for a moment, he would send you this taunting sly smirk. When you were leaving his bathroom, you were caught off guard when his sudden shadow made its presence in the hallway. He passed by you, shoving his shoulder against yours when he made his way to the bedroom.

Back to the living room, when you were all dancing, he made sure he would hit his back against yours, making you stumble forward. It was getting really infuriating. You looked back over your shoulder, just to catch him mouthing a forced "sorry" with another smile. Then something switched inside of you. You weren't getting guys either, but because you didn't want to. So you decided there would be a goal tonight.

You placed both hands over Eddie's shoulders and danced to the music. You swayed your hips to the rhythm, sliding down until you were almost crouched. Your dress rode up a little, showing a little more of your skin. He was flabbergasted to see you dancing like that out of nowhere.

You stood up and kept swinging your hips left and right. Turning on your back to your friend, you couldn't help but notice how Steve's eyes would divert whenever you caught him looking. You smirked. It was working. You then moved to Robin, dancing on your back to her as she placed her hands on your hips, dancing in sync with you. You dropped your head back, leaning against her shoulder, biting your lip.

"Yeah, honey. Whoo!" She gripped your skin through the fabric and grazed your stomach.

You and Robin were always too touchy and sometimes it made people think you had a thing. Steve included. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat, growing impatient as he saw the way she was holding your ribs, fingers touching the curve of your breasts. He tried to focus on his other friends, but it was too hard when you were looking at him that way.

He waved it off, reminding himself why he hated you, why he despised you. He remembered why he didn't invite you even then, you were forced to come because of your friends. But the thought of ripping off the material and sucking on your skin was making him become annoyed.

You were twerking with Robin and Eddie, your ass bouncing to the music. Your hips rolling as your legs are tangled to Eddie's. He doesn't care if you look hot, you're like a sister to him and it's hard for him to actually sexualize you. They knew what you were doing by now. They were catching sight of Steve holding his glass of whisky tightly. Your eyes drifted to him a few times, and your tongue would slip between your fingers in a cocky way. He knew that.

There was no one in the kitchen. You went looking for a beer as the buzz of all the drinks you had was too much now. There were too many empty bottles spread through the sink, along with the bottles of booze. A few snacks were on top of the kitchen island. You were too absorbed into your own thoughts as you ate the food and sipped on your newfound beer. You didn't see when Steve came right behind you.

His frame caged you between the kitchen island, while towering over you. His big hand found your hip and he swung you around, your faces barely touching as your eyes widened. He wasn't scowling, but his brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed.

"What?" You ask in confrontation, his arms leaning against the furniture behind you. "What? You're frustrated no one would fuck you on your birthday?"

Steve didn't answer you, rather, he chuckled with sarcasm. You watched as he shook his head, looking down. When he looked up at you, one of his hands flew up to your face, he was gripping your jawline almost forcefully.

"You know it sounds like you're just jealous, right? It seems to me you wish you were the one I was hitting on".

You laughed at his words, you truly laughed. But you couldn't deny the fact that Steve Harrington was almost God's grace.

"Oh, Stevie. Not even if the world was ending" Your own hand came up to his cheek, where you left a mocking slight slap.

He reacted to that. He truly wished you didn't have to be so bitchy about it. But now it was his time to play your game. His free hand reached for your side, fingers sliding up to your ribs. His thumb stroked your skin through the dress, right under the curve of your breast.

"Are you sure?" He rasped, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His breath hit your skin and it left goosebumps.

The ones you couldn't fucking control. He mused at your reaction. "Yeah. That's what I thought".

Your only plan was to induce him. You didn't think Steve would actually come after you at all. And now you didn't have cards to play against him. And it made him realize he was the one ahead of you this time.

"So now that you have no other options, you come crawling to me?" You spread your hands against his chest, slipping your fingers down his white t-shirt, all while he tightens his fingers around your side.

He has to hold a grunt, because you're so hot and yet adorably annoying. He hates you, yes. But he would never deny fucking you either.

"Now, you wish. Don't pretend you're not enjoying this, pretty girl" His voice is like honey when it reaches your ear.

His fingers are rough on you, but they never hurt you. His expensive cologne is not helping either. And the way his hair falls on his face makes you think you wish you could rake your fingers through them. Your legs almost close in response to the pet name, but he's pushing one of his own legs in between yours. You didn't even notice it.

"Don't be so arrogant. You may be handsome, but you're far from being worth the time".

And you lie. You don't even budge, you don't blink an eye. It makes you realize how good of a liar you are and how bad it would make you look.

But it's not like he doesn't know you well enough to see you're not saying the truth and he laughs again. There's a soft, but still hard look on his face, he pouts at you with a sided smile and tilts his head. You wish you could admit he's not worth it.

"Right. So I won't waste your time" He then leaves your skin, and steps back. You immediately miss his touch. His leg isn't between yours anymore and he gives you another look before going back to the living room.

Steve can't do this anymore. He wished for a long time he would fuck you dumb. Just to hear you say his name. So he slowly retrieves back and turns his footsteps. And he waits, for a moment, but he waits. He's walking away sluggishly from you.

And you watch him walking away. Your heart is pumping faster and your hands are gripping too tight on the edge of the kitchen island. Your knees are wobbly. For a few seconds, you think it's better this way. Maybe you won't work in bed either. Maybe it would be a disaster doing that. But your body aches for him, your stomach burns craving for his touch. You call him out in almost a whisper, but it's enough for him to hear you.

He turns his head first, the corner of his eyes peering at you. "Are you sure?" He barely sees when you just nod, still holding yourself up from all the tension. "Fuck this".

He clings to you in a rush, holding your waist with both hands as he brushes his lips against yours. "Tell me we're not gonna regret this" He breathes out.

"I know I won't" Your arms wrap around his neck, hands finally tangling between his hair.

He needed reassurance, because there was no way he would regret this either. There was a fire growing inside his chest from seeing you this night. Obviously he wished he went to bed with another woman, but there's something about you that pulls him in. He wants to drown in you. His lips finally crashed against yours, for the first seconds it was an intense rush of feelings. You let out a muffled whimper, leaving him desperate to taste more of you.

His tongue slips through your mouth, colliding against yours. He tastes your beer and you taste the bourbon he was having. It's an explosion of lust between you two, finally. Steve lifts one hand and plants it on your neck, his rub stroking your chin. You wouldn't know he was soft after all you've been through. All the bickering, all the mocking. Every time you crossed paths, there was a look of aversion at each other.

You were almost always together. There were times you refused to go out with your friend because he was going too. Or he wouldn't go to someone's house or go out either because you'd be there. It's been like that for almost two years, ever since you saw him making fun of Eddie when he was still a new friend. And you hated that. You started to hate him with a growing avoidance to be near him.

After you started to mistreat him and be ironic most of the time. Until he started to fight back. Eddie was such a sweetheart, he was the one to stop you from fighting. He said it was okay, because then he became friends with Steve. But you never agreed to that and never forgave him either.

Now you were almost turning into a puddle. He kisses like he can't get enough of you. And you battle for dominance with your tongue. You pull the nape of his hair back and he groans. He tugs at you and pushes his hips forward until you feel the bulge straining in his jeans. His thumb slips down your neck as he feels your pulse, and then squeezes your throat lightly. You breathe out against his mouth with a soft moan and he loses it.

"Fuck, you're going to kill me" His voice is hoarse. Steve opens his lids only a few inches just to look at you with lust fulfilling his eyes.

He doesn't waste anymore time as he holds you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He makes his way to his bedroom, locking the door as he shoves both of you against it. He kisses you again and there's no romance in it. He's impatient and bites your lower lip, pulling it back gently. It's a mix of roughness and softness at the same time. He drops your weight, only to capture your ass with both hands this time. His fingertips graze over the curve of your ass, digging his nails against it.

There's a jolt on your body when he slaps your asscheek. It stings but it doesn't hurt. "You like that, huh?" He chuckles against your mouth and gives your lips a smell peck before slapping you again.

"You're such an arrogant dork" You pull back and use both hands to shove him by his chest until the back of his knees hit his bed.

He watches in awe as you bend down in front of him, small gentle hands undoing his jeans, sliding your fingers against his boxer. You feel the roughness of it, his cock being pressed by the fabric, a damp patch forming around it. You don't need to waste your time with teasing, so you immediately get rid of both at the same time, watching as his hardness springs free. Reddened tip, leaking precum. His length surprised you.

You wrap a hand around his girth, stroking him a few times. You look back at him behind your lashes, his eyes trained at you with such an unreadable expression. He doesn't seem to hate you right now. You see how his chest rises quickly, and you bite your lower lip when you notice how his eyes shut when you stroke him harder. 

Your fingers spread the liquid over his shaft before you finally get to taste him. You lick a stripe from his balls until the tip and put on a show for him. You swirl your tongue over the sensitive spot and open your mouth, sucking on it. Steve throws his head back, leaving a loud growl in reaction. You can't help but hum. You lower your head further down, bobbing it a few times until you're used to his size. You don't think you can deep throat him, but you try your best to get past half of it without gagging. 

His tip hits the back of your throat and he moans. He doesn't care if he's vocal. You use your free hand to rest it over his stomach, fingers grazing his hairs, nails scratching his skin. You use your tongue to lick him through his length, pumping him with your mouth.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, fingers tangling on it. He bucks his hips forward and fucks your mouth. He can't stop whimpering either. You hear your name slipping out of his throat every now and then. You hold his shaft and suck his cock mercilessly, saliva dripping down his skin. You pull back with a pant, looking at him straight in the eyes and he hurriedly pulls you back up. Your mouth is so wet, from the spit, from his precum.

Steve is fast when he swings you around, removing your shoes and throwing them off. He pushes you slowly to the bed so you bend over to him, your ass in the air for him. He plants his palms over your cheeks, stroking them before slapping one and you jolt forward again, leaving a mewl.

"You're such a pretty needy thing, aren't you?" His tone is raspy and it trembles from his sight. Another slap. "Always so pretty. Delicate". Another slap. "It's such a shame we hate each other. Could've had fucked you way before".

You feel his hands lifting the hem of your dress, reaching for your underwear. He rolls it off your legs, getting rid of it before opening your legs apart with one knee. The air gets knocked out of your lungs when he uses his thumb to spread your slit. His finger reaches for your clit and rubs circles around it, making your hips stutter.

"Fuck, Steve" You plead. He collects the wetness of your cunt and uses it as leverage to push into your pussy and you cry out. "Shit".

He's lightheaded, drunk on you. Steve strokes his cock as he pumps his finger inside you a few times. He rubs his thumb up and down, pressing your swollen nub. He hisses whenever you roll your hips against his finger, feeling your slippy skin against his thumb. His cock is almost bursting into a mess and he can't seem to hold it back for too long, but he tries. He picks up a condom from his drawer and rolls the plastic around his shaft.

Still on your fours, you can feel him shifting behind you, positioning himself. His free hand stays on your waist as he uses the other one to rub his dick against your slit. You bite your lip from the obscenities you want to scream.

He pushes his tip first, feeling you clench around him. He takes another second before thrusting against you once, carefully so it won't hurt. You drop your weight forward, whimpering from the sensation.

"Fuck, I'm so big for you" His hips slowly start to hit on your ass. "You okay, pretty?"

You can't formulate an answer so you just nod. Steve could never be this gentle in your head. And yet, there he was, making sure you were good. You heard his own voice proclaiming curses under his breath each time he digs his cock further into your pussy. He starts pounding on you quickly, slapping his skin against yours.

You're both a mess of moans, you can't stand on your elbows and you can't stop rolling your hips against him. He holds your waist with both hands, firmly gripping on your skin.

"Oh God, Steve. That's it. That's so good" You yelp when you feel the tip of his cock hitting you.

His hair is a mess, there's a few strands falling over his eyes as he looks down. He takes his shirt off and throws it away as well, feeling his body on fire. Sweat streamed down his hairy chest, reaching his happy trail.

"You're so fucking good" He praises.

He leans down on you, thrusting harder against your pussy. The new position makes you feel every inch of his cock, his balls slapping against your ass too. Steve carefully wraps one hand around your throat, squeezing it. It's enough for your windpipe to close a bit.

You shut your eyes and your brows crease, voice too strained from pleasure to say anything else. He can only listen to your crying moans.

He licks his lips, moving closer to your ear. "You're such a kinky girl, I see" Steve whispers, his hot breath hitting your skin. You clench around him again and he leaves a groan next to you. "Fuck, do that again".

Now you chuckle, still in a daze. He's still gripping your throat tightly, fingers digging on your neck, straining you. You cage his cock so hard with your pussy, he pushes it all inside of you. He can't move it, and the more you clench around him, the more he feels his pleasure building up.

He pounds hard once, his free hand still holding your waist for support. You throw your head back and roll your eyes. His other hand never leaves your throat. He pushes further again, hips meeting your ass, and you cry. He then decides to pull you up, leaning your back against his chest. You're feeling limp already. His tip hits a different spot inside of you and it makes you roll your hips against him.

Steve rests his head over your shoulder, and he whispers such dirty things for you but you can barely comprehend what he's saying. He's wrapped an arm around you, snapping his hips against you. The other hand slips down your body, cupping one of your breasts. His fingers pinch your hardened nipple, ripping another moan from you.

He loves the way you're falling apart for him, as much as he's glad you're doing the same for him. Even though he would love to see you riding him. He feels your legs wobbling, tension contracting your body. Your muscles are sore and there's a knot forming in your stomach.

He's clinging to you, his sweaty chest is sticking to your back. Now he's not even pounding on you anymore, he's just pushing his cock in a soft motion as he whispers into your ear.

He grazes his teeth between your earlobe and breathes against your skin. You're already clenching so hard, he thinks his cock could snap in half. "Come for me, pretty girl".

Steve spreads wet kisses against your neck, sucking on it as he trails your skin down to your shoulder. You don't want to deal with that right now, you don't want to think how soft he's being to you. There's a coil inside of you and it snaps as you cum on his cock. Your body jolts and trembles over him, legs almost faltering.

You're squirming and clenching around him as he thrusts faster when he feels his orgasm reaching its peak. He usually doesn't cum together with a partner. It's either he waits for them to cum first and he finishes minutes later, or when he's feeling needy he finishes first. But it's hard for something like that to happen.

You're still coming down from your high, he spurts into the condom, feeling his muscles contracting. He never leaves you, he groans from the pleasure over your ear and leaves marks from his fingertips on you.

He gives his final thrust, throwing his head over your shoulder. He's heaving against your back, cock still twitching inside of you. You turn your head to the side where his head is resting and kiss his temple, ripping him from his daydream, catching him off guard.

He painfully pulls back from you, missing your pussy right at the same moment. Steve disappears into his bathroom for a few seconds, walking back and picking up the clothes from the floor. You notice you're completely naked and start wondering when the fuck you got rid of your dress.

You look at Steve. Sweat coating his skin. His hair is wet, as well as his chest and his stomach. His face is flushed and his breathing is still uneven just like yours. He hands you your lace underwear and gets dressed up. You're still peering at him from the corner of your eye, watching the way he tries to fix his greasy sweaty hair with his fingers, only making you feel giddy about it.

But it surprises you when he hands out a comb for you to brush your hair. Your head immediately snapping at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. He clears his throat when he notices your reaction, sitting on his bed close to you.

"I uh– Maybe we should, you know" He gestures with his fingers, but it's unclear to you what he wants.

And you giggle, tilting your head at him. "Are you getting shy on me, Steve Harrington?"

But he waves you off, pretending he doesn't know what you're talking about. It's kind of a strange feeling to be around him without jumping at each other's throats, but at the same time, it's a good thing.

"I meant, we should talk it off. You know, hating each other. I know you never bothered to show how much you hate me because of Eddie. And I know I was a dick" Steve never even tried to apologize to you before, knowing you were never open to it.

"Let's not get through this tonight, we should try to have fun on your birthday. See if you can actually score".

He chuckles when you finish your sentence, knowing there would be no way he would fuck someone else this night. Not even if he wanted to. "So... we're kinda good tonight?"

You look down at his hand that is expectantly waiting for you to shake it. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea after all. "Yeah, kinda. Just for tonight".

He shakes your hand as well, flicking his eyes between your hand and your lips. God, he wanted to kiss you again. You both get up from the bed and fix your clothes before leaving the bedroom, but when you're holding the doorknob, you feel his hand wrapping around your wrist carefully.

You look to your side, to the way he's facing you in a different way. His hand slips to yours, interlocking his fingers with yours, and he pulls you closer to him. You just let him. He holds your jawline with his free hand and hovers his lips against yours lips.

"Just... let me do it one more time tonight" And he kisses you, soft tongue colliding against yours again.

There's something conflicting inside of him. Like his feelings are battling against his mind. Because to him, there was no way he was starting to have emotions towards you.

Not now, not ever.

He breaks the kiss, and when he opens his eyes he realizes something. He was fucked.

[diushek]

Shen Yuan, who has been getting tattoos since he was eighteen due to his extra money and little sense of self-preservation. Nothing anime or anything virgin like that: landscapes elaborated like paintings, cherry blossom trees like ink dripping on his skin, a full sleeve of artwork that climb up his shoulder blade and slide down his spine with butterflies and moths, wild flowers, spider lilies, traditional clouds on his ribs; it was painful, but hey, the chronically ill Shen Yuan knows pain, and he's used to it. At least he'll leave a nicely decorated corpse behind when he goes.

So, Shen Yuan transmigrates. Shen Qingqiu has no tattoos, of course; his skin is white and flawless in a way that Shen Qingqiu hasn't seen his own skin in years. It's a little sad, but he sighs and lets it go.

Then one morning, he see a spot on his forearm. It looks like a mole is sprouting there, but more than a mole... It looks like a petal? Shen Qingqiu examines it and sighs, because honestly, he has seen stranger things lately.

So, more petals. The curve of the branches of a cherry tree. Shen Yuan recognizes the outline of his own tattoos on his old body, somehow ridiculous, transmigrating slowly into this body too! What the hell!

He thanks the robes that cover every part of his skin for the first time. Nothing is visible or strange. It's not like anyone would see Shen Qingqiu naked enough to ask questions about it.

Not much has happened and he hasn't even fully unlocked OOC mode when his skin is actually covered with his own tattoos. Oh, poor original goods, wherever he is, he must be rolling over in his metaphorical grave.

Then, that first mission happens, and Shen Qingqiu finds himself awakened in that skinner demon situation... Half-dressed!!!

Oh no!! The tattoos on his collarbone and chest are visible now!!!

Oh, fUCK, LUO BINGHE IS WATCHING HIM-

(Luo Binghe doesn't make any comment on that afterwards. Shen Qingqiu pretends he hasn't been seen and they both ignore the elephant in the room.)

...

(Luo Binghe had never been so horny in his whole life. How could someone as cold and neat as Shizun have so many drawings tattooed on his skin? Would he let Luo Binghe see them all, ever? Did he only have those, did he have more? What drawings were they? What meanings would they have? Would Shizun take needles and ink and put a drawing over Luo Binghe's heart? His Shizun couldn't refuse that, Luo Binghe would say that the only way to make it safe would be with the help of his Shizun... and he couldn't deny that Binghe had tattoos, considering all his own... Whatever his Shizun chose for him would be fine, just for having his Shizun making them on his skin so Luo Binghe could wear them forever...)

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

broke the sweetest promise (that you never should have made)

summary: your relationship with lando ends before it can ever really begin

parings: lando norris x ex!reader x harry styles

vicious speaks: this was supposed to be a cute little fic after i was inspired when listening to ‘electric touch’, and now it’s taken on a life of its own! i hope you enjoy this new mini series 💕 i had to make lando the bad guy, i’m sorry 😭 this is just setting the stage so there’s not a lot of harry but don’t worry, he’s in the next part!!

series masterlist

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liked by yourusername, harrystyles and others

lando we’re so golden ☀️

tagged yourusername

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yourusername we’re saurrr cute 💛

⤷ lando you definitely are 💛

⤷ fan1 can you put us all out of our misery and DATE ALREADY

⤷ fan2 fr!! yn’s looked like she’s been in love with lando for years and he’s been looking the same way lately 🥹

oscarpiastri two pretty best friends

⤷ yourusername missing our 3rd 😔💔

⤷ fan3 lmao oscar saw the shipping comments and said NOT on my watch 😭

⤷ oscarpiastri she can do better

⤷ lando SLOW DOWN SLOW DOWN

⤷ fan5 oscar PLEASE 😭

⤷ fan6 i fear osc isn’t joking

alexandrasaintmleux yourusername give me your hand in marriage NOW 💍💍 i’m SERIOUS

⤷ yourusername i’m all yours baby 😚

⤷ charles_leclerc i’m literally right here?

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux and?

⤷ yourusername is that supposed to mean something to us?

⤷ charles_leclerc damn okay

⤷ fan7 you got humbled so quick dkgjfjs

fan8 harry in the likes, what the hell 😭

⤷ fan9 maybe he’s an f1 fan

⤷ fan10 ooh i hope we’ll see him at a race!!

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yourusername has added to their stories

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fan1 IS MY LIFE A JOKE TO YOU

fan2 you’re crazy if you think we believe you’re just friends after this

maxverstappen1 oh my God did it finally happen?

fan3 this is basically a hard launch, right?

oscarpiastri you already know how i feel so i’ll just say that if you’re happy, i’m happy ❤️

fan4 you won’t last long, lando will get bored eventually 🤷‍♀️

yourbff bitch you have some explaining to do

fan5 omg are we about to get love songs for the first time?

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69,654 likes

tmz f1 driver lando norris and singer yn were seen in a pretty heated fight at a studio earlier tonight! apparently lando left her alone in tears. for those who don’t know, he and the singer have been best friends for a few years now, with fans recently speculating online about a relationship confirmation coming soon from the pair but those dreams were crushed when lando was spotted kissing a mystery woman on valentine’s day (see last slide).

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fan1 omg he’s such a WHORE

fan2 YN STANS WE RIDE AT DAWN 🤺

fan3 this is so sad, man. you can tell yn loves him and i thought lando loved her but clearly that isn’t true. she deserves so much better!!

fan4 leaving her alone in tears is such an evil move…lando norris you shall die by my sword

fan5 it was clear lando wasn’t ever going to see her as a serious option. she did this to herself!!

⤷ fan6 yn didn’t do anything to herself, lando is the one who keeps stringing her along, especially lately.

fan7 our girl needs to cut lando off, take time to heal and when she’s ready, move on with someone who actually loves her.

liked by yourusername

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fan1 damn tell us how you really feel 😭

fan2 this isn’t the confirmation post i wanted but i guess i’ll take it 🤷‍♀️

fan3 the fucking shade 😭😭

yourbff GET HIS ASS!

fan4 leave lando alone you weirdo

maxverstappen1 this is more information about lando than i ever wanted to know but i can appreciate what you’re doing it for

fan5 me when i lie

fan6 this is diabolical

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itsaria has added to their stories

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fan1 oh girl this is not it

fan2 this isn’t the serve you think it is

fan3 there’s still time to delete this

fan4 wow you really feel no shame in homewrecking

lando ❤️

⤷ itsaria you need to set the record straight about yn. people are in my dms calling me a homewrecker and i didn’t sign up for that shit, lando.

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yourusername i never wanted to bring this to social media but i was made aware that lando released a statement today that as you can see from above, is full of nothing but lies. we’ve been best friends for a few years now and i had been in love with him for almost all of them. we recently admitted our feelings for each other and decided to see where things would go between us. it was new, but we were relationship and he did cheat on me. i don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling but i haven’t seen or spoken to him since that night at the the studio and things between us are obviously not fine. i’m also pretty sure aria had no idea about me so please do not attack her. this is the last time i’m going to speak about this situation, as i want to move on with my life.

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theynsociety still not over taylor and yns surprise performance last night!!

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fan8 i’ve missed her so much!! she was literally glowing last night 🥹🫶

fan9 the fit!! THE HAIR!!! i have a feeling we’re about to enter her best era yet

fan10 harry’s always popping up in the most random places 😭

fan11 it’s been a long month, but clearly this break is doing wonders for her 😍

fan12 harry styles yn fan confirmed?

liked by harrystyles

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taglist: @pansexualdarling

[zomboivex]

Getting personal for a moment. But I feel it’s important to share, anyways.

When I was married, everyone in my life gaslit me to believe I was terrible with managing my money. Any personal expensive was noted as frivolous and wasteful. Bought some fabric for my hobby of dress-making with money I earned from a bonus?

That could have been used for the water bill next month!

Had a $1000 bonus? No. That’s for the house mortgage that he didn’t let my name exist on even though I paid for majority of the renovations because he was content letting the kitchen sit in disarray with thick dust in the air. Causing me to have severe allergy attacks every day.

Called off sick?

How could you? We have bills to pay!!!!

Go through extreme harassment at work?

No. You’re making it up. It’s an excuse to take a day off and relax.

Ignore the fact that he called off regularly because he had headaches while I was shamed into going to work despite having the flu.

Set up a joint account where only I contributed to put money in for bills to pay. Because he would pay from his account. Then he’d constantly drain the joint account for ‘bills’ and then spend his money on who even knows. We had 2 maxed out credit cards in his name.

But this was so normal to me. Because I grew up like this. I grew up with my ‘support system’ telling me this is normal. Telling me that I am the problem.

And I believed it.

I believed that everything that was wrong was me.

I didn’t know he was $7,000 in debt until our divorce where he was demanding I pay it off.

I never did find out what he used that money on. I suspect it was on his gaming addiction and my alleged ‘best friend’ he was sleeping with.

When I finally got out of that relationship, I was in financial ruin. I had nothing in my name. At 30.

I lost everything. (Except for the car that I begged for him to let me take and 3 of my 4 cats).

I lost the house I lived in for years. It was all in his name. There was nothing I could do about it. Because we were ‘only married for 3 years’ despite being together for 10.

I had no furniture to take with me. Save for a couch. That I couldn’t actually take because I had no place to go. I was couch surfing or sleeping in my car at this time.

I lost my dream job because my ‘friend’ worked there as well. And while they were beyond accommodating to my situation, I could no longer mentally handle being there nor could I handle the hour drive once I did find a place to live.

$1000 down on a new apartment.

Car broke down a month later. $1000 down on a new car.

Said car was stolen twice. Can’t even begin to tell you how much money that leeched out of my savings.

$23,000 (with health insurance) for surgery due to appendicitis.

All in a year after divorce.

It was defeating. It was so fucking hard.

In a span of a year I went through multiple life crises events. I can feel how it physically changed my ability to process information. In a way, I’ve become ‘dumber’ because of it. I can’t hold onto information. I have a hard time reading and staying focused.

Only reason I was able to even financially get through all of that was because I had some money saved from a lawsuit at the job that was harassing me that I wound up winning after the divorce. That and I finally caved in and got a credit card (my credit score was good) and a couple of personal loans.

I’m still paying it all off. It has been so fucking hard.

And I’ve been going through waves of hating myself for being so naive to feeling terrible for what I’ve been through because I didn’t see anything wrong with what I experienced as it was happening. And I’m finally coming to my own form of peace with this. But it was hard.

I had been with him for 10 years.

I don’t love easily. But I did love him. Even if I showed it in odd ways. I wouldn’t have married him, otherwise.

And then when everyone around me said I was the problem, I believed them.

Even now, I have an incredibly hard time understanding when I am truly in the wrong with a situation or if my reaction to things are justified.

I didn’t realize I was being put through mental and financial abuse by so many people around me.

I wish I could hug me from a few years ago and let them know they are so strong for going through all of this. But that they shouldn’t have had to be so strong for so long.

I wish I could hug every woman on the planet that has been through anything where they had to ‘be strong’ to survive while thinking it’s normal.

Baby, it’s not normal. You deserve so much more in this world.

You deserve your own freedom and a support system that values you and lets you know when you’re going through actual bullshit instead of painting you as the villain.

To all the women out there who go through these things; I love you. I see you.

maybe i’m a joyless bitch but i actually do NOT think it’s funny to see women being like “the house is just in my husbands name” or “my husband makes all the money” or “i don’t even know who our mortgage is with” or “the only bank account/credit card is his and i get an allowance” like i do NOT find that cute or romantic and i am begging these women to Stand Up. you should at least be named on the deed to your house and the title to your car and the bank accounts even if you don’t pay for them/earn all the money. you can’t stop existing in the eyes of the law and the credit unions simply because you have a husband. if you’re raising his children and washing his socks half of everything he’s got is yours and it needs to be yours LEGALLY BY NAME. "he takes such good care of me :)" girl you are a PRISONER!! that’s all

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 9 - cute note

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you and the girls were huddled on sarah's bed as you debriefed the night before, it still not processing with you.

"i mean we left you for 5 SECONDS and i turned around and you two were eating each other" kie laughed

"no like seriously i thought we were gonna have to push harder for project city but it seems you didn't need our help after all." cleo joined in the laughter.

"guys i don't even know like i'm still in shock." you said.

"well was it a good kiss...?" sarah questioined.

"maybe the best i've ever had," you blushed. "but i'm nervous to see him next like what happens now."

"well you have his number," kie started "and you also don't have long because we're actually about to meet them all for lunch!"

"you're fucking joking." you muttered.

"nope!" sarah chimed in. "so let's get you ready."

after a quick outfit change, you left your room to meet the boys downstairs to have a walk around LA and grab some lunch.

you nervously waited for them to appear, but they finally did, rafe leading the group.

he smirked at you as he came to say hi, pulling you into a hug to whisper in your ear "cute note."

your cheeks went red while you pushed him away, turning to jj to say hi to him too.

"good night?" he winked at you.

"shut up jj." you laughed, as john b and pope also bought you into a hug.

"seems like someone had fun." john b laughed with you, and rafe just stood back with his stupid grin on his face, but no sense of shame.

topper however gave you a little disheartened wave, and your stomach dropped slightly, knowing he was probably upset that it wasn't him.

"ready to go?" sarah interrupted much to your happiness.

"yeah let's" cleo replied, now holding hands with pope.

the group made their way down the steps of the hotel, the chatter flowing easily now that everyone was outside and on their way to the street.

you caught jj glancing between you and rafe, his eyebrow raised playfully, before he bumped your shoulder with his. “so, how was last night?” he asked with a grin.

you rolled your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

"no i'm serious. i want to know. it's been a long time coming." he was speaking in a hushed voice to avoid rafe's ears.

"what do you mean?" you asked.

"he's been talking about you non stop since he met you. like the dressing room chat before shows has been exhausting." he sighed.

"really? then why did it take so long for him to make a move?"

"because you're mysterious at showing how you feel. plus your sarah's friend and he's always been told to stay away."

"but he didn't stay away from me?" you said.

"i don't think he could even if he tried." and with that, jj joined the rest of the group.

rafe then fell in step next to you, his pace slower than the others as he leaned in, his voice low. “are you avoiding me?” he asked with a playful tone.

you shook your head, “now why would i do that?" you replied.

"thought you'd been freaked out by last night." he replied softly, with a hint of fear in his words.

"i would never," you reassured him. "just trying to figure it out."

"figure what out?" he smirked.

you looked at him with sarcastic eyes, shaking your head.

rafe's eyes softened, his eyes meeting yours with intensity “don’t worry,” he said, “i’m figuring it out too.”

his hand brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough for the electric connection to spark again, making your heart race. you could feel his gaze on you, but when you looked up at him, he was already looking ahead, as if he hadn't done anything at all.

you both fell into step with the others again, the easy banter resuming, but you couldn't shake the feeling that everything had just shifted—and you weren’t sure whether to lean into it or hold back.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: happy friday guys!! was struggling on how to approach the morning after so i hope this is ok

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[obsessedwithceleste]

You Can Say You Love Me Now

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: A little fake dating trope, just in time for Valentine's day

word count: 3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was the perfect plan really. Or it had seemed like it at the time. When fueled by frustration, love, and desperation, what could go wrong? Theo had loved you for as long as he could remember and he wasn’t afraid to admit that. To himself at least. But to you, well, that was a bit more challenging.

Coming from a pure blood family, a sacred 28 family no less, Theodore’s fate had been sealed long before he was even born. Destined to marry another rich, pure blood heiress, have children, and secure the Nott legacy another generation. All ridiculous nonsense if you asked Theodore. What was the point of tradition anyway? Pretty much everyone who cared was already dead, so what did it matter?

Unfortunately for Theo, his father was not dead and had been trying to find a suitable match for what felt like years at this point. Names of witches that Theo couldn’t even match a face to had been floated by, but Theo had spoiled each and every potential match and his father had been growing increasingly more agitated by the day.

That’s when it had struck him. Kill two birds with one stone. Get his father off his back and gain the perfect opportunity to win over the witch of his dreams. Was it a bit short sighted? Sure. But he wasn’t left with many options at this point and this was as good a plan as any.

“Please principessa, you know what my father’s like. And it would only be a few months.” Theo begged, following close behind you as you make your way through the labyrinth that is the Hogwarts library.

“I am not going to pretend to date you for a few months Theodore. Or at all. That’s actually insane. Besides, no one would believe it anyway. We’ve known each other for how long? No one is going to buy the idea of us just now deciding to go out. Especially not your father. Do you know how long my mother has been trying to set us up?” you sigh, plucking another book off the shelf.

You had known Theodore practically your whole life. The two of you had been best friends since before you could walk. Your earliest memories involved waddling around the gardens of his family’s manor as your mothers watched on in thrilled bliss. There was simply no way the two of you would be fooling anyone.

“Well that’s just it isn’t it? Father has been hounding me to court you for ages, he’ll be too relieved to care,” Theo replies, an air of desperation creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, And what do you suppose we'd tell them hmm?" You ask.

"Don't know. We wanted it to happen naturally or some other sappy story. They'll eat it up."

You give your friend a pointed look. This was not the first time he had presented you with a half-baked plan that was certain to go wrong at some point.

“You’re being so ridiculous right now Theodore, this easily makes it on the list of your top ten stupidest ideas.”

“You keep a list?”

“It’s alphabetized.”

Theo has the nerve to look offended.

“Please principessa? I know your family has been on you too. This will buy us both a little time at least,” Theo protests. "Just think, we tell them over winter break, string it along awhile, and then after we've gone our seperate ways we're just too broken hearted to even consider any other possibilities for the future."

In all fairness, the boy was right. Your family had been bothering you for months now, asking if you’d found a special someone. You'd known when Theodore's father began ramping up the pressure for him to find a match that your family wouldn't be far behind, but it was honestly starting to get to be a bit ridiculous. And exhausting.

"It's not even completely incomprehensible. We've been mistaken as a couple before." Theo continues to press.

You glare at your friend, eyes rolling at the mere memory.

six months prior

It had been another one of your mother's usual, stuffy garden parties. The sun had been beating down on you all morning and all you really wanted to do was throw your blasted shoes across the lawn. Who thought it was a sensible idea to be out on the garden's cobblestone paths in scorching heat for hours at a time? This was not your idea of a good time.

"Principessa," Theodore greeted, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

"Don't even start, Theodore," you grumbled, leaning into the boy. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and if my mother tries to make me join one more conversation about the Ministry or some such I'll set the whole garden on fire."

Theodore just laughed, pulled you closer.

"C'mon love. We can sneak off to the lake I reckon. Berkshire just arrived so the mums will all be too busy throwing him at the Greengrass sisters to notice."

Had you felt a bit bad leaving Enzo to the wolves? Sure. But still, you had let Theodore lead you down the path to the lake, collapsing onto the lawn sofa that was perched almost picturesquely on the patio overlooking the glassy water.

You had closed your eyes, feeling yourself relax into Theodore as his fingers combed methodically through your hair. You didn't know how long the both of you had been sitting there simply basking in each other's company when an excited gasp jolted you from your peaceful bliss.

"Oh! Oh my!" the shrill voice of one of your mother's airheaded socialites tittered. "I wasn't aware the both of you were courting! Oh your parents must be so pleased- what with your families being so close and all-"

"We're not courting." You interjected, holding your hand up to stop the women mid sentence.

She had stuttered awkwardly after that before finally shuffling off. Had you been a bit harsh? Perhaps. But you simply hadn't been in any sort of mood to deal with the notion of dating your best friend.

Theodore hadn't said a word, but you could feel him recoil ever so slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice if it hadn't been you. And things were a bit, strained, for the following days. If you could even call it that. And then things went back to normal as if nothing had happened.

You would have forgotten the whole thing, brushed it under the rug as something to laugh about in a few years, if it hadn't left a nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

You had never even allowed yourself to think that you could ever end up with your friend. Sure, years ago your mothers had shared the fantasy of the both of you ending up together one day. You were sure your mother was still convinced it might happen. But no. He would be auctioned off to the family of some wealthy heiress and you would be matched with some boy your parents deemed suitable. It was just how things worked.

Your feared your father was wearing going to wear through the carpet at any moment with the way he was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Your mother sat twiddling her fingers on the sofa across from you, watching your father in exasperation.

Theodore was quite pleased with himself. To be completely honest he really didn't think he'd get this far. But sitting smugly on the sofa of his father's office, arm wrapped securely around you as he faced not only his own father, but your parents as well, he felt on top of the world.

"Well? Is it true? Are you?" your mother asks, finally breaking the silence as she had apparently given up on your father being the first to speak.

Your father had stormed off to Mr. Nott's office before you could even let out a breath, and by the time you and Theodore had finally slunk into the room, your mother was already doing a piss poor job of hiding her excitement.

It had always been a dream of hers for the both of you to end up together one day. It was hardly a kept secret. Maybe Theodore had been right and their blind excitement would stop them from asking too many questions because this was truly horrific.

"Of course it's true! It better be! The way I found him all over y/n," your father interrupts.

Mr. Nott just gazes on, eyes seemingly boring into your soul as Theodore meets his father's stare with cool, nonchalance. The smug bastard.

"Oh it's all we ever hoped for!" Your mother gushes, eyes falling onto the portrait hanging on the wall of the late Mrs. Nott.

"Well. That settles it then. They'll begin courting. Or whatever it is they call it these days," Mr. Nott says finally. "But there will be no more of this, nonsense. Not under my roof."

a few minutes earlier

"After further reassessment, this is the stupidest idea you've ever had," you hiss. Glaring at the brunette boy in front of you.

You were currently perched on one of the many desks lining the library walls of Nott Manor. Theodore was pressed up against the side, warm hands on your thighs holding you securely in place and sending shivers down your spine.

"Hush amore. How else will they be convinced we've been hiding a relationship, hmm?" He asks, slowly guiding one of your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"Oh I don't know. Suppose we just tell them? Ever think of that?"

"Yeah, and how would that go? Hey mum, I've been secretly seeing the son of your dead best friend who you've been trying to set me up with for ages. This is definitely not a distraction. Please believe us." Theo scoffs.

"I'm being serious," you respond, giving the boy a light whack on the shoulder. "When I agreed to the whole 'pretend to go out' bit, this is not what I had in mind."

"We've kissed before," Theo drawls, all nonchalance.

"You know that's not the same Theodore."

Before Theodore is able to respond, likely with another of his dry quips that you had grown to adore (not that you'd ever admit it), the door of the library swings open, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.

You don't even get the chance to fully take in the reality of the situation before Theodore's lips are on yours. It's slow and soft and warm as you feel his thumb softly brushing circles on your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes you as you melt into the boy.

"What is the meaning of this?" Your father's cutting voice calls out, breaking you from your trance.

You jolt away from Theo, eyes snapping up to meet your father's, face flushed with embarrassment. Theo on the other hand looked quite self-satisfied. Oh you were going to kill him later.

"Both of you. Into the office. Now." Your father snaps out, looking like he was wishing he could obliviate himself in that moment.

"How long are we going to keep this going?" you ask, eyes not quite meeting Theo's as you lean your head against him. It was another warm night in which you and Theodore had managed to sneak up to the astronomy tower.

Your visits to the astronomy tower had started back in fourth year. It seemed like forever ago. And now you looked forward to nothing as much as nights spent with Theodore gazing up at the sky. The nights were different now though, you supposed.

It had been what? Five months now? You were almost certain it was five months, but those months seemed to have flown by in bliss. You hadn't realized how easy it would be. You and Theodore seemed to have been carefully tip toeing the line between friendship and more for years. You simply hadn't put the pieces together. It had been a bit clunky at first sure. Awkward maybe. But this was perfect. Standing in Theodore's arms as the stars above you seemed to go on forever. Perfect.

three-ish months prior

"Shut up. Shut. Up. You're joking," Daphne squeals, eyes locking onto your fingers which are tightly interlocked with Theo's as you enter your dorm room.

Something you seemed to have overlooked when agreeing to Theodore's dating scheme, was the fact that an integral part of the plan involved selling the lie to your closest friends.

It was much more difficult than you had anticipated.

You had spent the first initial month spending all your free time with Theodore, never really leaving his side. Apparently this didn't seem out of the ordinary. The flowers sent to your dorm didn't elicit a single reaction from your roommate, nor did Theodore's constant pet names. No, what really did it apparently, was the hand holding. Scandalous.

Your friends never failed to miss an opportunity to humble you.

"Took them long enough. Don't know why you're so shocked Daph," Mattheo replies dryly from his spot on the floor, papers scattered around him. He doesn’t even bother to look up.

"Well duh. We all knew they'd end up together eventually. Just didn't think they'd figure it out while we were still in school." Daph responds matter of factly. “Ugh. I owe Pansy 25 galleons now.” She groans, a frown appearing on her face.

"We can hear you, you know," Theo drawls, raising an eyebrow.

"Well it isn't as if the two of you have been subtle about it. Always holed up together in the library for hours at a time doing gods knows what."

"We study together," you reply, feeling the need to defend yourself.

"You’ve also attend every single ball together since, ever," Mattheo adds.

"Better that then go with whatever tossers our parents dig up."

"I've found the both of you asleep in Theodore's bed on more than one occasion."

"As friends."

"Right. You'd sleep together as friends, but drew the line at hand holding." Daphne says dryly. "You're both hopeless."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y/n, I damn near saw you hex Theo's hand off in fifth year when he tried to hold your hand, and even that wasn't solid proof that you two weren't already going out." Daphne snorts. "Hopeless."

"C'mon Daph, let's leave the love birds to it then," Mattheo says, gathering his papers. "Make good choices. Don't do anything I'd do," he calls as the two of them make a quick exit.

As soon as the door slams shut, you turn to look at Theo as if to ask 'what on Earth was that about?'

“They make fair points,” he says with a shrug, pulling you onto the bed with him.

"We weren't being obvious about anything Theodore. There was nothing there to begin with." You reply, allowing him to pull you onto his chest.

You knew there hadn't been anything there before, or at least you thought there wasn't, because this was all very new. Sure before you might've fallen asleep in the same bed after staying up until 3 am studying for your charms exam, but you'd certainly never seen Theodore look at you like this before. And you'd certainly never felt his hand creep under your shirt to rub soft circles across your rib cage. You'd definitely never felt your heart try to beat out of your chest like this. Or maybe you had.

"Is it really so absurd to think we've always been so close?" Theo asks, eyes very clearly focused on your lips. Not that you noticed of course.

"Maybe not," you reply, letting your head fall to rest on the boy's chest.

This was nice you thought to yourself as Theo's lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"How long do you want to keep going?" Theo asks after a moment.

"Don't know," you reply, feeling his eyes on you as you continue gazing out at the sky in front of you.

"Another month?" Theo asks carefully, pulling you ever closer.

You can feel your heart begin to race at the idea of it all ending so soon. You shake your head.

"You want to end it sooner?" Theo asks, voice wavering ever so slightly.

You shake your head again. You hear Theodore's sharp breath as he realizes your implication and you feel yourself growing increasingly more nervous as the silence stretches on.

You'd really, truly never allowed yourself to consider the idea of ending up with Theo. You knew that simply wasn't how the world worked. And frankly the idea of rejection couldn't even be a possibility. You couldn't allow yourself to lose your best friend. Or maybe you could. This was all his idea to begin with after all.

"What if we just kept going?" You ask finally, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.

Theo's arms tear away from you as he turns you to face him, hand holding your chin firmly in place, forcing your eyes to meet.

"Don't play with me like this, principessa," he says, voice all seriousness as his eyes scan your face, searching for anything that might suggest you're joking with him.

"I'm not."

And just like that, Theo's lips are on yours once more. They seemed to find themselves there a lot lately, melting your mind to absolute mush as he pulled you closer. You could feel your back, now pressed up against one of the marble pillars of the tower as Theo's lips moved slowly from your lips to your jawline, and carefully down the side of your neck.

"You can say you love me now," He whispers into your ear, his warm breath giving you chills as his hands continue to wander.

"I love you," you gasp out.

"Sorry, who?" he pushes, leaving little pecks across your jawline once more.

"Theo. I love you, Theodore," You say finally, just as Theo presses another kiss to your lips.

"And I love you, amore."

Did I start this well over a year ago? Yes I did, thank you for asking. Did I change the title three different times? Absolutely I did. Am I posting this before editing? Also yes. Cope.

[thoughtscout]

anyway

1) while it definitely happens, you have to remember it's going to be really fucking rare for a woman to only back out of sex upon realizing her partner is trans/male & has a penis, because the majority of people are able to adequately identify sex based on visible physical characteristics. males are not so easily indistinguishable from females as you might like to think, and relying on the hypothetical of one fully successfully passing as female does a disservice to the honesty of the discussion. however, if a woman would have retracted consent to sex upon learning this information, and her male sexual partner did not provide it willingly from the start, this would have been attempted rape by deception. the same way any purposefully withheld information that affects consent is rape by deception.

2) people with penises (males) are responsible for the vast majority of all violent crimes, including murder, abduction, sexual abuse and rape. conclude whether that violence is "inherent" or not on your own time

3) accusing a woman of being "transmisogynistic" for having a fucking trauma response to rape is an absolutely ghoulish move. is having your identity invalidated and being refused sex really more important to you than the fact that womens' trauma is so severe that they frequently develop a severe traumatic aversion to men and penises? (this is a rhetorical question. I already know it is.)

4) trauma responses aside, "lesbian" is a term for a woman who is same-sex attracted. meaning she is only attracted to female people. who have vaginas. if a gay man didn't want to have sex with a woman because she was female + had a vagina that would be perfectly understandable. because he's gay. and is only attracted to males. sexual attraction is not based on the "grossness" or inverse "appeal" of individual people's sexual organs and pretending that it is makes you sound absolutely obtuse and like you have an understanding of homosexuality equivalent to someone who has lived under a rock their entire life and never interacted with a singular gay person ever

5) if a woman is attracted to women but consensually has sex with men who she is also attracted to, that woman is bisexual, not a lesbian. lesbian sex does not involve penises.

furthermore, people have been trying to correctively rape and pressure/force lesbians to have sex with people with penises for the entirety of their historical existence. you may realize, you sound exactly like those people.

6) no one cares that trans women sometimes have non-penetrative sex. so do gay men. so do lesbians. that doesn't mean they have to have sex with a male/someone with a penis. attraction is not defined by specific sexual acts.

7) if you know that your desired woman partner wouldn't have sex with you if they knew you were trans/male/had a penis, but you still pursue her without providing this information to her, then yes. you are trying to trick her into having sex with you, and attempting rape by deception. this is an extremely streamlined logical conclusion for anyone to come to. it's alarming and honestly unnerving that you seem to be struggling with it so much

(also just in case it needs to be said: neovaginas are not vaginas do not make you female and many women with trans partners admit to being repulsed by them. sorry if this hurts your feelings)

non-transfem lesbians are always trying to tell me why it's actually fine for them to have genital preference but for some reason I never hear any of them saying "I would be so grossed out if I had to fuck a vagina"

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 14.9 chapter index — next. chap.

c.w — smut, p in v masterlist

a.n — you did read that right. this has turned into a 15000 word monster... i'm not sure how it happened. ANYWAY. this is very late and i'm so very sorry. gramps went into emergency surgery, i started school and had the worst period cramps of my life but we all good, everything is much better now. i will be updating the other four parts very soon. (hopefully tee hee)

epilogue - part one

sunday, march 2nd

rafe was a heavy sleeper. you never knew that—not until now. he slept like a log, completely undisturbed despite the world moving around him. even with the sun pouring through the windows, turning his hair and eyelashes a shade of gold so soft it looked spun from honey, even with the familiar morning symphony of your family filling the house—your sister's giggles echoing from the yard as she played with your mom, your little brother waddling through the living room, bottle clutched in his tiny hands as he repeatedly bumped his head against rafe’s thigh—he didn’t so much as stir.  

he should consider himself lucky. you, on the other hand, could wake up from the mere sound of a door creaking open down the hall.  

you tried to imagine him in your bed instead of sprawled across your couch, head buried in your pillows, wrapped up in your blanket. would he sleep on the left or the right? hopefully the left, since you slept on the right—closest to the window, where the first light of morning always found you.  

did he dream? or did he have nightmares? did he mumble in his sleep? would you wake up to hear him speaking in slurred, sleepy gibberish, too out of it to make sense?  

did he sleep in sweats? pajamas? a button-up? shirtless? that felt very much like rafe, but you didn’t know. not yet, at least.  

did he linger in bed for thirty minutes before dragging himself up, or was he like you? someone who counted down from five to one and forced temselves up at one.

endless possibilities.

and something inside you whispered that you would find out. maybe not today. maybe not tomorrow. but the day would come, and when it did, you'd cherish it.  

you'd watch him just like you were watching him now, cataloging every detail—the way his lashes rested against his cheek, the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. you’d memorize how his hair fell, how his lips looked impossibly soft, how the little crease between his brows never quite smoothed out, even in sleep. and you'd be allowed. 

you wouldn’t have to stop yourself from reaching out.  

you wouldn’t have to fight the urge to kiss him.  

because he would be yours. completely, irrevocably yours.  

“take a picture, it'll last longer.”  

your sister’s voice snapped you from your thoughts. you barely spared her a glance, still leaning against the archway separating the living room from the dining room, cradling a mug of now-cold tea in your hands.  

“go away,” you murmured, voice quiet but firm.  

she was right, but she could be right somewhere else.  

you'd been staring at him for well over fifteen minutes, still in your pajamas, unable to make yourself move, unable to be anywhere else. you had already called off work because the thought of leaving right now—leaving him—felt unbearable.  

were you one of those girlfriend? the kind who couldn’t stay away, who hovered and obsessed?  

girlfriend felt too soon.  

but then again, rafe had told you he loved you. twelve hours, thirteen minutes, and fifty-four seconds ago, to be exact. 

your dad passed by, replacing your cold mug with a fresh one, steam curling in the air. you thanked him absentmindedly, fingers wrapping around the warmth.  

what kind of boyfriend would rafe be?  

you already knew he was touchy, that he liked kissing, that he had a habit of nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours, of holding eye contact just a little too long when you weren’t paying attention. he liked to watch you, studying you as you tutored him, as you cleaned, as if every little thing you did was worth committing to memory.  

but what about the rest?  

would he bring you flowers? take you to the movies, or more late-night drives along the coast? would he want to sit on the beach with you until the sky turned soft with morning, or would he prefer extravagant dates, something grand and exciting?  

what kind of gifts would he like?  

would he appreciate personalized things—carefully written ‘open when’ letters, little boxes filled with things meant just for him—or was he more materialistic? would he want his favorite cologne, designer watches, the kinds of things that held status?  

or would he prefer something he could do? something he could experience—a trip, an activity, something he could share with you or his friends?  

you’d probably just get him all of it. just to be sure.  

you’d only had one boyfriend before—not that you and rafe were official yet, but still.  

being a girlfriend the first time had been… odd.  

like having a boy who was a friend, and sometimes he kissed you, and it was just… fine.  

but with rafe?  

it felt nothing like that.  

and god, you wanted to do it right.  

maybe there was a research paper somewhere on how to be a good girlfriend.  

not that it mattered. rafe made it easy.  

he made your heart stutter, your stomach twist, your cheeks burn. he made you want to be good to him. to be perfect for him.  

and maybe that was impossible.  

but you would try.

rafe stirred, his arm lifting sluggishly to rub at his eyes, fingers dragging through the remnants of sleep. the motion caught your little brother’s attention immediately, his tiny head snapping up, curiosity flickering across his face at the sudden movement in the room. once he realized rafe was awake, he held out his arms in a way that said 'pick me up before i hurl this bottle at someone.'

"hey, buddy…" rafe rasped, voice thick with sleep as he reached for him, lifting him effortlessly and settling him onto his chest.  

you stayed still, watching in silence, your body at ease yet your heart hammering against your ribs. it was as if you could physically feel it swell, stretching wide with a warmth so intense it made your breath hitch.  

and then, as if he could sense it, his eyes found yours. sleepy, unfocused, but piercing all the same. that disarming gaze of his tugged at something deep within you, pulling you toward him like gravity itself. god, you wanted to go to him. to press yourself against him, burrow into his warmth, tuck your face into the crook of his neck and let the rest of the world fall away.  

"morning."  

his voice was quiet, rough around the edges, heavy with sleep. it was almost ridiculous how the sound of it sent tingles through every nerve in your body, warm and electric, curling low in your stomach.  

"morning."

your own voice was steadier than you felt, but your feet wouldn’t move. he looked so cozy—messy hair, sleepy eyes, the laziest, softest smile pulling at his lips. he was huggable, he was yours, and the ache to touch him, to climb into his space, to sink into his warmth, made your fingers twitch at your sides.  

his head rested against the couch arm, eyes impossibly tender as they traced over you.  

"gonna stay over there?"

he was almost smiling, teasing, but something expectant threaded through the words—something hopeful.  

your little brother wiggled off his chest and padded away, but rafe didn’t look away, didn’t so much as blink. he was watching you now, watching the hesitation in your stance, the way your weight shifted like you were trying to resist something inevitable.  

"i'm enjoying the view."

you grinned, and the corner of his lips twitched, a smirk creeping in slow and lazy.  

"taking in the sights?"

you nodded.  

"like what you see?" his brows lifted slightly, smirk deepening. "hope i’m up to standard."

another nod, another hum of approval.  

and then, softer—almost pleading—  

"c’mere."

your body moved before your mind could catch up. one second, you were standing. the next, you were there, sinking into him, his hands finding your waist as your knees pressed into the cushions.  

the need to touch him was unbearable, searing through your veins, clawing at your ribs.  

and then, finally, it hit you—you can.  

as much as you want. as long as you want.  

because he was yours.  

not some far-off dream.  

not a delusion.  

real.

your hands found his chest first, smoothing over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin through the cotton. slowly, they traveled upward, fingers brushing over his throat, his jaw, until your palms cradled his face, your thumb tracing the high point of his cheekbone.  

rafe turned into your touch, his lips brushing against the heel of your palm.  

"sleep okay?" he murmured, though there was a knowing edge to it, a quiet concern that made your stomach twist.  

because you both knew why he was asking.  

last night, by the time you’d finally come inside, you were wrecked. tear-streaked, hiccuping, clinging to rafe like he was the only thing tethering you to the earth. you hadn’t wanted him to sleep on the couch. you had fought him on it, insisted, pleaded, but somehow—you weren’t even sure how—he had won that fight. maybe it was the exhaustion. maybe it was the way your body had already been shutting down from the sheer weight of the night.  

"me? i'm not the one who slept on the couch."

you narrowed your eyes, fingers still cupping his face, and his lips quirked at your pointed tone.  

"i slept good," he assured you. "hard surfaces are better for your back, you know?"  

you snorted, unconvinced. "got facts now, huh? copying me, cameron?"  

he chuckled, tilting his head against your palm, lashes fluttering briefly as he stretched out with a groan.  

"didn’t you know? i’m coming for your spot."  

your smile widened. "you sure you want that? i go to the library for fun, you know?"  

rafe made a face, and you laughed.  

"still want me?" you teased, only half joking.  

he tilted his head slightly, considering. for half a second.  

then, he kissed you.  

soft. chaste. a barely-there press of lips that still managed to steal the breath from your lungs. and god, you didn’t care that he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet—you’d kiss him like this forever if he let you.  

when he pulled back, his nose nudged yours.  

"the real question is…" his voice was low, careful, like he was treading unsteady ground. "will you still have me?"  

you exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, just soaking him in.  

the past twenty-four hours had been an emotional wreckage. you had him, then you lost him, then you had him again in the span of a few, heart-crushing, life-altering hours.  

it was enough to make your head spin.  

enough to make you terrified that you could lose him just as easily.  

"that's a silly question."

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close, and he melted into you, hands slipping around your waist, tugging you even closer until you could feel his heartbeat against your own.  

"is it?" he murmured, his fingers dragging along the length of your spine, leaving shivers in their wake.  

"it is," you whispered. "m’never letting you go."  

his hold tightened.  

"you promise?"  

the words were barely audible, spoken against your skin, fragile in the way only he could be.  

you squeezed him, felt his heartbeat against your own.  

"cross my heart."

after a surprisingly normal breakfast, rafe had stepped outside to take a phone call. judging by the rare, genuine smile pulling at his lips, you were pretty sure it was sarah. his sister was one of the few people who could make him look like that—unguarded, softened.  

you were elbow-deep in soapy water, stacking dishes into the drying rack, when your mom poked her head into the kitchen. her eyes twinkled with thinly veiled curiosity.  

“so,” she started, dragging out the word as she leaned against the counter.  

you turned, brows lifting. “so?”  

her gaze flicked meaningfully toward the glass doors, where rafe was pacing the length of your backyard, phone in hand. “do you have a boy who is a little more than a friend?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.  

a smirk tugged at your lips. “mm, are you asking if rafe is my boyfriend?”  

“am i asking if the boy who has been sleeping on my couch and practically living in my house for the past two months is your boyfriend now? yes, i just might be.” she deadpanned, eyes shifting between you and the boy outside.  

you smiled to yourself, wiping down a plate. “nope.”  

“no?” your dad’s voice came out of nowhere, making you nearly jump. you turned to see him standing in the doorway, confusion written all over his face.  

your mom echoed his disbelief. “no?”  

you nodded, amused. “not yet.”  

your dad huffed, crossing his arms. “not yet? well, what the hell is his plan? because i’m not about to have some kid walking in and out of this house—”  

before he could finish his sentence, the sliding door creaked open. rafe stepped inside, still distracted by his phone, but when the room fell into a tense silence, his eyes flickered up.  

his brows furrowed. “uh… hey, guys…” his gaze found yours, searching. “am i interrupting or…?”  

you shook your head a little too quickly. “no, no. they were just wondering what time we got home last night.” you turned to your parents, forcing a casual tone. “around ten, i think. you had only just gone to bed.”  

your mom pursed her lips before smiling at rafe. “uh huh. well, hope the couch wasn’t too terrible. it’s not exactly made for sleeping.”  

rafe waved a hand dismissively. “it was fine. i should’ve asked before crashing, it was kind of a last-minute thing.”  

your dad, who moments ago was seconds away from throwing him out, suddenly beamed. “that’s alright, you’re always welcome here, son.”  

you gawked at him, utterly incredulous, but he ignored you.  

your mom grabbed your dad’s arm, tugging him toward the hallway. “well, we should go because…” she shot him a pointed look, silently urging him to come up with an excuse.  

“because…” he faltered, then suddenly snapped his fingers. “we have children! yes, we should check on our other children. the little one’s been, uh… constipated lately—”  

their voices trailed off as they disappeared down the hall, leaving you blinking after them.  

“your parents are funny,” rafe murmured, stepping up behind you. you barely had time to react before he dropped his head atop yours, the warmth of his body settling against your back.  

“they’re weird,” you corrected.  

he chuckled, a quiet, deep sound. “they’re a little weird.”  

his breath was warm against your temple, the closeness of him making your chest feel tight in a way you weren’t sure how to name.  

“want me to help you dry those?” he asked softly.  

you nodded, unable to stop the smile curling at your lips. “here.”  

you handed him a mug, and he slid away just enough to grab a dish towel, falling into step beside you.

"were you on the phone with sarah?” you ask quietly, unable to hide your curiosity.  

rafe nods, still absentmindedly drying the dish in his hands. “yeah, she was asking if i was eating dinner with them tonight. we’re in that phase where my parents act super happy that she’s home—before they start picking fights with her.”  

your brows pull together. “they didn’t know she was coming back?”  

“no, they did. it was only really a surprise for me.”  

your stomach twists a little at that. “sorry it didn’t go exactly as planned,” you murmur, voice laced with quiet regret.  

rafe doesn’t answer right away. instead, he gently takes the cup from your hands, setting it down on the counter before his fingers slip around yours, warm and firm. “i’m the one who should apologize,” he says, voice thick with sincerity. “it happened at my house, with my friends. i invited you. i should’ve—i should’ve been better. if i knew—”  

“you already apologized,” you cut in softly. “a couple of times, actually. and it’s okay. you didn’t know.” you hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i also have fault in this, you know?” you look away for a second before meeting his eyes again. “i was scared. scared to communicate, to let you all the way in, to trust you sometimes. i can say without a doubt that if i’d handled a few things differently, we wouldn’t be where we are.”  

rafe tilts his head side to side, clearly disagreeing. “you don’t have any fault in this.” he tugs you closer, guiding your arms around his neck. “how were you supposed to trust me when you already knew what i was like? maybe not in detail, but the vague image was always there—even before cora said anything. you were protecting yourself. it’s one of the most human responses.”  

your lips part, ready to argue, but he beats you to it. “but,” he exhales, a tiny smirk playing at his lips, “i doubt i’ll win this fight, so let’s just agree to disagree.”  

he kisses you once, then again, softer this time, like the words themselves weren’t enough to settle it. your lips twitch with a smile you can’t control.  

“agree to disagree,” you whisper against his mouth before pressing a few more kisses to his lips, unable to stop yourself.  

he lets out a small chuckle, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, slow and affectionate. you think you could live in this quiet forever.  

“what time are you leaving?” your voice is quiet, already heavy with the weight of missing him before he’s even gone.

“soon,” he murmurs, his breath warm as it brushes against your temple, “but i’m coming back.”

your brows knit together, searching his face, his eyes, the way his lips barely quirk like he knows something you don’t. “you’re coming back?”

he nods, fingers grazing the curve of your jaw like he’s memorizing it. “there’s this girl…”

your smile is instant, soft and knowing. “mm?”

“she’s been running through my mind for so long,” he says, voice dipping lower, threading through your hair, “and i’m crazy about her.”

your grin spreads, helpless against the pull of him. “sounds serious.”

“yeah.” he smirks like he’s got a secret, and god, you love when he looks at you like that. “and i haven’t taken her on a date yet.”

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest in mock scandal. “you haven’t taken her on a date yet?”

he shakes his head, feigning shame. “shameful, right?”

“absolutely. they should lock you up and throw away the key.”

his laughter rumbles between you, deep and warm, and you wish you could steal it, keep it somewhere safe. “damn,” he grins, pulling you closer. “throw away the key and everything?”

you nod solemnly. “except… if you can redeem yourself.”

he hums, amused. “redeem myself?”

you tip your chin up. “mmhm. like telling her where exactly you want to take her.”

his lips hover over yours, his voice a murmur against your mouth. “no can do. state secrets.” he presses a kiss to you, then another, softer between each word. “and we leave at four.”

your head spins. you barely register what he’s saying because all you can think about is the way he tastes, the way his hands tighten on your waist like he’d rather not let you go at all.

then he pulls back just enough to tilt his head, studying you like he’s about to say something important. “you should tell your parents you’re sleeping at hazel’s house,” he says casually, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, “and bring an overnight bag.”

your eyes widen. “an overnight bag?”

his smirk deepens at your reaction. “mmhm.”

“are we staying at your house?” you ask, suspicion creeping in.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “give me a little more credit than that.”

you narrow your eyes but let it slide. “okay… how should i dress if you won’t tell me where we’re going?”

he exhales, like he’s carefully picking his words. “it’s… outside. we’re walking around. not hiking or anything, but walking. like, imagine a museum—but it’s not a museum.”

you blink. “imagine a museum, but it’s not a museum?”

he nods, his grin tilting. “and bring warm clothes to sleep in.”

your stomach flips at that. he must notice because he laughs softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “no, we are not sleeping outside.”

relief floods you. “thank god,” you mumble. “i’d do a lot of things for you, but camping? not one of them.”

rafe grins, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. “camping is actually fun, you know,” he teases, his words muffled in your hair.

you let out a tiny, skeptical laugh. “yeah, the bugs, the grass, the dirt… my dream.”

his chest shakes with laughter, pressing his lips to your forehead. “you’re such a pessimist. they’re not bugs, they’re just little critters. it’s not grass and dirt,” he grins, “it’s nature and fresh air, and it’s good for your soul.”

“no, i’m a realist. and ‘critters’ do not sound better than bugs.”

his laughter softens, something deeper settling in his eyes as he looks at you. his arms tighten, holding you like he’s grounding himself in you, in this moment, in everything you are.

“you’re good for my soul,” you whisper, barely a breath between you. “that’s enough ‘good for the soul’ for me.”

his body relaxes against yours, the air shifting, something warm and certain pressing between your ribs. he leans down, lips brushing the top of your head, his breath stirring your hair.

“think it’s enough for me too, baby.”

you’d read somewhere that the brain falls in love in 0.2 seconds. a fraction of a moment—less than the blink of an eye—and suddenly, chemicals flood your system. dopamine, oxytocin, adrenaline. the same kind of high that leaves people breathless, euphoric, addicted.  

you never really believed it. 0.2 seconds? seriously? your brain had to have more fight in it than that. love seemed more complex, something slow-building, something earned. but now, pressed against rafe’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your cheek, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his arms wrapped securely around you—you realize it wasn’t just true. it lasted a lot longer than that.  

and god, were you in trouble.  

eventually, rafe pulled himself away, murmuring something about needing to shower and change. he promised he’d be back at four, but you were too restless to wait. by two, you were already ready to go.  

you cleaned your room, checked over your schoolwork, called off volunteering, helped your mom downstairs—anything to burn through the extra energy buzzing beneath your skin. and still, there was too much time left.  

with nothing left to do, you were ready to just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling until you got a text from your friends.

“hey!” you greeted, too bright, too excited.  

three pairs of eyes blinked at you through the screen, varying degrees of shock and mild concern staring back.  

“hey… y/n,” hazel started cautiously, brows furrowed. “are you okay?”

only then did you remember—they had no idea what had happened after ivy left.  

by the time you finished telling them everything, their reactions were wildly different.  

hazel, unsurprisingly, remained skeptical. her lips pressed into a thin line as she folded her arms, eyes narrowing in that way that told you she was biting back several very strong opinions. “you need to be careful,” she warned. “i wouldn’t have taken him back on principle.”  

you rolled your eyes, already bracing for a future where hazel inevitably fell in love and her poor, unfortunate partner suffered under her stubborn, unshakable sense of justice.  

devon, on the other hand, was thrilled. she’d always liked rafe the most, but devon liked everyone that could make her laugh. and since she found almost everything funny, her enthusiasm wasn’t exactly a surprise. “this was all adriana and cora’s fault,” she declared confidently. “it only seems complicated because of misunderstandings.”  

honestly, she wasn’t completely wrong.  

ivy was the last to react, but only because she needed everything explained twice. she kept getting lost in the names and timelines, but once she caught up, she leaned back, thoughtful. “i get where hazel’s coming from,” she admitted. “but… i’ve never seen someone look at another person the way rafe looks at you.” she shook her head, like even she couldn’t believe it. “he’s in love with you. and i think you guys deserve a real chance.”  

your chest tightened, an ache so sweet it almost hurt.  

hazel made valid points. you couldn’t deny that things could have been handled better, that rafe had a past, that there were risks.  

but love had to count for something.  

the way he touched you like you were something delicate and precious, the way he kissed you like he’d been starving for you, the way he looked at you—like you were the most important thing in the world.  

you had to see this through. you deserved to try.

by the time the conversation was winding down, your phone buzzed with a message from rafe—here—and before you could even process it, the doorbell rang. the timing made you smile, a giddy, unshakable thing that only grew as you imagined him just downstairs, waiting for you. waiting to kiss you the moment you reached him, to pull you close in the car, to sit beside you, hands brushing, the warmth of him something you could sink into.  

there weren’t enough words to describe what it felt like to be in love with rafe. he was lightning in your veins, a thrill in your pulse, the kind of presence that made your skin hum and your heart stumble over itself. every bit of him exhilarated you—the way he looked at you, the way he laughed, the way just existing near him felt like standing at the edge of something breathtaking.  

“alrighttt,” ivy teased from the tiny rectangle on your laptop screen, dragging out the word with a knowing smirk. “go get your man before you implode.” she waved a hand, shooing you off.  

“i’ll text every hour, okay?” you added, mostly directing it toward hazel, who nodded, lips quirking.  

“have fun!” devon grinned, throwing up a thumbs-up.  

“fun with protection,” hazel added flatly, and your jaw dropped, eyes going wide.  

“hazel!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-scandalized.  

she only shrugged, entirely unbothered, and waved you off as you ended the call.  

you shut your laptop, the nerves settling in properly now, fluttery and insistent. you rushed down the two flights of stairs, your heart thumping louder with each step, and before you even reached the bottom, you could already hear his voice, deep and familiar, threading through the hallway.  

“no, the season’s over,” rafe was saying, his tone easy, patient.  

your mom hummed, and then—ohhh, drawn out like a realization had just dawned on her. “so, it’s like the seasons of the year? like winter, fall—”  

you nearly winced before you heard rafe chuckle, cutting in quickly, “no, no, no.” he sounded amused, not condescending, his usual charm at play. “it’s one season. the season runs from mid-august to mid-november. that’s when we play in the big arenas. the rest of the year is off-season training, then pre-season prep, and sometimes, we have non-official games against other teams.”  

“mm,” your mom nodded, absorbing the information. as you stepped up behind her, she turned, startled for a second before her face softened. “oh! i was just talking to rafe about his soccer schedule—it’s quite intensive, actually.” her expression shifted to that motherly concern she always wore when she thought you were stretching yourself too thin.  

you bit back a grin, already knowing what was coming.  

“it’s like what i tell y/n, you know?” she said, turning back to rafe, who raised his brows, clearly entertained. “always with her head buried in those books. i keep telling her, anything with ‘too much’ or ‘too little’ in front of it is bad. too much studying, and her little head might break.” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “i worry—”  

“okay, mhm, i know, mom. i know,” you interjected, nodding quickly as you looped an arm through hers, gently steering her toward the living room before she could launch into another full speech.  

rafe, for his part, was valiantly holding back a laugh, his lips twitching as he watched you usher your mom away. you shot him a look, but the fondness in his eyes made your stomach flip.

“your mom complaining because you study too much? that’s unheard of.” rafe teases the moment you step back into the foyer, an embarrassed smile tugging at your lips.

“my mom is unheard of,” you correct, but the words barely register as you take him in. he looked good. he always did, but tonight—tonight he looked unfairly good. black cargos, a deep green sweater snug against his frame, the edge of a white shirt peeking out beneath it. his hair, effortlessly tousled in that way that made him look like he had just rolled out of bed—but you knew better. he did that on purpose.

before you can say anything else, he hooks a finger into the hem of your shirt, tugging you forward. you don’t resist, smiling as the space between you vanishes.

“hi,” you murmur, tilting your chin up as his hand cups your face, thumb brushing featherlight over your cheek.

“hey,” he breathes back, leaning in—so close you can almost taste the mint on his breath. but just as his lips are about to touch yours, he stills.

his voice drops to a whisper. “your sister is staring at us.”

your eyes snap open in horror. mortified. and annoyed.

sure enough, when you turn your head, there she is, standing in the hallway like a tiny executioner, arms crossed, smirk sharp.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you mock, throwing her own words from this morning back at her.

without a beat of hesitation, she pulls out the little flip phone your dad gave her.

“oh my god! don’t actually take the picture!” you gasp, exasperated. behind you, rafe’s quiet chuckle vibrates through your back.

she doesn’t even acknowledge you, just huffs, arms crossing tighter. “dad!” she calls out, voice ringing through the house. “y/n won’t let me take a picture of her and rafe kissing!” she storms off.

you squeeze your eyes shut, dying inside, but rafe only laughs again. the sound is warm, reassuring—just like the way his arms slip around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“you look pretty,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your shoulder, lingering. “and you smell good.” his mouth trails higher, ghosting over your neck, his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

your fingers tighten in his sweater as you exhale, tilting your head just enough to capture his lips in a soft, fleeting kiss. “thank you.” your voice is quieter now, just for him.

you pull back slightly, hands drifting to his shoulders as you study him again. “hmm…” your grin curves slow, playful. “you look nice, but i still can’t tell where we’re going from this outfit.”

he smirks, leaning down for another kiss, this one deeper, slower. when he pulls back, his voice is lower. “that’s kind of the point with surprises.”

you laugh softly as he grabs the duffel bag from your hands.

“we should get going.”

you nod, stepping away. “yeah, i just need to say bye to my parents. i’ll be right out.” you’re already turning when he murmurs his agreement, stepping out the front door.

inside, you find your parents in the living room. your mom is braiding your sister’s hair, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

“hey, i’m heading out. i’ll see you guys tomorrow after school?”

your mom glances up, eyes sweeping over you like she’s checking for something. “you don’t have a thicker sweater? it’s quite cold.”

“it isn’t that cold, she’ll be alright,” your dad interjects, offering you a thumbs-up. “just text us when you get to hazel’s, alright?”

you nod quickly, then turn back to your mom. “i’ll take my good coat, and worst case, i’ll ask rafe for a sweater.” you offer her a reassuring smile.

she studies you for a beat longer, then softens, giving you a warm nod. “okay. have fun.”

you turn on your heel, snatching your coat from the wall hook in one fluid motion before stepping outside. the crisp air rushes to greet you, cool against your flushed cheeks, curling around your skin like a whisper of excitement. the door clicks shut behind you, sealing away the warmth of inside, but you don’t mind—not when rafe is here, waiting.

he leans against his car, fingers idly playing with his keys, the metal glinting under the dim glow of the streetlights. he’s distracted, his head tilted down, but the second you step out, he pauses. his eyes find yours instantly, scanning your face, his lips parting just slightly. “all good?” his voice is gentle, edged with something soft, something careful.

you nod, unable to contain the giddy energy bubbling inside you. your feet carry you to him quickly, almost skipping, like a child running toward something they’ve been waiting all day for. “all good, good, good.” you beam up at him, stretching onto your toes to press a quick, eager kiss to his lips.

his chuckle is quiet, warm, but his arms instinctively settle around your waist, keeping you close. “you’re happy,” he observes, amusement laced in his voice.

your grin widens as you nod. “i’ve got every reason to be.” the words are as much for him as they are a reminder to yourself.

his nose brushes against yours, the smallest touch, but it sends a shiver down your spine. “i love seeing you smile,” he whispers, like it’s a secret meant only for you.

and because it’s him, because it’s always him, you smile even more. “i love you.”

his forehead rests against yours, his eyes locking onto yours like they hold the whole world inside them. “i love you too, baby.”

the drive to your destination is both too slow and far too fast, stretching time and collapsing it all at once. you want to savor every second, but you also ache to get there, wherever there is.

every car ride with rafe is something special. even the short ones, when he’d drop you off at the retirement home, where you’d linger in his car long after he had already parked, just talking, stretching the moment, neither of you wanting to leave, not ready to say goodbye. but the long ones? those were the best. time felt slower then, like the world outside the car didn’t matter, like all that existed was the steady hum of the engine, the soft music threading through the speakers, and the effortless conversation between you.

talking with rafe was easy. being with him was easy. you were always full of things to say, stories to tell, and he was always ready to listen, to laugh, to add his own thoughts like your words were puzzle pieces he was eager to fit together. the soft melody playing in the background only made it all feel more domestic, more right, like something you could do forever.

“remember when we were at the beach, and you said you should have more fun?” he asks suddenly, breaking the quiet hum of conversation.

you nod, thinking back to that day, the way you had sighed and confessed it like it was a secret. “yeah. this is something fun?”

he grins, nodding. “it is.”

your mind spins with possibilities. “is it…” you pause dramatically, narrowing your eyes at him, “roller skating?”

his laugh is easy, shaking his head. “you already guessed that one.” he tilts his head toward the windshield. “we’re almost there, though.”

your gaze follows his, and in the distance, bright lights glow against the night sky, unmistakable and familiar. your heart stutters.

“the fair!” you nearly scream, your excitement bubbling over into your voice. you turn to him, wide-eyed. “oh my god, i haven’t been back in years. i never—”

“find the time?” he finishes smoothly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

you nod, eyes shining. “thank you, thank you!” the words spill out as you grab his face, pressing frantic kisses all over his cheeks, his nose, anywhere you can reach. he just laughs, letting you, his hands resting on your waist.

“this is gonna be so fun.” you bounce slightly in your seat, your gaze snapping back to the road, watching as the fair grows closer, the colors sharpening, the lights glittering. anticipation buzzes under your skin. “i hope you’re ready to spend the next fifteen hours here, because i am not leaving until we’ve played every game. oh! we have to go on the ferris wheel.” you turn back to him, eyes pleading. “and we have to do the duck fishing game! a lot of people find it kinda boring, but i always loved it as a kid. you get fun prizes!" you ramble, the memories flooding back, making you smile at the thought of it all.

"anddd!" you continue, as rafe parks the car and unbuckles your seatbelt for you, "we can do the can knockdown and the basketball shootout! though i’m not very good at that..." you tilt your head, biting your lip.

"basketball shootout? that’s my game," rafe says, his tone teasing yet reassuring. "don’t worry, i'll show you how to score." a grin spreads across your face, and you can’t help but lean in, kissing him again, your lips lingering against his, sharing a moment of warmth.

when you step out of the car, rafe briefly checks his parking, but you're too eager to wait. you tug gently at his hand, your excitement bubbling over. "okayyy! let’s go!" you urge, practically bouncing on your toes.

"okay, someone’s excited," rafe murmurs with a smile, pulling you close, his arm sliding around your shoulder as you both start walking toward the fair, the lights ahead like a dream come to life.

the fair was alive with energy, a constant hum of voices blending with the sounds of laughter and music. the air was thick with the scent of cotton candy and popcorn, and you could feel the vibrant pulse of excitement as people swarmed the grounds. scattered among the crowd were a few familiar faces from school, most of them nodding or waving at rafe from a distance, though there were one or two who actually stopped to chat with him for a moment.

you dove into the carnival games, clearly more excited than anything else. your enthusiasm was contagious as you breezed through everything, from the ring toss and pick-a-duck to the basketball shootout, can knockdown, and the bb gun shooting booth. you even tried your hand at the hammer strength test and the wheel of fortune. each game offered a prize, and by the time you were done, you had racked up so many stuffed animals that rafe had to make a quick trip to his car to stash a couple in the backseat. you kept only the one he won for you, clutching it close as if it were a prized possession.

"i’ve got a perfect name for him," you grinned when rafe returned, slipping his hand into yours. you hugged the bear tight to your chest.

"yeah?" he asked, a curious glint in his eyes.

"rafe jr!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with mischief.

rafe paused, turning to look at you with a playful smile. "he’s your son. isn’t he adorable?" you ask him.

"i think he’s our son," rafe said, his tone teasing but warm.

you hummed thoughtfully, "yeah, from nine a.m. to ten p.m., he can be our son. but at night, he’s all yours. i need my eight hours of sleep," you joked, and rafe gave you a mock disapproving look.

"unbelievable," he muttered, feigning indignation as he took the bear from you. "give me my son. you don’t even deserve him," he laughed, shaking his head as you giggled.

"let’s do the mirror palace," rafe said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the next attraction.

"oh, no," you groaned, a playful whine creeping into your voice. "i suck at mazes. do you know how many bruises i've gotten because of this place?" you complained as he led you into the line. he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

"you were probably between six and ten years old the last time you were here," he teased, his lips brushing your shoulder. "but don't worry, we’ll stick together. i’ll make sure we get out without any bruises."

you couldn’t help but smile at his reassurance, finding comfort in his presence. "okay," you agreed, your voice soft. "can we do the ferris wheel too?" you whispered, hopeful.

he gave you a tender smile and nodded. "we’ll do the ferris wheel, baby," he whispered back, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. you smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of his affection, and he kissed you again, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away.

the line for the maze isn’t long, and rafe makes the wait feel like nothing at all. "hey, two tickets, please," he says, voice low but casual as he pulls his wallet out, handing over a stack of bills. the cashier, with a soft smile, takes them, passing back two tickets with practiced ease. "here you go," she says, her tone polite but robotic, "no running and no backtracking. have fun." the words sound like a rehearsed mantra, something she'd said to every other person before.

"no backtracking?" you ask, your voice tinged with nerves as rafe laces his fingers through yours, pulling you toward the entrance. "what if we get lost? what if we—"

"baby, we won't get lost," he laughs, that deep, confident sound that always manages to settle your racing thoughts. he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, the warmth of his lips grounding you. "this is a game for little kids. we’ll make it, no problem." you can’t help but smile, knowing he’s probably right. you nod, taking another step forward into the maze, the twisted corridors pulling you further in.

the maze is oddly quiet, aside from the occasional echo of laughter or giggling in the distance. the floors beneath your feet are dotted with glowing lights that form shifting patterns, while above, the ceiling is impossibly high—so high that you can't quite make out its end, thanks to the mirrored surface reflecting everything around you. it all feels like a strange dream, the kind where you’re falling endlessly but never quite hit the ground.

"god, this is so weird," you mutter, as rafe gently tugs you back just in time to avoid you running into yet another mirror. "i swear, we’ve been down this hallway already." you stop in your tracks, scanning your surroundings. rafe continues walking, but his hand, still clutching yours, halts him after a few steps.

"we haven’t been down this hallway yet," he says, looking over his shoulder at you. "i’d know." his tone is teasing, but you can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

"all the hallways look the same," you protest, "how would you know?"

"i’m a pro at this," he grins, tugging you closer. "you just don’t believe me." his hands settle on your waist, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt. "or trust me," he murmurs, lips barely grazing your ear as he pulls you even closer.

"i’m too young to die, and i can’t die in a maze, rafe," you whine softly, your voice barely audible. he chuckles, the sound warm against your skin.

"don’t be whiny," he teases, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you can even respond. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

"i’m not whiny…" you protest, though the words are muffled as his breath fans across your lips. your eyes flutter closed, and you exhale softly, the warmth of his presence overwhelming in the best way.

"really?" rafe’s voice is low and teasing as his lips brush against yours, barely making contact. "because you sound pretty whiny to me." his hands slide up your back, sending a chill through your spine as his lips trace the curve of your jaw. he pulls you flush against him, his body pressing into yours with a teasing urgency.

"rafe…" you sigh, words getting caught in your throat. you want to beg him to kiss you, to press you up against one of these endless mirrors and kiss you until you're breathless, but somehow, the words won’t come. instead, you lean into him, your lips chasing his in desperate need.

"yeah, pretty girl?" rafe’s voice is rough, husky, and it makes your knees feel weak. your heart races in your chest as you try to form a coherent thought, but all you can focus on is him. his presence. the heat between you. your lips are barely a breath away, and you lean in, chasing him as your fingers tangle in his hair.

he pulls away just enough for you to feel the loss, his lips brushing against your skin. "tell me," he insists, his voice barely a whisper, but it carries an urgency that makes your breath catch. he kisses everywhere but your lips, trailing soft, teasing touches along your jaw and neck. his nose skims your skin, the sensation making your body shiver.

"want you to kiss me…" you manage to murmur, almost begging, your hands tightening in his hair. rafe hums, the sound vibrating through your chest.

"wasn't too hard now, was it?" he whispers, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing mockery of what you’ve been yearning for. and before you can respond, his lips crash against yours. it’s frantic, hungry, as if he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you. you’re pushed up against the mirror, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body.

his hands find their way to your waist, pressing you harder against him as his tongue slips into your mouth, coaxing a soft gasp from you. the kiss deepens, and it’s no longer just a kiss—it’s consuming, overwhelming, a blur of heat and touch. the world fades away, and all you can think about is rafe. his lips. his hands. him.

the kiss drags on, relentless, until you’re both left gasping for air. rafe pulls back slightly, brushing his lips against yours with a soft smile. "don’t think that’s ever gonna get old," he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied. he takes your hand, tugging you along deeper into the maze.

eventually, though, he does get you both out. you’d almost lost hope twice, ready to scream for help, but somehow, you made it out together.

with his hand nestled in yours, fingers laced together like a quiet promise, you wandered through the fair, the golden glow of string lights casting soft halos over the crowd. laughter and the distant chime of game bells filled the air as you played a few more rounds, the scent of caramel and fried dough clinging to the night. finally, you reached the ferris wheel, its towering silhouette outlined against the deep blue sky.  

"line's a little long," rafe noted, eyes flicking toward the slow-moving queue stretching toward the ticket booth. he exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. "i'm gonna head to the food stand and grab us something small while we wait. that okay?"  

you nodded quickly. "okay."  

he leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against your lips before you could say anything else. you caught his sleeve as he pulled away, adding, "can you also get me some water?"  

"mm, be right back," he murmured, squeezing your fingers before slipping into the crowd.  

left alone, you took the moment to respond to a few messages, the ferris wheel’s bright lights reflecting in your screen. the line inched forward, and just as you pocketed your phone, rafe reappeared, pressing a warm pretzel wrapped in a napkin into your hands.  

"here," he said, and you quickly took a bite, the buttery salt melting on your tongue.  

"you didn't get anything?" you asked, noticing he only held your bottle of water and a can of coke.  

"not hungry enough for anything right now," he shrugged, tucking his arm around your shoulder as the line moved forward again. without a second thought, you held up your pretzel to his lips.  

he grinned and took a bite, murmuring a muffled, "thanks," as he chewed. you smiled and leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  

at the register, rafe pulled out his wallet, handing over cash for two tickets. standing closer to the wheel now, he tilted his head up, studying it. "jesus," he muttered under his breath. "when you're this close, it’s really high..."  

you grinned, nudging him. "got a little fear of heights you forgot to mention?"  

he rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "no fear of heights," he countered, feigning nonchalance. "just didn’t think it’d be this tall."  

when the attendant swung open the little cabin door, rafe let you step in first before sliding in beside you. the seat was softer than expected, and as the wheel began its slow ascent, he draped an arm around you, settling comfortably.  

"you can see the whole island from the top," you mused, eyes sparkling as you glanced at him.  

rafe smirked. "yeah?"  

"mm-hmm," you hummed, then added mischievously, "and don’t worry—it goes reallll slow."  

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "i’m not scared of heights," he insisted.  

"uh huh." you shrugged, taking another bite of your pretzel.  

the cabin continued its gentle climb, and a small window near the side caught your attention. curiosity got the best of you, and before rafe could react, you popped your head out for a better view. the wind brushed against your face, cool and sweet, but before you could even take it all in, rafe's hand was gripping your waist, tugging you back in with a firm urgency.  

"okay, that's enough," he muttered, brows drawn together, his jaw tight.  

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up as he shot you a glare that wasn’t nearly as serious as he wanted it to be.  

if he wasn’t so tense, you might’ve asked to go again. but seeing the way his shoulders stiffened, the way his grip on you lingered even after the moment had passed, you decided against it. you’d spare him—for now.

ooh! a photobooth!" you yell out, excitement bubbling over as you grab rafe’s hand and pull him toward the big red box in the distance. the glossy surface gleams under the carnival lights, and you practically bounce on your feet as you take in the example pictures displayed on the side. “look at this! i think it’s new…” your fingers trail over the smooth panel, eyes scanning the details. before you can even turn to ask rafe if he wants to take some, he’s already ducking inside, reaching back to tug you onto his lap with effortless ease.  

“let’s see…” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin as he scrolls through the options on the screen. you pull the small curtain shut, enclosing the two of you in the intimate space, the air thick with anticipation. “black and white or color?” rafe asks, his chin resting on your shoulder, voice low and unhurried. you tilt your head in thought before deciding, “uhh… black and white.” the choice feels right, timeless. you fish out a couple of coins from your pocket, sliding them into the slot with a soft clink. 

“okay, ready?” rafe asks, his blue eyes flickering with amusement as he watches you. you nod, grinning. but then a thought crosses your mind, and you blurt out, “wait, how many does it take?”  

“four, i think,” rafe replies just as the first flash goes off. instinctively, you stick your tongue out, only realizing after that your hair is a mess. laughter spills from your lips as you quickly try to smooth it down, but rafe is faster—his fingers weave through the strands, gently fixing it as the countdown begins again.  

“oh, god, the countdown is so fast!” you squeal, both of you scrambling to pose, but it’s useless—you end up just laughing at each other, faces flushed with amusement.  

“that one is cute. look at your smile,” rafe grins, tilting his head to study the preview. your cheeks warm at his words, a touch of shyness creeping in. rafe notices, his own smile softening before he leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek just as the third picture snaps.  

the final countdown begins, and rafe’s fingers—gentle yet firm—grasp your chin, turning your face toward him. “last one,” he murmurs, a teasing glint in his eyes. you don’t hesitate. instead, you wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him in, lips meeting his in a kiss just as the last flash goes off.  

when you pull away, rafe chases your lips for a second, stealing another soft kiss before finally letting you slide off his lap. you push the curtain open, stepping out into the cool night air, the distant hum of carnival rides and laughter filling the space around you.  

seconds later, the photo strip slides out from the machine. you grab it eagerly, holding it up. “they came out so cute! look!” you beam, showing rafe as he steps beside you.  

his gaze flickers over the strip, a small smile tugging at his lips. “they did. the black and white looks good,” he agrees, his fingers effortlessly intertwining with yours as you both start walking again, your eyes still fixed on the little captured moments.  

they were perfect.

"i had so much fun, thank you for bringing me here," you say, glancing at rafe as the two of you walk through the parking lot, the cool night air settling over your skin. the distant hum of traffic, the flickering neon signs, the soft scuff of your shoes against the pavement—it all feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from.  

"i’m happy you liked it," rafe replies, his voice carrying a certain secrecy that immediately piques your curiosity. "but the date’s not over yet."  

you blink at him, lips curling into a smile. "it’s not?"  

he shakes his head, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "nope. one more surprise. now get in." he nudges you playfully, holding the passenger door open like the perfect gentleman he pretends not to be.  

your heart flutters as you slide inside, excitement buzzing through you despite the dull ache creeping into your feet. the night is stretching on, dark and velvety, but instead of feeling tired, you feel alive, giddy with the thought that the evening isn’t over yet.  

"can i try to guess this one?" you ask the moment you buckle in, eyes gleaming with anticipation.  

rafe chuckles, shaking his head as he starts the car. "you know, it wouldn’t kill you to let it be a surprise. ever heard of ‘curiosity killed the cat’?"  

"and what brought it back?" you counter smoothly, neatly tucking the photobooth pictures into your bag. "the truth."  

he scoffs, tapping his fingers against the wheel. "even if i gave you hints, you’d still be terrible at guessing."  

your mouth drops open in exaggerated offense. "no! your hints just suck!"  

"oh, my hints suck?" he laughs, shooting you a knowing look. "i literally said you might walk away with some prizes, and you thought i was taking you to a casino."  

you roll your eyes but can’t fight the smile stretching across your face. "it was a solid guess! a casino is a place where you can win things!"  

"try thinking about why i asked you to bring warm pajamas."  

you pause, tilting your head as you study him. he’s taking you somewhere cold, that much is obvious—but where? and why?  

the rest of the ride is spent grilling rafe, who remains infuriatingly tight-lipped, dodging every one of your guesses with a smug grin. the city lights blur past in streaks of gold and red, and eventually, the car rolls to a stop near the docks.  

you step out, scanning your surroundings. the air is thick with the scent of salt and freshly grilled seafood, the restaurants nearby buzzing with laughter and clinking glasses. but none of this explains why he told you to bring warm pajamas.  

he takes your hand and leads you past the restaurants, past the shops, past everything—until you’re stepping through a smaller, tucked-away entrance that spills out onto the docks, where at least fifty boats are lined up in neat rows.  

"are we getting on a boat?" you ask, glancing at him in surprise.  

he still doesn’t answer. just pulls you along, his grip firm but gentle.  

"rafe, i—"  

the words catch in your throat.  

because suddenly, you see it.  

a boat, different from all the others, its edges wrapped in warm golden lights that twinkle against the dark water. flower petals are scattered along the deck like something out of a dream. a table is set for two, draped in crisp white linen, with two gleaming cloches covering the plates beneath. and above it all, the sky is painted in breathtaking shades of pink and lavender, the last remnants of the sunset bleeding into the horizon.  

you don’t move. you don’t breathe.  

rafe steps onto the boat first, setting the bags down before turning back to you, his expression softer now, almost nervous. he holds out a hand. "c’mon."  

your fingers tremble as they slip into his.  

"rafe," you whisper, voice barely above the lapping of the waves, already feeling the sting of tears gathering behind your eyes.

rafe reaches behind you, fingers brushing against the back of the chair as he grabs something—then, turning back to you, he reveals a bouquet of flowers.  

"before you say anything, i just need to do this," he murmurs, voice quieter now, as he hands them to you.  

your hands tighten around the bouquet instinctively, but you barely register the softness of the petals, too caught up in the way his eyes flicker, how his throat bobs as he swallows.  

"there's a note inside," he continues, rubbing the back of his neck as if he's trying to steady himself. "i wasn’t sure if i’d be able to say what i needed to say, so i wrote it down. but now that you’re standing right in front of me..." he hesitates, glancing down at the bouquet, then back at you. "i think i want to read it to you."  

your breath catches.  

he reaches into the bouquet, pulling out a small, neatly folded note, his fingers careful as he smooths it open. the sun is dipping lower, casting everything in gold and amber, and for a moment, you just watch him. the glow of the fading light makes his features impossibly soft, the strands of his tousled hair illuminated like something out of a dream.  

his eyes scan the paper, then flicker up to you. he exhales sharply.  

"god," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head slightly.  

your brows pull together. "you don’t have to—"  

"no, no," he interrupts quickly, waving a hand. "it’s not that. it’s just... you—" he exhales again, almost frustrated with himself. "you look really good right now. i can’t think straight."  

your heart stumbles over itself.  

heat spreads across your cheeks, and you bite back a grin, stepping closer to him. "you’re awful."  

"i’m awful?" he scoffs, tilting his head at you, a smile curling at the edges of his lips. "you’re the one over there, completely wrecking my concentration."  

his voice is soft, teasing, and the way he’s looking at you—like there’s no one else in the world—makes your chest ache. without thinking, you rise onto your toes, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss.  

he kisses you back, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. but as soon as your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, he pulls away with a pointed look.  

"see?" he murmurs, shaking his head in mock exasperation.  

you throw your head back in laughter. "okay, okay! i’m sorry! you have my undivided, uninterrupting attention."  

his lips twitch into a smirk before he clears his throat, bringing his attention back to the note in his hands.  

his voice is steady as he begins to read.  

"last semester, our science teacher told us that romantic love activates the same brain regions as drug addiction—especially the dopamine reward system."  

he glances up at you briefly, the corner of his mouth lifting like he already knows how silly he sounds. but he keeps going.  

"at the time, i didn’t think much of it. honestly, i probably forgot about it five minutes later. but a week after our first tutoring session, that random fact came rushing back. because by then, i wasn’t just falling for you—i was being consumed by you. every little thing you did, every quirk, every expression. the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something so intricate i could barely follow. the way you smiled. the way you blinked, even."  

he pauses, his jaw clenching for a second before he continues.  

"i couldn’t understand why i couldn’t stop thinking about you—why you had settled so deeply into my mind, in my bones, under my skin. and then, suddenly, i did. that fact from last semester snapped back into place."  

his voice is quieter now, more careful, like every word is something he needs you to hear.  

"you’re the first thought in my mind when i wake up and the last thing i think of before i fall asleep. you are my favorite part of every day."  

you feel your breath hitch, your hands tightening around the bouquet.  

"i will always feel sorry for anyone who never gets the chance to know you the way i do—to be wrapped in your kindness, to hear your laughter over and over, to know what your lips feel like, to be loved by you."  

his gaze flickers up to yours, a quiet intensity in his eyes.  

"you are extraordinary, and i know you’re going to go places neither of us can even dream of."  

he hesitates, his fingers gripping the edges of the paper slightly, like the words are heavier now.  

"if you’ll let me, i’d be honored to stand by your side for as long as you’ll have me."  

a beat of silence.  

"will you be my girlfriend?"  

you don’t realize you’re crying until you’re frantically wiping at your face, nodding—nodding so hard it almost makes you dizzy.  

"yeah?" rafe breathes, a laugh slipping from his lips as he pulls you in.  

"yes!" you cry, grinning through the tears. "are you serious?"  

his hands cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as he shakes his head with a soft smile. "you can’t cry on our first date," he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.  

"you can’t make me cry on our first date," you sniffle, voice barely above a whisper.  

"touché," he murmurs.  

and then his lips find yours.  

the kiss is slow, unhurried—like he has all the time in the world. like he wants to take his time. his fingers slide into your hair, holding you close, and when you press against him, you don’t know if you want to smile or cry all over again.  

but you do know one thing.  

there is nowhere else you’d rather be.

rafe pulls away, his lips barely ghosting over yours as he exhales, his nose brushing against your skin like he’s memorizing the feel of you. “let’s sit, yeah?” his voice is low, gentle, and you nod, but not before pressing the softest kiss against his lips. he smiles against your mouth, then steps back, pulling out your chair with an effortless sort of grace. you settle into the seat, placing your flowers carefully beside you, the delicate petals brushing against your arm.  

your arms tighten around yourself as you take in the scene before you—an intimate table set under the open sky, flickering candlelight casting golden hues across the linen, the sound of the waves lapping gently against the boat. it’s beautiful, breathtaking, and it knocks the air right out of your lungs. your throat tightens as tears well up, your voice trembling despite your best effort to steady it. “how did you plan this all in one day?”  

rafe’s brows knit together like the question itself is absurd, and he reaches across the table, his hand warm as it closes over yours. “one day?” he echoes, shaking his head, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. “baby, i’ve been planning this for two weeks. three if you count the seven days straight i begged my dad for the boat.” he says it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world to spend weeks making something perfect just for you.  

your breath stutters as you swipe at your damp cheeks with the back of your hand, overwhelmed. “t-this is…” the words get caught in your throat, and rafe watches you, his face soft with affection but laced with the slightest bit of concern.  

“baby.” he moves before you can blink, dropping to his knees beside your chair, his hands resting on your thighs as he looks up at you, all blue eyes and steady presence. “if i knew this would make you cry this much, i would’ve just taken you to mcdonald’s.” his lips twitch into a teasing grin, and the laugh that bubbles out of you is watery but real. you lean forward until your forehead touches his, exhaling shakily.  

“no, n-no, it’s perfect… i j-just…” you try to gather yourself, grounding yourself in the way his hands hold you like you’re something precious, something he never wants to let go of. you breathe deeply, eyes flickering between his. “i think i’ve been telling myself for so long that i didn’t want this—the romance, the grand gestures, all of it. convinced myself i didn’t need it, because it’s easier to not be disappointed by something when you’ve made yourself believe you never even wanted it in the first place. but now…” you swallow hard, your fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt. “this whole date, this entire day… it’s been incredible. and i can’t believe i let myself miss out on you for almost two decades.”  

rafe’s gaze flickers with something unreadable, something deep. he cups your face, tilting it ever so slightly. “i’m here now,” he murmurs, the words like a vow. “and i’m not going anywhere for at least another couple of decades.”  

he pulls you into his arms before you can respond, guiding you against his chest, his chin resting atop your head. his fingers thread into your hair, grounding, soothing. “i’m sorry i’m such a mess,” you mumble into the warmth of his skin.  

“you’re my mess,” he murmurs, lips pressing softly against your temple.

it takes five tissues and a few deep breaths before you’re composed enough to properly sit down and eat. you lift the cloche, and immediately, the rich steam curls into the cool evening air. the scent hits you next—warm, savory, mouthwatering, like something fresh out of a five-star kitchen. your eyes sweep over the dish, taking in the careful presentation, the attention to detail. “this looks delicious…” your voice is tinged with awe as you glance up at him, suspicious. “who made this?” a part of you half-expects a chef to step out from behind the mast.  

rafe leans back in his chair, smirking. “i did.”  

you arch a brow. “no, you didn’t. you were with me all day.”  

his grin deepens as he watches your skepticism unfold. “where do you think i went after i left your house this morning?”  

you narrow your eyes, still not convinced. and he just laughs, shaking his head like he can’t believe you’d doubt him.

"i should probably explain how i planned all of this," he says, voice smooth, almost sheepish, like he's letting you in on some grand secret. you nod, twirling your fork into the soft, buttery pasta on your plate, waiting for him to continue.

"this boat is my family's, but really, it's my dad's. no one touches it without his permission, and he’s very… very particular about it." rafe exhales a small laugh, shaking his head as if recalling some past scolding. "but i wanted to do dinner here. thought it’d be more fun, more private. so i asked him—begged him, really—promised i wouldn't break anything, or at least, i'd try not to." his lips curve into a smirk before he leans in slightly, his voice dropping as if this is the part that matters most. "and finally, when i told him i really wanted to impress you… he said yes." he watches your face, gauging your reaction. "i think he likes you, which is a first."

your heart lightens, the weight of uncertainty easing just a little. his father likes you? you hadn’t been sure.

"really? he seemed a little…" you hesitate, searching for the right word.

"frigid?" rafe supplies, already nodding like he knew that’s what you were going to say. "yeah, he’s cold. has a hard time showing affection, all that shit. but he’s a good dad. we have our ups and downs, but he loves us, wants the best for us—most of the time." there's something almost distant in the way he says it, like he's repeating a fact rather than feeling it, but you don't press.

he exhales, shaking off the moment. "anyway, the plan was always dinner. but then, after i picked you up from the elderly home two weeks ago, we went to the beach, and you said you wanted to start having more fun." he glances at you, eyes twinkling under the warm glow of the string lights. "so i started thinking—what’s fun? i mean, dinner’s great, dinner and a movie is great, especially with you, but i wanted something more. i thought about a roller rink, ice skating, maybe an aquarium or the zoo. but the fair just felt… right. versatile, fun, a little chaotic."

you smile, warmth settling in your chest. all of those options would have been perfect, because they'd be with him.

"initially, everything that happened yesterday wouldn’t have happened," rafe admits, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his features. you nod, a little sad at the reminder.

"the plan was simple. you’d stay over at mine, we’d be lazy, stay in bed till noon. my parents and wheeze were coming back at two, so i figured i’d leave you with her for a couple hours. topper’s dad owns the yacht club right by the dock, so topper set it up so we could use their kitchen. i was gonna cook, come back, pick you up, take you to the fair, and text topper when we were close so he could go back, heat up the food, plate it here, and leave." rafe shakes his head, smiling at how much effort it had taken. "same plan, really, except we were at your house instead of mine. i cooked, picked you up, took you to the fair, texted topper fifteen minutes ago, he came, reheated everything, plated it, and left."

you stare at him, stunned. "jesus… that’s…" you start, grinning as you shake your head in disbelief.

rafe laughs, running a hand through his hair before picking up his fork. "yeah. and i hope you like it, because this is literally the only meal i can make."

you chew, smiling against your bite. "you know, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of time if you just ordered the food."

he shrugs, like the thought had never even crossed his mind. "i wanted to cook for you."

your heart stutters, just a little. "well, it’s really good," you admit, nudging his foot lightly under the table. "even if it’s the only meal you can make."

he grins. "better than nothing."

it took nearly two hours to finish eating, though neither of you minded. conversation flowed so easily, conversation leading to laughter, to teasing, to the occasional soft gaze that lingered just a little too long. the food sat half-forgotten between you, growing cold while you got lost in each other. the whole evening made you forget—truly forget—every dark cloud that had loomed over you in the past months. none of it mattered here. none of it existed. all that was real was this moment, the warmth of rafe's presence, the way he looked at you like nothing else in the world held his attention.  

after the last bite, rafe took the wheel, guiding the boat a little further out into the open water. not too far—just enough so the shore looked like something out of a dream, the golden glow of restaurant lights stretching across the waves, bars and shops humming with distant life. you curled up together on the bow, your head rising and falling with his steady breath, his arms wrapped securely around you. the throw blanket, already there like it had been waiting for this moment, draped over both of you. when you tilt your head up, you find his eyes already on you, like he had been watching you all along.  

"thank you for this," you whisper, voice barely louder than the gentle slosh of water against the boat. "this has been the most fun night." your eyes glisten in the soft light, emotions swelling in a way that makes your heart ache in the best way.  

"you don’t need to thank me," he murmurs, brushing his lips over yours, a fleeting, teasing touch. "i did it with pleasure. you’re my favorite person to be around, baby."  

your smile is small, but it holds so much, and you find his lips again, kissing him once, then again, and again, unable to stop yourself. "still gonna thank you," you breathe, nuzzling into him. "i would've been happy with just a mcdonald’s date, but you went the extra… extra mile. you didn’t have to do that."  

rafe scoffs, his face twisting in a way that tells you he hates the mere thought. "you’re too good for a mcdonald’s date," he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. his lips trail down your jaw, slow and deliberate. "you’ve gotta know your worth…" the words are a murmur against your skin, his mouth lingering along your jawline, up to your ear. his teeth catch your earlobe gently, the softest bite, and your fingers dig into his bicep instinctively.  

"please…" the word leaves you in a breath, but the way it sounds—soft, needy—makes rafe tense for a beat.  

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. you’re so close your noses brush, sharing the same air. he’s asking you something without speaking, his gaze searching yours. you nod, slow and certain, and then his lips are on yours, the kiss stealing the breath from your lungs as he eases you down onto the soft cushions beneath you.  

the kiss is dizzying, has your mind floating, thoughts scattering like grains of sand in the wind. rafe kisses you like he’s been starving for it, like tasting you is the only thing that makes sense. his hands are impossibly warm, feverish against your skin, and soon he’s caging you beneath him, pressing closer, deeper. his lips leave yours only to travel down your neck, and your breath stutters, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.  

"rafe…" his name is barely a whisper, a plea, as your hands tug at the fabric of his shirt. you need him closer.  

he doesn’t make you wait. his shirt is off in a second, discarded somewhere in the dark, and his hands skim the hem of your top, fingers toying with the fabric before he pauses. his gaze finds yours again, softer this time. "you’re sure?" he asks, voice quiet, careful.  

you nod, your hands sliding into his hair as you pull him in, kissing him slowly, deeply. "i’m sure," you murmur against his lips.  

he pulls your top over your head, tosses it aside like nothing else matters but this. his mouth is on your skin immediately, mapping you out with slow, careful devotion, like he has all the time in the world. he kisses down your neck, lingers there, like he wants to memorize the way you shudder beneath him. his lips trail lower, between your breasts, his tongue and teeth leaving red marks behind—deep, burning reminders that you’ll feel long after the night is over.

"god, you're so fucking beautiful," rafe groans as he unhooks your bra with a precision that should be concerning—but the thought barely forms before his mouth is on you, his lips wrapping around your nipple, and suddenly, you can’t think at all.

your breath catches in your throat, a soft, shuddering gasp spilling from your lips as heat shoots straight through you. your fingers tangle in his hair, instinct taking over as you pull him closer, urging him on. "oh… oh—" the sound escapes you in a breathless whimper, pleasure twisting sharp and sweet through your body. your free hand fists the throw blanket beside you, lips parting as your head tips back into the pillow. the sensation is overwhelming, toeing the line between pleasure and something almost too intense, too much—but you don’t want him to stop.

rafe switches between your nipples, sucking and teasing until they’re left swollen, aching, but before you can even process the sensation, he’s moving lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. the warmth of his breath sends a shiver through you, but your mind stays hazy, pliant, following wherever he leads.  

two firm taps against your thigh. "up," he murmurs, and without thinking, you obey, lifting your hips like it’s second nature. he strips you bare in one swift motion, your skirt and underwear slipping down and away before you can so much as blink. the cool air kisses your exposed skin, but the heat of rafe’s mouth follows a moment later, his lips dragging slow, purposeful kisses from your lower stomach downward, inching closer, closer—  

your breath catches. he pauses. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, something dark and unreadable swimming in his eyes. "tell me you want it."  

at first, the words sound like nothing more than a demand, thick with lust. but when you really look at him—when you see the way he holds himself there, waiting—you realize he’s asking for more than just permission. he’s asking for certainty.  

"i want it," you whisper, the plea slipping out without hesitation, breathy and soft. "please…"  

something shifts in his expression, something unreadable yet electric, and then he’s gone—no, not gone—he’s there, right there, between your legs, his mouth stealing the very breath from your lungs.

the moment rafe’s tongue drags through your folds, pleasure slams into you so hard your mind blanks. your hands fly to your mouth, muffling the moan that tries to rip free, but it does nothing to quiet the way your body trembles beneath him. his grip tightens on your thigh, firm and unyielding, holding you in place as his tongue plunges deeper, tasting you, savoring you like a starving man.

everything else fades—thoughts, time, reality—until the only thing left is sensation. his mouth. his tongue. the slow, torturous way he builds you up, pushing you higher, higher, until you’re on the verge of tears.

"rafe… rafee…!" his name tumbles from your lips in a soft, breathless cry, your hips rolling helplessly against his mouth, desperate for more, for anything, for everything. your back arches, fingers tangling in his hair, clutching tight like you don’t know whether to pull him closer or push him away.  

he doesn’t stop. not as your body trembles, not as pleasure coils tighter, hotter, unbearable. not as tears burn the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it. he keeps going, tongue lapping and lacking along your sweet cunt, dragging you to the very edge of bliss until you’re trembling, right there, ready to break—  

and then he pulls away.  

"no… no, no—" the whimper leaves you before you can stop it, pure desperation twisting in your chest as your hands fumble down between your thighs, chasing the release he so cruelly denied. but before you can touch yourself, rafe tsks, catching your wrists with ease.  

"uh-uh," he murmurs, his voice thick with something dark and dangerous. still gripping your wrists, he rises to his knees, unbuckling his pants with deliberate slowness. the hunger in his eyes makes your breath stutter.

his bulge alone leaves little to the imagination, but when he finally pushes his pants down, your lips part slightly, breath hitching as you take him in.

you'd seen him before—felt him before, had his cock in your mouth, remembered how he'd stuffed your mouth, memorized the way he stretched your throat—but somehow, the reality of it fitting inside you hadn’t fully processed until now.  

your pulse quickens. there’s no way. no way in hell—  

but rafe is already leaning down, tilting your chin so your gaze locks with his and only his. his eyes are molten in the dim light, steady and unshakable as he brushes his lips over yours, a whisper of warmth. "trust me, yeah?" his voice is low, rough, but so, so gentle. "just gotta trust me… i’ll make you feel good, i promise." it's hard not to believe him.

your stomach flips, nerves twisting with something softer, something deeper. slowly, you nod, and rafe rewards you with a lingering kiss—soft, patient, meant to soothe.

as his lips trail down your jaw, your arms instinctively loop around his neck, pulling him closer. he keeps you distracted, kissing you deeply, pulling you under his spell as his hands guide your thighs apart.  

your breath stutters when you feel him there—thick and hot, his tip gliding through your slick folds, teasing, testing. your body tenses. "r-rafe…" you stammer, voice unsteady, eyes flying open to meet his.  

he’s already watching you.  

"you’re okay," he murmurs, pressing a reassuring kiss against your lips, his thumb stroking your hip. "you’re alright."  

then he’s pushing in, forcing your cunt to expand and take all of him and your eyes fill with tears.

your walls stretches around him, foreign and overwhelming, a gasp breaking free as you clutch at his hair, fingers curling tight. the stretch is slow, unrelenting, inch by inch as he sinks deeper, forcing you to take him, molding you to fit him.  

"breathe," he urges, his voice firm but soothing, and only then do you realize you’ve been holding your breath. you exhale shakily, thighs trembling around his hips.  

"fuck," rafe rasps, his forehead nearly touching yours, breath warm against your lips as he sinks into you, slow but deep, stretching you, filling you completely. the moment he starts to move, sliding in and out of your slick, trembling heat, a shudder wracks through you, pleasure blooming so intensely it steals the breath from your lungs.  

your nails dig into his shoulders, your body clinging to his instinctively, overwhelmed by the sheer depth of sensation. "oh god—rafe, god—" his name spills from your lips in a broken sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, not from pain, not from anything but the unbearable bliss of having him like this, of being his.  

you wrap your leg around his waist, and his body answers before his mind does, his hips rolling forward, pushing deeper, pressing impossibly close. a guttural groan rips from his throat, his hands gripping your hips like he never wants to let go. "fuck, baby," he groans, voice thick and ragged, "you feel so fucking good…"  

he thrusts into you again, and again, and again, each movement more intense than the last, like he’s trying to carve himself into you, like he wants to ruin you for anyone else, as if you weren’t already his.

rafe’s fingers dig into your hips, gripping so tight you think you’ll wear his bruises for days, a mark of this moment, of him. his thrusts are relentless, slamming into you, pushing you higher, higher, until the pleasure is so consuming it’s nearly unbearable. the ocean roars around you, but it’s nothing compared to the symphony of moans and breathless cries spilling from your lips, to the desperate slap of skin against skin as he takes you apart piece by piece.  

he looks wrecked—utterly, beautifully ruined—his jaw clenched, eyes dark and hazy, drowning in lust, in you. "fucking christ," he grits out, voice wrecked, nearly a growl, his head tipping back as your walls flutter around him, gripping him like you never want to let him go.  

you can’t think, can’t form a single coherent thought beyond the white-hot pleasure slamming into your every nerve. he fucks you senseless, over and over, hitting that devastating spot inside you again and again until you’re sobbing, whimpering, utterly wrecked beneath him.  

"rafe… m’gonna— i can’t— n-need—" you babble, voice breaking, tears slipping down your cheeks as the pleasure coils tighter, unbearable, uncontrollable.  

"hold it," he pants, forehead brushing against yours, his own restraint fraying, his body trembling with the effort. you want to obey, want to listen, but you can’t—god, you can’t. "please… please!" your voice is nearly unrecognizable, high and desperate, trembling as he shifts, lifting your thigh higher, forcing himself even deeper.  

"just a little longer, babygirl," he rasps, mouth trailing over your parted lips, kissing you like he’s savoring your surrender. but you can’t kiss him back—you can’t do anything but take it, take him, take every last ounce of pleasure he gives you.  

"i c-can’t… can’t—!" your body is wrecked, overstimulated, pushed past the point of reason as he pounds into your already trembling, sore cunt.  

"that’s it," he groans, voice tight, desperate. "so fucking good, baby… doing so good for me." his rhythm falters, thrusts growing sloppy, more frantic, his control unraveling as he chases his own high.  

"cum, baby."  

his words crash over you like a tidal wave, and before you can even process it, you’re breaking—shattering—pleasure detonating through you so violently your vision goes white. your entire body trembles, clenches, your mind floating into oblivion as you come harder than you ever have, tears slipping from your lashes, lips parting in a silent scream.  

your heart is racing, hammering so wildly you think it might just burst right out of your chest.

rafe eases out of you carefully, and you wince at the overwhelming sensitivity, your body thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. his hands are on you instantly, soothing, tracing gentle circles along your waist as he watches you with quiet concern. "you good?" he murmurs, voice low, intimate, like it’s just the two of you in the whole world.  

even as exhaustion settles deep in your bones, as every muscle in your body hums with the ache of what you’ve just done, you nod. "that was…" you trail off, searching for the right words.

rafe’s lips twitch, but he stays quiet, waiting, his blue eyes filled with something unreadable. then, playfully, he tilts his head. "good..? bad..? overwhelming..? underwhelming..?" he teases, voice soft, coaxing, and that boyish grin—the one that always gets you—spreads across his face. even like this, damp skin glowing under the moonlight, hair a wild mess, he looks devastatingly beautiful.  

you smile, stretching out the anticipation before answering. "really, really, really…" you pause just to see him raise a brow at you. "good. like, seriously, mind-numbingly good."  

rafe chuckles, the sound warm and low, and he leans in to press the gentlest kiss to your lips. "yeah," he whispers against your mouth. "you did give me that impression."  

you laugh, giving his chest a weak shove, and he just grins, sinking down beside you with a deep, satisfied sigh. his arm curls around your waist, and instinctively, you tuck yourself against him, head resting over his heart, listening to its steady, soothing beat.  

a few beats of silence pass before he breaks it, voice amused. "you know there’s a bedroom down there, right?"  

your head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "rafe. are you serious?" disbelief laces your voice as you gesture to the makeshift bed and the throw blanket tangled around your legs. "we had sex here when there was a perfectly comfortable bed waiting right below us?"  

he’s already laughing, pulling the blanket higher over your shoulders as he tugs you even closer. "but now you can say you’ve had sex under the stars," he offers with a smirk, like it’s the best selling point in the world.  

you roll your eyes, but your lips betray you, curling into a smile as you settle against him again. "yeah, that’s really something i’m gonna go brag about," you say dryly, and rafe chuckles, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.  

your heart swells, impossibly full, and when you lift your head, his lips graze yours, the touch so light it’s barely there. then, in the quiet, in the peace of the night, he whispers, "i love you…"  

you kiss his nose, his cheek, then his lips, slow and tender. "i love you too."

a.n —  they finally did it. YAY. i hope this was up to everyone's standards. more coming soon. leave a comment cause i rlly love to chit chat with y'all!

chapter index — next. chap

taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa @fveapplestall @chalametlover444 @slutglimreqpers @uarmyhopeworldwide @junxe3 @bakuhoethotski @wintercrows @magicalflowerstranger @kinderwh0r3 @bigjuli444 @singlethreadofivy @stylestarkey @squirreljoe

let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[lila-went-missing]

Hiii, saw you wanted some requests for Sevika and I've had this idea bubbling up for a while. Imagine Vika with a reader that's normally experienced, yk has fucked one or two people before and it's not a sex god, and they're growing insecure about sevika never starting intimacy even after months of dating, so they think it's because they're not as good as the girl's she's been with before. Idk just thought that'd be good

I'm kind of obsessed with this, ngl. This isn't the first smut that I've written but it is the first smut that I've posted on here so feedback is always appreciated. Y'all will never guess... it's not proofread. Again. Enjoy my lovelies! X

Warnings: Smut (obviously), mild angst but nothing too horrible, mentions of body image issues but readers body type isn't specified or described.

Fem reader, of course, with female genitalia.

At first, you didn't think anything of it. She probably just wanted to take things slow with you. You weren't as experienced as her so she probably wanted to take her time.

That made sense for a while.

But now, after eight months together, you haven't had sex once. More importantly, she hasn't initiated it.

Realistically, you know that it's fine. There's plenty of reasons as to why nothing has happened so far. But that voice in the back of your head is doing a fantastic job of convincing you otherwise.

Sevika was kind of a sex symbol before you two got together.

She'd been with countless women, she was a regular at Babbettes. Her name was uttered on the streets like a sacred prayer.

You, on the other hand, have only been with two people: your ex, and a drunken one night stand that was less than satisfactory. So you did have sexual experience, but not nearly as much as her.

Honestly, it's starting to worry you.

Did she not like you? Was she not physically attracted to you? Was there something wrong with your body? Were you not showing enough skin?

Thoughts plagued your mind night and day. You were stuck in constant turmoil. It was impossible to stop your own brain once it got going.

It was taking everything in you to focus on the stove and not burn dinner.

You flinch at the sound of the door closing. Heavy footsteps sound through the house, approaching the kitchen.

Sevikas thick arms wrap around your midsection, her face making home in the side of your neck. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. The only sounds come from the meat sizzling in your pan. Moments like this make it easier to not think about the painful lack of aw sex life between you two.

Her lips purse, pressing small kisses against your skin. She hums against your neck.

"What are you cooking doll?" Her voice is muffled against your flesh but you understand her all the same.

"Spaghetti." You feel her smile.

"My favorite.." She mumbles. You hum a small "Mhm" before focusing back on the seasoned beef and water you're waiting for to boil. Her arms tighten ever so slightly, one hand slipping under your shirt. Her thumb caresses your bare skin.

It should be sweet but it really just drives the nail into the coffin for you.

Your voice comes out before you can stop it.

"Why won't you have sex with me?" You regret it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"I- woah, what? Doll what do you mean?" She honestly sounds baffled.

"Forget I said anything, please. It doesn't matter."

Her hands gently grab your shoulders, turning you around.

"No way. What are you talking about?"

You shake your head. "It's stupid.."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you." She reassures you.

"It's just, we've been together for eight months, and we practically live together. But we haven't done anything. I know you don't have an issue having sex because half the undercity talks about how good you are and I just don't understand. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not appealing to yo-" Your rant is cut off by her lips. Her hands are holding you like glass, one on your cheek, one curled around your hip.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Her voice comes out as a soft whisper. "I'm sorry I made you feel like there was. I just knew that you don't have as much experience as I do. I didn't want you to feel rushed, or forced."

"Rushed? No, you could never.. I thought you just didn't want me that way." She immediately shakes her head. She kisses you again, more urgently this time.

Her hands grab anywhere they can, pulling you in. They're on your hips, waist, groping your ass.

"I do want you." Then they're picking you up and lifting you on the counter. "Let me show you how much I want you?" All you can do is nod as her lips trail down your neck. Her touch dances over your body, removing your top.

Her mouth follows soon after, sucking dark bruises into the skin on your neck and chest. She takes a nipple in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. A low whimper leaves your mouth at the new, but not unpleasant, sensation.

Her right hand copies her tongue's motions on the other, pinching and pulling. Your body trembles against the counter with need.

She moves away from your breasts, kissing and licking down your stomach to your navel. Her hands unbutton your pants. She looks up at you as she lowers herself to her knees, silently asking for permission. You nod your head. You don't trust your voice. Your pants are off in seconds and thrown somewhere in the kitchen that you'll worry about later.

Her hand splays across your stomach and gently pushes you to lay against the tile. It's cold against your bare and burning skin, your back arching off of it but she keeps your hips pinned down.

You gasp as her teeth nip at the skin of your thigh. A breathy laugh leaves her.

"Shut up.." You mutter.

"Didn't say anything."

Your eyes roll in fake annoyance but you don't get the chance to reply as the cold air hits your bare cunt. Her thumbs pull your lips apart, admiring the sight before her.

"Fuck doll, you're so wet. All of this for me?" Her voice is husky between your legs and it stirs something delicious in your belly.

"Yes, all for you Sev.." She chuckles. Her teeth take the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs. She kisses your hips and navel, sucking hickies and marking you as hers.

"Please, Vika. Need you.." You whine. You can't bring yourself to care about how desperate you sound. You're sure that you look even more so from her position.

It seems, though, that your prayers have been answered because as soon as the words leave your mouth hers is back on you. This time it's between your legs.

She licks a long stripe up your pussy before stopping to suck your clit into her mouth. A loud moan reverberates from your chest as you lean your head back into the counter. Her tongue kitten licks at the bud before suckling on it like shes trying to nurse herself.

You've had people eat you out before but never this well. You don't think it could get better than this.

She moves down, opting to fuck you with her tongue instead. You definitely understand the appeal now. You've given yourself plenty of orgasms but this is the fastest one has risen before.

She feels it in the way you clench around her tongue and moves back to your clit. Her fingers fill up the now empty space, fucking into you in a gently but rough way only she could manage.

She's eating you like a woman starved and with the lack of sex the two of you have had she may as well be. If you didn't know better you might think this is her last meal.

Gasps and whimpers leave your mouth in a desperate way you can't stop.

"Fuck Sev.. ngh~ m'gonna cum, please.."

She smirks against you once more, speeding up her ministrations.

"Come on my tongue baby, make a mess on me." Her voice is muffled against you cunt, vibrations travel through your clit with her words.

You last maybe thirty seconds longer, hand tangled in her hair, before releasing over her tongue.

She laps you up, milking you for all that you're worth. She's never tasted anything more delicious. Her mouth doesn't let up until your whimpering from the overstimulation and pushing her head away.

She looks you in the eye as she sucks her fingers clean before kissing back up your body. Her lips lock onto yours and you can still taste yourself on her tongue. It makes your head spin in a way you've never felt before.

When you come back to earth, her hand is running through your hair.

"I'm sorry I made you believe that I didn't want to do that." She mumbles. "But now I may need it to be a daily thing." You giggle at her words.

"It's okay. I wouldn't mind honestly." She helps you sit up, a large hand cupping your cheek. "You didn't get to cum.." You whisper as you lean in closer.

"Don't worry about me, I'll get my fill later." The look on her face tells you that this isn't over. "I'm going to change out of these clothes. You just worry about dinner okay?" She slips your panties back on along with your shirt.

You nod, sliding off the counter. You wince at the mess you made but she's already wiping it up. Her lips meet your temple as she mutters a low, "I love you."

"I love you more." She shakes her head, chuckling before walking back to her room. You feel much better now, and you really can't wait for what she meant by "later".

[bonesxbows]

Unforgettable (Alastor X Reader)

My Masterlist

Everyone at the hotel seems to be overlooking you, talking over you, acting as if you're not really there. Though it's not on purpose, you know they don't really mean to be ignoring you, it still hurts. Everyone except Alastor. He's the first to notice when you start to shut down and slink away. 

(WARNINGS)

Autism spectrum reader

Selective mutism behaviors

Negative self talk (slight depression/overthinking)

Mentions of addiction 

I’m having the most wonderful time in college so far! (insert upside down smiley face here) Anyway this is based on something that happened recently so it’s 100% entirely self indulgent, I’m relying on writing for comfort right now and ya’ll are along for the ride so enjoy! Also I’m sorta undiagnosed on the spectrum so this isn’t entirely accurate but it is based off of my own experiences, if any of it comes off as offensive to anyone just let me know and I’ll be more than willing to change it. Comments and likes are highly appreciated, I feel like my writing has been in a slump lately so PLEASE let me know if this is any good

Banners by @strangergraphics

You were in your room, laying on your bed with your eyes closed, hands neatly folded on your stomach, and fingers mindlessly fidgeting with themselves. Wordless jazz drifted through the air, broadcasted through an old radio; a gift from Alastor. One that you cherished, the soft noise always doing wonders to soothe your restless mind. You often wondered if that was part of his intention when he had given it to you, if he had known about your condition even back then.

There was a knock at your door, but the visitor didn’t wait for you to answer before opening it. The radio magically shut off on its own once it sensed an intruder. You peeked open an eye, seeing a blurb of blonde hair poke into your doorframe. 

“Heya! We’re meeting down in the lobby for another group exercise, it’d be super if you could join us!” Charlie told you, her attitude as bubbly as ever. She didn’t wait for you to reply before skipping off down the hallway, leaving your door open in expectation for you to follow her. You sighed, getting up and doing just that, not really having much of a choice if you were still going to stay here.

Everyone had already beaten you down there, all congregating together and conversing. Though from your standpoint it sounded more like arguing. You grimaced from the noise but carried on, trudging forward to join the crowd. Alastor sensed your presence almost immediately, whipping his head in your direction once you were close. His smile grew tenfold at the sight of you. He patted the empty space of the couch next to him, silently beckoning you over. You relaxed just a little, Alastor’s presence easing some of the tension this social gathering had brought upon you. As soon as you sat down next to him he snaked his hand around your hips, pulling you closer into his side and resting his claws on your thigh.

The conversion around the two of you continued, though it was getting harder to keep up with what was going on. 

“This is Hell, toots! Ain’t exactly a walk in the park to jus’ cut it off cold!” Angel was standing in front of Charlie, all four arms raised in defense. 

“I get that, Angel, but we can’t exactly allow this sort of behavior forever. I’m open to ideas. Suggestions? Is there a way to ease out of this sort of thing?” She rebutted. You figured they were talking about someone’s addiction, possibly Angel’s himself’s, or maybe Husk’s. Either way, you wanted to help, they were both your friends. 

“Charlie, I-” 

“Ease out? Are you kiddin’ me? Do you know how addictin’ they make this stuff? It’s on purpose, baby! Once you’re hooked it’s for life!” 

But Angel beat you to it. Your words just weren’t fast enough. But you didn’t give up, maybe they just hadn’t heard you?

“That’s true, but-”

“There’s got to be something out there, some kind of cure. Right? Maybe we just haven’t found it yet. Come on, don’t give up hope just yet!” 

Charlie interrupted you this time. She flashed Angel a hopeful smile, but ironically she had just knocked all wind out of your sails. You deflated, defeated, and crumbled in your seat. Any hope that they would listen to you fizzled behind your eyes. You curled into yourself, watching them as they continued their little argument, embarrassment and frustration clouding your mind. You wanted to help, had information that could help, but it was like you were invisible. 

Invisible to all, except Alastor. Who took extreme note of the way your face fell when you kept getting talked over. Who noticed how your always pleasant smile vanished and never came back. And how you tried to practically disappear into the side of his coat. 

Irritation pulled at the corners of his smile, making his eyes twitch. 

When the conversation was more or less over, tempers cooled enough that everyone was at peace again, you were quick to excuse yourself, getting up and fleeing before anyone, especially Alastor, could stop you. You ran, head hung low, not even looking where you were going, just hoping your feet would instinctively carry you back to the safety of your room. Your brain was fuddled, one thought led to another, which led to another, which snowballed into a self-loathing mess. So much of a mess you almost face-planted into the wood of your door. Luckily you stopped in time, huffing a sigh and kicking yourself for not paying attention, before you pushed the door open and walked inside, slamming the door behind you. You threw yourself onto your bed, not caring what went flying where, just caring enough that your embarrassed face could be covered by enough fluff and plushness to not be seen by anyone. 

That is until your radio tuned back to life again, nearly making you just out of your skin at the sudden noise. It flickered through static but eventually evened out to the jazz that had been playing earlier. The peaceful music made your heart ache. You felt stupid. 

Oh, Alastor…your Alastor. You loved how safe and comforting he made you feel, but he deserved better than to put up with your weird antics and moods. 

“Darling? Are you alright?”

As if the radio tuning had been a prelude to his arrival, he had shadow-stepped into your room not three seconds later. You sprang up at the sound of his voice, turning around to see him standing near your desk, leaning against his elbow propped up on top of your radio. You opened your mouth to reply, but yet nothing came out, the words becoming stuck like thick cotton in your throat. So you simply shook your head instead, your gaze falling down to your lap. Your heart hammered in your ears. 

Stupid. You were being stupid. Overreacting. As usual. Just talk to him. 

You didn’t notice him walking over towards you until he was near, sitting down next to you on your bed, resting his cane against a nearby wall. He placed a claw underneath your chin, guiding your face upwards to look at him. He used his thumb to gently tug at the corner of your lips, pushing it upwards into a lopsided smile. One that didn’t stay, your face falling as soon as he removed his finger. 

He sighed at the sight. Though he wasn’t upset, not with you. His smile was compassionate, caring. A rare one he only ever showed you, but worry creased his brow. “You didn’t deserve that treatment, you know. I’d kill them if I could.” 

At that, he earned a small, fleeting, smile. His bloodthirstiness was endearing at times. 

“Ah, there's my darling. Can you use your words, ma chérie?” 

You shook your head again. Your vocal chords failing you, seizing up in your throat. This selective mutism of yours wasn’t new. 

“That’s alright. How about we go up to the studio, hm? Just me and you. I’ll even let you pick out a few records to play on air. How’s that sounding?” He tilted his head towards you, smile glinting with persuasion. 

You nodded eagerly, the thought of being in a safe space alone with Alastor already easing your mind. 

He stood up enthusiastically off your bed and held out a hand for you to do the same. “Wonderful. Shall we be off then? Best get to it while the record player’s still hot!”

(Song: It Had To Be You by Isham Jones)

You were sitting cross-legged on Alastor’s desk, flipping through his collection of records, while he continued on with his broadcast. “Duke Ellington”, “Fats Waller”, “Ethel Waters”, and “Isham Jones” all shuffled through your fingers, names that you had come to recognize over the countless times you had spent up here with Alastor. You handed him the last one your fingertips touched. His grin grew at your selection as he shut off his microphone. 

“A fine choice, dear, a fine choice indeed!” He pulled the black disc out of its sleeve, slotting it into the machine and dropping the needle down onto one of its grooves. The sound of upbeat trumpets and an accompanying jazz band filled the broadcasting studio, the same song playing to any and all tuned in to Alastor’s radio station. He began to hum along, pushing his chair back and hopping up, gently pulling you off of the desk with little warning. You clutched onto him as he grabbed you, your feet dangled mid-air for a moment before you found your footing, earning a chuckle from Alastor as you kicked at nothing. 

But eventually, you found purchase on the ground again, and when you did he began to glide you along, guiding you in circles around the room, one hand in yours and the other firmly around your waist. You kept your free hand on his chest, trying to keep your feet up with his. He didn’t take you dancing often, but when he did you were always reminded of just what time period he originated from. He was a natural, humming along to the tune floating through the air as he graced across the floor himself, leading you with him as he went. When he flicked his wrist and spun you in place you felt something inside of you loosen, easing up after the earlier events of the day. 

“Alastor?” You called out his name. There was a flash of surprise across his face at first, no doubt he had become accustomed to the silence, but it quickly gave way to fondness. He pulled you closer to his chest, slowing down his movements around the room. 

“Yes, ma chérie?” Static purred in the back of his throat. 

“Thank you, for…for all of this.”

He hummed in response, placing a gentle and quick kiss on the tip of your nose. “Anything for you, my doe.”

[lemonlinelights]

@dialup-dragon YES HI HELLO!!!!!!!! The can has been opened I hope you like worms XD

The diva's name is The Question aka Vic Sage My Beloved. He's my favorite superhero like EVER in DC and Marvel I love him so much. I can say like SO MANY THINGS ABOUT HIM!!! Idk where to start UHHH the other person in the art is Huntress aka Helena Bertinelli she's a badass character with a lot of cool stories of her own. Cause it's ya know ✨comics✨ it depends on what you're reading/watching but they're sometimes lovers and I love them together so much.

The Question is from DC comics and he's from Hub Cap City which like a lot of cities in DC comics is corrupted and full of crime.

Vic DOES have a face! He just has a special mask that makes it look like he doesn't. The mask is weirdly very important in the start of his alter ego. He uses a gas to take the mask on and off and it also changes his hair color in the process. His skill set is martial arts and his detective skills. but later on he sort of starts to be able to communicate with cities? And also understand coincidences, comic book logic lol.

Uhh I'm trying to keep this short without going into an essay XD

For awhile his main struggle was seeing things strictly in black and white, until he's basically beaten to death by Lady Shiva which starts his entire journey into morals and learning that not everything is what it seems (I've a post that explains this a lot better hopefully I can find it) A LOT of other stuff also happens, many tragedies and character growth as is the life of a comic book superhero. Skipping all his dramatic adventures Vic eventually dies from lung cancer, and his successor is someone who he's been training-

Renee Montoya! She is AWESOME! I don't know her as well yet but she's amazing as The Question I love her. While Vic is alive their dynamic together is SO fun and Renee on her own is also neat. Again comics so the story changes a bit but shes a former cop struggling with alcoholism and her girlfriend leaving her when Vic enters her life giving her something to work for again. Renee usually has a relationship with Kate Kane (Batwoman) and I love it just wkhxenhdben💕

So yes there's two Questions, sometimes at the same time! Vic Sage has some appearances  in Justice League Unlimited that a fun watch. He and Huntress are together in it <3

They're my beloveds I love them a lot. I think it's mainly their personalities that draw me in a lot of the time. They're entertaining :-) ✨Divas✨

Uhhh also at some point when the universe got rebooted (this is usually done once the comics get too complicated even for the creators) they tried giving The Question a fresh coat of paint by making him a cursed guy who will be able to solve other people's Questions but never answer the biggest one, his own identity. Also this version doesn't actually HAVE a face he legit has no face. The version also has some superpowers? It didn't last long though and I think they've just been ignoring it. So uh yeah we ignore that one.

A whole bunch of JLU Question doodles

Shout out to these comments that changed how I saw certain scenes + Jeffrey Combs' entire performance (his voice is so goodd)

Adding another compulsive nerd to my "favourite compulsive nerd characters" collection

[starpoweredv1b]

have you ever thought of muscular MC

Like... Something about claymore wielding airheaded MC does things to me.

I'm sure it'd scratch something in the LL's brains too. Maybe Zayne's mommy issue having ass would dream of just being choked to literal death by the boobies. Sylus would probably love to wrestle and end up in physics breaking positions and end up gasping for air between MC's gargantuan muscular thighs.

Anywaysss, not as 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, but my brain juice is dry and my thighs happens to be thick with nothing to lay upon it

hi anon!! YOU'RE SO REAL ACTUALLY i have never thought about this but i feel like the boys would be so horny for a muscle mommy putting them in their place (believe it or not even xavier despite his dom-ish tendencies) this also made me think about mc pegging them while holding them in a headlock whewwwwww. thank you for planting this seed in my head actually. also i volunteer as tribute to lay upon thine thighs or however the saying goes ♡

the first time sylus is eating you out and you instinctively clench your thighs, he swears he felt all his sins be absolved and his soul instantly granted heaven. enveloped in you, tasting you, smelling you, he had never been so hard to the point of hurting in his goddamn life. he would have the most glazed dilated eyes as he goes pussy drunk, rutting the air pathetically the more you grinded on that crazy angled nose slope of his.

zayne would quite literally be the type to attempt to breastfeed from your tits i fear. and at work whenever someone mentions some biological terms for muscles, he might have to go rub one out in the toilet because he keeps thinking of the way your muscles ripple and tighten aroumd him when he's buried deep inside, waist crushed into nothing (because his waist was never there to begin with. body is tea as fuck). if you ever suggested pegging, he may or may not be extra sensitive and start cumming all over the sheets when you do.

xavier would be reluctant to openly agree for you to peg him but halfway through as his head is held in the crook of your bicep and elbows, thrusting into him with his ass smacking against the firm of your thighs. he would cum way too fast and way more than usual too. we're talking like big spurts. aftercare may or may not involve you having to let him fuck you like a rabbit during mating season because he has so much left to give and a huge favour to repay for making him go feral the way you did.

rafayel would be sending memes of being pegged and dommed by you as hints that are definitely anything but subtle. he'd be a literal housewife if you only asked. he would literally be so inspired and reverent of your physique he might make a statue of you based on an intimate polaroid of the view he has when you're giving his a firm thigh job. the way his dick slid against the ridges of your muscles, the way you were strong enough to hold him down when you're riding him, it makes him salivate everytime.

caleb is the type to loveeeee play fighting turned sex because let's be honest, that man is a freak of nature. he'd say he's way stronger than you, wrestling with lesser fear because he knows you can take it. so regardless of the end result, either him holding your thighs down and open as he carves your pussy out with his dick, fingers gripping the muscles and getting impossibly harder in your warm pussy, or you holding his head crushed against the valley of your tits as you bounce on his cock. to him, a win is a win.

[mechncheese]

So I’m curious, what are your science guys even up to? Like what’s the concept for them being a team out in space during the war? Is is it not? Very interesting stuff 👀

Oh I am so glad you asked ! This gives me the perfect excuse to yap about the Science Continuity, so buckle up !

So all this stuff is in my Pitchdeck Work in Progress but I'll share what I got (things are still up in the air to change but this is the general gist I'm going with !)

But first I want to begin with a disclaimer !

This continuity does not feature any humans and does not feature Earth. References to Earth related things (media and swears) will be made but overall, this is a story about Cybertronians.

The genre for this continuity is comedy and drama with some lighthearted moments, though it features content such as robot violence and gore.

Romance is not a huge focus in this, though I would be lying if I said there wouldn’t be tension between some characters but for the most part the audience is free to interpret character relationships however they please.

There will be Jetfire and Starscream being messy, that’s the only definitive relationship I can say with certainty but this isn’t reeaaally a Jetfire and Starscream centric/focused story (I'm booed off stage). It’s more like a side thing, so don’t expect to see them interact too much right away. I want to let Jetfire shine and stand out on his own without Starscream and develop Jetfire’s relationship with the other bots as well as explore other bot's relationships in general ! BUT THEY WILL BE FEATURED EVENTUALLY I just draw the funnies that come to my head and right now they're on the backburner in favor of other character interactions.

I'm also not making a full-blown webcomic or anything, I'll have an outline for the timeline / episodic summaries of what happens when I finish this Pitchdeck with illustrations and such ! I will be drawing short comics and other illustrations featuring character interactions + major moments I want to emphasize visually. I do this for funsies on my free time so I may be slow when it comes to that and also don't expect anything really grand, sorraayy !

With that out of the way, here's the Logline for the Science Continuity !

"As war continues to rage on planet Cybertron, A desperate Optimus Prime entrusts Autobot scientist Jetfire and his team of scientists the task of restoring life to their dying planet as they battle against the Decepticons."

Here are the settings/locations of significance/context:

Cybertron - Once Home, Now A Barren Wasteland

In this continuity, Cybertron has turned into a dystopian post-apocalyptic wasteland, drained of its resources and energon amidst the war. The weather on the surface is extreme and fluctuates, forcing Autobots and Decepticons to make their bases within the planet itself.

Cybertron - Iacon - Decepticon Controlled City

Decepticons currently have the upper hand. They’ve overtaken Iacon, Cybertron’s capital city. A majority of the city was destroyed in a major battle with the Autobots. The Decepticons have built their base underneath the city itself, leaving the surface to erode with the elements. 

With the energon shortage, Decepticons have been carefully scavenging the surface for any scraps remaining.

Cybertron - Abandoned Mines - Autobot Hideout

The Autobots have been cornered into the abandoned mines near the outskirts of Iacon. Desperate for any energon, Autobots have resorted to digging further within the mines in hopes of uncovering any untapped veins. They've been sending out expeditions into the mines and onto the surface in search of resources.

Luna 2 - Decepticon Science Base

Luna 2 orbits Cybertron and was the location of the former Autobot Science Base. It was ransacked by Decepticons in the midst of war, forcing the Autobot scientists to abandon Luna 2 through the space bridge. The space bridge is now under Decepticon control, giving them a huge advantage over the Autobots. 

Ambition - Moon of the Hidden Science Base - Main Location of Focus

Ambition is the moon the Science Team ended up on after escaping through the space bridge. The location of this moon is within an uncharted solar system, orbiting a large gas planet among many other smaller moons.

The Science Team has made their new base on Ambition and intend to see their mission to find a way to save Cybertron through. But now they’re saddled with another mission.. How to get back home.

(Note: I made up this location for this AU specifically </3)

--

TLDR: Jetfire was sent out by Optimus with the other Autobot Scientists on a mission to save Cybertron, the war has taken a heavy toll on the planet and he hopes that they can find some scientific means of restoring their home. Wow ! That is a VERY heavy task, no pressure !

This is mostly a story about Jetfire in a leadership position and how he is coping with the weight of such a task on his shoulders while everything goes wrong and the world is against him.

Character personalities are different in this continuity so this a more stern/serious Jetfire than the gentle natured Skyfire G1. He has a team to manage after all !

Thank you for reading if you made it through this beast length ramble, here's Jetfire getting scrubbed

[princessmaeee]

I think I need myself some secret romance T.O.P and GD's little sister

Discretion ? I don't think So

Hello ! So, first of all, I'm sorry for the wait, it often take me some time to do the request cause I need time to think and get inspired. The challenge with that was to make it in one part so it's more of a relation than romance. Otherwise for a fanfiction it probably could have been a cute Slow Burn. I hope you will still Like it. TW : Not full Smut but mention of it.

You stepped out of the train and directly rushed into Jiyong's arms when you noticed him. Since you didn't live  at Seoul and didnt have a car Yet, when you want to visit your brother, you always take the train and of course, he’s always there to bring you at the train station. With all the fame Big bang has, having you around is always a little bit dangerous. Even If you are G-Dragon's little sister and all the fanbase knows about you, sneaking you into the house is not that easy. After all, your brother lives with other guys and if the fans came to know about you staying with them even for vacation, that could be a problem. Who knows what can happen in those walls. And actually, The fanbase wouldn't be wrong this time. After all, you are secretly in a relationship with Seung Hyun for almost a year now and even your own brother doesn't know about it. When You visit him at Seoul, it's of course to see and spend time with him but also with your boyfriend. When you can’t do a trip to Seoul, it happen that Seung Hyun come to see you or his days off and pass two or three day at your place and as much as you like to have him around, it’s kinda hard since you can’t do activities like a normal couple outside of the horse so you prefer to see him at Seoul. It’s easier to plan things and have more privacy. On your way to the boys house, you talk with Ji Yong about recent things that happened at work and some drama around it. You said how some coworkers are annoying, asking you out again and again, making him laugh.

_Why are you Laughing ? _They seem to like you a lot to ask you again and again. Why do you not accept to just go out with one of them ? _Well, because… I don’t want a Boyfriend. I need to focus on my work and I don’t want any distraction. And if things didn’t end well, I don’t want things to be weird or the other coworker to involve themselves into everything. _Yeah, now that you mention it, it’s totally fair.

It’s kinda hard to not be able to say to Him that you already have a Boyfriend. Normally I would have been the first to know, but since this person is a member of his group, you prefer to keep it secret to avoid potential problems. As much as you wish to marry Seung Hyun and end your life with him, you are still careful cause you both don’t want to create issues if your relationship has to come to an end.

Once you entered the boys house, you could smell something nice in the air and smiled. Daesung and Taeyang, who were playing video Games came to greet you and hugged you. Seung Hyun was the last one to come see you and when you saw him, you couldn’t help it and smiled more. He wore a dirty apron, making you guess he was one who cooked tonight. He does that often when he comes to see you at your place. Actually He never let you cook when he’s around. You hope it’s not cause once Ji Yong told everyone you messed up some easy recipes like rice or eggs. You even burned some cookies you had made for school when you were sixteen. Now you are way better at cooking things since you live alone.

_What are you making for us Tonight, Seung Hyun ? Asked your brother _Oh, you're gonna see. Something you will probably enjoy, he answered as he gave you a look. _And How do you know she will ? _You talk about her so much, I start to guess what she will like, he answered before his eyes went back to you. You will have to excuse me for not giving you a hug like the others did, I'm sort of… dirty. _It’s fine, let’s save this for later, you answered with a smile. Do you need help in the kitchen? _Hell No, answered Ji Yong, I would like to still have a Kitchen by the end of the evening. Let Seung Hyun handle it while we go put your stuff in your room.

The boys laugh at your brother’s comment and you blush,embarrassed. Your brother let you use Taeyang old room. Since he lives with his wife now, this room is empty most of the time and almost became yours. You planned to stay a week so you packed a lot of outfits and even some more… revealing, hoping to have at least one moment alone with your boyfriend. As you put everything in the drawers, someone knocked at your door before it open. You turn around to see who it was and smile when you notice Seung Hyun. He had removed his dirty apron. You didn’t lose time and threw yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly as he hug you back.

_I missed you, you said. _I missed you too.

You stayed a little more in his arms before he let you go. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back to your clothes duties.

_For how long did you plan to stay, he asked. _A week, at least. I took vacation from work because I wanted to spend more time with you. I hope it’s okay.. _Of course, We will figure out when we can have a little date.

You both heard Ji Yong's voice from the kitchen, saying the meal will burn if Seung Hyun does not come back to watch after it. You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend opened the door.

_See you later, love, He said before leaving.

The first evening you had with the guys was fun. Seung Hyun's food was delicious as alway, he even cooked cookies. He was right about how much you will enjoy it, cause you did. After dinner, you helped the boys to clean the kitchen and discussed having a game night. Taeyang refused, saying he had to go home, but all the others agreed. Ji Yong and Daesung left to go grab some snacks at the grocery store, leaving you alone with Seung Hyun. You quickly decided to go take a shower. As you undressed in the bathroom, the door behind you slowly opened before you could feel your boyfriend’s arms around you and his lips on your naked shoulder. You shiver and smile.

_Want to take a Shower with me ? You asked softly. _I would love to, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. The guys will come back soon.

You turned around and passed your arms around his neck, still smiling.

_So we're gonna have to make it quick.

You pressed your Lips against SeungHyun's, as your fingers slided in his air.  His hands on your hips pulled you closer to him as he answered your kiss. You slowly take a step back, still holding him, carefulling making your way to the shower, your lips still glued to his. When you were close enough, your hands went down to the base of his top and removed it, pulling away from his lips before you crashed it back to it.

_Okey, You win, Go first, I will join you in a minute, said Seun Hyun against your lips.

You pulled away, smiling before you started the shower and entered it.  When your boyfriend was ready, he joined you in it and pushed you against the cold wall of the shower. His lips came back to yours  and you quickly started to forget that you had to make it really quick. The room was filled by the steam of the shower but also from the heat of your bodies collapsing against each other.  Once you finished ‘’ taking a shower ‘’ you got out and rolled yourself in a big towel as Seung hyun put his around his hips. He gently kissed you on the forehead and left the room first. That’s when you heard your brother’s voice coming from the living room.

_What about time guys. You could have told us at least that you wanted to be alone.

Seung hyun had frozen in the living room when he noticed JiYong and Daesung on the couch. You felt your cheeks burning and you quickly put on your pyjama before getting out of the bathroom to join them in the living room. This time, you had nothing to say. No excuses could be used.

_From how long have you been back ? You asked _Long enough to hear things I would like to never hear again. But at least we had our headphones.

You looked at Seung Hyun, he looked as embarrassed as you.

_I know you guys are a thing but next time, warn us. Since when ? Asked your boyfriend _I had my doubts when Once a month your snapchat map says you are at my sister’s house. And We also caught you when we came back from the studio and you were asleep on the couch last time Y/N visited. And after today I can be certain that discretion is not your thing at all.

As much embarrassed you felt, you were sort of happy that your brother knew. You will not have to hide anymore in front of him or any other group member, at least.

[lorbanery]

Oh! We were just catching up on "Um, Actually" last night on Dropout and they did a second episode of all kids media trivia, and one of the contestants reminded me of the episode that is one of the most obviously written For The Parents, "Baby Race".

The episode is Chilli telling the story of how Bluey learned to walk, so we flash back to baby Bluey rolling over earlier than the literature says to expect it (this is an actual milestone for babies, have the muscle strength, coordination, and spacial reasoning to be able to roll over onto their back or stomach on their own). Chilli gets very cocky about Bluey rolling over so early, especially with everyone around her being all "Oh my goodness I've NEVER heard of a baby rolling over THAT early!".

Cut to her mother's group and in the middle of getting more praise about Bluey rolling over really early, Judo's mother, Wendy, exclaims excitedly that baby Judo is sitting! Again, another real life milestone, being able to sit up on their own without falling over.

Chilli gets kinda jealous and spends some time trying to get Bluey to sit up too, and as soon as Bluey can, they get to the mothers group only discover that Judo is crawling.

Chilli gets kinda jealous and spends some time trying to get Bluey to crawl. It doesn't work, Bluey finds other ways to get around. Chilli worries that there might be something wrong with Bluey so takes her to the doctor, who reassures her that Bluey's fine.

But Chilli's gotten how quickly Bluey's hitting these milestones all tangled up in her head with how good of a parent she is. So every time Judo hits a new milestone and Bluey doesn't, or every time Bluey sort of hits a milestone sideways (she eventually crawls, but only crawls backwards, which is also real! Our kid pretty much only crawled backwards until they were able to walk), she gets worried she's doing something wrong and checks in with her doctor again.

Eventually Judo takes her first steps before Bluey has even started crawling forwards, and Chilli takes it so hard that she stops going to the mothers group. She started off thinking she was doing so well as a parent, only to see someone else she perceived as doing better than her, and every shred of confidence she had just crumbled. She must have been doing something wrong, because her kid seemingly stalled out on hitting those milestones, or at least slowed down, and of course development is perfectly linear and those age guidelines are set in stone and not a general rough guide about the oldest age to expect the milestone to happen, right?

So one of the other mothers, Bella, notices that Chilli isn't at the mothers group and, concerned, comes over to check in on Chilli. Chilli admits to her that it just feels like she's been doing everything wrong. Bella shows Chilli a photo of her family, which surprises Chilli. Most of the mothers in the group are new parents like Chilli, because of course those are the parents who are most likely to need the support of a group like that, and it's good for kids who don't have siblings at home to socialize with. It turns out, though, that Bella has nine kids, including Coco, the baby she brings to the group.

Bella sets a hand on Chilli's shoulder and tells her seriously, "I've got something to tell you." Chilli asks "What?" already feeling really self-loathing about her own parenting skills and wary about what this person who has so much more experience parenting is going to tell her. But Bella just smiles and tells her, "You're doing great." And Chilli breaks down in tears and they hug.

And if that wasn't enough to make you tear up as a parent, the episode actually ends with Bingo asking if Bluey ever learned how to walk (because she's four and it's hard at that age to connect A to C). And as Chilli answers, "Yes! In the kitchen, actually," we flash back one more time to the moment Bluey took her first steps, crawling backwards into the kitchen and seeing Chilli working at the counter. "The kitchen?! Why in the kitchen?!" Bluey exclaims as baby Bluey starts pulling herself up on a cabinet. "I don't know!" Chilli laughs. As baby Bluey starts taking her first shaky steps, the camera switches to Bluey's POV, looking up at her mom, and we hear Bingo suggest, "Maybe you saw something that you wanted." Then Chilli turns and we see her shocked smile as she sees Bluey walking towards her.

There is so much genuine sincerity packed into that show. And that is why parents love it so much.

In Australia we have this cartoon for toddlers called Bluey. It's very good, models positive family relationships well and teaches good practical and emotional lessons to very young kids. But what I have recently learned on youtube is that Americans are OBSESSED with it. Why. This might be the most interested the US has been in Aussie tv since Neighbours.

[cicerfics]

The whole sugar-baby-Bond-being-bad-with-money thing is so delightful to me, because...like...

Listen, this man made it to his mid-to-late 40s while traveling the world and doing all sorts of insane stuff, so I definitely think he knows how to acquire absolutely anything he may need or want. I think he fully understands high finance, particularly as it pertains to stuff that happens on his missions.

But I also think he has zero experience with normal, mundane, everyday, well-regulated household finance.

He understands all about short-selling and elaborate scams that could have an impact on the global stock markets!

But he doesn't really know what a 'normal utility bill' for two adults living in London might look like.

I also think that his baseline is completely thrown off by his global travels and the fact that prices are so variable depending on where you are in the world.

Like...how much does a banana cost? Well, Bond doesn't know, really. It could be next to nothing, or it could be extremely expensive, depending on where he is in the world this week. They could be GIVING bananas away, or there could be a banana shortage due to shipping problems half a world away that are driving the price up! Who can say!

Also, I think Bond is very skilled and experienced at getting things the Illegal (or Illicit) Way, to the point where he doesn't know (or has forgotten) how to do things the Normal Way.

How does one acquire a car? Well, one receives a car from one's quartermaster, of course! Or one steals a car. Or one wins a car in a high-stakes poker game. :)

Cars are always readily available! Any car one might desire!! Bond is so good at getting cars at any given moment!

But how does one go about buying or leasing a car through traditional means...? Bond is not entirely sure, tbh!

I don't know. Something about this concept just tickles me right down to my toes.

This man who is a secret agent, a world-traveler, an experienced and successful espionage operative, who has been everywhere and done everything and is really highly intelligent...does not know how much groceries are supposed to cost or how you're supposed to, like, create a household budget.

He's completely flummoxed by all the paperwork and strange procedures that one must perform in order to do things The Normal Way. He navigates smoothly and flawlessly through the criminal underworld, but he actually understands almost nothing about civilian life. Help him.