#mini kegs

[drankenuk]

Unleash the Beer King: Mini kegs fit for a royal gathering Mini kegs are designed to hold enough beer for a royal gathering and are perfect for parties, barbecues, or any other occasion. With the Beer King mini kegs, you can enjoy your favorite beer on tap like the royals do. So, raise your glass and unleash the Beer King for a truly royal beer experience.

[dranken-uk]

Unleash the Beer King: Mini kegs fit for a royal gathering

Mini kegs are designed to hold enough beer for a royal gathering and are perfect for parties, barbecues, or any other occasion. With the Beer King mini kegs, you can enjoy your favorite beer on tap like the royals do. So, raise your glass and unleash the Beer King for a truly royal beer experience.

[officialrailscales]

Our new HTP Solo’s in FDE & OD Green to match the rattle can paint on our M400 Pro 🎨

Karve-P | FDE

QTR Stop | Terra Bronze

HTP Solo’s | FDE | Matrix Texture | 1-Slot

HTP Solo’s | FDE | Matrix Texture | 1.5-Slot

HTP Solo’s | OD Green | Matrix Texture | 1-Slot

HTP Solo’s | OD Green | Matrix Texture | 1.5-Slot

QDX Sling Mount | Terra Bronze

CSMR Button | Terra Bronze | MilSpec Style

- RS

[vivsemporium]

HAPPY 2024 EVERYONE!! Hope you have a wonderful year and take the bestest of self care and love! I am starting off the year strong with already streaming for a few hours earlier today and ME? Painting mimics?! These lil guys are your very unassuming furniture mimics that can be lurking in your tabletop terrain, completely innocent, till a player gets just a little bit too close and gets chomped. Mimics are up on my Etsy page already, as well as many other fun things that you can include to either fight against your players or become the party's mascot!

[shadowthief78]

more than halfway to perfection wahoo!!!!!!

[dykefever]

can you guys. um can u come buy the seasonal beer we are trying to get rid of at work so that i can win a mini keg of beer . thank u

[fairymint]

good morning i am somehow not hung over! guess that was a refresher for how being drunk can be like again-

[azuneekun]

STARDEW VALLEY BACHELOR/BACHELORETTE (personal) HEADCANONS:

Maru

Is a registered nurse, but is working to become a medicinal and environmental researcher like her father (Professor Demetrius).

Robotics, Electrical engineering and Astronomy are just a few of her hobbies and passions. 

Afraid of getting real piercings, so Sebastian gifted her clip-ons.

Doesn’t trust newer computers, unlike her brother.

She is nearsighted and has astigmatism.

She goes stargazing in hopes of finding signs of extraterrestrial life. Or just to see if she can spot a certain flying robot.

Used to follow her brother Sebastian around a lot when she was very young, but his troublemaking behavior made Maru distance herself. She still cares about him.

Loves helping the farmer with building farming machines.

Loves spending time with her best friend Penny and talking about books and trivia together.

Other than tinkering with gadgets, she also enjoys doing puzzles.

Penny

Could not afford finishing her teaching course in college due to financial troubles.

Saving up money in her tutoring job to become an elementary school teacher.

Her father abandoned them due to feeling ‘trapped’. It happened around fall—so she feels melancholic during that season.

Likes cooking but is a novice at it.

She and Emily do arts and crafts together in the library and or the (fixed) community center. (For the kids and for event decorations.)

She has a slight southern accent.

Elliott and her like to swap book recommendations.

Loves listening to Maru infodumping about her trivia and interests. She teaches them to Jas and Vincent in return.

She likes to do crossword puzzles under the tree near the graveyard.

She prefers to wear skirts.

She influenced Jas and Vincent to have an interest in archeology, thanks to her own fondness of it.

Abigail

Pets every animal they see. Sanitizes herself right away before going home due to Pierre's allergies.

Sometimes helps her dad with the general store. Pierre gives her some money in return.

Abigail loves to draw and sometimes likes to join art competitions.

Enjoys the occult and fortune telling. Has some magical ability, but is not fully aware of it.

She plays the flute and the drums.

Loves adventuring, but feels guilty killing monsters (even out of self defense). Will make graves or offer prayers to put their souls to rest.

Very interested in monsters and loves reading about them.

She has a sweet tooth; minerals taste like candy to her. She also loves spicy food from time to time.

Gets sunburnt easily.

Leah

Used to be hired as an illustrator for books in Zuzu City.

Is under apprenticeship with Robin.

Loves using different painting mediums. Current favorites are charcoal, oil painting, and watercolors.

Experienced forager—she adores making vegetable/fruit salads and stir-frys out of them.

Likes to drink the wine sold by the farmer and the saloon.

She is left handed.

She makes her own special homemade vinaigrette.

Has her own mini-garden.

Loves to help the farmer with crafting artisan equipment that involves wood (eg: kegs, preserve jars, casks, and etc.)

Emily

The unofficial hair stylist (and barberess) of the townies. (HC adopted from @/moon-boat)

Has some real spiritual power and foresight.

Her prophetic visions mostly appear in her dreams.

Knows supernatural beings and Junimo exist (and has seen them) but opts not to tell anyone directly for the creatures’ safety. (Likes to give subtle hints, though.)

Can genuinely communicate with birds and flowers.

Is very good at arts and crafts and helps decorate the festivals often.

Vegetarian. Likes to cook vegetarian dishes.

She's a very talented dancer, and she likes to do her choreography in secret.

Sandy sells the clothes she makes. Haley advertises them on her blog. 

Loves all animals—especially birds.

She likes clowns and circuses.

Is very meticulous about cleanliness and housework.

Is incredibly scared of watching horror movies.

Haley

A talented cook that loves baking sweets.

Is a social media influencer. She has a popular Instagram account called StarfruitHaley and a Youtube channel named Cooking Junimo.

Likes drinking peppermint coffee and eating cupcakes.

She is a picky eater.

Learned to dance from Emily.

She and Emily are taiwanese-americans.

Her hair is dyed blonde and she wears contacts.

Freelance model, but likes doing photography more.

Does photography gigs sometimes.

Secretly admires her sister's dancing, but doesn't want to lose to her during the Flower dance.

Likes to go surfing during the summer time. (HC adopted from @/sofiaruelle )

Closeted lesbian, but came out proudly once she started to live in the valley.

Bunnies and Ponies are her favorite animals.

Shane

Prefers keeping people at a distance (so it doesn’t hurt him if he loses them), but is weak to persistent people. (eg: Emily, Sam, the farmer)

Is very good friends with Emily. Likes to joke around and share chicken stories with her. 

Lost a sports scholarship in university due to injury, so he dropped out. (He took a course in multimedia arts, hence his 7 ♡ event.)

Likes to collect funny printed boxers.

Wears old clothes until they tear apart.

Doesn't bother combing his hair much.

Takes care of the animals when Marnie's not around, and teaches Jas about the ranch while he’s at it. 

Most of his savings are for Jas and Marnie.

Has calloused hands from hard work.

He likes to use nicknames. Both derogatively and affectionately. (e.g. Sweetheart, Chickadee, Doll, Buddy , Asshole, Jockstrap (Alex specific), Dickhead, Kid)

Shane has excellent upper body strength due to lifting heavy boxes at work, and sacks of feed at the ranch.

Jas’ mother is his older sibling. Marnie is his father's younger sister.

In the future, his beautiful blue chickens will become recognized as a standardized breed by the farming community. 

Harvey

Used to be a surgical oncologist. Left this position due to emotional distress.

Came from a prestigious family of doctors, lawyers, and professors.

Has a twin brother. ( HC adopted from @/coinly )

Loves science, history, and the documentary channels.

He used to be in a long term relationship but it ended due to LDR.

He can cook but doesn't feel happy eating by himself—so he just heats up frozen meals.

He smells like nice soap and hand sanitizer.

Has a wonderful singing deep voice. (HC adopted from @/hannahstumble )

Likes to drink wine every once in a while to relax.

Jazz music is calming to him. He owns many cassettes of the classics.

Elliott

Was a music professor in a private university.

Is from a wealthy family, but left to become more independent.

Humble and isn't very materialistic, but is very strict with his well-kept appearance. 

Keeps his pencils so sharp it might as well be a weapon.

Isn't very good at taking care of plants, but is learning how to. 

A little clumsy with housework and repairs, but tries to keep tidy.

His favorite pastime with his father was fishing. 

Likes to drink, but can’t hold his liquor at all.

 In his youth, he has gotten some recognition for his published short stories and poetry, but  has yet to make a full length novel.

Commissions and collaborates with Leah on art and ideas for his books.

His piano actually came from Robin's. Sebastian used to own it but preferred playing the synth now.

Sebastian

Is very skillfull at using a knife (for fish and seafood).

He is a lazy genius. 

His Korean name is Seojun. His biological father tried bringing him to his home country when he and Robin divorced, but Sebastian opted to stay with his mother.

He loves cats as much as frogs and bats.

Sleeps very messily. Ends up in weird positions on the bed, with pillows dropped onto the floor.

Loves exploring the mines and wants to join the Adventurer's guild in the future.

Does his (and his friends') piercings.

Has a long deep scar on his left leg due to a rock crab.

The town go-to mechanic, alongside Maru.

He’s jealous of Maru, but doesn’t hate her. Doesn’t know how to express himself, so they end up fighting. He thinks he’s not the best older brother to have.

Insomniac. Needs medication to help sleep, sometimes.

Likes to tease and scare people.

Also gets sunburnt easily—but in return doesn’t get affected by the cold weather as much.

Best billiards player in Stardew.

Alex

Has dyslexia, but is not aware of it (until the farmer points it out).

Likes to help cook with his grandma.

Makes and sells his own icecream.

Is the local town mailman.  (HC adopted from @/ryllen )

Childhood friends with Haley, but pretended to be her boyfriend in HS to shield her from men (as per her wishes).

Not only was he a varsity quarterback for gridball, but he was also an ace baseball player.

One of his favorite pastimes is watching the gridball game every Sunday.

Thinking about saving money to go to a vocational college or getting a scholarship. 

Interested in becoming a physical fitness coach if his dreams to go to the league fall through.

Afraid of being vulnerable to people, because he wants to be seen as strong and reliable.

Sam

A popular boy in school. 

Was influenced into loving music due to Sebastian. 

Likes flowers but has severe hay fever.

Has a scar on his eyebrow from a skateboard accident.

Loves his mom's largemouth bass fish casserole.

Thinks being a submarine captain might be cool as a job (thanks to the night market), but would prefer being in the music industry.

Likes to DJ and compose his own music.

A little forgetful, so his wrists and hands are full of scribbles and rubber bands as reminders.

Likes cactuses and the flowers that bloom from it (and especially loves cactus fruit).

Him and Alex both like to collect branded sports shoes, and talk about it together sometimes.

[theblueeyedeagle]

They discovered it, they just decided to relegate it the the spark hunters and darkbeasts

headcanon that bloodborne and lies of p both take place in the same period & yharnam and krat are in fact a few hours' boat trip from one another. but yharnam can't get electricity on account of The Horrors

[kiiyomei]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝑩𝒂𝒅 & 𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒋𝒆𝒆 𝑲𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

(TW: not proofread, mention of drugs, and bad grammar )

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘉𝘢𝘥 & 𝘉𝘰𝘶𝘫𝘦𝘦 𝘒𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦, 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥—𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺? 𝘛𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖱𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗎𝗉. 𝖨𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖪𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖰𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗅.

Bad and Boujee Kook stepped away from her newly made friends or possible acquaintances depending on how it goes to determine if they’re genuine or not. She sashayed through the crowd of people, reaching the corner turn to the kitchen and collided into a wall?

No instead, it was none other than Rafe Cameron, and just so lucky for her it included the red plastic solo-cup filled with whiskey that spilled on her.

“What the fuck?!” She exclaims, stepping back to look down to her red velvet tube top and leopard print mini skirt, now stained with whiskey.

“You should watch where you’re going.” Rafe grumbled, carelessly tossing the cup to the trash and unapologetic for spilling on her.

She stared at him with a dumbfounded expression, before changing into an angered one after.

“Me? You’re the douchebag that spilled your drink on me and still haven’t apologized.” She scoffed, pointing her finger hard into his chest to make her point.

“Why would I apologize? You’re the one who in fact bumped into me first.” Rafe declared, crossing his arms across his chest and smirked amusingly.

“Matter of fact, I think you owe me a drink.”

It was the final straw, which led to Bad and Boujee Kook to only smile mockingly then grabbed the closest drink nearby; unfortunately it happened to be Topper that came by to see the commotion.

“What are you—“ Rafe tried to ask, but cut off by the sudden liquid tossed into his face and cup thrown at his head right after by her.

“Drink up, bitch boy.” She made the final comment, before walking off from the two in the kitchen and deciding to leave the party early than anticipated.

Topper eyes were wide, shocked by the sudden commotion that escalated quickly and unsure to what to say without risking his best friend from kicking his ass for it or shouting at him. Odds were not good.

“Did she really?” Topper continued looking between his best friend and the silhouette of her before disappearing into the crowd of people.

“She did.” Rafe exhaled a long sigh, wiping the beer from the keg stand from his face and his eyes.

But something deep down inside of him ignited; intrigue? curiosity? interest? It was all unsure except one thing on his mind. He needed someone like her.

“That was kinda hot.” He admitted, unfazed by the stickiness and scent of beer lingering on him.

Topper shakes his head, concerned about his friend. “Man you’ve got some issues..”

𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘉𝘢𝘥 & 𝘉𝘰𝘶𝘫𝘦𝘦 𝘒𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺

𝘚𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘵; 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦.

𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 (𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦.

“Rafe, I’m not going to keep putting up with the hot and cold shoulder. We’re adults for fuck sake, this isn’t elementary to play hot and cold game.” She snapped finally, ready to put him in his place.

“If you feel that way, then go ahead and pack your shit then leave.” Rafe threatened carelessly, not entirely serious and thinking he’d have the win over her.

His once big ego shrinks, after witnessing her give one firm nod and mumbled of ‘okay’ then proceeded to walk into the shared walk-in closet to pack a bag. It was like his heart dropped to his stomach, not sure if she was serious or play reverse psychology on him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, approaching her in the walk-in closet and seeing her grab leather brown Louis Vuitton duffle bag to pack her clothes and shoes.

She scoffed, not replying this time instead continuing to stride around the room to grab some of her belongings that were deemed important enough.

“Are you serious going to leave?” He continued to speak, his anxiety rising and stepped into the room to try stepping in her way to prevent her.

She looked up to him with disbelief, chuckling softly.

“I’m not gonna stay where I’m not wanted, so can you move? Please and thank you.” She stepped around him to grab some of her shoes.

It was one big reality check, that Bad & Boujee Kook wasn’t like his ex’s that used to drop to his feet begging to fix things or to stay, instead she seems okay’d enough to give it up and leave him.

For the first time ever in his life, Rafe practically leaped to grab ahold her and putting aside dignity and pride to keep her from actually leaving him.

“Baby, I…I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, feeling unlike himself to do this kind of thing but he actually cared about her and their relationship. “Don’t..”

“Don’t what?” She asked, expectantly awaiting for him to spit out the words she’d been awaiting for him to say and making 10x difficult for him. “Use your words.”

He grumbled, in taking a sharp breath and avoiding her gaze after it made it much harder doing so while she loved every second of it to relish it.

“Don’t leave me.” He says, after clearing his throat and speaking clearly while trying to not get pouty although it sounded like it in his voice. “…please.”

She exhaled a small sigh but cracked into the little smile upon her soft, plump lips and set down the bag to step closer towards him. Her hand cupped his jaw, tilting his head to gaze into her eyes.

“Don’t pull this shit again, cause we both know I’m the last one to put up with it.” She stated simply, then sealed it with a soft kiss to his cheek. “Got it?”

He felt glad no one was around, to see the way she got him wrapped her little finger and easily whipped.

“I’ve got it.” He stated firmly.

“Good boy.” She giggled.

(Alexa play Walk Em Like A Dog By Saucy Santana)

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘎𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘉𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘰𝘶𝘫𝘦𝘦 𝘒𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦�� 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘩 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘫𝘦𝘦 𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬’𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘬𝘦.

Bad and Boujee Kook home was the second safe place for Rafe, including her parents that welcomed him with open arms to their family. Including extending a key for him to use cause of how much they trusted him.

Which why it wasn’t a surprise that he came over, with the emergency key in hand to unlock the front door at 3 in the morning and nowhere to go in the rain. He had been driving around the island aimlessly, going through one big manic episode after the fight with his dad; Ward, and his drug dealer Barry not responding.

She had zero experience with anyone that gone through withdrawals from drugs or anything as such, but she was willing to try to help him.

Even if it meant sitting on the shower floor with the water turned lukewarm and holding him tightly in her arms after he goes through the symptoms. She continued playing with his hair, as her other free hand rubbing his back soothingly slow.

“I-I want to quit…I want to be clean, but.” Rafe mumbled, stuttering over his words and trying to open up but still finding it difficult to explain.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” She whispered, placing soft kisses to his head while his head rested upon her bare chest and her nude body sat in his lap. Yet still the big spoon.

“It won’t always be easy, but when you’re ready I’ll be there through it all.” She kissed his temple, continuing to hold him through the entire shower.

The moodboard of the dynamic couple

likes & reblogs are appreciated🙂‍↔️🩷

[clearexpertarcade]

James was sprawled out on the couch, and it was hard not to notice the toll of his recent lifestyle changes. His gray boxers hugged his backside tightly, emphasizing the weight he’d put on. What used to be a barely-there belly had transformed into a noticeable gut, gently spilling over the elastic waistband, while chunky love handles jiggled on either side. I couldn't help but wonder: Does he really not see that roll of fat hanging over his waistband?

“Man, you’re starting to get fat,” I said, half-joking.

James shot me a look, a smirk creeping across his face. “But you’re getting fucking fat, dude. What happened to that six-pack of yours?”

I chuckled, leaning back against the armrest. “Guess I’ve been spending too much time on this couch with your fat ass watching TV.”

“Give me a break,” James scowled, crossing his arms defensively. “It’s not that much weight—”

“Not that much?” I interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Dude, you’ve got a whole new set of curves. You used to have abs; now it looks like you’ve got a mini keg going on.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Okay, maybe I’ve indulged a bit more than I should, but it’s just a phase. I’ll hit the gym again… eventually.”

“Eventually?” I chuckled, glancing at the half-eaten pizza box on the coffee table. “At this rate, your ‘eventually’ is going to turn into a full-blown hibernation.

His belly, once barely chubby, was now fat and sagging over his pants. His chest drooped a little, giving him a look that was more dad-bod than gym-rat. With a mischievous grin, he lifted up his belly, proudly displaying his unbuttoned pants. “See? I had to do the same thing, man. Looks like those pizzas are catching up with us.”

I burst into laughter, unable to help myself. “Dude, that’s a whole new level of comfort! Are you sure you want to show off the ‘unbuttoned’ look? Next thing you know, we’ll be calling you ‘James the Fashionista.’”

“Hey, I’m just being practical,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye. “Who needs to deal with buttons when you’ve got a perfectly good belly to hold your pants up? Besides, it’s a great conversation starter!”

“Yeah, like ‘Hey, check out my gut! Want a slice of pizza?’” I chuckled, shaking my head.

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your usually bright and bubbly self snaps when you hear people talking bad about your boyfriend

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, one slap LMAO 😥, people are very mean in this :(

(loosely) based off this request: Just dorky shy ethan x sweet bubbly (maybe popular??) reader from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: two posts within the same day?!? also i only kinda followed the request but i think its similar! hope you guys like this one! 💘

you had just finished drawing a nose and whiskers with bright eyeshadow, when your phone lit up. you picked your it up, to see that ethan had texted you. you smiled and unlocked your phone to open the message.

ethan 💗

hey im omw

ill be there in 10 

                                                                         you

                                                          okay!! ily! 💘

ethan 💗

love you too ❤️

you and ethan were walking together to some frat party for halloween. a couple of your friends begged you to go, however you knew ethan wasn’t the most comfortable at parties. 

you asked him one afternoon if he was up to it, making sure to emphasize that it was okay if he didn’t want to go, and that you would be happy to stay home and watch movies all night if thats what he wanted.

ethan wanted to be supportive, so he said he didn’t mind going, which was a complete lie. but seeing the smile on your face when he agreed was totally worth it. 

you and ethan decided to be characters from ratatouille. you were the remi, and he was chef linguini. you took a more sexy approach, with a grey corset and mini skirt, while he dressed a little more modest, with jeans and an apron. 

you carefully put on the headband with little mouse ears attached to it, and your costume was complete. shortly after, you heard knocking. you left your room and headed to let ethan in. 

you giggled at the sight of his costume, and went to plant a kiss on his lips. he kissed you back, his face now a shade of red. 

“you looks so cute!” you say, grinning widely. ethan compliments your outfit, and you head off the party.

you interlock hands with him on the short walk, your arms swinging with every step. you heard the house from down the street, the typical frat party music blaring loudly. 

you enter the rowdy estate, and immediately see some of your friends. you rush over to them, dragging ethan along with you. you let go of his hand to hug your friends, which left him standing their awkwardly. 

you decide to go find some drinks, and invite ethan to follow you. however, on your way to the kitchen, the crowd separates you and him. 

when you find the drinks, you realize ethan wasn’t with you anymore. you reach the keg and fill up a red solo cup, trying to be quick so you could find him again. you search for a soda in the alcohol filled kitchen, knowing ethan wasn’t a big drinker.

while opening all of the cabinets, looking for anything that wasn’t spiked, a man around your age walked up to you.

“what are you? a mouse?” he asks, trying to start a conversation.

“remi the rat actually, im matching with my boyfriend.” you say, trying to politely express your disinterest while still searching for a damn soda. 

“whatcha looking for?” he continues to pester you, despite your previous comment.

“a soda, for my boyfriend.” you make sure to accentuate the boyfriend part, hoping he would take the hint. 

he opens a cabinet and hands you a sprite. 

“uhm thanks i guess.” you reply, and turned to walk away. the strange man grabbed you by the wrist, turned you around, and pulled you closer to him.

“he doesn’t have to know.” he whispers maliciously. 

you yank your arm away from him, and take off the other way. you tried your best not to make a scene, hoping that you could leave that all behind you and have a good time. 

he seemed to leave you alone after that whole ordeal, and you searched around the house for ethan. you eventually spotted him in the corner alone, scrolling through his phone. 

a wave of guilt washed over you. you should have been able to tell that he was lying when he said he wanted to come. 

you rush over, and apologize for leaving him. 

“im so sorry eth, we can go home if you want.” 

ethan saw the look of disappointment in your eyes, and he couldn’t bear to make you leave.

“it’s fine, really. I don’t mind. can you stay with me, please?” ethan asked. 

“of course, baby.” you replied, handing him the soda. “i know you don’t like drinking, so i found a soda for you!! all i could find was sprite, although i know your favorite is coke.” you say.

ethan smiled at your caring personality. how did he pull you? you were drop dead gorgeous and extremely popular, and he was well, just ethan. 

a loser, friendless, and a nobody were all words people used to describe him. you however, made him feel the opposite.

with you, he was someone. he could be himself around you, and make the stupid dad jokes that he was scared to say around other people in fear of being judged. 

just then, someone shouted your name from across the room. you grabbed ethans hand and interlocked your fingers once again, making sure he stayed by your side this time.

you pulled him over to a group of people, all of which he was unfamiliar with. you greeted all of them with a smile, and started catching up with them.

“your costume is so cute!” said one of the girls you were having a conversation with. 

“thanks!! ethan helped pick out most of it!” you reply back, leaning your head on his shoulder and smiling.

what you seemed to miss was the nasty glares they gave ethan. 

“is he uhm.. your boyfriend?” another girl from the group asked. what you didn’t miss was the tone she used. it was like she was ridiculing him, and for what? 

“yeah. got a problem with that?” you ask in a sarcastic tone, although you weren’t in the mood for being funny. 

“its just.. he’s kinda… nevermind.” the girl says back, her voice lowering at the end.

“no, say it. he’s kinda what?” you respond back, not as cheerful this time. ethan stood next to you, looking down at the ground. 

“fine. he’s a fucking weirdo.” the girl blurted out, and you were livid. in the heat of the moment, you slapped her straight across the face, hoping to knock some sense into her. 

the group gasped, and ethan looked at you with wide eyes. 

“what the fuck?!?” she shouted, getting everyones attention.

“how the hell are you gonna make fun of my boyfriend when you’re to much of a slut to even keep one?!?!” you yell at her. all you heard was “ooohs” from the crowd at your statement. 

ethan dragged you outside before anyone could say anything else. 

“are you okay??” ethan asks, worried. you look at him confused. 

“i should be asking you if you’re okay! those bitches had no right to say anything about you. you’re the best boyfriend, and if they can’t see that, than it’s their loss.” you reply.

ethan just hugs you upon hearing your words. 

he wanted to spend forever in your arms. you were his savior, protecting him from every asshole out there. 

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Suites & Sweets

freshman year at Jujutsu University Tokyo seems like it will be uneventful. and, well, that's true... until you meet the boys in the suite across the hall, and one in particular piques your interest.

satoru gojo x reader | jjk college au | no curse au | fem! reader | fluff, angst, & slow burn | SMAU & writing <3

introduction | previous | next PSA: *look HERE to see their private instagrams!*

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

ˋ°•*⁀➷˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 16. 𝓢𝓗𝓞 𝓓𝓞𝓦𝓝! ⍣ ೋ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ... wc: 5.5k

After you knock on the fraternity’s rickety front door, the crisp evening air sends a chill over your skin. Your phone buzzes in your pocket - a message from Toji confirming that he saw you arrive. You and your seven friends huddle under the harsh glow of a nearby streetlamp as its cold light flickers in the growing dusk. The bite of the night’s chill creeps up your arms, the scent of crisp autumn leaves and distant cigarette smoke filling your senses. Without warning, the light next to the door flicks on, bathing the entrance in a warm yellow hue, and the door creaks open. There, framed by the doorway, stands Fushiguro.

"Hey, guys. Come on in," he smiles, beer in one hand, the other pushing the door wider to let you and your friends in. You, being the last of your friends to enter, lag behind to greet your friend.

"Hi, Toji!" you exclaim after he closes the door behind you. You leap at him, wrapping your arms around his torso with such enthusiasm that you almost knock the air out of him. The way you embrace Toji was so full of energy that he barely has time to register. Finding your way of saying hello cute, a snicker escapes the back of his throat while he returns the gesture and squeezes you affectionately.

After a minute, Toji backs away from your embrace and smiles down at you. His eyes, a beautiful, deep jade, soak up your mini dress before finally responding, "Hey, ma. Lookin' good, as always. Gimme a spin." He stretches his arm out to you with a chaste wink, playfully gesturing for you to follow his request.

You take his hand as you comply, twirling swiftly on your heels. Your face grows warm and you giggle, "Thank you! So do you!"

"Want a drink?" he offers with a familiar teasing tone, to which you nod eagerly. "I'll grab you the same one as last time? Your friends are welcome to whatever they want, too."

"That's perfect. Thanks!" you beam, and as Toji walks toward the kitchen, you join Utahime on the plush bean bag in the same living room as last week's afterparty. Utahime, ever the affectionate one, wraps her arms around you, hugs you from behind, and nuzzles into you like a koala.

"I was told you all are welcome to whatever, so don't be shy. There's canned beer in the fridge, much better than keg beer," you offer to your friends.

"Don't mind if I do," Shoko murmurs, standing up and heading straight for the direction of the kitchen. Suguru follows her after asking what everyone's choice drink is.

Toji returns and walks over with your drink, handing it to you. It's unopened, making you happy, because even as much as you trust Toji, you're unsure of drinking from a pre-opened can at a fraternity. Regardless, after he hands it to you he sits on the leather chair beside you and Utahime. His casual posture contrasts the subtle tension that is in the air.

"Have you all met Kong?" Toji casually breaks the silence, gesturing to the man you are just realizing stands beside Toji.

Utahime releases her grip on you at a shockingly fast pace and bounces to her feet. "Yeah! Shiu, how are you?"

"Great, now that you're here," he flirts, his suaveness making Utahime turn bright red.

"Oh wow, that's a classic line," Yu remarks from across the room. A small laugh escapes him, "Pretty smooth."

Shiu pauses, his expression uncertain. "Thanks?"

"It was great, don't worry-" encourages Utahime.

"Wait, is his name Kong or Shiu?" Satoru interrupts from his seat beside Yu. For some reason, he is still wearing sunglasses even with it being dark out and him being indoors.

"Both," the man in question responds. He leans back slightly against the wall behind him, body language translating to unbothered. "First name Shiu, last name Kong. These guys call me King Kong. They think it's funny, or something. But you guys can call me whatever. I've stopped caring."

You lips curve up into a smile at Shiu, the ease of the conversation lightening your nerves that arise with every social situation. Toji's voice suddenly cuts through the atmosphere as he says your name, the deep tone catching your attention. "Yeah?"

"I got someone who wants to meet you. Come with me," he rises from his chair to lead you to another part of the house.

"Who? Why just me?" You stand and hurry to follow behind him and match his pace. A flicker of unease ricochets down your spine at your confusion.

"Special request," he intentionally leaves you on edge, wondering who you are being introduced to. Toji's hand finds yours to help guide you to wherever he is taking you to.

"Why does he want to meet me?" you ask. You struggle to maintain an even tone and keep your cool front.

"I dunno," Toji shrugs nonchalantly, glancing over his shoulder at you with a confident half-smile. "Guess you intrigue him."

"Well, that's comforting," the half-joke escapes you before you can think it over, and it makes the man leading you to your destination (or your demise?) chuckles" "What?"

"Nothin'. He's in here." Toji stops at a random door in a long hallway, away from the rest of the pre-gaming crowd.

"Am I about to be murdered?" you whisper. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the man and his scarred lip.

"No, ma. Don't worry s'much. C'mon," he squeezes your hand reassuringly, then enters a dimly let room, pushing the open door and granting you a better view into the space. Your eyes widen as you glimpse at the intimidating figure inside. The tall man fills a flask of whiskey, and his presence looms over the room like a shadow, lurking in every corner. "Hey, boss."

"Hey," he says without bothering to looking up from his task, voice low and steady like whatever he is doing is second nature. "This her?"

"Yeah," he confirms with a glance toward you. You look at him with a slight furrow in your brow and his lips offer a small smile, theb he introduces you to the president.

At long last, the fraternity's president turns to face you. You are struck by the sight before you - tattoos snake across his exposed skin, marking him with an unmistakable edge. The sharp angles of his face are softened by wild, pink hair that is somehow perfectly tousled. Yet, it is his eyes that demand the most of your attention: deep crimson ones locking with your own, pulling you in with a magnetic force that both intrigues you and frightens you.

"So you're the one I keep hearing about," the president says with a smirk that radiates mischief and a dangerous sort of charm, making you a complicated combination of flattered and wary. The effect he has is magnetic, but unsettles you all the same. "Toji's girl?" he extends a hand toward you, challenging you to shake. "I can't say I'm disappointed. I'm Sukuna. Pleasure to meet you."

As you take his hand, the tattoos on his knuckles shift his grip tightens around yours - not painfully, but firm enough to remind you of his power. His eyes pull you even more into their glow of dangerous fire as his gaze burns into you. It's as if his dangerous allure is wrapped in a subtle layer of charm. Something about his gaze - clearly dangerous, yet strangely reassuring - wraps around you in a cloak of tension that you are unsure is in your head or real.

"Um, yeah... nice to meet you! I didn't realize I was so interesting," you reply, trying to hide your current apprehension as your voice catches up with the marathon your mind is currently racing.

With a knowing wink and a subtle tilt of his head toward Toji, Sukuna grins and responds, "You have no idea."

"Don't scare her off, Sukuna," Toji rolls his eyes. "She's too good for your usual crowd."

"What's the fun in that?" Sukuna grunts in amusement. He takes a slow, deliberate breath as if resetting himself and leans back against the table behind him. "Y'know I'm just playin', right?" he asks, and you nod "Anyway, Toji's protective of you. It's interesting. And I make it a habit to know everyone worth knowing. So welcome to Sigma Pi, sweetheart."

"Oh, yeah," you chuckle lightly, trying to keep a casual tone to hide your nerves. "He's really like a brother to me. But thank you for the warm welcome!"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at your response, then crosses his arms as he speaks. "Heard from a little birdy you don't like the Zen'in's prized boy much?"

Your stomach tightens at the mention of him, the alcohol in your hand tempting you. "Oh- um, no. He's not my favorite. Kinda tormented me throughout high school, and he made it difficult to avoid him," you say. "But I'm not too worried about him anymore."

"Good. That parasite has more ego than brains," Sukuna grumbles, swirling the contents of his flask before taking a long sip. With a scowl - not at the taste of the expensive whiskey, but at the thought of the conversation's new topic - he continues, "Spoiled little daddy's boy is worse than a cockroach. At least they're useful in some ecosystems."

You nod slightly as the weight of his words linger. However, your curiosity is piqued, and you cannot help yourself from questioning, "Yeah... what did he do to you?"

Sukuna's face hardens for a moment, eyes narrowing as he glares at the floor with a cold intensity. "Fucking rat bothered my little brother. Pisses me off," he says, voice low, like a rumble under the earth's crust. The flicker of anger quickly dissipates as he takes another sip from his flask. You figure that is the most information you'll get out of him.

Regardless, before you can get a word in, he continues, "Tell you what: If Zen'in bothers you, I'll make sure he regrets it. Consider it a personal favor." He abruptly kicks off of the table he leaned against, towering over you for a moment as he pats your shoulder with a surprising gentleness. "I have shit to do now, so gotta go. Enjoy the party, darling."

After he exits, you look to Toji in confusion. “He’s not kidding, y’know,” Toji says quietly, speaking just to you. You feel the weight of his words as each one leaves his mouth. “Sukuna hates that guy. Naoya stepped on the wrong toes freshman year to try and piss me off, and it’s been downhill for him ever since.”

You take a slow sip of your seltzer, letting the carbonation fizzle out on your tongue. “What happened?”

“Bitch Boy thought he could act like a Zen’in with Sukuna’s people." Toji's tone is an odd mixture of disdain and amusement. "Tried to throw his weight around - didn’t go so well. Sukuna doesn’t tolerate cocky rich kids acting like they own the world. Almost ended in a fistfight.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost,” Toji replies, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sukuna’s smarter than that. He’s not gonna get his hands dirty unless it’s worth it. But trust me, he’s been waiting for the right moment.”

"Why is he vowing to protect me? What did I do?" your anxiousness rises to the surface, confused about what just happened and lost as to what it means.

"Don't worry 'bout it, doll. Sukuna does his own thing. He's my best friend, and he confuses me daily," Toji laughs, but you can tell there's something he is holding back. What is it he's not telling you?

Before you can think too much about it, you are silently returned to your friends. Toji lingers with your group, posture relaxed as he stands beside you and leans against the wall. You stand beside him and copy his pose while glancing at your friends scattered about the lounge room. You raise a questioning eyebrow as you notice your replacement, Shiu having taken your spot on the bean bag. She returns your look with her own knowing one - screaming excitement at the boy she is wrapped around.

Mei's eyes twinkle at you with curiosity. She leans forward toward you, desperate for information she is about to dig out of you. "So what was that all about?"

"Just meeting the president, y'know," you wave off her question in an attempt to sound casual. Your friends, however, know you better than that.

Or, maybe, your friends, except for Yu.

"Of the United States? Or...?" Yu stares at you with wide eyes, entirely confused. It's cute how innocent he is; he never fails to make you smile.

Suguru, sitting beside him, groans in frustration. He grabs a pillow from behind him and smacks it against Yu's head, earning a chuckle from Shiu. "Of the frat, dumbass," he mutters.

Your friends are clearly waiting for you to share details of wherever Toji just took you to. Hesitant and looking for another subject to take their attention, your eyes flicker amongst your friends. "Where did Satoru go?" you seize an opportunity to potentially distract them, although you know you are just putting off the conversation.

"Getting me another beer," Shoko answers as she crosses her legs beneath her as she leans back comfortably, always so effortlessly confident.

"Ah, your little minion?" Toji teases, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips.

"Nah, he's more like your girl's minion," Suguru answers, which earns a round of laughter from everyone.

"Guys," you whine, your face flushing. "Stop it! Why does everyone keep calling me Toji's girl?"

"I guess I claimed you," he laughs with a sly grin. "What was that you said about me being like a brother? Did ya mean step-brother?"

The room erupts with laughter, and in a sudden burst embarrassment, you sharply elbow him in the side. "Oh, fuck you."

"Uh-huh, that wouldn't be very sisterly of you," the boy smirks, finding the entire situation amusing. He is clearly loving getting a reaction out of you, though the look in his eyes is fondness directed to you.

"You know what I mean! You've said it too! Seriously, I'm not sure where everyone gets these ideas," exasperated, you raise a palm to your forehead, shaking your head at their jests. You're unsure as why you even bother defending yourself when you know it will make them tease you more. "I don't even know why I try."

"I know, ma," Toji squeezes your shoulder, his expression softening slightly as he smiles down at you. "You know I'm just messing with you.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you sigh.

Sensing your genuine frustration, Utahime shifts the topic back to the Sukuna conversation. "What's he like?" she asks.

You pause for a second to gather your thoughts. "Definitely... memorable. Intimidating, for sure," you smile at the thought of his unnerving charm. "He definitely has a... presence. Like everyone knows when he walks into a room."

The conversation drifts for a moment before you continue to elaborate, "But he was just asking about Naoya. He seems pretty invested in that whole... situation."

"I'm back! Did you all miss me?" Satoru's voice interrupts, appearing beside you with a couple beers in his hand. He tosses one across the room to Shoko, who catches it effortlessly, immediately reprimands him for his actions that shook the can up.

"You trying to make me kill you?" she asks as she opens it regardless of it's fizziness with a passive-aggressive roll of her eyes.

"Nah, I would only do that to Utahime," he pokes. Utahime is too busy making out with Shiu to respond, but she lifts her middle finger in his direction, making everyone laugh.

Satoru cracks open the other beer for himself. and leans on you, resting an elbow on your shoulder. "Sorry for the hold up, I know you all were waiting for my return," he says ever-so-seriously.

"Oh, for sure," you prod.

"Don't sound so disappointed," he teases back, his voice light and carefree. "I saw you were getting all the attention without me to steal it from you. You're welcome for the fifteen minutes of fame, by the way."

Suguru, laughing, nudges Toji beside him. "Guess she didn't mind the attention. Pretty sure it's mostly from your 'minion' over there, though."

"Minion? I'm no minion!" Satoru whines, going on a tangent about how he is an independent man. "I am free-spirited, and I make my own choices. I don't follow anyone's orders!"

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not buying his ruse. "Yeah, because you totally didn't go get beer because Shoko threatened you and you're lowkey scared of her."

He points at you, mock-serious. "Exactly! You get it. I choose to help her. It's not a job, it's a lifestyle. I am just a philanthropic, giving person."

Shoko looks up at him with a smirk. "Yeah, well, your 'lifestyle' shakes up every can of beer in the process."

"Oh, please. I'm just making sure it's extra fizzy for you," he winks and raises his can in a toast to her.

The group laughs, and the lighthearted teasing continues as Satoru takes another exaggerated swig from his beer.

It's going to be an entertaining night for sure.

-----

The air in the frat’s basement is thick from the sounds of music blaring from the speakers and the hum of chattering voices. The basement has been transformed into a chaotic party zone: neon lights pulse in time with the beat, flashing shades of green, red, blue, yellow, and every other color you can imagine. Forgotten red solo cups litter the tables and floor, the ground sticky and clinging to your shoes. The scent of cheap beer mingles with a faint trace of something stronger. College students spill out into every available space, laughing and moving to the rhythm as someone shouts over the music, trying to rally the crowd for another round of beer pong.

Sukuna stands near the entrance, scanning the scene with an intimidating gaze, looking entirely unfazed by the madness around him. He’s chatting with a few brothers manning the door, ensuring everything is going smoothly.

Toji, who's posture effortlessly cool, is leaning against one of the basement’s concrete pillars, his eyes hidden behind his pointless dark shades, despite the dim lighting. Shiu and another fraternity brother stand beside him, chatting about random things as they people-watch. his arms are crossed as he surveys the room. His ever-watchful gaze, however, seems to soften whenever it lands on you, a subtle, almost imperceptible softness behind the usual cool facade.

Mei is nearby, already indulging in a drink and laughing with Kento. Her voice rings out above the music, easily heard thanks to her loud, infectious laughter. As expected from her extroverted personality, she has already made a few new friends and seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself, currently pulling Suguru into a spontaneous, uncharacteristically animated dance that’s more playful than serious. Yu, of course, is in his element, somehow managing to avoid getting caught up in anything too intense, but having fun regardless. He’s chatting with a classmate he's never talked to before tonight near the punch bowl, a slight flush on his cheeks from whatever jungle juice concoction is in the cup he’s holding.

The bass from the music thuds in your chest as the crowd of students swirl around, their conversations rising and falling in chaotic harmony. You, however, feel oddly detached from the rowdy noise, your attention more focused on the space next to you - Satoru.

As you take a sip of your drink, he leans closer, and his usual carefree expression softens in the low light. "You alright?" he asks, voice barely audible over the pounding bass.

"Yeah, don't worry," you try your best to give him a happy, convincing smile, but from the quirk of his brow, you can tell he doesn't believe you. After a sip from your drink, you continue, "I just.. I guess I just have a weird feeling."

Satoru eyes you for a moment, an almost unreadable expression on his face. The playful demeanor he usually carries melts away as a more thoughtful side of him replaces it. "What kinda weird feeling?" he presses. His head tilts in curiosity as he watches you.

You shrug, unsure of how to respond. You glance around the basement, at the sea of bodies, the noise, and the flashing lights. "I dunno. I feel like something's about to happen. Everything's been going too smoothly for me, y'know? Like... the calm before the storm, or something."

Satoru watches you for a moment, his gaze intense despite the lighthearted vibe of the party you are at. His lips press into a thin line, pensiveness obvious in his brow. His eyes flick to the crowd as you watch him process your words, then return to your face. "Huh," he leans back against the black cinderblock wall behind him, mulling over your words. "It's weird how humans work. When everything seems perfect, and your gut tells you it's gonna go sideways."

You nod, relieved by the comfort of his understanding. "I can feel that," Satoru says after a beat, his tone suddenly more serious. "But hey," he adds, flashing his signature grin that you've grown to admire. "If something's gonna happen, we can handle it. Together, hm?" he bumps his shoulder against yours, an subtle effort to reassure you. "If anything, you'll be the one saving me."

You smile, shaking your head, tension in your chest easing incrementally. "Yeah, right. Because I'm known for being the hero," you roll your eyes and give him an incredulous look.

His grin widens, the familiar cocky edge to his voice returning in full force. "Don't underestimate yourself. You save me from my own stupidity every time you look at me like that" he winks, but there's something about the way he says it - soft, yet teasing - that makes you feel more grounded.

Your heart skips a beat as you study his face, and for the moment, the party fades away into the background. The noise around you is deafening, but with him next to you, and all of his attention on you, it feels like you are in your own little world: just you and Satoru. The weight of the chaotic energy that previously overwhelmed you now feels less oppressive. "You are impossible, Satoru Gojo," you murmur, but there is no real bite to your words.

"Impossible? Nah," Satoru grins widely. "Too charming for my own good? Potentially. But hey, if it makes you feel better, I can keep letting you think you're the one saving me. Keep the little illusion alive for ya."

"Wow, thanks, man. I really believed it for a second there," you say stoically.

Satoru playfully bumps his shoulder into your own again, enjoying the back-and-forth between the two of you. Suddenly, he leans closer, having to bend to reach your ear. As he speaks, Satoru's voice droops lower, just loud enough to hear over the music when he says, "I mean it, though. You have no idea how much you ground me."

You swallow, surprised at the sincerity that keeps slipping through his typically unserious exterior. No jokes, no smart-aleck comments - just honesty.

"I'm just trying to match your vibe. You make it hard to stay serious for too long," you respond, your voice a bit more timid, making Satoru chuckle.

His hand moves to rest against the wall behind you as he leans his body against it, shifting closer and crossing his legs. Your entire body is facing his, his towering stature smirking down at you. "That's kinda my thing. But I can let you win this one time, I guess. Just remember," he bends down even closer, eyes sparkling mischievously, "that you're the one keeping us in check." His words hand in the air, the playful tone exciting you, but his proximity to you making you nervous for some reason.

You shake your head, laughing at how easy it is to fall in rhythm with him. "Mhm. I'm not buying it anymore. You, letting someone else take control? Impossible," you poke his chest, trying to stay lighthearted despire the strange weight in your chest you feel from his words.

He taps your shoulder gently with his beer can, a move both casual and endearing. "You should believe me," he says with a shrug, voice full of unshakable confidence. "Let me put it this way: I'm good at pretending, but you're good at seeing through it. That's what makes you different. It makes me want to be better, more like you. You ground me, and therefore, you ground us. So yes, take the reins, angel."

The words are simple, but they resonate within your mind, and you find yourself lost in their meaning. "Well," you breathe out, "guess we'll keep making each other better, huh?"

Satoru stares at you, his smile returning with something more real behind it. "Together," he softly agrees and nudges you once more.

"Together," you smile. "Now what was that about you pretending?"

"Oh, you know, just gotta keep up the classic Gojo facade," he smiles, but a hint of apprehension is behind it.

"For who?" you ask the question he has asked himself his entire life up to this point.

"For anyone who needs to see the Gojo they expect," he says, a playful edge in his voice. He chuckles softly to himself, then flicks to his wrist as if to dismiss the thought. "People have their assumptions. Expectations, even. My family is historically a... well known one. A lot is expected from me on that end, but also from the world in general. I have a name to live up to. A legacy. And you know me - I like to keep 'em guessing. Piss 'em off for fun."

You study the man in front of you, absorbing his words. Taking the final sip of your drink, you respond, "So, it's all an act then?" It's a genuine question - you're trying to understand where his true self ends and the public persona begins.

You feel a deeper connection forming with the man you speak to, and you wonder if he's ever spoken about this with anyone else. You know he has Suguru, Yu, and Kento, but you are unsure how deep their conversations dive. What if he has been fostering all of these thoughts for decades now with no one to express them too? Just that thought makes you sad; not in a pitiful way, but in an understanding way. How it feels to be alone, to feel hopeless - these are not new feelings for you.

His expression softens as he watches you think. "Not an act," he mutters, almost to himself. "More like... a shield. A way to keep people at a distance. It's easier that way." He looks back at you with a serious gaze. "It's hard to let people in. To let them see everything. So, I keep it light. Keeps it fun, and keeps the pressure off."

"Is that why you wear those glasses all the time, even in dark basements in the middle of the night?" you dig.

"Yeah, I guess. They do say eyes are the window to the soul," he affirms. Satoru takes a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth and continues, "Sometimes, if I'm being honest, I feel like a fraud. I don't deserve my family's legacy, and honestly, I don't want it. But I have no choice, really."

You sense the vulnerability in his words, the quiet admission that's not often seen from him. "You don't always have to keep up the front with me, you know," you say softly, your voice sincere as ever. "You don't have to pretend."

He looks at you for a long moment. "Maybe not, but old habits die hard, I guess." He shrugs, as if the topic itself is too complicated to dive into, but the warmth in his eyes betrays the nonchalant front.

Not knowing how to respond, a brief silence stretches between you two, but it's not an uncomfortable one. If anything, it feels like a quiet understanding has settled, deeper than the usual playful banter that has defined your relationship.

"You know," he adds, smile returning full force. "You're the only one who I can drop the act around and actually mean it. The more I think about it, I've never really had to pretend around you."

The smile on your face is impossible to hide. "I'll take that as a compliment," you tease, and tap his nose in an affectionate gesture. The motion feels softer, more intimate, than any interaction before.

"Take it however you want," he grins, "just know I mean every word."

Suguru suddenly appears beside you. "Sorry to ruin the moment, guys, but Shoko requires you both for a pong tournament." His smile is mockingly apologetic, clearly enjoying his mild disruption. You look across the room to see Shoko staring at you, smiling and giving you a thumbs up.

And with that, the bubble protecting you and Satoru from the rest of the world is popped, and reality is shoved in your face at full force.

Satoru, however, is unbothered like always. His grin shifts into something more playful as he raises his hand in mock surrender. "Guess we're being summoned, eh?" he chuckles. Yet when he glances at you, you see a flicker of something deeper, something unspoken, behind his eyes. And you know that the conversation that abruptly came to its end will stay with him for a while.

Trying to shake off the lingering heaviness, you take a breath to steady yourself. "Guess so," you say, voice uncharacteristically pensive as the meanings behind Satoru's words reverberate in your mind. You almost feel unsteady on your feet, as if the gravity of the conversation and its undercurrents have left you with an odd sense of imbalance.

Satoru giggles, a sound that is more music to your ears than anything the shitty DJs could ever play. Straightening his posture and pushing away from the wall in one fluid motion, his hand brushes against yours in a fleeting, but purposeful, touch, before he bounces toward Suguru playfully.

Shaking your head, you follow them toward the ping-pong table, the sudden noise and energy of the party swallowing you up again. The music grows louder, the chatter around you intensifies, and flashing lights seem more vivid than ever now that you've had a taste of Satoru's inner mind. Even in a room full of people, you feel like there’s a quiet understanding between you two, something that hasn’t been said aloud but doesn’t need to be; it is undeniably there. It’s in the way he looks at you, in the softness that he allows himself around you. It’s a connection, one that feels real amidst all the chaos and is enlightened through subtle, fragile intimacy.

Fuck. You like him. A lot.

-----

The party is chaos indeed: when Shoko and you beat Suguru and Satoru in the most competitive round of beer pong the world has ever seen, Shoko exuberantly stands on the folding table to announce her victory. The sight of her struggling to maintain her balance is, of course, a disaster waiting to happen. Her balance wavers, and she falls backwards in what you swear is a slow motion scene right out of one of those cheesy rom coms - Kento catches her just in time, ensuring a safe landing.

"Sho down! I repeat: Sho is down!" you exclaim dramatically to Mei Mei and Utahime, who sit behind your game, gossiping away, oblivious to the scene in front of them. They burst into laughter at the spectacle.

Clearly delighted by the turn of events, Mei grins widely, but Utahime just shakes her head, her face a picture of exasperation. "Leave it to Shoko," she huffs, but there is a clear warmth in her tone.

As if delivering a grand performence, Satoru smirks and walks around the table to stand beside you. "Nice one, Shoko. Real nice," he says, voice light with amusement.

"Fuck you, I almost died," Shoko cries out. The alcohol has definitely amplified her emotions, and now she is crying into Kento's shoulder. With wide eyes, he stiffly turns his head to you as if to silently beg for help, but you, Mei, and Utahime simply shrug and look the other way. She can be his problem for now, yours back at the suites.

But then, you feel the energy in the room shift. You don't immediately register it - the voices growing louder, as if everyone is simultaneously asking the same question. You do notice, however, the way everyone keeps glancing at the entrance. And when you glance over, you see the one thing you hoped to avoid for the rest of your life.

Naoya Zen'in.

"The fuck is he doin' here?"

Good question, Toji!

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

TAGLIST (currently open!):

@kentozwife @inthedarkshadows000 @yoimiya-m @makeshiftproject @frogfishie

@therealanxiety @kaged-kitty @pellucid-constellations @fuckisthatahotghost

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@sorenflyinn @raquel12 @ermbehindyou @bxnfire @muli-wam

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

gojo def mews and thinks it s funny as fuck and suguru just looks at him like

k thats all thx for reading <3 proud of this one and had SM fun writing it ENJOYY

[hitomisuzuya]

Part 3 of ? Gamer! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Pussy drunk Scara. Some humor. Childe is in this to.

As promised. Everyone, I am sorry about my mini freak out. You all have been so wonderful and supportive. I feel a lot better, and will respond to comments when I finish typing this.

It had taken a lot of coaxing, and a lot of bribing with sweet purrs and even sweeter sweets, but you finally relented to Scaramouche. It was you in the driver's seat tonight, live streaming playing Five Nights at Freddy's instead of him.

You gave polite thank yous to the ones watching when they saw certain things on the cameras, and navigated your way through the first 2 nights without much incident.

Without much incident that anyone knew of anyways. Because what everyone didn't know is that Scaramouche was underneath his computer desk, completely hidden from view with his tongue lapping at your cunt.

His eyes were intently focused on your face, his eyes narrowed into a glare of concentration. No matter how hard he'd fucked you the last time, you just didn't mess up no matter what.

As hot as it was, it also frustrated him. You usually liked watching, and he could show off for you. Yet, whenever you yourself played, you found some way to do better than he did.

It was quite remarkable actually. And it made him feel proud, honestly. Scaramouche was always an interesting mix of emotions. An absolute powder keg.

He brushed his fingers teasingly on your inner thighs. It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back any noises of pleasure. He swirled his tongue around your clit, smirking when you had to clamp a hand over your mouth, trying to play it off as fright because it was a horror game.

Your cheeks were starting to flush. Scaramouche swept his tongue inside of you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from how good you tasted. He muffled a groan into your cunt, his breath shaky as it vibrated over your clit.

You covered up your moan with a cough behind your hand. The hand that had been in your lap found the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your cunt, fidgeting as you tried to roll your hips up into his mouth without seeming out of the ordinary.

He held your cunt against his mouth, latching his lips around your clit. The tip of his tongue worked ruthlessly over the throbbing bud as he sucked. Your thighs trembled in pleasure. "H-Holy fuck," You suddenly stammered, closing your thighs against the sides of his head.

Someone must've said something about the game, Scaramouche heard you press a key, enjoying your slightly delayed reaction when he swept his tongue inside of you.

"Th-thank you, Childe. I see Foxy now," Scaramouche rolled his eyes, prodding the tip of his tongue against your clit, snickering into your cunt when you squeaked in pleasure. Of course Childe would be watching, that ginger shithead seemed awfully comfortable being so chatty with you.

Night 3 stretched into Night 5

Scaramouche could feel from the way your walls were clamping consistently around his tongue that you were close to cumming. This boy was a master of building up toe curling slow orgasms.

Now he was wishing your mic was muted, because it was getting harder for him to hold back his moans. You tasted fucking incredible. He swirled and lapped his tongue between your walls, gliding his tongue back up to kitten lick your clit.

Your fingernails dug into his scalp, your eyes darting around on the screen, struggling to hold back tears of pleasure welling into your eyes. Your excuses for why you were suddenly acting out of ordinary were sounding dumber and dumber. Scaramouche appreciated how fast you came up with them though.

His favorite was you thought you had a fever. He actually snorted when he heard that one. Yeah, a fever of his warm spit and tongue between your legs.

You grit your teeth. You didn't see Freddy in usual place anymore. This was the critical part of the game. One you just couldn't do right now. Scaramouche was being absolutely ruthless with his tongue.

"I-I'm sorry, everyone. I need to step.." You took a breath, feeling Scaramouche tap your hips impatiently. You hadn't messed up, but this outcome was also desirable. "..away from the stream for a few moments," Childe having to see you lose your composure because you needed him to cum so badly made you taste even sweeter somehow. (Impossible)

You paused the stream, and the game. Muting his mic and turning the camera off, you tossed his headset onto his desk. "Ah God, I can't do it anymore. Make me cum Scara, please!" You pleaded, rolling your hips needily into his mouth.

"That's my good slut," Scaramouche groaned in bliss, his cock throbbing and straining hard in his jeans. "Needing to stop the stream to beg me to cum, what a desperate whore," You cried out loudly, your clit throbbing as his tongue ruthlessly lapped at it.

It took a few firm sucks to your clit before you squirted onto his tongue. He soaked in every last shameless moan. It was intoxicating to him to taste you while he watched you come undone.

Twitching, you collapsed back into his chair, panting while he lapped up your release. When he was satisfied, Scaramouche pushed his computer chair back and slid out from underneath the table.

He curled his fingers underneath your chin, capturing your lips in a heated, passionate kiss as he turned the webcam back on. Feast your eyes on that, Childe! You even moaned loudly into his mouth when he unmuted the mic.

Scaramouche had waited on purpose to wipe his mouth after he pulled away. He looked right at the camera and said, "Sorry everyone, I'll be cumming inside of her now. I dunno if she will be able to make it back for the rest of the stream."

He cut the stream off entirely right in the middle of Childe asking if he could watch.

[sturniolowhore]

Not Now

Pairing: semi!toxic!chris x fem!reader

Summary: You are at Jake's party, and you see a bunch of familiar faces, but you also run into your ex, Chris. You try to avoid him, but you always felt his presence.

Warnings: Use of y/n (sorry), angst (if you squint), fluff

a/n: Based on this ask. Divider by @issysh3ll. I don’t want anyone to copy my work or use it as “inspiration.” 03

A couple days after you went to get coffee at La La Land with Jake and Tara, you were in your closet trying to figure out what you were going to wear to Jake's party. You let out a huff as you grab a mini skirt and a black tank top. You drop them on your bed as you walk over to your vanity and do your makeup and hair. After you finish, you put on the outfit you laid out, and grab a purse that goes. You pick out a pair of boots and slip them on. You then put your phone, a lipgloss, and your wallet in your purse. You walk out the door and get into your car, and drive to Jake's house.

When you get to Jake's house, thee door is already open and you see Carrington pouring liquor into the ice luge they got. You watch as most of the liquor goes into Jake's nose and all over his face.

"What the fuck dude? That got in my nose!" Jake yells as you giggle. "Oh y/n, your here!" He screams waving to you.

You wave back with a smile on your face, still giggling.

"Wanna try?" Carrington offers and waves you over.

"Um.. sure.." You say hesitantly. You walk over to them and you tilt your head and open your mouth. Carrington pours the liquor in your mouth and you close your eyes as you feel the liquor fall into your mouth. You feel the liquid drip all over your face, but you were here to get drunk and try and forget about the person who's been on your mind the most.

You cough and lift your head back up, and Carrington stops pouring.

"You okay?" He says, smiling.

"Yeah.. How do yo guys do that almost every party?" You ask

"We're just having fun, what can I say?" He says, pouring some of the drink they made a few hours earlier into a cup. "Here, try this. Jakes calling it ectoplasma when is really should be ectoplasm. Ectoplasma isn't even a thing." He says shrugging his shoulders.

You take the cup from his and reluctantly take a sip. You face lights up as you drink more until you finish the cup.

"Woah slow down. It's not that good, is it?"

"Oh, it's good, one of the best you guys have made so far." You say, pouring yourself another cup.

“Okay.. you don’t need more” Carrington says taking the cup out of your hand and taking a sip. He winks and goes to greet some people who had just arrived.

You follow him, and see Chris standing with Nick. You groan and turn the other way, looking for Jake, Tara or any of your other friends, but you can’t find anyone. You feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around to see Nick.

“Hey girl.. I heard what happened with Chris. He was being fucking stupid and I can’t really say anything on his behalf but like.. he’s sorry.” Nick says

“Oh.. I don’t know if I’m ready to date him again.” You say, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Nick asks, tilting his head

“It’s not just when he yelled at me, it’s also other things he does. Like he just runs around the house for no reason and he’s loud sometimes especially when I’m tired and he can’t take any hints. Also, he ignores me half the time. He's too scared to announce to anyone that we're dating and it just pisses me off. I'm getting tired of the same bullshit over and over." You explain.

“Oh yeah he pisses me off when he just runs around the house. As for the other stuff.. I've seen it too.” Nick says.

“Yeah.. I’m gonna go get a drink.” You say making your way over to the drinks.

Nick nods his head as he watches you walk away.

You take a deep breath at the counter. You pour yourself a drink and down the entire cup. You pour another cup as Tara appears behind you.

"Oh hey where were you?" You ask Tara.

"Oh I was outside, Chase and Troy are setting up the keg stand. Wanna try it?" She asks.

"Yeah, no I've tried that once already I think I'm good." You say, rejecting her offer.

"Suit yourself." She says, shrugging. "Hey.. I saw you talking to Nick, what did he say?"

"He just said that Chris was sorry and that he was being a dumbass. I told him that I don't think that I'm ready to date him again." You tell her.

"Oh good for you girl." She says, a smile on her face.

"Yeah, I guess I'm finally getting over him even though I broke up with him. It's complicated." You say, returning the smile.

Time skip

After the party, you help Jake, Johnnie, Carrington and Tara clean up. Jake offers for you to stay the night, and you accept. Why not stay over? You were drunk and couldn't really drive, and you didn't feel like calling an uber.

"Hey do you have any clothes I could borrow?" You ask Jake.

"Oh yeah take anything from my closet." He says, wiping down the counter in the kitchen.

"Okay." You go upstairs and take out a pair of sweats and a shirt. You sigh and go back downstairs, and go to the guest bedroom. You were sharing the room with Tara, since she was also staying over. You turn off the lights and get into bed. You lay your head down on the pillow and fall asleep to the only person who could help you sleep on nights like this, Chris.

🏷️: @brookheartsmatt @slutf4rmatt @strnilolover @charlottee3 @leahsmain88

[honeyncherry]

Through the Looking Glass - One

Rafe Cameron x Reader

content: drinking, tension (rafe likes to look at you)

word count: 6k

prologue

The last time you set foot in a new school, you were nine years old. Your father had sent you off to a prestigious boarding school halfway across the country. Though it wasn’t a school, not really. It was more like a factory, cold and unyielding, designed to shape children from high-profile government families into the next generation of leaders and operatives. The halls were filled with future politicians, intelligence agents, and power brokers. Each was more intense, more cutthroat, and more determined than the last.

Breaks were a luxury you couldn’t afford. The instructors were strict to the point of being merciless, expecting perfection and punishing anything less. The curriculum was relentless, grinding you down and reshaping you into something sharp and efficient. There were no sleepovers or giggling with friends, no carefree afternoons in the park. Just drills, evaluations, and endless expectations. You learned quickly how to suppress your emotions, to quiet the part of you that wanted to cry or rebel. 

You became what they wanted: disciplined, composed, and ready to take orders. But walking onto the University of North Carolina’s campus felt like stepping into another universe. 

The differences were staggering, almost surreal. Where the boarding school had been rigid and sterile, UNC was alive, teeming with energy and freedom. Some students sprawled out on blankets under monstrous oak trees, laughing and playing games of spikeball in the sunshine, while others sat in their own study groups more focused on gossiping about who was interested in whom than working on their essays.

The buildings, their brick facades draped in ivy, stood proud yet inviting, as though welcoming you into a new chapter of your life. It was a world you’d only ever viewed from a distance, in movies or fleeting glimpses during missions. It felt chaotic, free, and utterly alien to you.

UNC wasn’t just one of the country’s top business schools; it was also renowned for its vibrant social scene. Greek Row was the epicenter of it all, alive with parties that raged late into the night, music spilling into the streets. On game days, tailgates transformed the campus into a sprawling festival, with canopies, kegs, and mini grills crowding every open space. Each weekend brought something new to celebrate, another excuse to gather and let loose. It was a world you could barely imagine fitting into, let alone navigating by yourself.

But you didn’t have to imagine. You’d been preparing for this moment for nearly a year. From the second the case file landed on your desk, you’d immersed yourself in everything UNC had to offer. You memorized its culture, its traditions, and even its most recent scandals. You knew which bars on Franklin Street were the most popular on Thursday nights, which fraternity houses held the most exclusive parties, and which sororities had the most influence. You even learned the best shortcuts through campus, routes that would let you avoid campus police or slip away unnoticed.

Your apartment was a short ten-minute walk from the heart of campus. On the surface, it seemed ordinary: a modest brick complex tucked away on a quiet, tree-lined street. But as you approached, the details stood out. The doorman, Johnny, was the first clue. He wasn’t just a friendly face stationed at the entrance — he was part of the agency, placed there to keep an eye on you. Whether his presence was meant to protect you or monitor you was unclear, but it didn’t matter. Either way, it offered a small sense of security in an otherwise unsettling situation.

Johnny greeted you with a polite nod as you entered, his expression neutral. You returned the gesture with a tight smile, the kind that didn’t reach your eyes. It wasn’t personal; you simply couldn’t afford to let your guard down. Not here. Not yet.

The elevator ride to the third floor was quiet, the soft hum of the machinery filling the space. When the doors slid open, you stepped into a hallway lined with neutral-toned carpeting and soft overhead lighting. Your apartment was at the end of the hall. The space was small but well-appointed, with sleek, modern furniture, warm lighting, and a fully stocked kitchen. It looked nothing like the cramped dorms you’d read about in your research, where freshmen shared tiny rooms and whispered secrets late into the night. 

You set your bag down just inside the door, taking a moment to absorb your surroundings. This was it. Your new life. For the next semester you wouldn’t be the girl forged in the cold, unyielding halls of your past. You’d become a confident, ambitious, college girl who blended seamlessly into this bright, chaotic world. 

The girl who walked into this apartment was no longer a government agent’s daughter or a product of a childhood spent in the shadows of high-stakes operations. She was a girl who went to all the football games and studied on the quad. Someone who danced under neon lights at Sigma Chi parties and laughed too loudly with friends in the library.

At least, that’s who you needed to be.

You crossed the room and pulled open the blinds, letting the golden light of the setting sun flood the space. From here, you could see the edges of campus. Students moved in clusters, their voices carrying faintly through the evening air. Somewhere out there, Rafe Cameron was waiting.

You’d seen his face a hundred times in the photos tucked inside his dossier. From the cocky smirk, the piercing blue eyes, the sleek buzzed blonde hair, it was all etched into your memory. You knew his routines, his weaknesses, his tells. You’d studied him like a final exam, preparing for the moment you’d meet him in person. Yet, as you stared out at the campus, a knot of unease twisted in your stomach.

Because no amount of training could prepare you for what came next. This wasn’t just another assignment you sat on the sidelines of, watching every move, critiquing every wrong step. It was your very own assignment. The decade long case you were meant to crack. And this was Rafe Cameron, the key to the entire operation.

You let out a slow breath, your fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill. The world outside seemed so vibrant, so full of life, but you knew better than to get swept up in it. This wasn’t about fun or freedom. It was about the mission. The stakes were too high to let anything distract you.

You turned away from the window, the sound of your sandals clicking softly against the polished wood floors as you moved back toward your bag. Somewhere deep inside, a flicker of doubt tried to take hold, but you pushed it down. You couldn’t afford doubt.

Brooke O’Brien was UNC’s very own Barbie doll. The kind of girl who seemed almost too perfect, her presence glowing with an effortless charisma that felt more polished than natural. Maybe it was her blonde curls and doll-like hazel eyes, or the way she lit up every room she entered with an energy that was both magnetic and overwhelming. Either way, she was someone people both admired and envied in equal measure.

To you, Brooke was… a lot. Too much, maybe. But that didn’t matter. She was your way in. If there was one person you needed to befriend, it was Brooke O’Brien.

When you saw her crossing the quad toward you, waving enthusiastically, you braced yourself. Her dazzling smile and quick pace made it seem like nothing could stop her.

“Wow!” she called out, her voice ringing through the crowd. “It’s so great to finally meet you!”

Before you could react, she had thrown her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. Caught off guard, you hesitated for only a moment before hugging her back. If she was this excited, then so were you. Or at least, that’s what you had to make her believe.

“Totally,” you said, pulling back with your best gleaming smile. “Everyone here already seems so friendly.”

Brooke’s laugh was light and airy, the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh along even if you didn’t know what was funny. “Oh, honey, you don’t even know! UNC is, like, the friendliest place on Earth. You’re going to love it here, I promise.”

She slipped her arm through yours without hesitation, as though you’d been best friends for years, and began guiding you across the quad. Her energy was infectious, and you found yourself grateful for how easy she made it to keep up the act.

“So,” she said, turning her head to study you, “first impressions? Be honest.”

“It’s... a lot,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping over the bustling campus. “But in a good way.”

Brooke beamed. “That’s what I like to hear! College is supposed to be a lot. It’s all about finding yourself, you know? And trust me, UNC is the perfect place for that.”

You smiled politely, wondering if the line about "finding yourself" was something she said to everyone or if she actually believed it. Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by her enthusiasm.

As she gestured toward a row of buildings, pointing out the arts building and student union, she glanced at you curiously. “So, tell me about your last school. What was it like?”

The question was casual, but your stomach tightened all the same. You’d been preparing for this, practicing your answers until they felt natural, but it was still unnerving to hear it aloud. “Oh, it was... fine,” you said with a small shrug. “A lot smaller than this. Not as lively.”

Brooke tilted her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “Really? Where’d you go again?”

“Uh, Hawthorne College,” you said, dropping the name of the small liberal arts school the agency had assigned to your cover story. “It was nice, but it didn’t really feel like the right fit.”

Brooke nodded knowingly. “Oh, I totally get that. Sometimes you just need a fresh start, you know? That’s what I love about UNC — it’s, like, impossible not to find your people here.”

You nodded along, grateful that she didn’t press further. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“You will,” Brooke said firmly, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “College is all about reinventing yourself. I mean, when I got here, I was, like, so shy. Couldn’t even raise my hand in class without turning bright red.”

You raise an eyebrow, struggling to imagine Brooke as anything less than radiant and self-assured. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe not that shy,” she admits with a laugh. “But still, this college changes you. In the best way. You’ll see.”

As she leads you through the quad, Brooke chats non-stop, pointing out landmarks and weaving in bits of campus gossip like it’s second nature. You nod along, doing your best to look captivated while mentally filing away the information that might actually be useful.

Brooke’s warmth was disarming, a sharp contrast to the cold precision you’d been trained to embody since becoming a pre-teen. For a moment, you wondered if it was genuine or if everyone here wore their own kind of mask. Either way, letting your guard down wasn’t an option, not even with the sweet and charming Brooke O’Brien. Not with so much riding on this. 

“That’s the library,” Brooke says, gesturing toward an imposing brick building covered in ivy. “You’ll spend way too much time there during finals. Oh, and over there—” she points to a cluster of tables shaded by oak trees, “—that’s where the serious study groups hang out. They’re, like, terrifyingly intense. But if you ever need help with a project, that’s the place to go.”

You nod, making a mental note. “Good to know.”

Brooke stops suddenly, spinning to face you with wide eyes. “Wait! I have to introduce you to my favorite place on campus.”

Without waiting for a response, she grabs your hand and pulls you toward a small café tucked into the corner of the quad. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits you as soon as you step inside, and you can’t help but feel a small pang of appreciation. For all her energy, Brooke seems genuinely excited to share this with you.

“Isn’t it cute?” she gushes, gesturing toward the mismatched chairs and cozy lighting. “I swear, their iced caramel macchiatos are life-changing. And if you ever need a good place to study, this is it.”

“Noted,” you say, allowing a small smile to slip through. It’s hard not to truly warm up to her enthusiasm, even if you’re supposed to be keeping people at arm's length.

The two of you grab drinks before heading back outside, and as you settle onto a bench near the quad, Brooke leans in conspiratorially. “Okay, so now that you’ve got the basics, it’s time for the fun stuff.”

You tilt your head, feigning curiosity. “Oh?”

“My friends,” she says with a grin. “You’re going to love them. Well, most of them.”

She launched into a detailed rundown of her friend group as the two of you sat and enjoyed your drinks. You had to admit, the coffee rivaled anything you’d had in the city.

“Okay, so first there’s Maddie, she’s my best friend. She’s super sweet, but, like, don’t get on her bad side. She’ll smile while ripping you to shreds, and you won’t even realize it until it’s too late.”

You chuckled, making a mental note of Maddie’s name.

“Then there’s Sabrina,” Brooke continued. “She’s the fun one. She can make anyone dance, even if they swear they don’t dance. Seriously, she could probably convince a statue to do the Cupid Shuffle.”

You smiled, appreciating the way Brooke’s tone shifted slightly with each new person she described. It was obvious she genuinely cared about them.

“And then there’s Liam,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “He’s... complicated. Kind of a wild card, but in a good way. He’s always down for an adventure. Like, last week, he tried to convince us all to go skydiving. At midnight. I don’t even think that’s legal.”

Your brows lifted. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, he is,” Brooke said with a knowing grin. “But don’t worry. He’s harmless.” She hesitated for a moment, her expression shifting slightly. “And, um, Chase. We’ve been... talking. Kind of.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up slightly. “Talking?”

“Okay, maybe more than talking,” Brooke admitted, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “He’s cute, but, like, he can be so frustrating sometimes. He has this thing where he just disappears for days and then texts me like nothing happened. But whatever. It’s not serious.”

The slight edge in her voice suggested otherwise, but you didn’t press. “He sounds... nice?”

Brooke laughed, rolling her eyes. “He is. When he wants to be.” She paused for a moment, her expression shifting. “And then there’s Rafe.”

Your heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name, but you kept your face carefully neutral. “What’s he like?”

Brooke hesitated, as though searching for the right words. “He’s complicated too. Intense, definitely. But once you get to know him, he’s one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet.”

She took a sip of her drink, her brows knitting together. “Lately, though, he’s been in a mood. Something about a girl he was seeing. But he won’t talk about it. Anyway, he invited everyone to a sports bar tonight, so maybe he’s trying to shake it off.”

You nodded, keeping your expression casual even as your thoughts raced. A girl? That wasn’t in the file. Who was she, and what did she mean to him?

Brooke’s face brightened again, and she reached out to squeeze your arm. “You should come! It’ll be fun, and you can meet everyone.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, feigning reluctance. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Are you kidding?” Brooke laughed. “You’re not intruding. You’re with me now, and trust me, they’ll love you. Besides, I’ll pick you up, so you have no excuse.”

You let out a small laugh, unable to resist her enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Brooke clapped her hands together. “This is going to be so much fun. Text me your address and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

Later that evening, after carefully choosing an outfit, you stood by the window. The campus nightlife flickered to life below, a vibrant pulse that felt both foreign and inviting. When Brooke’s text came through, your breath caught for a moment before you grabbed your bag and headed down.

She waved excitedly as you approached, her pristine convertible parked at an angle, music thumping from the speakers like it was an extension of her energy.

You climbed into the passenger seat with a bright smile and as she pulled away, she launched into another flurry of conversation. This time, it was all about classes, professors, Chase, and her favorite spots on Franklin Street.

“I swear,” she said, shaking her head, “Professor Klein is the worst. Like, don’t even bother trying to win her over. Just turn in your essays on time and pray for a C.”

You laughed, relaxing slightly as Brooke’s chatter filled the car. For all her energy, there was something undeniably comforting about her. It was easy to see how she’d become the center of her friend group — and why she was exactly who you needed on your side.

When the sports bar came into view, its neon lights glowing against the night sky, Brooke turned to you with a grin. “Ready to meet the crew?”

You nodded, your stomach tightening with anticipation. “Let’s do it.”

The moment you stepped inside, the bar thrummed with life, a cacophony of laughter, clinking glasses, and thumping bass. The mingling scents of fried food and beer created a sensory overload that left you slightly off balance 

This was nothing like the polished, controlled environments of stuffy dinners with your father and his colleagues. Here, the chaos was unfiltered: crop tops and cutoff shorts replaced formal evening wear, discount beer flowed from taps instead of martinis, and greasy nachos piled high replaced hors d'oeuvres served on silver platters.

Brooke led the way, weaving through the crowd like she’d done it a hundred times before, her confidence a beacon in the chaos. You followed closely, trying not to bump into too many shoulders as you glanced around, taking it all in. Groups of students laughed loudly, some leaning over the tables to shout above the music, others already swaying slightly from one too many drinks.

“Over here!” Brooke chirped, pointing toward a table in the corner where three people were already seated. As you got closer, you could make out two girls and a guy, all of them mid-conversation and laughing.

“This is them!” Brooke said, practically bouncing on her toes as she gestured to the group. “Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about.”

The girl with dark, pin-straight hair was the first to look up, her sharp look flicking over you before her lips curved into a welcoming smile. “Hey! I’m Sabrina. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” you said, returning the smile as she reached out for a quick handshake. Her grip was warm but firm, and she had this effortless confidence that instantly put you at ease.

The guy beside her leaned back in his chair, his grin easy and a little mischievous as he said, “I’m Liam. You must be the new girl Brooke’s been hyping up.”

You laughed lightly, glancing at Brooke. “I guess so.”

“Don’t worry,” Liam added, raising his beer. “If you can survive Brooke, you’ll fit right in.”

“Shut up, Liam,” Brooke said with a roll of her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “And this,” she added, gesturing toward the last girl at the table, “is Maddie.”

Maddie’s sharp gaze flicked over you, her crossed arms and measured tone making it clear she wasn’t quick to warm up. “Hey,” she said, her words as neutral as her expression.

“Hi,” you replied. Maddie didn’t smile, her silence sharper than words, and you couldn’t help but feel like she was sizing you up.

Brooke patted the seat beside her, breaking the moment. “Come on, sit! I’ll grab us drinks in a second.”

As you slid into the booth, the group’s chatter flowed easily around you. Sabrina asked about your classes, Liam cracked jokes that drew groans from Brooke, and even Maddie softened slightly, her dry humor slipping through now and then.

But as the night went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was missing.

“Where’s Chase?” Brooke asked suddenly, leaning closer to Sabrina and Maddie.

Maddie smirked, tilting her head toward the bar. “Over there. He’s with Rafe.”

Your stomach tightened as you followed her eye line, scanning the crowd until your eyes found them. Chase was easy to spot, leaning against the counter, his grin wide and animated as he chatted with the bartender. He was exactly as you’d seen in the photos: open, carefree, the life of any conversation.

But the man beside him was a different story.

Rafe Cameron was the kind of person whose presence you felt before you saw him. His presence preceded him, tangible and charged, like the static before a storm. He stood at ease, resting his arms on the bartop, his sharp features caught in the dim light that carved shadows along his jawline. When his eyes found yours, it wasn’t a question, it was a statement: I see you.

The air shifted. The sounds of the bar faded into a dull hum. His intensity sent a ripple through you, one you couldn’t quite name. You hadn’t expected this — not from a man you’d studied for months, memorized through pages and pages of official documents. Yet here he was, impossibly real and entirely unsettling.

There was no smile, no casual acknowledgment, just a quiet intensity that felt like it was meant to see past every carefully constructed layer.

“He’s looking at you,” Brooke murmured, her voice low and tinged with amusement as she leaned in closer.

You blinked, breaking the moment as you turned to her. “Who?”

She smirked knowingly, her view flicking back toward the bar. “Rafe. I told you, he’s intense.”

Your pulse quickened as you stole another glance. Rafe was still angled toward you, though his focus had shifted momentarily to Chase, who was speaking beside him. He didn’t respond to whatever Chase had said, his attention half-turned as though occupied by something else entirely.

Brooke’s playful tone broke the spell and you turned your attention back to the table, willing yourself to focus. But even as you smiled and joined the group’s chatter, Rafe’s gaze lingered in your mind like an unfinished thought.

“Okay,” Sabrina said, breaking through your thoughts. “So, tell me… what’s your major?”

You blinked, grateful for the distraction as you turned toward her. “Communications,” you replied, the answer smooth and practiced. “I was studying it at my last school, so it made sense to stick with it here.”

“Smart choice,” Liam chimed in, resting his elbows on the table. “You could probably out-talk all of us, huh?”

“Definitely me,” Brooke interjected with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose an argument, Liam.”

“That’s because I don’t lose,” he said, lifting his beer in mock celebration.

“Oh, please,” Maddie cut in, her tone dry. “You lose all the time. You just don’t know it.”

The group laughed, and you found yourself smiling despite the underlying tension still buzzing in your chest. Sabrina drew closer, her curiosity apparent. “Why communications, though? What’s the endgame?”

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I guess I like the idea of... connecting with people,” you said carefully. “Understanding how they think, how they move and work. How to utilize that to your advantage. It’s fascinating.”

Sabrina nodded, her smile genuine. “I get that. Honestly, it sounds way more interesting than my major. I’m stuck in econ.”

“Econ’s useful,” Liam said, shrugging. “You’ll be the one bailing us all out when we screw up our taxes.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what economics is,” Maddie muttered, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

The conversation flowed easily after that, with Sabrina asking about your transition to UNC and Liam tossing out lighthearted quips that kept the mood buoyant. Even Maddie seemed to loosen up a bit more, though her sharp watch still flicked toward you now and then, like she was assessing your place in the group.

Just as you were beginning to relax, you felt a shift in the air, subtle but undeniable. The energy at the table changed, the noise around you seeming to dim as two familiar figures approached. You glanced up instinctively, your breath catching as Rafe and Chase came into view.

Chase was the first to speak, his grin wide and easy as he set a tray of drinks on the table. “Miss us?”

“Finally!” Brooke said, clapping her hands together. “What took you so long?”

“The line’s insane,” Chase replied, sliding into the booth beside her. “Be grateful we didn’t give up and just grab water.”

Rafe didn’t say anything as he followed, his movements measured and calculated. He placed a glass in front of Maddie before taking the last empty seat across from you. The table suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, as his presence settled over the group.

Brooke leaned into Chase, nudging him playfully. “So, are you just going to ignore our new friend, or...?”

Chase’s eyes flicked to you, his grin widening. “Oh, right. You’re the transfer, right? I’m Chase. Welcome to the chaos.”

“Thanks,” you introduced yourself, your voice steady despite the way your pulse had quickened again.

“And this,” Brooke said, gesturing to the man sitting across from you, “is Rafe.”

His name lingered in the air for a beat too long, the unspoken weight of it making your chest tighten. Rafe’s gaze met yours again, the intensity in vision eyes sharper now that he was closer. His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more of an acknowledgment, as he nodded once.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, carrying an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The table filled with chatter as the others picked up where they’d left off, but you barely heard it. Rafe’s watch didn’t waver, fixed on you in a way that felt deliberately unnerving, as though he wanted you to squirm. It wasn’t hostile, but it wasn't welcoming either. It was something else entirely. A silent challenge, perhaps, or a test you weren’t sure how to pass.

“So,” Chase said, drawing your attention to him. “How are you liking UNC so far?”

“It’s... different,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “Bigger than my last school, for sure.”

“Better parties, too,” Liam added, raising his drink in mock toast.

“Oh, absolutely,” Chase agreed. “Stick with us, and you’ll see the best this place has to offer.”

“She’s already stuck with us,” Brooke interjected, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ve claimed her.”

“Possessive much?” Maddie muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone now.

The laughter at the table felt like a reprieve, a momentary distraction from the way Rafe’s presence filled every corner of your awareness. Even when you weren’t looking, you could feel his eyes on you.

As the conversation continued, you risked another glance at him. He was sitting back slightly, his arms crossed over his chest, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. When your eyes met, his brow arched just slightly, as if to say caught you.

You looked away quickly, your cheeks warming despite the chill in the air-conditioned room. The tension was almost unbearable.

“Another round?” Brooke suggested, breaking the moment as she reached for her empty glass.

“Yes, please,” Sabrina said. “And get me some fries while you’re at it.”

Brooke stood, tugging Chase up with her. “Come on, you’re helping.”

Chase groaned but followed, leaving the rest of you at the table. Liam immediately launched into a story about some party mishap the night before, pulling laughter from Maddie and Sabrina. Their energy was light and easy, but your focus drifted. The conversation faded into the background as a quiet tension hummed in the air.

You absently toyed with the straw in your drink, the condensation cool against your fingertips. It wasn’t the story keeping you distracted, it was a feeling, steady and insistent, like the faint pull of a current just beneath the surface.

Your eyes flicked toward Rafe, catching him mid-motion. He leaned forward in his seat, his fingers resting lightly around his glass. His expression was unreadable, but when his eyes met yours, something shifted. His expression shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, like he was inviting you into a silent exchange you weren’t sure you were ready for.

Before you could think better of it, you asked, “so, does he always let her boss him around like that?” You nodded toward the bar, where Chase and Brooke were deep in conversation with each other.

Rafe’s lips curved faintly into something between a smirk and a smile. “Only when it’s easier than arguing.”

His voice was low, smooth, and somehow it cut through the noise of the bar as if it were meant just for you. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he added, “Besides, Brooke likes to think she’s in charge. No harm in letting her believe it.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “Generous of you.”

He tilted his head, studying you with a casualness that felt anything but. “And you? Do you let people boss you around, or are you the one calling the shots?”

The question caught you off guard, the weight of it settling in a way that felt heavier than the words themselves. You played it off with a shrug, your voice light as you said, “I guess it depends on who’s asking.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his regard was steady and unflinching. The space between you felt charged, as though the brief exchange had opened a door you weren’t sure you wanted to walk through. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the tension shifted. Rafe leaned back again, his attention flicking to the table for a moment before returning to you.

“Fair enough,” he said simply, his tone neutral but laced with something that made your pulse quicken.

The conversation broke as Liam’s voice rose in laughter again, drawing your focus back to the group. You turned away from Rafe, but the weight of his words, and the way he’d looked at you, like he was turning over some unspoken thought, lingered in the back of your mind.

Chase and Brooke returned a few minutes later, Brooke balancing a tray of drinks with the practiced ease of someone who could do it blindfolded. Chase trailed behind her, a basket of fries in one hand and a triumphant grin on his face.

“Fries are here, ladies and gentlemen,” Chase announced, sliding the basket onto the table with exaggerated flair. “You’re welcome.”

“And drinks,” Brooke added, placing the tray down and handing out glasses. “Okay, who’s ready to have some real fun?”

Sabrina immediately perked up. “What kind of fun are we talking about?”

“Dancing, duh,” Brooke said, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she looked at you. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

You returned her smile easily, “lead the way!”

Brooke’s grin widened. “Now that’s the energy I like! Let’s go.”

The group cheered enthusiastically as Brooke grabbed your hand, tugging you out of your seat with surprising strength and pulling you toward the dance floor with a playful urgency. The music grew louder as you wove through the crowd, the bass thrumming beneath your feet and mingling with the laughter and chatter around you. It was vibrant, intoxicating, and all too easy to step into.

The moment you reached the dance floor, you fell into the rhythm naturally. The beat pulsed through your body, every movement intentional but fluid. This was the game you were built to play, slipping into the moment, owning it, and making it look effortless.

“See?” Brooke shouted over the music as she spun to face you, her hands grabbing yours. “Isn’t this amazing?”

You laughed, matching her energy. “I get it now. Totally worth it.”

Brooke twirled herself dramatically, her curls bouncing with the movement. “I knew you’d fit right in. Seriously, I’m so glad we met. It’s like, you were meant to be here.”

Her words carried a warmth that felt genuine, even though you knew you couldn’t take them at face value. Still, you played along, letting your smile widen as you leaned in. “I’m glad, too. This is exactly what I needed.”

“Same,” Brooke said, her expression softening for a moment. “You don’t even know. You’re like... the missing piece. It’s been forever since I clicked with someone this fast.”

The sincerity in her voice struck you more than you expected, and you squeezed her hands briefly before letting go, your movements falling effortlessly back into the music. 

“You’re making this way too easy!” You teased.

“Good!” Brooke laughed, tossing her head back, “that’s what friends are for.”

The crowd pressed in around you, bodies swaying and shifting with the beat, but you held your space with ease, your movements a blend of precision and spontaneity. Brooke’s laughter rang As Brooke spun you, you caught a flicker of movement near the table. Rafe leaned forward across the table, murmuring something to Chase.

His hand moved absently to the edge of the table, fingers drumming once, twice, before stilling. Chase laughed, gesturing animatedly, though it was clear Rafe’s attention wasn’t fully on him. There was a restlessness to his movements, a little pull that made your focus longer than you meant to let it.

“Don’t look,” Brooke began a second later, leaning in with a grin that was both teasing and knowing, “but Rafe had been staring at you for, like, five minutes straight.”

You blinked and turned to Brooke. “Really?”

Brooke gave you a playful nudge. “Uh, yeah. It’s not exactly subtle.”

Your stomach fluttered as you glanced back toward the table, this time catching Rafe’s gaze. His fingers rested lightly on the table’s edge now, his posture easy yet fixed, as though he was aware of exactly when you’d look. The corner of his mouth curved slightly, not quite a smile, but enough to leave you wondering what it meant.

“Told you,” Brooke said, leaning closer. “You’ve got his attention.”

Your heart raced, but your exterior stayed calm. You held his focus a bit longer before turning back to Brooke with a playful shrug. “Maybe I’ll let him keep it. He’s cute.”

Brooke gasped and twirled you dramatically, her laughter ringing out above the music. “Oh, I like you! You’re dangerous.”

You grinned, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. The weight of Rafe’s attention only added to your focus, sharpening every movement, every smile.

The song shifted and Brooke leaned in again, her voice warm and truly genuine, “I mean it. I’m really glad you’re here. You’ve made this semester so much better already.”

“Right back at you,” you said, matching her sincerity.

But even as you spoke, the weight of Rafe’s fixation clung to you, impossible to ignore.

You glanced back at the table, catching his focus once more. His expression hadn’t changed, but something in his eyes made your chest tighten. A heat spread through you that had nothing to do with the dancing.

He wasn’t just looking. His stare lingered, sharp and probing, as if peeling back layers you hadn’t meant to reveal. It felt deliberate, practiced. Like a skill honed over years. This wasn’t just attention. It was control.

And Rafe Cameron knew how to hold it. Everyone was aware of it. He was the kind of guy who turned heads effortlessly, who drew people toward him whether they wanted to be near him or not.

For a split second, you’d doubted if you were the one setting the trap — or if you’d already stepped into his.