#on the other hand…I love Substance especially the new order one…

[some-greatreward]

why do people comment on newer new order videos like peter hook is personally going to come into the youtube comments section to shake their hand for calling barney sumner a bad singer

[strangetheedreamer]

mother knows best

pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader You and Jake have been dancing around each other for months, will a slip of the tongue finally turn it into something more? a/n: if this is familiar that's because it was posted on my old blog before i had a manic episode and deactivated :D. anyway pls enjoy love y'all.

Warnings under the cut, minors DNI!!!

warnings: uh, smut? i haven't read this one in a while guys i have to admit. I think there's oral (m!receiving) and also fingering and then unprotected p in v sex.

“My mom thinks we’re dating.” the words were past your lips before you could even think twice about them and you swore internally, not even remotely prepared for the conversation that you were about to start. Jake swallows his whiskey hard, his throat moving with the action, and turns to you with wide eyes and raised brows. 

“Your mom thinks we’re what?” he sputters out between coughs and you roll your eyes and push the glass of water you’d ordered over to him. He accepts and takes a hearty swig from it. Drama queen. 

“You heard me, she thinks we’re dating.” you restate, swirling your straw in your vodka soda. The ice cubes clink together and you don’t look at Jake, though you can feel his eyes on you. You try to keep your tone and your words nonchalant, but inside your heartbeat has sped up and your hands are starting to tremble just a little bit. You really, really were not ready to have this conversation with Jake tonight, you have no idea why you started it. Especially because if you were honest, there was some definite merit to your mom’s thoughts.

 You and Jake had been dancing around each other for months now, pretty much from the moment you met. You’d shared a mutual friend with Jake and his brothers and one night you were introduced and it took off sprinting from there. You’d hit it off with his brothers well, but it was different with Jake. When your eyes had met during that first introduction you’d felt something click into place in your brain, something that said hey, you’ve been waiting for this person and here they are. Jake was shy in the beginning, but throughout the night you learned that he was witty and smart and passionate. The incessant flirting would come later. And the flirting could be found in the little things. It was the way his hands would linger whenever they touched you, the way his eyes found you immediately wherever you were, and the playful teasing and everpresent pet names. He was flirting, that you knew for sure, but what you weren’t sure of was if there was any substance behind it or if that was just what your friendship was. It was all very confusing and had led to many sleepless nights on your end, tossing and turning wide awake with a certain guitarist on your mind. 

“What did you tell her?” Jake’s question breaks you from your racing thoughts suddenly and you clear your throat and glance up at him, finding his gaze trained on you like there was no one else in the bar. Jake always looked at you like that, always made you feel like it was only the two of you in a room. It was slightly unsettling, but mostly endearing. You took a healthy sip of your drink straight from the glass, ignoring Jake’s chuckle at your obvious avoidance of the question. You put the now empty glass down with a soft thunk and wave the bartender down to ask for another, still pointedly not looking at the man next to you, “You have to answer me eventually, you know that, angel,” Jake prompts when you still don’t answer, poking you in the ribs with a smug sort of smirk pulling on his lips. You shoot him a withering look and take your fresh drink from the bartender, a new girl you hadn’t seen before and you and Jake were regulars at this particular bar. Despite his pestering, you knew that Jake would be okay if you took the rest of the night to answer his question, he was patient and kind like that. But you wouldn’t leave him hanging, you pushed your old drink to the edge of the bar for the bartender to grab and sighed to yourself, pulling at a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater. 

“I told her no of course.” you finally reply and chance a look at Jake to find one of his dark brows arched and a smirk still on his face. You pull on the sleeves of your sweater and place your chin in your cupped palm, eyes trained on the baseball game on one of the tvs in front of you.  

Jake chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey and coke, “Of course? Then what I have been putting the moves on you for-” he pauses and checks an imaginary watch, “8 months, 11 days, and 2 hours for?” he asks and you swing your gaze to his, chin still cupped in your palm and eyebrows raised. 

Unimpressed, you ask, “What kind of math is that?” and Jake laughs and shifts to face you where he’s standing next to you at the stool he’d snagged for you when you first got here. Always a gentleman, Jake was. 

“That’s what you’re objecting to? My math?” he questions and you move your gaze back to the tv in front of you just as a player hits a home run and a group at the end of the bar erupts in cheers. You shrug and nod noncommittally, your gaze sliding back to his when he nudges your hand with his. 

“Math is the backbone of our modern society.” you murmur and Jake rolls his eyes at you, reaching out and taking the hand not currently cupping your jaw in both of his. You feel a little shiver come over you at the feeling of Jake’s warm, calloused hands on yours as his fingers stroke over your palm and tangle with your own. He’s looking down with furrowed brows and a tight jaw at your conjoined hands, like he’s thinking about how to respond. You wait with slightly baited breath, watching him turn your hand over in his own. 

“We could be.” he finally speaks and you can’t help your breath catching, your fingers tightening against your cheek. You don’t know what to say back, you decide to play dumb. 

“Could be what?” you whisper and Jake looks up and meets your gaze, his brown eyes soft and molten. This has to be the second most terrifying moment of your life. The first was an unrelated skydiving incident you had let one of your old roommates talk you into that for your own sanity you like to pretend never happened. This? This moment now, with Jake holding your hand in his and looking at you the way he is, is a very, very close second. 

“Dating.” his voice is so steady and sure when he says it and you feel like you’re trembling like a wet chihuahua at the whole situation. He looks right at you when he says it, his eyes boring into yours and you can’t help but look away at the fierceness of it. However that feels worse and you return to the intensity in his. You now know that you’re shaking. You know this because Jake tells you that you are and you nod once, feel him squeeze your hand. 

You swallow the lump growing in your throat and let your hand drop from where it holds your chin, “Do you want to be?” you ask, again the words out of your mouth before you can think about them and if it’s possible, the intensity in Jake’s eyes grows. In addition, they flood with a heat that makes your thighs clench on your barstool. 

He leans closer to you, so close your breaths are practically shared and then he whispers directly into your ear, “Baby, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.” you shiver at his words, your eyes squeezing shut when Jake ghosts his lips over the shell of your ear as he pulls away. You track his every movement with your gaze, trace the veins in his forearms and his long fingers as he picks up his glass, watch his throat move with the swallowing of his drink. He knows you’re watching because you can see the smirk of his lips against the rim of the glass. 

“Jake.” you whisper his name and his eyes flick to yours, that heat still smoldering in them and you put your hand lightly on his forearm, “Take me home.” his eyes trace yours, searching for the meaning behind them and when he finds what he’s looking for, he turns from you and flags down the bartender, asks for the check. 

“Yes ma’am”

~~~~~~~~~

You can’t breathe the whole car ride back to your apartment, especially not when Jake reaches a hand over the center console and grips your thigh. Neither of you speak, but you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Your head is spinning, you don’t know how you got here. This wasn’t what you planned to happen, this wasn’t how you saw this night going at all. How it was supposed to go was you and Jake barhop for a while, get tipsy, and then you go back to one of your places, put a few records on and end up passed out on one of your couches. Now you were literally speeding-because Jake is one of those drivers that thinks that speed limits are a suggestion-back to your apartment, where you’re going to end up having sex with one of your best friends. 

“You’re thinking too much.” Jake breaks the silence and stops your racing mind dead, you turn to him with what you know is a deer caught in headlights look and he chuckles and squeezes your thigh before he releases it, hand drifting back to the steering wheel, “I would never make you do something you don’t want to do, you know that,” he tells you and you nod, then you reach across the center console and take Jake’s right hand in yours and place it back on your thigh. 

“I know.” you say simply and Jake chuckles again, letting his hand rub the inside of your thigh just barely. In the back of your mind, you know that this was inevitable, those butterflies in your stomach made you fully aware that something, sometime had to happen. But you had no idea that he would feel the same way you did, that he was dancing around you the same way you were dancing around him. 

A surge of confidence overcomes you and you find that your hands are no longer shaking as you put your key into the lock of your door to your apartment, Jake’s hand on your hip as he moves your hair off your neck and presses a kiss to where it meets your shoulder. You pull him into your apartment and when the door closes, you push him back against it. A surprised huff comes from his chest and he looks at you with eyes slightly widened, but with that same intense heat that flooded them at the bar returned to them. 

You step toward him, shrug off your sweater, and take his hand in yours. You bring it down to the tie of your wrap dress and he takes your hint and pulls on it, the dress falling open and exposing you to him. You thanked your lucky stars that you were wearing something vaguely sexy, that at least your underwear was the same color as your bra. You shrug the dress off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a puddle of silk. You see him take a deep breath and squeeze his eyes shut. You take another step toward him, so that your chests are just barely pressed together, then you curve an arm around the back of his neck and pull his face down to yours, just short of pressing your lips against his and so that you can feel his breath ghosting over your lips. You hold him there for a few moments, long enough for his hands to press hesitantly against your hips and pull them a step closer to his; then, you close the distance and kiss him and from that very first moment you know that you’re lost. It’s a kiss like you’ve never had before, soft but firm and insistent and thank god, not too much tongue. He pulls you flush against his body, so that you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your bare skin. You snake a hand down between your bodies and palm him through his jeans, prompting a soft groan to fall from his lips and you pull away. You hear him audibly mourn the loss of your body contact, but his eyes follow you. 

“Let me help you.” you whisper and go to your knees in front of him, he tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls your gaze up to his, a question in his eyes and you know he’s asking if you’re sure, telling you that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. In response you press a hand against him again and his head falls back against the door, his breaths already coming in shallow pants. 

You take down his zipper and pop open the button on his pants, you pull them down his thighs just enough to limit his movement, swallowing when you see how big he is even through his boxer briefs. The hand not tangled into your hair reaches down to cup your cheek and you press a kiss against his palm, then you pull his briefs down his legs and let him spring free. “Oh wow.” you can’t help but breathe and you hear him breathe a laugh above you that turns into a groan when you take him in your hand and give him a few experimental pumps. Then you smile to yourself and take him in your mouth, swallow him down until he hits the back of your throat, relishing the guttural groan that it rips from him and the panting of your name. 

“God, you drive me crazy.” he laughs and his hand tightens its grip in your hair. You hum with him still deep in your throat and pull off of him, a lewd popping sound coming when your mouth leaves him. Without giving him any warning, you swallow him down again and then repeat, then do it again after that. The sounds you’re pulling from him are absolutely pornographic and you’re living for it, living for his mumbling incoherent curses with your name sprinkled in, living for the way he cries out when you lick a stripe up the bottom and swirl your tongue around the tip. His thighs begin to shake and his grip on your hair tightens as you work him. You love a good blowjob, especially when it’s someone like Jake, who pants and groans and cries out your name. 

Eventually, he pulls your mouth from him and you look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily and your lips glossy with spit. He groans and fists his hand in your hair, “Don’t look at me like that.” he practically begs upon seeing your puppy dog look from him stopping you, “I can’t come before I’m inside you.” 

He reaches for your hands and pulls you back up to your feet, pressing his lips insistently to yours before you can even speak the word bedroom. This kiss is messy, tongue and teeth and heavy breaths, and you can’t help the little squeal that escapes you when he grips the back of your thighs and lifts you up off the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips and grind yourself down onto him and he hisses in a breath at the feeling. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” he murmurs into your mouth and you whimper in response, pull on his shirt to get him to move. He carries you blindly toward your bedroom, lips latched onto yours and hands squeezing your hips where he’s holding you. 

He drops you gently onto your bed, following overtop of you as you push yourself up toward your pillows, your lips attached and moving together the whole way. He holds himself above you on his hands and your gazes meet, his pupils blown wide and his lips parted when he separates your mouths briefly. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks and you feel your whole body warm at his consideration, because you know that if you told him no, if you asked him to stop right now he would and you would still be friends the next morning. That wasn’t what you wanted though, what you wanted more than anything was him, just as you had from the moment your eyes first met. 

“I’ve wanted you from the moment we met and I want you now, Jakey,” you whisper, one of your hands reaching up and cupping his jaw, he leans into the touch and his eyes flutter shut and open again. He moves to his knees and pulls his shirt off and you take in the tan expanse of his skin, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his chest. He runs his hands through your hair, pulling your face up to meet his and then leaning down to slot your mouths together. His kiss is the easiest thing to get lost in, your mind going blank with nothing but thoughts of how perfect his mouth fits to yours. “Are you gonna fuck me, Jakey?” you murmur the words into his mouth, your fingers scraping down his torso and he shivers at both your words and the touch.

“You have no idea how badly I want to,” he replies, voice low and rasping and his fingers playing at the straps of your bra. You reach behind you and undo the clasps, letting it fall from your frame and tossing it to the side. His eyes are drawn immediately to the newly exposed skin, his gaze tracing hungrily over your breasts. You’ve never felt more desired than you do with Jake, never felt like you’re the only person in the world to someone. But you feel that way now, with the way his eyes trace your body and his tongue wets his lips. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers and you can’t help the whimper that sounds at the back of your throat at the words. At the noise his gaze flicks up to yours, a smirk twitching at his lips. 

He leans down and captures your mouth in his again, murmuring his next words right into your mouth, “You like when I talk pretty like that to you, baby? When I tell you you’re perfect?” he questions you and you whine low in your throat and nod feverishly, palms pressed to his biceps and nails digging into his skin. “God, you’re an angel, the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathes, a small laugh coming breathlessly from him and you can only whimper again and press your mouths together. 

His fingers, those long, pretty things, trace down from your collarbone to between your breasts, ghosting over your stomach and stopping at your hips, playing with the hemline of your panties. He’s got you writhing under his touch without even breaking the kiss and he hasn’t even touched you where you crave it most yet. “Take them off, Jake,” you breathe, a note of desperation in your voice and he chuckles darkly at the sound, fingers dragging down your center over the lacy fabric, “Don’t tease, Jakey, please.”

Without any warning, he plunges his hand into your panties, spreading your folds and groaning at the wetness that’s gathered there, “Jesus, angel, you’re so fucking wet already,” he practically gasps the words out and you whine as his fingers swirl around your entrance and then wind tight circles into your clit. The touch makes you warm all over, but your muscles are every single one of them clenched and your hips are rising off the bed, pressing into the heel of his palm and circling against his touch, “So needy, so desperate for me. You want my fingers, pretty girl? I want you to come on them so I can lick them clean,” his words make you moan they’re so perfectly filthy, so beautifully dirty. His fingers continue with their glorious work and then suddenly they leave your aching clit, you almost mourn and plead at the action when he suddenly plunges two fingers inside of you, curling them just right in a way that has you arching off the bed and crying out. 

“God, Jakey, do that again, please,” you whine and he chuckles lowly, curling his fingers against your walls again, hitting a spot in you that you know you could never reach on your own, it belonged to him. You were panting and writhing under his touch, moaning and crying out his name as he worked you over with his fingers- those beautiful, magical fingers. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you sobbed, your body shaking and trembling, your thighs clenching, and your hands fisting the sheets as an orgasm came barreling towards you. Jake swore as you shook, his fingers curling inside you in a way that leaves your head spinning and his obscenities only sending you closer and closer to bliss. 

It only takes a few more curls of his fingers before your orgasm crashes through you, overwhelming every single one of your senses and every last nerve in your body. Your back arches off the bed and for a few blessed moments you experience a euphoria like you’ve never felt before this moment. Jake coaxes you down from your high, murmuring praises and pressing soft kisses to your hip bone and stomach. 

You rise up onto your elbows and lift a hand, running your fingers down the side of his face and tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. His eyes are molten as they meet yours, blown out with lust and longing and you reach for him. He takes your lead and crawls up your body, holding your gaze the whole way until his lips are on yours, kissing you soft but in a way that overwhelms you and leaves you needing so much more. 

“I believe you promised to lick these clean,” you hold up his hand, still slick with your release and his eyes darken even more as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. You whimper at the sight and he smirks around his fingers, releasing them from his mouth with a lewd pop, “Can you fuck me now, Jakey, please?” 

In mere moments, your panties are down and off and Jake is pulling on his boxers, moving them down his legs and off onto the floor to be lost somewhere in the mess of strewn clothing. When you’re both left in equal states of undress, he returns to hover over you, his hands planted on either side of your face and his hips just barely pressed against yours. You can feel how hard he is where he lays pressed between your stomachs. You snake your hand down between your bodies, taking his bare, already pulsing cock in your hand and pumping a few times. He groans and his head drops to your shoulder as he watches your movements, his hips just barely thrusting into your hand. “Are you gonna let me inside you tonight, angel?” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, pressing wet, hot kisses there and you nod your head, the hand not still pumping him scratching down his back. 

“How do you want me, Jakey?” you rasp into his ear and he shivers above you, eyes still trained down on where your hand still works him over, thumb swirling around the head and making his hips jump in your hand, “You can have me anyway your pretty little heart desires, baby.”  

One of his hands shoots out to grab onto your wrist, stilling your hand’s movements and finally meeting your eyes again, a desperate, hungry gleam in his, “I want you just like this, so I can look at you while you fall apart on my cock,” he tells you and you exhale sharply, his dirty words slithering into the cracks of your brain and taking root there. You’ll be squeezing your legs together in public thinking of them in the future. 

“Fuck me, Jakey. Fuck me so good.” you mirror his words from earlier and without another word or plea, he pushes inside of you in one slow, solid thrust. You both cry out at the feeling, the intense pleasure it brings, and Jake stutters out a breath, meeting your gaze with his again, seeking permission before he moves. You can tell by how his arms shake that it’s taking everything in him not to just pound into you relentlessly until you scream and unravel like a loose thread underneath him. All it takes is one nod from you before he picks up a rhythm, something fast and punishing, something deep and hard. It has you both panting and you writhing beneath him, your legs falling open ever wider for his hips to have the room they need to slam recklessly into yours. 

“God, you feel like heaven, angel,” he groans and you lean up and lick a stripe up his chest, nipping at his chin with your teeth and clawing your hands down his biceps. He shakes at the actions, his pace faltering as you capture his mouth in yours, kissing him with all the passion you’ve had pent up for him in your body, “You’re just like I imagined you’d be, so fucking tight and warm and wet, wrapped around me and squeezing me so nice,” the words stumble out of him between pants and you let yourself fall back to the bed, fingers dancing along his jaw and pulling his gaze to yours.

“So you’ve imagined me before, Jakey?” you ask, voice surprisingly steady for the way your heart is racing in your chest and without even a trace of embarrassment he nods his head, reaching down to hook a leg higher around his hip and reach a spot even deeper inside you.

“Every goddamn night since I met you,” he informs you and your heart feels like it’s going to burst with sheer bliss and you smile, pulling him down and kissing him again.

“Me too.” you whisper into his mouth and with those words, his pace falters and he curses above you, reaching for both of your legs and placing your calves on his shoulders. The new position has him hitting a spot in you that has you crying out his name and fisting the sheets beside you. 

“I can’t last much longer, angel, ‘m so close.” he mumbles, his eyes watching your breasts as they bounce with every thrust and turning his head to press a kiss to your calf where it rests on his chest. You whine out his name as he hits that same spot with every thrust and you run your nails down his chest, clenching tight around him. He groans at the feeling, hair hanging down in a sweaty curtain around his face, “Don’t squeeze me like that, angel, I’ll come right now.” he warns. 

You push his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears and pulling him down to your face, whimpering at the stretch in your legs it causes, “Go ahead, Jakey, go ahead and cum right inside me,” you command in a whisper and he doesn’t require anything more than that. He’s roaning and thrusting a few more times before his hips slam into yours a final time and he spills inside you, crying out your name inside a slew of obscenities. 

You’re both slick with sweat and panting as he lets your legs drop lifelessly down to the bed and promptly collapses on top of you with a groan. You laugh and comb your fingers through his damp hair, pressing a kiss to his temple and wrapping your legs around his waist. You quite deftly flip your bodies so that you’re straddling his hips and he’s sprawled beneath you, looking up at you awestruck and fucked out

“That was incredible, angel,” he huffs out a laugh and you giggle above him, tracing mindless patterns into the skin of his chest with your nails. You get a little shy at the thoughts that crowd into your brain, at what was once dirty talk now something you actually need to discuss. Jake catches onto your racing thoughts and rubs his thumbs soothingly over your hip bones, furrowing his brows up at you in worry, “What is it? What’s goin’ on up in that pretty brain of yours?”

You hesitate, searching deep for the confidence to have this conversation and eventually finding it, opening your mouth and asking him, “Did you mean what you said, you’ve imagined me before? Imagined us?” 

His brows stay furrowed and he nods slowly, “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, angel. You’ve been all I can possibly think about from the moment I met you, I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I meant what I said at the bar too, we could be dating if that was what you wanted,” he finished and you could only sigh in defeat, causing him to raise a questioning brow at you, 

“I hate when my mother is right.”   

[kenny-the-ken]

Alone at Last Pt 2

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!! You can find the first chapter here!! WARNINGS!!: guns, gore, violence, angst, character death, drugs, gangs, strong language, MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!

It had been four months from you and Kenny had ran off together, ditching South Park and forging a new life with each other.

You were now in California, the weather a stark difference to that of Colorado, especially in the mountains. The weather was hot, the people were hot, and everyone had one shared love.

Drugs. And by god was Kenny in business. He knew a few people feom California that used to ship his supplies to South Park, but now he was on their home soil, he became a personal dealer for their gang. And boy was he slinging drugs.

He had sold that much that you were both able to rent a luxury apartment, feed yourselves and Kenny still had enough money left at the end of the month to hand you his bank card, telling you to treat yourself.

Kenny loved having money, he wasn't used to it, and he spoiled you endlessly, all the things he'd have loved to have done when you both lived in South Park. He'd bring you bouquets, just because, order you food when he was out working, just in case you were hungry, random packages would be delivered, all addressed to you, and Kenny would've ordered you clothes you'd shown him, shoes, luxury handbags and expensive jewellery, he had you spoilt rotten.

There were a few problems though, drug money isn't safe money, in fact it's entirely illegal. And people who are higher up the food chain of a gang than you are can offer you bigger, better jobs, better reward, higher jail time.

Kenny and you ended up on the road quite a lot as the months went on, constantly travelling the world, seeing all these amazing place, and occasionally smuggling some illegal substances in the process, and had thankfully never been caught.

It was only when a major gang war had erupted did shit get real, and it got real fast. Molotov cocktails becoming an average thing to hear about in the news, people being shot, police officers being targeted by multiple gangs, the streets became a scarier place, and you were becoming more and more worried for Kenny's safety, not that he cared.

"Babe, I die all the time! You know this! You've seen me die before! If someone kills me, I don't think I'm gonna even worry about it at this point." Kenny rambled, a blunt hanging from his lips, taking a few long drags before passing it to you, exhaling the smoke out the window of his car. You accepted, taking a long drag yourself, and exhaling with a long sigh. You were on a road trip together, a chance to get away from everything for a while. You were going to a nice place in California, where rich people normally stayed, it would be nice to pretend, if even for a little while.

"Ken, I mean it. This feud is getting out of control! Someone got shot through the head last week!" You exclaimed, taking another drag of the blunt before passing it back to your boyfriend who ashes it out the window before placing it back between his lips.

"Pussies. I've been shot in the head more times than I can count." Kenny snickered, and you pushed his arm, a stern look on your face.

"Well what else am I supposed to do, baby? Slinging drugs doesn't take skill, you've just gotta make sure you don't get caught, it's quick, easy money, babe." Kenny spoke, and you let out a defeated sigh, both of you knew you'd be fucked without Kenny dealing, the only good thing was that if he was killed, at least he'd come back.

And that was when it happened, pulling up at the set of traffic lights, a car pulling up beside you, the window rolling down, and before either of you could react, shots were being fired at both of you, one hitting Kenny right on the temple, and back out the other side.

Your screams could curdle blood, loud shrieks escaping your mouth, staring at your partner, now lifeless, head drooping and eyes dull.

You were covered in what you could only assume was Kenny's brains, your once beautiful clothes covered in blood and pieces of flesh, and you took of your seatbelt, moving to your partner, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands.

"K-Ken, Kenny, please god no, Ken?" You spoke, but of course he didn't reply. Even though you knew he would be back, seeing your boyfriend getting his brains blown out was not something you had ever wanted to see, and you were certain you'd be scarred for the rest of your life.

Police were everywhere, taking Kenny's limp, blood stained body from the car, placing him on a stretcher and pulling a clean, white sheet over his body and face, putting him into the ambulance.

You were in a complete trance, as an medic pulled a few shards of broken glass out of your skin, you didn't even realise that you'd been hurt, so focused on what had just unfolded mere minutes ago.

The police brought you home once you'd been patched up, and you entered your empty apartment, the vibe of the place completely shifted. A place that was warm and homey was now cold and dull, you could see Kenny everywhere, his half smoked joint sat in the ashtray, the bowl he'd used for his breakfast still sitting in the sink, his shoes still laying messily beside the front door, and as you entered your bedroom, you barely blinked. The bed lay still unmade, and you stripped from your blood splattered clothes, dumping them outside the bathroom door, and getting into the en-suite shower in your room.

Even the bathroom reminded you of Kenny, his shampoo and conditioner, his body wash, shaving foam and razor, even his toothbrush brought tears to your eyes, as you turned on the scalding water, leaning your head back and sobbing as the water soaked you, a steady stream of red water trickling down the drain.

And you stood there for what felt like forever, until the water ran clear, getting out and wrapping a towel around your body and hair, and once your skin and hair were dry, you opened the wardrobe, pulling out one of Kenny's orange hoodies, and you quickly put it on, breathing in the scent of your dead boyfriend, tears still welling in your bloodshot eyes.

Your head pounded, body ached and wounds stinging as you crawled into bed, wrapping the duvet tightly around you, putting the hood of Kenny's hoodie up over your long h/c hair, and slowly sobbing yourself to sleep, your whole body shaking.

You awoke to the sound of your bedroom door closing, making you sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes that were nearly glued shut, the tears having dried into your face as you slept.

"Hello? Is someone there?" You spoke, before hearing the soft plop of clothes hitting the carpeted floor. You brought your knees to your chest, too scared to make another sound, until you moved to turn on your bedside lamp, your body jolting quickly from the bed, lunging yourself at the figure you were scared of a few minutes ago.

"Kenny! Oh my god, Kenny. You have no idea how glad I am to see you!" You exclaimed, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pressing kisses all over his face, and he returned your hug, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to his bare chest, standing in nothing but his boxers, his clothes laying in a pile.

"I missed you, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You shook your head no, and Kenny quirked his brow.

"Not even a few cuts and bruises?" He pressed further and you finally spoke, tears running down your already tear stained cheeks.

"A few pieces of glass got stuck in my arm but... I- I was more concerned with your blood and flesh that was all over me, and the fact you were dead." You whispered against his chest, and Kenny ran his fingers through your hair, shushing you as you cried.

"Don't cry baby. I'm here, you're safe baby. We need to get out of California for a while, I don't want anyone trying to target you, I'd never be able to live with myself." Kenny spoke, his voice breaking as the tears began to fall from his own eyes, and you both stayed still, in each others warm embrace for a few moments, before Kenny picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he placed you on your side of the bed, climbing in himself.

Kenny pulled you down to cuddle close to his chest, pressing gentle kisses along your face, a small smile on his face.

"Let's get some rest, baby. And then tomorrow we're getting a flight to New York, the gangs moving me, I'm their best asset at the moment, and the fact I'm immortal certainly helped. There's no feuds happening there, so we'll be safe baby. I promise." Kenny spoke and you nodded, leaning up to press a deep kiss on your lovers lips.

"I love you, Kenny. I'm so glad you're back." You whispered, and Kenny smiled, turning the bed side lamp off before he broke the silence.

"I love you too baby, I'm not going away again, I promise."

[itsmeanyango]

ASTROLOGICAL TIMELINES: AGE 23-66

The information I'm sharing will put you YEARS ahead. If you'd like a personal reading, just reach out to me in my DMs or reach out to me on my WhatsApp business here.

I was writing reports for clients who wanted to know how Pluto in Aquarius would affect them and this inspired me to write the following.

Initially this was going to be life transits from age 25 to 65 but I've decided to start from age 23 because I know how HARD that particular year is.

I won't touch on every particular thing each year, I'm just touching on the events(astrological) that will make or break you given your personal choices.

Since you have this information now, please don't break you❤️.

I am also just copy pasting things from different readings I have done because source tells me someone booked a reading for a client who paid them a lot. In short, someone stole my reading to masquerade as their own work. I hope one day someone googles particular words from their reading and comes across my post then wonders, “hey, why are you using the exact same words from a reading I had done yet I never booked with you?”

I want to start by saying that although I've chosen age 23 as the starting point, age 17/18 is where the shift usually begins because that's the first “real” taste of freedom experience because you've just finished highschool + feel like an adult. The snare here is drugs, alcohol,sex and or romance. It could be all, it could be one or it could be some. Different circumstances make one fall into those snares, not just being idle.

If you get into substance abuse it tends to get out of hand and interferes with your relationship with money and even your education (university/college).

If it's sex, it greatly interferes with your relationships + attachment style(this is a good opportunity to work on your attachment btw). You will grow to be in dysfunctional relationships of all types from friendship to romance to work/professional relationships. Your perception of relationships will be skewed.

If it's romance, well that's where most people actually go downhill real quick because they let love get the best of them.

Are you doomed for any of the above three? No. However, it takes a special kind of someone to turn their wheel around and fix it all(especially in record time, which is before 23 or your first Saturn return). You can come back from all your poor choices, so many people before you have done it and so can you. It just takes extra strength and determination ESPECIALLY when you are in an environment that's set to be your number one enemy.

Age 23

The major event here is your 12H profection year. I have a deeper post for each element(fire, earth ,air and water) on 12H profection years here, go read it.

12H transits are not fun. 12H profection years are usually the longest 12H experiences unless one has planets in their 12H. The shorter the 12H transit, the harsher it is because you have a short timeline to deal with so much. That's why some months you wonder why everything is working against you. Some people already have particular months marked out as their worst months because they have noticed a pattern (this does not mean 12H transits are the main astrological reason why).

Let's say two people of the same age(maybe even twins), present with the same burn degree on the same body part. One is writhing in pain, screaming and crying. The other is just there, even eating a pack of crisps as if nothing is wrong. It may seem shocking and one may say everyone has their level of pain tolerance.

Then you find out that the one who is not flinching has been living with chronic pain and now this new pain is nothing new to them, they are in pain almost every day and without painkillers anyway.

That is how 12H transits are. Some people just shrug off the harsh experiences like nothing. Or share the most life stopping experiences like it's nothing because those experiences have been the order of the day. Everyone else is like, “are you okay?” and they are oblivious.

However, to those who have never experienced earth shattering things, 12H profection years and transits feel like they have been walking in circles in hell. People with 12H placements don't feel that 12H transits and profection years are all that bad. They feel it in their 1H profection year, because it's more quite and peaceful yet this(quiet and peace) is something they are not used to.

Next is age 24, which has the 1H profection year.

1H profection year Jupiter return. This is your first significant Jupiter return. Your actual first one was about 12 years ago but you were too little to understand. Chances are you had some good luck that year or you went through absolute mental anguish. This may have also manifested through your parents having some great financial fortune or opportunities. That fortune was supposed to be used on you, if misfortune ensued then it's because they did not give to Caesar what belongs to Ceasar.

Anyway, at 24 most people are graduating from university or have graduated from university. They wonder about the next step and it's usually in hope of employment and financial gain. However, what tends to happen is a magnitude of misfortune because whatever Jupiter touches expands.

It's really just a huge big tower moment that's meant to wake you up to who you really are, to shake off societal beliefs and values that have been drilled into you through different systems like your family and educational institutions as well as religion. If you handled your 12H profection year without resistance, this may not be as harsh of an experience. You will probably be in a state of Por qué? Not in dejection, but acceptance to learn the lesson or let whatever is next come so that you can move to the next chapter already.

Some people however, are very fortunate. This is because their parents married well(spiritually) or the nature of their birth chart is favourable for this astrological life event.

However, Jupiter has power over both money and the psyche. Money makes man mad. So whatever happens this transit, your psyche is impacted and it's up to you to be grounded or not.

Between age 28 and 30 you have already started your Saturn return, although some people begin to feel the shift(tends to come with challenges) at 27.

When religious leaders say “the day of judgement is very near”, they mean hell but what the day of judgement being very near means is your Saturn return.

Your Saturn return is the day of judgement, but it lasts way more than a day You became an adult in most places at 18, but this doesn't mean you are ready for the adult world. You are just learning. By the time you are 23 you have been five years an adult. A five year old child can talk, walk, feed themselves but bathing not really. They also can't go anywhere on their own. Five years as an adult, you are just finishing university and now wondering about the way forward. At age 12 you are almost a teenager and looking ahead thinking that high school is nearby. You are also probably wondering if your peers will like you, especially the gender you are attracted to.

Twelve years as an adult, at thirty you are wondering if you have made the right choices in your twenties and if the choices you currently carry with you from your twenties will be good or bad for you. Just like how at age 12 a child starts following the crowd to fit in, you might do just that at age thirty because everyone else turned out fine…but that's just what you see, or that's just what they show you.

Now when you followed the crowd at age 12 or watched people follow the crowd, how did that work for you/them?

At age thirty when you are before Saturn answering for the twelve years of adulthood (keep in mind that it takes the sun going round twelve zodiac signs to count as an astrological year), what do you think will happen for having followed the crowd? What about following Yourself?

Following the crowd looks like keeping the peace by not addressing what bothers you, looking the other way in the face of injustice when you know that what's going on is wrong( i.e being an enabler or perpetuating abuse) not standing up for yourself.

Saturn does not just punish you for being a bully to others. Saturn punishes you for not respecting and loving yourself. Sad but true, that's why people get baffled when the sweetest kindest person goes through horrendous things.

If you are the sweetest kindest person to others but an absolute horror to yourself, Saturn will punish you for that. So you better start self loving yourself!

At around 36 you get your Jupiter return.

It's your second one, the first one was around age 24. Jupiter returns are seen as the return that brings you luck. But why would luck come to your door when you don't make space for it?

Jupiter returns to see if you learnt your last lesson twelve years ago and prepared a space for the gifts he bears. It's like not putting milk and cookies under your Christmas tree for Santa yet you have the capacity to. So Jupiter simply tears down everything you consider fortune and this time expects to have found you ready in 12 years time.

At 24, Jupiter returns to see if you decentered your caregivers and the systems you have been through. If not, that tower had to come down like the London bridge song.

At this same age you have your Nodal return and Saturn opening square. Your Nodal return is the North Node simply returning to remind you who you are and where you are going. This transit is not harsh, it's like a reminder in your phone to make that call. It's up to you to follow the reminder or ignore it.

For your opening Saturn square, Saturn is back to see if you are getting it together or using his rewards well. It's slightly challenging and will remind you of a time you went through something similar. All you have to do is learn from your history, apply the relevant lessons and you will be okay.

Between age 41/42 and 43 you have your Saturn opposition and Uranus opposition.

Uranus is the planet of change. Change and transformation are very different. When someone says you have changed, it's because they recognise you but you are somebody they used to know. When you transform, you can slowly walk past people you used to be close to and they will not even stop to say hello because that is now a total stranger they see.

Uranus type of change is revolutionary. Consider how the coca-cola bottles have changed over time. Even without the logos you can tell that those must be coca-cola bottles. Uranus opposition manifests as midlife crisis. At this age you find families having issues when the parents are 41-42. If someone had their first child at 28, when they are 42-43 the child is now 14-15. The parents are going through a crisis and the child wants to be heard but nobody at home was there to listen. Then when the child grows up they talk about how it all started when they were 14. 15 and pregnant sound familiar?

Saturn opposition on the other hand is feeling like being selfish. You know you have responsibilities and people depend on you but you are just so tired of doing the right thing. “I feel something so wrong doing the right thing, I feel something so right doing the wrong thing”. That's counting stars by one republic. But is it worth it? Is it worth losing all the hard work you have put in so far because of a "short" stint in the sky that is simply calling you to discover uncomfortable parts of yourself?

The next transit happens around age 46 and it's your Pluto square and Nodal opposition Let's start with the nodal opposition.

Remember that Nodal return ten years ago that came as a reminder? Well, now whatever that was is facing some opposition. This is also happening after the quarter life crisis has been building up. You probably have a child who is now turning 18 and leaving home. Maybe there are other children but if not, you may be too distracted in your vices to even start feeling empty nest syndrome. So now you decide to do exactly what you wanted to do because your child isn't there to judge you, but you say that your reason is that you didn't want them to see the mess and get hurt.

The most destructive period of ones life is between age 41 and 48. Seven years a slave. This is why one should strive to start getting it together by 25 then thirty and ultimately at 35 so that all these challenges don't shake their foundations because they already did the inner work. When you are young and have the energy, use it wisely because when you grow older and your body just wants to rest you will find it easier to become everything you said you would never be than to be the version of yourself five year old you wanted to become.

At 48 you have your Jupiter return again.

At 24 Jupiter wants you to detach from your parents so that you can have some “wealth” of your own to start your life.

At 36, Jupiter returns to see if you'd like something to help you through 41 to 48 or you are still living in the past.

At 48 Jupiter returns to see if you have the capacity to be a custodian of generational wealth or if you have decided to live like you're in the tower of Babel that is built and falls over and over again.

I want to add that Jupiter rules Pisces but also Sagittarius. When you look at the pisces symbol, the fish are swimming in a circle. That's a loop. Infinity is a loop. If you don't learn from the past, you will forever be in a loop that will make you loose your mind. Sagittarius in this sense under Jupiter means, “you should have known better”. So everytime Jupiter returns, Jupiter expects you to have known better.

From here at 48 you now have your Chiron return coming in from age 49 to 50.

If you have done the work, nothing will scare you. Especially you being someone whose weakness has always been visible. Own your weakness and nobody will ever use it against you.

Age 54 is your nodal return,

it's not the first one you've experienced but this is a good time to look at memories back then. Good or bad memories. At 54 you are also looking at all the relationships you've had in your life so far. They can act as guides to the question, “have I been true to me?” That's a good journal prompt. You don't have to wait for 54, you can start now so by the time you are 54 you look back with fulfillment at your life choices. Your relationships are a direct reflection of who you are.

You'll also find yourself wondering what you are here for and you'll hope you have accomplished your purpose. This is not like the existential crisis of the mid twenties or the adult realisation of the thirties. This one comes with peace or bitterness.

Between age 58 to 60 you have your second Saturn return.

This is heavily about self judgement. It won't be Saturn on your case like at your first Saturn return. It will be you against you, Like Jekyl and Hyde(read this story).

Thinking about your choices in life. Wondering if you should have done better. Feeling like you have been in the same place forever.

You're looking at all the lessons you've learnt, all your accomplishments and deciding if they were beautiful or vanity.

Most people have soul eating regrets at this age and these regrets start manifesting as disease.

Finally between age 63 and 66 you have your closing Uranus square.

Remember that rebellion that started boiling up in you from age 21 to 24? The one especially if 23 was a tough year and you felt like you wouldn't make it through? That's what's coming in this age.

Now, is it(rebellion) worth it? That's the question you'll need then.

[saintarmand]

wait I need to hear about the Daniel Lestat parallels

in answering your question i ended up typing a lot about a lot of things... some of which i think is pretty good and some of which is messy nonsense. enticing sneak preview:

daniel and lestat's similarities

the show overall as a story about how substance abuse affects families

how daniel mirrors both louis and lestat as a husband and as a father

facts, conjecture, and lots of theories about different aspects of daniel's backstory:

how antoinette may parallel armand, madeleine, and daniel's daughter

how daniel might mirror claudia???

like lestat, daniel can be pretty arrogant. they both love to lecture. "this is just how it is, listen to me, i would know! i have so much experience and knowledge to share." classic old white man behavior. hell, they're both old bisexual white men even. like lestat, daniel doesn't think of himself as racist but is still throwing microaggressions at both louis and armand.

daniel & lestat, danlou & loustat

lestat and daniel are both judgmental of some of louis's life choices (though usually different ones) and are not shy about saying so. they both make faces at louis eating animals—daniel also just louis eating in general ofc. but WE KNOW he still secretly thinks it's sexy and is also perhaps a bit jealous when louis is drinking from a hot guy, much like lestat. (don't pick the jacked sailor louis!!! great aesthetic but NO.)

so personality-wise, daniel is a combination of both louis and lestat. (he even has some claudia in him with his quest for the truth. i bet claudia would love to be a journalist, digging up dirt on people, exposing corruption! she's already a prolific writer too. but i'm getting sidetracked.)

both loustat and danlou are fond of each other, attracted to each other, but are also constantly bickering, sometimes in all good fun and sometimes not.

we see daniel yelling at louis in the show, and he's always yelling at armand in devil's minion. like lestat, he has a lot of anger in him. i bet he could throw a punch too back in the day. and while i don't think he was abusive to his wives, we know he wasn't a good husband either. especially while he was using.

and this is where we get to the most important parallel between them: lestat's "overindulgence" in killing is analogous to substance abuse. of course drinking too much blood doesn't actually make him act the way he does, but what happens in the show is still very reminiscent of the way alcoholism and drug abuse contributes to relationship problems. the substance itself doesn't lead to abuse, but it exacerbates things.

human blood is drugs actually

in the books, lestat talks about getting drunk a lot when he was human. louis calls himself a drunk too, and in the show their relationship starts by them going out all night almost every night. then they start going out every night to drink human blood. louis feels pressured to drink in order to please lestat, but eventually he wants to cut back. lestat is angry, telling louis it's stupid, there's nothing wrong with drinking, it's pointless, it's gonna be so hard, you won't be able to do it. and of course he feels like it's an attack on his own blood drinking. louis doesn't ask lestat to quit with him, but out of respect for louis's choice, he doesn't drink around louis anymore. lestat starts having parties at the house all the time. louis is totally fine with it, he's there, it's fine, it's fun. at least until it starts to get out of hand. and then lestat's fucking around on him too. eventually louis has a big relapse, things get way out of hand, it costs him his job even, lestat's like lol welcome back! told you this would happen! so louis breaks up with him.

but whooops he comes back carrying a child. you know, in his arms! he really wants to keep the kid. lestat acquiesces. louis doesn't go back to drinking human blood, but he doesn't have to because lestat has a new drinking buddy, a 14-year-old girl! he gave her a taste and she loved it! yay! louis tries to warn her about potential consequences. he's had a lot of them. she was a consequence even, but a good one. but she likes drinking with lestat, and eventually she starts going out on her own. and it gets out of hand.

daniel is sober now, "like louis", but he had a big drug problem back in the day. louis asks him about the "best he ever had." black tar heroin is nothing compared to what lestat gave louis that first time. yeah, it's not just drinking, it's hard drugs that lestat gave his kids.

louis's family doesn't know what the hell he and lestat get up to all night but they know it's nothing good. he stopped coming over for months, even years, but one time he showed up, watched the baby for just a second, dropped him on the floor. he wasn't invited to the kids' birthday party cause they're afraid of him. he showed up late and broke the door. they cut him out entirely. are he and his... partner, the right kind of people to adopt?

one time the cops get called. they raid the house but the evidence is well hidden. mostly. they refrain on calling the child welfare league but they don't like what they see. louis and lestat lecture claudia; louis about the drugs themselves, lestat about not hiding her tracks well enough. and speaking of, are those track marks on her arms? we don't do that kind of thing in this house!

claudia tells louis he's the one who brought her into the house. enabled lestat to give her a taste. she leaves home, staying somewhere new every night. she's still using, on her own and in dangerous situations. eventually she returns home. it's safer with someone watching your back.

lestat and claudia say louis's abstaining comes off judgmental. so he starts using again too. they throw a big big party with great party favors. claudia puts something in lestat's.

in season 2 (and i'm spoiling the whole plot), claudia and louis will travel around looking for people who are into the same stuff. the ones they find are pathetic, living like trash. then they find a group having some real fun, big parties. louis's not into it, but he's into armand, who doesn't mind that he doesn't use as much. claudia will get sick of the parties but get louis to give this woman she meets a little taste like lestat did with her. but armand doesn't want claudia around. armand and louis will keep using together, meet a guy in a bar. give him a taste of the good stuff. eventually louis will want to cut back again, and armand accepts it, even helps him. but louis's not much fun anymore.

just this once, daniel is a step ahead of louis; daniel's second marriage has already fallen apart.

daniel and alice

daniel compares louis to his first wife when he tells her about her dyeing her eyebrow; she thinks she has a flaw and tried to cover it up, but daniel likes her the way she is. lestat treated louis's aversion to killing like a flaw, and louis internalized that, calling himself a botched vampire, but daniel likes that about him. louis is like alice in a way.

some wild conjecture: what if alice was an addict too? what if daniel somehow contributed to her addiction like lestat did with louis? what if alice stopped using like louis, while daniel continued like lestat? or maybe she never used any drugs, but started drinking due to strain on her marriage; a more indirect cause. and what about the kids? what if, like claudia becoming a blood drinker like her parents, daniel's kids ended up inheriting his addiction too? becoming alcoholics as teens or adults? or maybe it affected them even more directly, like one of them accidentally ingested something he left lying around, and almost died like claudia? okay, that got dark... maybe daniel avoided getting his kids directly involved, perhaps by simply not being around much, and that's one of the differences between their stories. narrative foils aren't supposed to be identical after all, just further the same themes. a parent's substance abuse affects the children, one way or another. we don't know the details, but like lestat's fledglings, daniel's kids don't talk to him anymore.

daniel proposed to alice "after he got his shit together" but we don't know when this was. we do know daniel had a daughter by 1978 (7 years before car seats are mandatory) though we don't know how old she was—probably under 6 given he was imagining her in a car seat. we can probably assume alice is the mom, and based on her commenting on this part of his memoir that he never owned a buick, we can probably assume they were together around this time, or at least in contact. we also know he used black tar heroin in 1978.

this is only like semi-canon but on his linkedin page it says he started working as a freelance investigative journalist in 1982. it could be a random date but i imagine he's "got his shit together", working real jobs. so maybe it was around this time that he and alice got married. if we're assuming the devil's minion mind wipe theory is true, it would also be very fitting if the confusion of lost memories was what drew him specifically to investigative journalism as opposed to the portrait pieces he did before that. he doesn't know what the truth is anymore, so he starts looking for it wherever he goes.

and speaking of devil's minion, if daniel was cheating on alice with armand, then he's a lot like lestat indeed. but his secret lover is so secret he himself doesn't even know about him anymore. (or maybe alice did know there was someone, and felt very gaslighted when daniel suddenly started insisting it never happened after basically admitting it before? or maybe daniel's denials just suddenly got so convincing she agreed to marry him?)

two marriages, two children?

in 1985, daniel and alice were talking past each other when she told him she was pregnant. he was like remind me again later

louis and lestat didn't have another kid together, but lestat did make another vampire: antoinette. lestat had a child! while the marriage was going badly, a few years after getting (back) together. just like our boy danny.

after "breaking up" with lestat, louis will also have a "child", madeleine. he's giving claudia a "sister" while he's dating armand.

so here's a two-part prediction: 1. alice dumped daniel before their second child was born. 2. daniel met his second wife before his second child with was born.

so like lestat turning antoinette, daniel got alice pregnant BEFORE getting dumped like lestat (pun intended).

and like louis turning madeleine, daniel's second child was born AFTER he met his (soon-to-be) second spouse.

what if, like armand, the second wife didn't like daniel spending much time with his kids? it's been known to happen. we know absolutely nothing about this second marriage but i think we'll get something in season 2. is there something daniel shares with armand as the types of husbands they make? i bet there will be

daniel's childhood?

we know where daniel is now, and a little bit about how he got here. but the thing we know absolutely nothing about is where he started.

daniel was already struggling with drug abuse by the time he met louis and armand, doing what he "had to" to get high. we know it's not really the only reason he frequented gay bars, but still. he was at a point where he was willing to play the crack whore. so what led to it? addiction doesn't come from drug use alone, and genes aren't enough either. there's always something you're struggling to cope with that leads you to drug abuse. so what was it? his sexuality could be enough, but i bet there's more to it than that.

if we're looking for lestat parallels, rape trauma works. maybe his interest in claudia's assault was personal, his flippancy a defense mechanism? certainly a possibility. but childhood trauma seems like the safest bet, doesn't it? lestat certainly had it. but i don't wanna focus on him now.

i mentioned earlier that daniel and claudia share a passion for the truth and for writing. what if he had some of her childhood too? abusive parents, parents abusing drugs or alcohol, parents fighting a lot, parents cheating on each other. pick as many as you like. maybe he was even a band aid for a shitty marriage. maybe there was a difficult divorce. maybe one of his parents had an awful new partner and said they'd dump them but never did, or got back together every time. picked someone else over him over and over again. he certainly had a lot to say about that! maybe he gets so incensed over being lied to because his parents always lied to him too. maybe his outburst wasn't about louis at all. maybe memory is the monster. maybe his parents cursed him into the darkness. lestat's did, and he cursed his own children in turn. i bet that's what happened to daniel too: they fuck you up, your mom and dad; the poison drips through; we dance on the strings of those who came before us; memory is a monster. maybe daniel became his own father too. his father or his mother or both. it's usually both, right?

this is louis's story first and foremost but parts of it are claudia and lestat and armand's too, and daniel functions as a funhouse mirror for all of them!!!

whew

in adding the chapter headings i ended up moving things around so idk how coherent this is but i fear proofreading would only result in me editing this forever and i would really like to avoid locking even more posts into the drafts vault. 😭 hopefully it coheres? thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts!

[raemanzu]

Summary:

Vector's descent into madness, as seen through the eyes of two of the palace staff, the woman who helped raise him and the man who helped poison his father, contributing to the king's declining health. An exploration of how the people around Vector felt and thought about him before and after his parents' deaths. Canon expansion - although the peace god is mentioned in the show, we came up with the name Asimir and the backstories for Brennit and Parmida, two important members of the palace staff.

Preview:

            “Please, can you craft a drink or some sort of tea to help our lord Vector calm himself and sleep?”

            A simple enough request, especially for Brennit. He was the palace’s resident expert on medicines, including poisons. But in the handful of decades he’d survived being born in this place, he had rarely been given such an order directly from Parmida, the de facto head of staff—usually she sent another servant with the message. And when she did deliver it herself, she had almost never looked like this, no matter how heavy a gloom of oppression rested on the palace. Now her round face, which rarely strayed from merriment or stoicism into any form of weakness, was flushed, her eyes damp and pinched at the corners.

            Well, many things were different, now. The queen had been killed just days ago, along with her tyrant husband. And Parmida had loved the queen dearly, along with her son the prince, now unrecognizable as the boy Parmida had helped to raise. Just as Parmida had helped to raise Brennit.

            “I can, of course,” Brennit said in a hushed tone, fully aware of how dangerous it was to be speaking in the open like this. Her hands were holding one of his in pleading, and they were sweaty. He lowered his voice further. “Just how strong do you wish it to be?”

            There had been a moment, when Brennit had heard the news of the king’s death, that his heart had soared, an elation unrivaled by any strong drink or other substance he had tried in his life. Finally, at last, they were free, he was free. No more kneeling to the whims of a king mad with his own power while even the palace children starved. And at last, all his practice at enduring the more personal abuses had paid off. No more submitting to those hands, that voice. The hot drunken breath on his neck.

Read more on AO3

[silken-threads-bah]

Hello! We'd like to request a headmate to be an in-person socializer for us!

The following are the most important traits: -Likes going to concerts and karaoke, especially if the goth, new wave, or heavy metal genres are involved (this is what a lot of our in-person social life revolves around) -Has a standard American accent (we're American but we often split alters with accents from other places and people in person frequently ask us where we're from and we'd rather they didn't JSDIOFGJSD) -Uses all pronouns, is asexual, and presents masculine but wears makeup (feel free to make the specifics of their identity whatever you want, as well as giving them preferred pronouns, especially neopronouns for use with our online friends) -Identifies with the body's age of 30 and ages with the body

The following are optional but appreciated: -Non-human in some way (species we get a lot include angels, demons, aliens, void entities (eldritch creatures comparable to both angels and demons and associated with creation and/or destruction), anthro animals, and asexual incubi/succubi/concubi* who prefer kink to sex) -Likes learning about different cultures/countries (especially France, Mexico, and Germany) and likes cooking the food and learning the languages. (We are bodily of French, Mexican, and German descent so if it's possible to include that they are too in some way, we would appreciate that.) -Has some kind of manager/responsible role, especially concerning managing finances, making appointments and phone calls, running our Etsy store (e.g. making the crafts, going to the post office to mail them, etc.), and/or managing our substance use*.

*Please disregard references to adult themes if you are a minor or if you aren't comfortable with them! I am an adult and the phrasing of one of your pages on this blog gives me the impression that you are too, but I could be mistaken, and I understand if you do not want to put those things on the template even if you are an adult.

I would like it to be one of the longer templates.

Thank you in advance for your time! ^_^

(Also, as per your rules and for the sake of transparency, we're letting you know we MIGHT submit this request or a similar one to another build-a-headmate blog at some point later, but this isn't a mass request and right now you're the only blog who has this request.)

Thank you so much for all of those details, wow!!! Sorry it took so long btw, we wanted to make sure we got enough detail in it since you went so in depth in your request! I hope this is okay, I went with the longer template since you gave so many specifics! - Eden

Name: phantom, wraith, ambrose, dorian, kieran

Age: 30, ages with the body

Pronouns: all pronouns, hy/shx/xey/fang are preferred though (could also use shade/shades, voi/voids, fog/fogs, ny/nycts/nycto/nyctoself,

Gender: pangender, masc presenting, sanctudark, gothcoric, moricrow

Orientation: asexual, loves to flirt though

Source: n/a

Roles: in-person socializer, manager, nummica, forportian

Personality: extroverted: loves to be in loud and chaotic places while surrounded by other people. responsible: takes charge of tasks that others find boring, tedious, or overwhelming because shx doesn't mind doing them. creative: xey love working with xeir hands and creating new things, hy will frequently front just to write down or work on creative projects for fun. Fang also fronts to fulfill orders and ensure the etsy shop is being kept under control. Xey're basically the type of person that does the things others don't really want to do because hy likes looking out for them. Like the friend that can't typically order unless they're with someone that hates ordering more than they do, then all of a sudden they're able to. Except hy doesn't mind being responsible.

Likes/interests: going to concerts and karaoke, goth music and the subculture in general, loves to learn about different cultures (hy likes learning about german culture the most because shx loves the sound of the language), the color black, the phases of the moon (hy keeps track of when the next full moon will be), watching the stars, the nighttime in general, going out with friends, when hy makes a to-do list and then manages to get all of the tasks crossed off, makeup and skincare, discussing and engaging in kinks

Dislikes: people who overreact over nothing just for attention, flashing lights, when hy can't get hxr eyeliner to be symmetrical, seagulls (one pooped on hymn once and now hy can never trust them again), squeaky chairs, stairs, walking long distances (unless it's at night, then fang enjoys it)

Kins: fallen angel kin

Other/extra info: hxr ears twitch when shx's mad or excited, fang has knocked things over with xeir tail multiple times and sometimes claims it's difficult to walk while fronting because xey aren't used to walking without a tail. Has an American accent but will talk in an exaggerated German accent for fun sometimes and likes to mimic other people's accents in the system to tease them.

Species: incubus

Faceclaim:

[bubblebass1]

What is happiness?

Recently, my sister asked me to fill out an interview for her project, and I have decided to include my answers to those questions here.

1.  Please tell me a little bit about yourself and your life. Who do you believe you are? What are the major milestones you’ve experienced that have brought you to where you are and who you are today?

I am 22 years old, a recent college graduate, a teacher, a woman, a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, and a creative person. I believe I am a good person, yet I am flawed which sets me back from the goodness I want to achieve in my lifetime. I take on various roles in my life, but the overarching goal in all of them is to support and guide others. However, my flaws are that I am ambitious, proud, and overly emotional myself.

There are a few major milestones that have pushed me into who I am today as a woman, many of which are unfortunate milestones that have forced me into a position of independence. For the formative years of my childhood, I grew up with separated parents, one of whom was an addict. Growing up with an abusive addict for a parent is difficult, but it teaches you skills such as learning how to read emotions and being in tune with others, but on the other hand, it leaves you without a model for how to control your own reactions and emotions. One of the hardest things was being separated from my mother at a young age, and then after years of no contact, she died from a drug overdose. Shortly after this occurred, my father, who had acted as a constant in my life, moved out of our home state and I stayed for college. This was extremely uprooting and taught me about independence. Even though this period of time in my life was like a whirlwind, I learned a lot about myself, such as that I value my independence, but I need certain supports in order to be successful. In knowing this, I aim to be the supports for others, since I wish that I had those supports throughout my life, instead of putting all my eggs in one basket and them sinking at the removal of them.

2.  What are the most meaningful experiences you can recall from your life? What experiences do you believe life should provide you?

The most meaningful experiences that I can recall from my life are those in which I have spent with the people who matter most to me. In more recent memory, I was able to go to Longwood Gardens in Pennsylvania with my boyfriend and all we did was walk around and look at plants, but it was some of the most meaningful experiences that I had that whole summer. Many of my favorite moments are spending quality time with my boyfriend, my siblings, my parents, and my friends. I also find joy in being recognized for my accomplishments such as when I got nominated for an award for my writing, when I published a story in an anthology with my university, or when I can share my skills with my classmates and offer edits and help with their writing or other creative projects.

I believe life should offer experiences that fulfill our need for connection and success in different ways. Connection with others is one of the most fulfilling experiences that life can offer, and I measure success in terms of happiness. While many view financial freedom as success (and that is valuable too), I find that life is more fun when you are chasing new experiences with the people you love, even if that means something as simple as walking around a garden.

3.  When do you feel truly happy? What do you believe happiness really is?

Happiness is not always an achievable goal for some people, especially those who believe that they can never have enough of it. This comes into play when people use substances or become addicts to sex, gambling, porn, or other things that create temporary happiness. I believe that true happiness is more in line with being content than anything else. In short, when you don’t want for things. I believe this because I have experience with addiction in my family, and this influences my viewpoint. When you don't want for things, this enables you to focus on the present and the current experiences you are having and build memories, which then will feed into further happiness and prevent unhappiness by equipping you with experiences to call back upon in times of need.

4.  What does your soul/true self want? Are you living a life that is aligned with that/those desire(s)?

I believe my true soul wants to feel needed. Selfishly, I want to feel like the people that I love need me and want me around. I also think that my soul yearns to be heard, and I believe that every person wants to be heard and accepted despite their shortcomings. I struggle to feel connection and love (I think because of my upbringing) and oftentimes will push people away in fear that my vulnerability is a turn-off. I think this is why my goal is to be someone who can support and guide others, since I often lack that same support and guidance, and see that many people are reaching out for it.

I am not living a life that is aligned with these values at the moment. I am kind of taking a backseat from what I want to be doing career-wise which would support my desire to help and listen to others, because I think that I need to be ready to listen before I take on such a monumental task. At this point in time, I am not ready to listen because I fear that I have so much to say that it clouds my judgement, my thoughts, and lessens my ability to support others since I am so stuck in my own head.

5.  What kind of impact do you want to have on the world? What legacy do you want to leave behind when you die?

I want to make other people happy. I think of my Grandma who passed away, and how she was so full of love for her family and wish my impact on this world could be something similar. I know that my impact radius will most likely be small, but as a teacher, I want to be able to inspire students to value others, rather than have an individualistic mindset. I think the people we often love the most are less individualistic, and more geared towards supporting the group, whether that be a family, a community, or even a classroom.

When I die, I don't want people to be sad, but rather I want them to be inspired to support others in my honor. I think about when I have grandchildren, how I would want them to remember me as someone who was helpful, loving, and wise. You cannot be wise unless you have knowledge of yourself and others.

6.  Will you share a hardship you’ve experienced in your life? Do you believe this hardship was associated with a culture you identify with? Why or why not?

A hardship that I have experienced in my life is the loss of my addict mother, and the removal of my father from my immediate support system due to a cross-country relocation. This is not a part of my culture or identity, my addict mother came from a wealthy background, she simply had a disease that unfortunately she could not be cured from. My dad moving away has nothing to do with my culture, just financial strain, and the need for a life change.

7.  If you looked back at a photo of yourself as a child, do you still identify with that person and those dreams? Please explain your response.

When I look at myself as a child, I see the changes that have occurred throughout my life and no longer identify with that person today. I think that my life experience has influenced my morals and values so deeply, that even the roots system that they are founded on is profoundly different from when I was a child. There are a few similarities that remain steadfast, including my need to be creative, my bubbly personality, and my sensitivity, but the dreams that I had when I was a kid are well and truly gone. When I was little, I wanted to be different than everyone else, I wanted to stand out. Now, all I want is to be a part of the group. In fact, I think I need to be a part of the group to feel good about myself or be successful.

8.  What does “living the good life” mean to you?

Author John Green once spoke about his experience as a bestselling author, and how when his novel, The Fault in Our Stars was released, he found himself touring around the country, making tons of money, getting invited to exclusive parties and events, and meeting prestigious and successful people. He claims that he was living "the dream." However, "the dream" was not his dream. He would much rather watch soccer with his friends, work out in the garden with his wife, and take walks with his kids. This is how I feel too. I think money is valuable only in pursuit of experiences with those we love.

[tipsycad147]

Using Ashes For Spellwork and Magic

One of the aspects of spellwork I love most is the layering of items, herbs, potions, symbols and colors that create a landscape of correspondences to empower the spell and its energy.

Candle dressing is one of those ‘layerings’ and though most of the time, candles are dressed with just oils or potions, Ashes are a powerful tool for me; especially for use in spellwork.

What Ashes Are In Magick + Spellwork

It is said that ashes hold no active energy, but I completely disagree.  Ashes are the alchemical result of fire and earth, water and air. Sympathetically it represents change, transformation, union of different parts and the whisper of its parts.  In other words, when you take, say, wood from Cedar, Manzanita, Oak, and Pine, as I have with my ash, burn it and collect the ash, what you have is a new substance. 

There is a very specific movement to this energy. Yes, deep and pervasive transformation, but it’s a cleansing, retreating, releasing and cutting away energy.

Consider ash and charcoal, it draws out, dries out and pulls back. This is a very refined type of movement and energy.

So when using ashes for shellwork, more than anything you’re tapping into the energetic of transformation and alchemy release, banishing, purifying and taking away in order to leave what is most purely left.

And the beauty of ash is that you can make it out of any combination of ingredients you choose. So the type of release or cutting away can be supported by the type of ash it is as well. The possibilities are endless.

Uses for Ashes in Spellwork

As with any single ‘ingredient’ we use magically, simply having a bit of it on your altar or on your person, holds the energetic intention for you.  The image above, where I have a small bowl of ash, can be a great anchor in and of itself.

As another example, I attend fire ceremonies for various deities in my personal practice, and often the ashes from those offerings that are burned are given to each of the participants of the ritual in order to have a ’tie’ or connection to that working that can then be kept on our personal altars.  I love this practice very much as when I’m working with that particular deity, I’ll have an altar erected for them, that also holds this container of ash as a resonant vibration of that ritual and devotion.  

Other uses are additives to potions, making it something to anoint tools, your body, places, circles and inks.  The last being something I love to do. Adding a smidge of intentional ash to a magical ink that you use to write in your Book Of Shadows or to create sigils with is a powerful layering that we can all easily be doing all the time.

This list isn’t by any means comprehensive, but I wanted to give special attention to candle dressing.

Candle Dressing with Ashes

Because of the particular energy of ash, dressing candles with it is best done when the intention fo the working is to banish, release, cord cut or purify. Again, remember, ash draws out, absorbs what you need it to.

I like to take my candles and with a hard fine instrument, I’ll carve a sigil, a word or rune into the candle. Then I’ll rub an oil all over it, especially into the grooves of the symbol. The oil I choose will also have energy in alignment to what I’m working on. Then, take the ash and rub it all over the candle, making sure it’s nice and thick over the symbol.

It’s messy, but then so is life, yes? You’ll feel the potency of the energy the instant you dress the candle in this way.

Sourcing Your Ash for your Spellwork

Again, you can create specific ash out of whatever ingredients you have on hand and mean something specific to you.  Ash is such a versatile ingredient! And it’s important to note that the blend I use and offered in boxes is made up of ingredients I have an abundance of supply of, because the Witches Box workshop is in the middle of a forest.

I say that to indicate that where this particular blend is powerful for me, it is not indicative of a recipe you have to have or should be seeking to create if you don’t have access to this combination of woods.  

Layering ingredients for ash in your spellwork is just as powerful if not more so, for you, if you create these combinations out of things that both have meaning for you and are accessible for you.

Sourcing ingredients for ash blends can be as easy as beginning to collect the ash left over when you burn a particular incense that you love and find particularly potent for things like divination, clearing, astrological work, etc.  

Consider the things you burn typically in your rituals and spells and you can begin to get an idea of the type of ash blends that will make most sense for you.

How To Create Ashes for Spellwork

I wasn’t going to include this here, but perhaps in the interest of thoroughness, I will. Spellwork is always most potent when we’re being responsible and informed!

Ash is what is left over after you have burned flammable items.  It can be dried herbs and twigs or logs of wood, it can be paper, fabric, incense, hair, oils on other flammable objects, etc.

There are a few words of caution here:  

 Be mindful of not burning things that are toxic to you and the environment such as plastics, synthetic fabrics, photographs or any other man made substance that you can’t readily find or create from natural products easily.  Magickally these items will be weak, unless you have ascribed special meaning to it, and then it may have power for you, but you have to weigh out whether the toxicity is worth it for you. Admittedly, there have been times when I have burned photos and kept the ash, but the smoke was absolutely toxic, so my alternative now is to just make a color copy of the image on a printer.  Still a bit toxic due to the inks, but no where near as much as an actual photograph.

And as always when burning anything, use caution so as not to burn yourself, your home or anything else down!

Witches! Do you work with the Moon phases in your magical practice? Do you want to learn more about how to deepen your understanding of the Moon phases in each sign as it moves through the archetypes of the zodiac, and how to practically apply your knowledge with guided rituals each month? The Moon Ritual Coven is made specifically for you. This monthly digital offering will empower you to work closely with the Moon phases each month, and work your magic with the power of the Moon.

[distant-screaming]

Even if you don't pay attention while watching 2moons you won't miss anything of substance haha 😅 in that sense, it's a perfect background noise show (if you need other series of that kind then I suggest oxygen or enchante)

I'll try to make my answers short cause I could talk all day 🪤 for me the plot, acting and chemistry between characters matter the most ig (in random order) 🪃 recently I've been dropping series left and right but if I don't find it that offensive, I'll still finish (but in 2x speed, I'm not big on skipping. and some series are much more palatable sped up - unforgotten night for example) 🛸 I'm on the same boat as you, it's not that difficult to make me cringe - accidental kisses, unnecessarily corny lines, people whipping a guitar out of nowhere and singing are just the tip of the iceberg.

Brace yourself, I have some more questions 😼

🗳️ Are there any secondary plot lines that you feel have been wasted potential? Or characters that you felt were intriguing but their story didn't get developed?

📼 Which scene(s) out of any series you could watch and rewatch 24/7 and why?

📝 If you could write an alternative ending to any show, what would you have done?

Good luck with your studies, by the way (I'm so glad that part of my life is already over and done with lol)

Oh yeah, definitely agree - 2moons is very much a fluff show so far. The Crush Shrine makes an appearance, and I want to cry a little bit, but otherwise we're business as usual (nothing is happening <3)!

Oooh thank you for the recs! I'll def check them out >:)

🪤Oooh, intriguing! Which shows have you watched that you've really enjoyed the acting of? (????? does that make sense? Let's pretend it makes sense) 🪃 Honestly, valid - especially unforgotten night soifgsej I've only watched that show through gifs but.......yeah 🛸 pain and misey forever (<- cannot do second hand embarrassment, enjoys bls)

🗳️ - hmm, to be honest, the shows I've watched so far do pretty good jobs of juggling secondary plot lines and characters (minus the obvious offenders eg sotus), but one I can think of off the top of my head is My Secret Love. It's an alright show, but I absolutely adored Park and Lee - the weird jealousy plotline they were given was. Weird. I didn't like it very much but the characters had so much potential!!

📼 ohhhh tons! The Iconic Kiss in bad buddy, the ending of Semantic Error, literally all of Gaya se Pelulika. BUT of course my number one series is The Eclipse - specifically, any scene from the whole beach section. The framing, the acting, the dialogue??? BRO. INSANE. This show literally has me in a chokehold <3

📝 - ....the answer is also The Eclipse for this question aodrejfr. I adore that show but the ending was definitely not up to the standards the show has set for itself. I'd rewrite the Thua apology, the beach singing (PLEASE. WHY) - the barebones are there already, it just needed to be tweaked a little. Also no singing.

I haven't had a chance to watch a ton of shows and I'm still new to the genre, so my answers will probably (definitely) change like 6 months from now sadkfljdaf

[fromelektra]

Other characters by H: Clary Fray @fromclary Yelena Belova @whxtewidxw Emma Swan @inredleather

~ Elektra Natchios (Marvel: MCU) ~

HIGHLIGHTS

( marvel , elodie yung , she/her , cis female ) ⋮ the census states that ELEKTRA NATCHIOS has been living in town limits for SIX MONTHS . it makes sense the HUMAN can be found hanging around A ROOFTOP BAR .  SHE  must be close to THIRTY FOUR by now , do you think they’re still as DANGEROUS as they were before ? i overheard they DO remember everything leading up until their arrival . nothing reminds me of them quite like GOLD BANGLES, RED LIPS, AN AIR OF MYSTERY . ( H , 21+ , pst , she/her , removed)

BIOGRAPHY

Elektra was raised by Stick, a blind martial arts master and member of “the chaste” (Secret organization who banded together to fight “the hand,” which is a shadowy organization focused mainly on gaining immortality, committing heinous acts upon humanity in order to achieve their goal..) Elektra was raised to become a weapon for the chaste, her training focusing mostly on martial arts and weaponry,  though she proved to be too much of a bloodthirsty wildcard for the organization. Stick was pressured to “do away with” Elektra, but he made the call to spare her instead, secreting her away in a private adoption to a wealthy Greek couple. Elektra viewed this as an abandonment by Stick, though he did it to ultimately spare her life and keep her safe. Later in life, they would be reunited and Elektra would continue to aid him in his seemingly unending war against the hand. When tasked with recruiting Matthew Murdock to join up with Stick  and the Chaste, Elektra failed to do so when she fell in love with Matt instead. The two had a tumultuous relationship, Elektra always seeking to draw out the darkness in Matt, and he doing the same with the light he saw in her. Though they could compliment each other in many ways, it seemed they always ended up at odds. They fought well at each other’s side, but it cost Elektra her life (seemingly) more than once. The hand used the “Black Sky” substance to resurrect Elektra in order to use her as their ultimate weapon, sending her into battle against Matthew (as Daredevil)  and his new team of “Defenders.” Elektra allegedly died when the building that she and Daredevil were in crumbled from an explosion, but she escaped with her life at the very last moment.

PRESENT DAY

Elektra let her loved one’s believe she was dead, allowing her to start a new life and allow those who knew her to grieve and move on. She believed they were better off without her in their lives. She found herself in the town of Lock Hollow, and while it was far more quaint than a debutante would normally prefer, she began to see it’s charm fairly early on. She’d always traveled the world in private jets and staying in five star hotels. It could get boring, lonely. She’d never tried living in a small town before, and was surprised to find herself enjoying her time here. 

Here, she works as an antiquities dealer. Her extensive knowledge of the world and countless cultures makes her expertise invaluable. She enjoys her work, especially surrounded with beautiful things that remind her of all the places she’s visited. Why leave the town, when you have so many incredible reminders of the vastness of the earth right here?

PERSONALITY

 Elektra can be as charming as she is deadly. There are many facets to her personality, and which version you get depends entirely on what it is she wants from you. Very few people know the “real” Elektra. She appears confident, cool, collected, often times flirtatious even. If you are on the other side of her sai, she is cold, relentless, and merciless. She is morally grey, a true neutral character. She has her own code of ethics, which rarely align with those around her. Elektra was raised as a warrior, to be a weapon. Emotions were a sign of weakness, so even though she does have them, she plays it close to the vest. She is rarely vulnerable, regularly hiding behind quips and sarcasm. She trusts very rarely, trying to keep everyone at arms length, even those she loves. She is very difficult to get to know, but if you do manage to get that close to her, her loyalty is unyielding.

APPEARANCE

Elektra is five feet and seven inches tall. She is gracefully built, making her excellent in her (former) line of work due to her swiftness. She has long, silky black hair and dark eyes. She has a very impressive, yet intriguing RBF. Elektra is of Cambodian and French descent. 

MISC HEADCANONS

Elektra spends a lot of time at rooftop bar, where she can be alone and enjoy the view- whether that be the town, or it’s people. She is fascinated by human behavior as a whole. 

Everyone knows her, but not by name. She is the mysterious woman who sits alone in the corner of the bar, observing. Few have the courage to come up and talk to her, but she loves it when they do. 

She has a strange feeling, somewhere in her gut that she cannot name- but if she really tried hard enough to understand it, she would recognize it as loneliness. 

[copperbadge]

Sam - You probably already know this, but I just heard that Adderall is now on back-order nationwide (even worse than it had been before). If you can start trying to re-order it well before you run out this time, I'd recommend it. I don't know if that's possible, though...

Unfortunately -- but also fortunately! -- it’s not possible. Because it’s a controlled substance that can both be abused by the patient and sold for a reasonable profit, it’s got very firm regulations. You get one scrip for a 30 day supply (you can’t have more) and then on day 30 you can file a whole new scrip (no refills!) for your next 30 day supply. This is a bit bullshit because there’s no real reason not to give someone who has a history of regular non-abuse a 90 day supply or two refills, but it’s legal meth, so you know, I see why the bullshit is in place. 

So it’s Bad, obviously, because it means I can’t get a refill now while there might be some still in stock; my 30-day deadline is next Friday and there’s no moving that. So that’s me fucked a bit. However, this is also Good, because it means nobody else can do this either -- you can’t create artificial demand when it comes to Adderall, because nobody can buy out the entire stock or take more than their share. So while it would be much more ideal if I had renewed my scrip last week, the demand will only rise as much as the immediate action of people who are normally slow to fill their scrips, which I can’t imagine is a lot. Like yes we all have executive dysfunction but I think a lot of us have a real laser focus on the Good Brain Drug, you know? 

The real problem is an uneven backstock. Some pharmacies will probably have a reasonable amount, others will be out for weeks.  The pharmacy I use is a perpetually-empty Walgreens that nobody ever goes into or uses because nobody lives near it (I work near it) so I might get lucky. 

Usually, so far, the protocol for me has been "every 30 days have a consult with my psychiatrist, he puts in a new scrip, they fill it". This time, OF COURSE this time, we're trying something new -- he wrote two scrips at once, one got filled, the other one gets submitted by me on the 30 day mark. So I’ll call the pharmacy on Monday and be like “I’m not freaking out about the shortage, I just need to know when I should submit a scrip that can’t be filled until Friday” but hopefully I’ll also get some info on the shortage. 

And if I can’t get any immediately, well, I take frequent breaks and often don’t take my second dose, so I did the math in my tracking sheet and I have enough to see me halfway into November, especially if I don’t take any on weekends. I don’t love breaking into my personal backstock, but that’s why it exists, after all. This is a much bigger deal for people who really need the drug for basic function -- people on higher doses are going to be significantly more fucked. 

I may ask my psych next time I see him if I could get on a 20mg scrip so I can split the tabs and make a 30 day supply last 60 days; I don’t think it’s normally something he’d approve of but with the shortage it might be the best way to secure a reasonably-sized emergency stash. 

And I think all of this -- the spreading of the news, the counting of backstock pills, the strategies to stabilize one’s personal supply -- are really fascinating evidence of how treating non-addicts like addicts...makes them behave like addicts. If half the population of Adderall patients had a 90 day supply in hand, this shortage wouldn’t be such an issue. 

[petitebonnie]

Hello! This my first time writing about fnaf scenarios ♡ I hope you like it, please like or comment¿? (Still new to dis app ;u;)

Characters: Freddy, Bonnie and Chica.

Inculdes: soft fluff ♡

Freddy Fazbear

You and Freddy have grown to like each other a lot. In the beginning, your favorite animatronic was Foxy.

So you always went over to the piartes cove to talk to him. You knew he wasn't actually alive, in a way. But It made Freddy a bit jealous seeing all your attention go to the old fox and hearing his dumb pirate puns and stories.

But your visits too Fazbear's grown a lot, so you decided you wanted to work there. You were a great waitress, many children liked you and the staff like you too. The male staff get along with u best, since the catty female workers get jealous sometimes or competitive. But Freddy would fume! Seeing how nice u were with the other staff members.

He wanted to be the one to swoon you over, hold your hand, have long conversations with you - heck even make u laugh till u can't breathe anymore.

He was a gentleman, after all, and an animatronic. He felt something for you - he wasn't sure why, but he wanted to find out why.

You offered to clean up the animtronics. You kept hearing complaints from parents how the pizzeria smelled like rotting meat. You questioned it being the animatronics, but you wanted to make people happy, meaning make more tips.

That's how u and Freddy met, after cleaning all three of the other animatronics. You were very gentle with scrubbing the artificial furr and removing Freddy's bow tie, hat, and microphone. He watched as you cleaned his hands, arms, chest, and his feet.

He was so flustered when u cleaned his face, especially how gentle your touch was. He sometimes gets way too nervous thinking he smells too bad, and u might not want to clean him.

But you cleaned all of the animatronics, you always made sure scrubbing off whatever pizza sauce or soda was penetrated on there furr but you also bought them nice vinalla/blueberry scent bodysoap for there furr, So they smell nice.

After a long day at the pizzeria, you finished all your tables and orders. Gently wiping the sticky substances off each table and candy wrappers - sweeped confiti and trash, etc.

" Evening, miss (Y/N). " Freddy hummed behind you. You looked over your shoulder, seeing the 6 foot animatronic tower u with a smile. You gently waved tierdly up to him. " Heya, Fur ball. " he hated that nickname, and you enjoyed teasing him with it.

It made him think his little mane of furr was always messy.

He made a soft whine of disapproval of your "mean" nickname calling. " How was your day, dear? tiring, I assume. " Freddy gently placed his big paw/hand on your shoulder.

You gazed up at him, watching his eyelids express a worried/sad look. You put the broom up against a chair and turned around to face him, giving him a big bear hug. " Yes.. it was very busy today. But I missed you! " If he had a tiny little tail to express his happiness, he would definitely be wagging it.

" Missed me? " he chuckled, lovingly rubbing your back. Wrapping his arm around your waist. " My dear, you were around me all day? Especially keeping the children away from me. " he laughed. You pouted and frowned up at him. " awh! You know why, though! They always have something sticky on their hands! I'd have to keep bathing you. "

He hummed in response, " Or maybe my dear (Y/N) is.. Jealous? " Freddy cooed, watching your body language closely.

"Jealous?!" You playfully gasp. You giggled as u turned away from your cheeky boyfriend. Freddy wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling u close he made a soft growl. (In a loving way, don't worry c:)

" Yes dear~, you have nothing to worry about. They're just children, and you are my entire world. " he carefully grabbed your hand, placing a kiss against it.

" You mean that? " you said, turning around mid sentence, fixing his bow tie.

" Always. " Freddy placed a kiss on your head, hearing a gently squeak sound from his nose.

" Good! Cause I love you more, Fur ball. " you said with a grin on your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonnie

Bonnie fell in love with you at first sight.

He was so interested in you. He always saw kids running around, playing, or even trying to feed Chica pizza.

Parents sitting at booths talking on the phone or watching their children play.

Same old same old.

But you? You always interacted with the animatronics. You loved them all, and you came to the pizzeria a lot as a kid.

Bonnie doesn't remember, though. It's understable- they are old animatronics. They don't get proper care, so sometimes their scanners or memory chips just fade.

You met Bonnie on the stage, of course. You always talked to him. But you didn't think he would respond!

Once u two talked more about your likes and interests. You two became best friends, always sneaking him out the stage, hearing him play his gutiar for you and maybe sing a little.

But he is a little shy about it, so don't be mean!

He sometimes draws little bunnies for you whenever u come visit him. Which is almost every day. You were, in fact, the number one customer at the pizzeria.

But sometimes, he would even

" Sugar ? " You shook your head, looking at Bonnie. " Oh yeah? Sorry- did u say something? "

Bonnie frowned. He placed his gutiar to the side. He was trying to teach you the notes on the gutiar. But you were daydreaming. " What were ya thinking about, muffin ? " Bonnie said in a slightly annoyed tone.

He hates it when u think about something other than him- especially when he teaches/shows u things he loves/likes. But Bonnie didn't know that you were thinking of him.

"Oh - nothing honey buns -" you playfully winked, sitting criss cross style on the stage. Your hang out spot is mainly at the stage. But dont worry, Chica is always in the kitchen, Foxy never leaves his cove. And Freddy.. we don't know what he does - sometimes u see him in the girls' bathroom -

" Is that right.." Bonnie said. In a tone, u knew he didn't believe you. He was sitting in front of u, and he placed his paw on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "You like Freddy, huh -" he said.

"Wh- Freddy?! What gave u that idea!-" You scrunched your nose at him. Bonnie laughed. You loved his laugh. It was deep but in a cheery way? " Hahaa! Nah, I'm just messin' with yah princess. "

You rolled your eyes, smiling. He removed his hand from your thigh, patting his lap. Immediately, u knew what he meant, and carefully u hopped on his lap, nuzzling his light furry chest.

" Awh, you could never replace me toots. You know that, don't yah?. " he smugly said, placing his hands on your waist. Caressing them as he waits for your response.

" Of course I do, you’re my bugs - " you squealed and giggled against his lips as he immediately shut you up with a kiss.

" HEY- I'm waaay better than that dumb bunny! More handsome, too.." he murmurs against your lips. You laughed, playing with his ears. Earing a purr from the big ol bunneh.

His ears perked upwards, he reached for his gutiar, and he pulled a little folded note. Handing it to you- you didn't notice it was even on the neck. (Part of the gutiar, where the strings are ^^)

"Oh? What's this?" You asked, Bonnie rolled his eyes. Kept his same smugged expression. " Yah gotta open it dumb dumb. " Gently booping your nose, you stuck your tongue at him and opened the little folded note.

♡ It was you and him holding hands ♡

You looked at him in awe. " This is so cute bon bon! I have so many of these, but this one is my absolute fav. " You kissed his nose.

" Oh yeah, by the way- " you said. Bonnie's ears lightly being perked.

" You're a bit handsome compared to bugs bunny - "

" Hey! "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chica

Chica met you in the kitchen. You were the best chef in the whole planet!

Chicas words exactly.

You caught her stealing pizza and fries. You didn't inform the manager, but u let her eat SOME of the food. You didn't mind making more pizza or wings, etc.

But Chica doesn't believe she can't actually eat food. She smells it somehow and just needs to shove it in her mouth. Like the delicious pizza you make every day for families!

Carl (the cupcake) tells her she can not or else she's gonna go back to parts and services. Like the last time.. you aren't a technicne of any kind. All you know is how to cook pizza (and more).

During your spare time, you have lunch breaks, and you eat with Chica sometimes. She is usually busy with other kids or entertaining them with songs.

When u do have your breaks with her, you give her little little portions of your food. Like a piece of pepperoni or maybe a piece of chicken from your wings.

Yeah, yeah, u know it's bad, but a widdle won't hurt, right?

"Heya (Y/N) ! Can you make pizza today?" She happily chirped. She ran up to you and hugged u tightly. She always holds your hand. She likes letting everyone know that you're her little chefy girlfriend . You hugged her back, holding her hand as u gave it a small kiss. " Mwah! Of course, my love. What kind would u like? " You smiled.

It made u so happy that she loved anything u made. Even if u accidentally burned it or put too much seasoning (which is so rare for you, you're always focused. Unless she peppers you with kisses as u cook)

" Thank yooou~!, and cheese pizza please. " she blushed lightly, looking down at you.

Oh yeah- I forgot to mention. Chica is way taller than you. (If you're tall, sorry in advanced D:)

She leaned down, wrapping her arms around your small form, squishing your hips. She pressed your head against her chest softly. You nuzzled in between her chest. You loved that squishy, soft feeling of her body, and she knew that's where u love resting your head against the most, besides her thighs.

" Would u like me to stay for the night again? We can watch movies and I'll cook for you?.. " You looked up at her with puppy eyes.

You do that mostly to get what u want, usually works for her. Sometimes u can't always sleep over. The other animatronics like scaring u or mess with you and Chica, and she hates it! You two sometimes don't always get alone time.

She softly sighed, gently running her hands through your hair. You let out a satisfying sigh. She knew you loved that too.

" Maybe cupcake.. u know how the others are. But maybe we can sleep in the kitchen?!. " She squeaked, looking down at you for approval. Chica placed her hands against your hips.

Chica is a huge touchy, touchy girlfriend of yours. She loves to grab and squeeze your fleshy parts. Especially your breasts, those are her absolute favorite.

" That's a great idea, we can lock the door as well! Making sure they don't get in." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully after that comment. You laughed it off, standing on your tippy toes, giving her a sweet kiss. She shyly returned a soft kiss back, being careful not to accidentally harm you.

" Sounds perfect! I'll make sure to make it worth your while. "

[sensitive-charmy]

Things I think Kingdom Hearts executed really well Actually:

The Land of Departure becoming Castle Oblivion - This was not something I could have ever predicted, and it isn’t so out of the question that it feels like it came from nowhere. It makes sense. It’s super awesome and unexpected. It explains why Castle Oblivion even exists in the first place and why no one can totally properly navigate through it. It’s just awesome. Watching Aqua change the Land of Departure in BBS is one of my absolute favorite scenes. I always watch with rapt attention, speechless, amazed.

Xemnas’ interest in Castle Oblivion and the Chamber of Repose - Working off of my first point, this is part of the reason why the Land of Departure being Castle Oblivion works so well. Considering Xemnas is the Nobody of Terranort, it would make sense for him to have at least some of Terra’s memories. The cutscene of Xemnas referring to Aqua’s armor as “friend” hits like a ton of bricks when all the info is given to you, as well as his desire to find the Chamber of Waking in order to find Ven. It’s interesting to think of Xemnas as a sort of extension of Terra and not just Xehanort. This is equal parts sad and amazing with just a touch of creepy.

The reveal of Riku being Sora’s Dream Eater - Maybe I’m dumb, but I went through all of Dream Drop Distance and didn’t ever question why Riku had the Dream Eater symbol on his back. This twist caught me completely off guard, and that’s why it’s so cool. All the information was there for you from the beginning; it’s just whether or not you put the pieces together. And once Ansem explains it to Riku, all of it makes sense. The entire game comes together in a wild, new way. I think this was one of the coolest twists in the entire series.

Aqua’s character in BBS - The girls in Kingdom Hearts are a little difficult for me because they barely get any screen time and Kairi, Naminé, and Xion are all mirrors of one another in some kind of way. It’s hard to love them without doing a little bit of my own imagination. Or my love is based on minimal substance. Aqua, on the other hand, was a totally new character, completely removed from the three previous females, she was fully playable, and she carries the story of Birth by Sleep. She’s a fearsome warrior and keyblade master. She doesn’t shy away from her femininity. She acts as a very matriarchal character in her trio, but she’s not limited to that role. She has flaws. She’s just handled so well, especially in comparison to the other women in the series, and I have so much respect for her. The only reason I specify “in BBS” is because I feel like she lacks her full character in KH3, the same way Kairi, Naminé, and Xion all receive poor treatment throughout the series.

[huenjin]

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu. 

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high. 

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa. 

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts. 

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him. 

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again. 

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?" 

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting." 

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head. 

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?" 

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air. 

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?" 

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him. 

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you. 

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain. 

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments. 

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position. 

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp. 

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now. 

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up. 

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains. 

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much. 

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain. 

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains. 

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy. 

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder. 

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink. 

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning,  "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited! 

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic. 

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man. 

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake. 

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while. 

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him. 

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster. 

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs. 

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin. 

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own. 

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly. 

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane. 

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together. 

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans. 

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger. 

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth. 

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder. 

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body. 

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been. 

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically. 

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you. 

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him. 

“Hey,” you say and smile. 

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology. 

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend." 

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

[rafescoke]

hiiiii!!

Can I please request a rafe x reader based on that song need to know by doja cat.

Basically the reader heard rumors about the rafe’s and he’s past with his ex. Basically all saying how he was a 10/10 on bed. The reader is furious but sad and quickly confronts the rafe. You can choose the ending. Smut or fluff ending!!

Also pls post the rafe x reader, jj fic with the 19 chapters plsssss!!!! I beg you!

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Straight smut, hella angst, substance, swearing, Rafe being a total dick

A/N: this one shot’s too long but i hope you will love it. i poured all my love into this however this isn’t my best work and im sorry!! 

p.s, i’m always open for requests <3

“Hey! thanks for coming,” Topper smiled, hugging Rafe’s side before kissing (Y/N)’s cheeks. He ushered them both to the middle of the ongoing party, to the centre where all of Rafe’s friends were hanging out. 

(Y/N) is never a fan of parties, especially the ones that she will have to tug on Rafe’s collars for them to finally enjoy the night alone. However, she passed up the chance of watching netflix with her partner tonight to go to Topper’s birthday party, since, it was, well, Topper’s celebration. 

If it had not been for Topper, she wouldn’t even bat an eye to this party, especially when she knows the amount of girls silently crushing on her boyfriend of 6 months now. Rafe’s incredibly handsome, with his hair messily parted and his blue eyes shining everytime they’re exposed to the glowing sunlight of Obx. . .  (Y/N) couldn’t justify why he would even choose her. 

“What are you thinking?” Rafe playfully groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s waist near him. His fingers played with the hem of her dress, giggling when she hissed, swatting his hands away. “Seriously. You’ve been quiet since we got out of the car.”

“I just don’t like the attention’s you’re getting tonight,” she sighed, rolling her eyes when Rafe poked her, an amused expression plastered on his face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re this proud prick.”

Rafe laughed, throwing his head back, his hands still around her waist. She waited for him to regain his posture before kissing his cheeks. 

“Go and find Topper. I know you want to kiss him.”

“Not as much as I want to kiss you,” Rafe replied, laughing again when (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him before walking away to go and get some drinks for herself. In truth, Rafe doesn’t understand why she would feel so inferior towards other girls; she’s simply the most beautiful girl he’ve ever laid his eyes on. No one can ever compare to (Y/N), and that’s for sure.

(Y/N) muttered a thanks when someone handed her a beer, standing on her toes to search for her friends. When she couldn’t see any of them, she began making her way towards Rafe and Topper. She decided that instead of waiting alone in the resting area of the club while everybody else is socialising, she would rather listen to whatever Rafe and his friends were conversing, knowing that somehow she’ll find something interesting in the discussion.

That was when she bumped into a figure, causing the person to drop the drink they were holding onto her front dress. (Y/N) groaned, not liking how she was already ruining the branded new dress she bought with Rafe. The smell of strong alcohol wafted into her nostrils, causing her to scrunch her nose.

“Watch where you’re going,” the person said, and  (Y/N) rolled her eyes before finally leaving the scene, not wanting to stir any unnecessary drama. She knows it will always end up dirty and Rafe will have to calm her down in the car. 

(Y/N) pushed her way through the swarm of sweaty bodies as the dress reeked with alcohol clung onto her body, and she momentarily regretted her choice of wearing a skin tight short sequin dress to a club where dropping drinks on someone is just something that is bound to happen.

She sighed when she finally reached the bathroom, quickly washing her stains with the cheap toilet paper. It left some white bits on her dress when she finally removed them, and she groaned again before washing the fabric under the running water. Her day was going totally bad, and she dreamed of the night she could’ve spent with Rafe if only Topper wasn’t born on yesterday’s date 19 years ago. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” a loud voice shrieked, followed by group of shrill laughs. “God, I really wish I’m still with him.”

(Y/N) raised her brows at the familiar voice, but thought none of it. Topper wouldn’t invite Rafe’s ex, he knows what she did to him. There was no way she was allowed to be in the private part of the club, unless someone had brought her as their plus one. 

(Y/N) shook her head at the thought, trying to focus on the stains that seemed to be making everything hard for her.

“He has this habit of running his fingers through his hair when he’s receiving head,” the voice continued, and  (Y/N) stopped in her tracks.

That’s exactly Rafe. Whoever the voice was, she was talking about Rafe. Rafe has this habit of running his long fingers through his hair while he’s whimpering, and it always drives (Y/N) crazy. 

She thought nothing of it, thinking about the possibility of another guy doing the same thing. It’s a common thing anyways; she wasn’t going to pull the crazy jealous girlfriend card that night.

She turned to pull another tissue paper, her ears still intently listening to the group of friends who seemed to not mind receiving any attention from their bold topic. 

“Now he’s with that (Y/L/N) girl. I honestly don’t get why he would be with her. Oh and-” the voice squealed, “Do you know that Rafe called me when they were talking?” 

What?

“What?” her friends asked in disbelief, and  (Y/N) didn’t move a muscle. She pressed her back against the tiled walls, listening close. Her heartbeat beat faster, and she could feel her head getting lighter.

“Yes! It was like, the first month they started getting close? He told me he couldn’t get over me and that he tried everything including finding me in her.”

(Y/N) felt the walls closing in, and quickly got to her feet to splash some water onto her face. She felt like dying right then and right there, but she knew she had to at least hear more to, now identified, Rafe’s ex girlfriend.

“He drove to my house and we just talked, you know. . . and then he told me something, and I refused. He got mad, I guess, and we fought like always, and he left me to be with that girl until today. Kinda sucks to be her, you know? Like the second choice kind of thing?” she continued, an amused tone lacing in her voice.

At that point,  (Y/N) had heard enough. She walked towards the exit as fast as her heels could take her, not stopping to stay goodbye to her now approaching friends. She could feel her hot tears crashing down, but she didn’t feel like crying in the club and having random strangers coming up to her to soothe her down.

When the night breeze hit her square on the face as she finaly exited the suffocating club, she let out the hardest cry ever as she tried to find any available taxis through her tears. There were none, seeing that it was only 9 p.m. and people had just starting to arrive, so she decided to walk to nowhere until she finds any yellow vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” a voice called out from behind her, and she turned when a hand pulled her shoulder. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Where’s Rafe?”

“Kelce, I’m not feeling good. I just want to go home, okay? Please, oh my god. I can’t do this right now,” she cried, covering her eyes with her palm. Kelce pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears on his new t-shirt. When she finally soothed down, he tried to find an answer in her face again.

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you now, I just-” she took a deep breath, “I just can’t. Can you um, call a Uber for me, please? My phone’s with Rafe.”

“What? Why would your phone-” he sighed, taking out his own phone. “Borrow my phone. It’s safer this way. Call a Uber, get home, and don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, kissing Kelce’s cheeks before ordering a Uber, waiting by the sidewalk impatiently. She was scared Rafe would come out to look for her, and she didn’t feel like talking to him. 

She felt like shooting him in his ribs until he’s begging for her to stop. 

When she got home, her fingers trembling and her dress now ruined, she stripped out of her clothes and got under her covers. Her mother tried asking her about why she had come home earlier than expected with a running mascara and a smudged lipstick, but decided to let it pass when she didn’t answer, knowing that something has indeed happened. 

She felt like screaming. She had trusted him so much, and he was even the first guy to take her virginity. Now she felt disgusted, thinking about how she had allowed herself to the sweet words he had given her before.

She couldn’t ignore the memory of the night she first experienced sex with him, and the whole sweet care he had provided after.

It was Friday the 13th, and Rafe decided it will be a good night to watch some type of a horror movie.  (Y/N) agreed, being a fan of horror, but until one point, she was bored with the super-slow plot and boring characters. 

She played with Rafe’s fingers, intertwining them with hers, before she got an idea midway of the female character’s scream that echoed throughout her bedroom. 

“Rafe,” she said, and Rafe hummed in response. His eyes were fixated to the screen, not paying any attention to her. She whined, “Rafe. . .”

“Yeah?” He finally looked down to her, and laughed when he saw the face she gave him. “What the hell is wrong with you? The best part’s coming up. Watch it, the guy’s going to- fuck.”

(Y/N) had slipped her hand into his basketball shorts, teasing the outline of his v-line. Rafe’s breath shuddered, and he grabbed her hands before things escalate.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He grunted.

“I just wanna try something,” she replied innocently, and Rafe swore he felt like his heart stopping right then and right there. She was that sweet girl, and he has never saw this side of her.

“Can I?” she asked, and with a tiny nod, she continued her movements as Rafe’s eyes stayed glued on the television screen, though his mind was already on cloud nine. 

She was so good, and Rafe couldn’t explain the feeling inside of him when he watched her palmed him, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling down to her shoulders. Rafe felt like attacking every inch of her, wanting to give anything that she desired. 

“Stop,” he said, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum from just your hands.”

“I want you to,” she said, and Rafe cursed. He liked, scratch that, he loved and is obsessed with the way she did anything to him, with her innocent eyes and her teasing smile. He felt like fucking her numb every single time she purposely brushed her hands against his buldge in the restaurant or bumping her bottoms against him when playing golf.

And when she would deny her actions, god, he felt like giving his all to her until she couldn’t walk.

“Rafe,” she said again, with that gint in her eyes. She leaned onto him, and he shievered when he felt her lips brushing with his earlobes. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

Rafe groaned, not wanting to look her in the eyes, afraid that he would do things he will regret the next morning. He felt her fingers around his chin, forcing him to look at her. 

“Please.”

“You told me you wanted to wait,” he said softly.

“I’m done waiting,” she had said, and that was enough for Rafe to crash his lips against her soft ones, pushing her lightly to her queen sized bed. He felt her hands playing with the hem of his shorts, and being an impatience fuck like his dad, he guided her hands to his already hard penis, craving for her touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes to the euphoric feeling starting to form in the pit of his stomach. His fingers fumbled with her shorts, trying to untie the waistband, and grunted when he couldn’t gues the knot.

(Y/N) giggled, untying the ribbon, sliding her shorts to the edge of her bed as Rafe waited with his eyes staring at her hands eagerly, like a prey waiting to attack. 

Once her shorts were off, Rafe didn’t waste anymore time to place kisses from her stomach down to the sides of her aching core.  (Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore, after so many nights of trying to picture this exact moment in her head whilst fingering herself, pretending like it has been Rafe’s fingers instead of herself, she wanted to feel him around her so bad. 

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, looking at him with the innocent eyes again. She moaned when he inserted his fingers in her, pleasuring her the way pornstars would from the many porn videos his cousin had taught him to watch since he was 10 before.

“Oh my god,” she screamed, not able to comprehend the strange feeling in her stomach. She tried to close her legs, only for Rafe to gripped them apart tightly, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging.”

It was the way he had said that that left  (Y/N) all red, pushing herself against him to reach her end. She felt a sudden feeling approaching, and gripped Rafe’s wrist to tell him. 

Rafe laughed when she had came around his dingers, feeling her juice soaking up his fingers and her bedsheet.  (Y/N) sighed, still heaving from her high, making a mental note in her head to love this other side of Rafe Cameron.

“Suck,” he said, placing his two soaked fingers in front of her face and watched her as she sucked on them like a little girl who’s licking off a lollipop that her mother had bought for her. He felt like cumming just from the sight of her face.

“I want you inside me,” she had said again, and Rafe groaned to look away, not wanting to be a regret she had made the next morning. He looked at her again when she sat on his lap, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Please?” she whispered, and before he knew it, she licked his ear to the the side of his lip before placing a soft peck on his lips.

Rafe has never removed his basketball shorts as fast as he did that night, not even when he had felt an animal crawling in his pants in the pet shop when he was 8 that resulted Sarah into having a laughing fit when they found out that a hamster had gotten into his pants.

He positioned himself in front of her slit, waiting for any new demands for him to stop now that she had changed her mind. But there was nothing, only  (Y/N) demanding for him, and without wasting any more time, he slowly slided into her, strecthing her hole.

He grunted when she felt her closing in, knowing that if she kept doing that, he’ll finish straight away.  (Y/N) screamed as he fucked her with a quick pace, causing him to quickly pull her head close to him to whisper into her ear.

“Shut up, princess. Don’t want mummy and daddy to wake up, do we?”

(Y/N) shook her head, wanting to reach her end soon. She moaned against her mattress, smelling Rafe’s scent from it, and liking the way he would whimper when he hit her g-spot.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck-” he cursed, his pace getting sloppier. His fingers with his cold rings intertwined with hers as he slammed into her for good measure, and pulling out to aim on her face as she tried to regain her breath.

(Y/N)  felt a shot of hot load landing on her face as she finally looked up to him, his sweaty chest heaving from the ungodly practice they just did. Rafe groaned, feeling himself getting hard again from the sight of her with his load all over her, and quickly turned away to grab a clean towel to clean her up.

That night, with a soft lullaby playing from  (Y/N)’s record player that Rafe had bought for her in Italy, he ran his fingers through her hair as she snuggled close, watching the moonlight brightened the ocean.

Rafe sighed, now wrapping his arms around her, forcing himself to not touch her breast in any way. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you had pictured in your mind.”

“Are you kidding?” she turned to face him, “God, Rafe. That’s exactly how I wanted it with you.”

Rafe chuckled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “God. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Riing! Riing!

(Y/N) wiped her tears with her fingers before pressing on the green button, bringing the phone to her ears when she saw Topper’s name. She decided that he deserved an explanation after she had ran off from his birthday party.

“Tops?”

“Hey, baby, you didn’t pick up my call. I have to use Topper’s phone but, um-”  (Y/N) heard the crowd sang happy birthday, “But um, are you okay? Kelce told me you were crying and I-”

“I’m fine. You should sing happy birthday to Topper.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he said to a voice in the background, and tried to talk to her again. “What is it, baby? The line’s kinda shitty here. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I know you’re not. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“It’s nothing, Rafe. Go and enjoy yourself.”

“God,  (Y/N), don’t pull this shit on me,” he sighed, and she waited until the background noise lessen. “Okay, I’m at the smoking area. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“You used me.”

“I’m - what?” he asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I heard her talking about how you drove to see her and you told her that you tried finding her in me,” she finaly confessed, her voice breaking. A tear slowly rolled down her red cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.

“Baby, it’s not how it sounds like.”

“Then what is it?” she yelled, clutching onto Kelce’s phone like it was her life support. “Fuck, Rafe, I gave you my everything.”

“Baby, I swear, it’s just-”  

(Y/N) waited for him to finish his sentence, and sucked in a breath when she heard the voice that had caused her this misery.

“Rafe! What are you doing here?”

“Fuck,  (Y/N), I’ll come by to your house, okay? Please, don’t do anything stupid, I’m coming back home-”

(Y/N) pressed the end call, letting go of the breath she was holding before finally throwing her head back against the pillow. 

#Part 2

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