#please don't fuck up the format again i beg you

[kyuuviix]

first time posting el oh el!!!

NSFW warning!!! laios from dunmeshi x reader type beat

im nowhere near used to the format so ill get there but this is just a lil blurb i wrote in maybe 30ish minutes??

tw: cunnilingus, def ooc laios, he's horny as hell 😞

enjoy i hope

-

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another orgasm bubbled out of your sopping slit, thighs trembling as your high, reedy moans crumbled into low, broken cries as tears ran down your face.

"my lord- fuck, please...!"

you wept, sweat trailing down your neck and making your skin stick to the filled-out parts of your messy silk button-up.

the king- or rather, your husband had come back from his dealings hungry, and with his limit of preferred food, (monsters no longer being on the roster) you were the next best thing.

"still talking with such formality when i'm eating this pretty little pussy of yours? hope all of that royalty talk didn't fog your brain while i was away."

your eyes were on the verge of rolling into the abyss of your eyelids, chest quickly falling and rising as his grip tightened around your thighs.

your lips felt bludgeoned, a tingling feeling rippling over your face, your spine- and especially between your legs.

his tongue flayed against your messy cunt, prodding and thrusting the slick muscle against your folds, suckling down onto your warm bud as his lips trickled out a deep groan in response.

"but don't worry, you'll call me by my name soon enough."

as soon as he came home to the castle, he was quick to locate you in your usual spot, demanding everyone leave to a different floor, as he needed time to 'debrief' everything to the queen. as you could easily tell, he needed his fix.

he dragged you to your shared bedroom, which you were more than ecstatic to follow along with, after all, it's been far too long since you two were intimate.

and here you are now, only in your unkempt button-up with your thighs held apart, sweat dotting every inch of your skin as your husband happily nestled his head between your legs, lapping at your cunt fervently.

his hips pressed against the comforter of the bed, sucking your sweet liquids into his mouth, pulling an uneven whine out of you- which made him grin.

"you just love what my tongue does to you, huh?"

his lidded gaze was scoped on you, laying his tongue flat against your clit and gently caving it inside of your tight slit.

your back arched upwards with a defeated cry, head pressing into the silk comforters, legs instinctively trying to writhe out of his grip.

but the way your hand tussled and messily gripped at his ash-blonde tufts told him otherwise, your spare hand gathering in the covers.

his pupils dilated further as his tongue dipped into your warm, velvety walls yet again- a coy grin eating at his lower jaw. he was teasing you, he knew you were close to cumming again, he just wanted you to beg for it.

and beg, you'd do.

-

sorry this is so half-assed lol

[sleepinghypnos]

ITZY Ryujin ft. Yeji x Male OC

Tags: Smut

Genre: Blowjob, Rough Sex, Self-degradation, Female Idol x Male Reader (OC), Cheating (Extreme... i guess.)

PS: Sorry for inconsistent story format, I'm still learning so be patient with me... and it's cheating again, if you are not into that then feel free to ignore this.

The encounter with the IVE members surely is a divine one, having them as 'yours' isn't bad. It's been three days since that happened and you are back at the ITZY's private home.

As per usual, Yuna and Chaeryeong always wants to do something with you. Making moves here and there non-stop and it basically became a routine. In the shower, dining room, living room, and even in the garden when the guards is out for lunch.

The other members don't care because they got used to it, so it's going to be a surprise if they don't see you plowing the fuck out of them.

You woke up and do all your morning ritual before you come out of your room, these past few days their lives has been peaceful. No stalking, no creepy encounters..

But you are still on your guard despite that because who knows what will happen tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

"Oppa?" You went back to reality when you heard someone talked. Then you gaze downwards to see a beautiful woman kneeling before you. It's Ryujin, the main rapper of ITZY, due to the constant persuasion of Yuna and Chaeryeong, she eventually let her desire get the best of her and do what she wants and this is it.

"Yes?"

"Are you feeling good?" she asked and you nodded, cupping her cheeks as assurance.

She shows her beautiful smile and continued to give your cock some passionate attention, gazing up with sultry eyes as she begins planting soft kisses along your length. Her full lips pout seductively with each press against your sensitive skin.

"It my deepest wish to worship this perfect cock properly..." she breathes out between sensual kisses, taking her time to build anticipation. Her mouth eventually reaches the tip, which she swirls her tongue around teasingly before placing a loving kiss right on the head. She maintains smoldering eye contact throughout.

"I hope my mouth can provide you the warm-up you deserve..." With that, Ryujin's lips part and she takes you inside, moaning at your taste and thickness on her tongue.

She begin bobbing slowly but deeply, caressing the shaft of your huge cock with both of her hands simultaneously.

As the pace increases, Ryujin's muffled moans vibrate around you. She is utterly lost in her oral worship. focused solely on giving you intense pleasure. Her skilled tongue on which she practiced on a dildo proves her dedication on pleasuring you, desiring nothing more than your complete satisfaction from her dedicated efforts.

"Shit, I'm cumming."

As you begin fucking Ryujin's throat intensely, she relaxes her jaw and trying hard to suppress her gag reflex to accommodate your dominant rhythm. Spit drips down her chin as vulgar wet choking sounds escape her stuffed mouth. She's still making an eye contact with you totally want to satisfy your lust.

This pushes you over the edge. With a final brutal thrust down Ryujin's tight throat, you flood her mouth with a massive cumshot. Her eyes roll back in ecstasy as she eagerly gulps down every drop of your virile seed.

When you finally withdraw, Ryujin gasps for air, mouth still open to show you she didn't waste any cum.

"Mmm... thank you for feeding me, Oppa." She purrs, then she turn her gaze behind me.

"So, you finally did it. Congrats!" The woman behind you finally speaks, apparently she's been there the whole time and Ryujin just didn't even bother to say anything since she is focused on pleasuring you.

"Please you use me next, sir..." Yeji begs, Ryujin on the other hand smile upon the idea of another member of ITZY being conquered and that makes all of them your sluts...

Based on Yeji's behavior, she's on par with Yuna if being a slut is a character trait so going gentle on her is a waste. She knelt down on her own without getting told and patiently waits your response.

Yeji parting her lips to welcome your massive length. You didn't waste any time and slides it inside. She moans loudly around your cock, struggling to fit it to her mouth. You feel her tongue sliding along your shaft as she tries to pleasure you.

She gazes up at you pleadingly, eager to be stuffed and fucked as she craves, her cunt drips with arousal, clenching around nothing. She needs your cock to fill her, to ruin her completely.

You plunge into her mouth, feeling her throat stretch around your size. She gags but does not protest, willing to please you however she can.

Her eyes glaze with lust and desire as she bobs her head, wanting to taste your cum.

"Your cock brings me the greatest pleasure, the dildos can't even compare." Yeji pants. "Only you can destroy my mouth as I crave... please, fuck me harder. Ruin me."

You pound into her mouth mercilessly, feeling her lips smack and slide along your length. She moans, the sounds muffled but full of delight.

You look at Ryujin playing with herself, feeling the lust as she watch you ruin Yeji's mouth just like how you did with hers. "Fuck us! Please.. Fuck us!" Words that came out of her mouth.

You are closing to your peak, and finally flood Yeji's mouth with your hot thick cum, she shows off her mouthfull of jizz to you and Ryujin before swallowing it all down.

"Delicious!"

The two idols leads you to your own bedroom tossed themselves to your bed waiting for you to come closer, quickly undressing and lay down as if they are presenting their pussies to you.

Foreplay wasn't needed, the facefucking is enough to wet their cunts like waterfalls. You position yourself with your massive length lining up to Ryujin's wet entrance.

With a single thrust, you bury yourself inside her tight cunt. She screams, overwhelmed by the sensation of pleasure and pain.

"Oh god! y-yes!" She moans. "Fill me. Oppa!"

You pound into Ryujin intensely, feeling her tight walls clench around your cock, she moans and curses, writhing beneath you in delight.

"Harder, Oppa!" She demanded. "I need your enormous cock ruining me."

You oblige, plowing into Ryujin with brutal force. She screams and moans, overwhelmed by the intensity of your thrust, you know she has a boyfriend but this is what she wants, you are just giving it to her.

"Your boyfriend doesn't have any idea that you are here getting plowed by such massive cock but that's fine, right? Since he's been getting along with other women as well, the difference is you are enjoying a much bigger dick compare to his." Yeji said and kissed Ryujin's neck while caressing her hair.

"My wish to try full nelson with my boyfriend is not possible since he is not well-endowed. I want to try it so bad, please help realize my dream." She added, it seems like she found someone and didn't get what she wanted. You just nodded to her and focus your attention on Ryujin.

You pinch and tease Ryujin's nipples, eliciting more moans from the writhing idol beneath you. her breast bounce with the force of your pounding, eager to be marked with your scent.

You switch from her pussy to her ass taking her ass virginity in the process. But she didn't resist, instead she likes the idea. Being used as a fuckdoll isn't so bad in her mind, as long as it's you who will be using her.

Her ass clenches around your cock, begging for the pleasure of your cum. She gazes up at you pleading to be filled.

As you felt your climax closing in you position Ryujin into a mating press, insert your cock into her cunt and plowed her fast and hard making her scream your name.

"Suho Oppa!" She said, her saying your name instead of Oppa made your raging fire to go wild even more. She's taking your huge cock in full length.

Many more thrusts and Ryujin screams in mingled pleasure and humiliation as you fill her cunt with your thick, hot, virile seed. It spurts into her in enormous ropes, filling her up and making her belly bulge as you wreck her completely.

Yeji in particular grins with cruel delight, pleased to see Ryujin so thoroughly used and degraded.

You withdraw from Ryujin's stuffed cunt, your massive cock dripping with cum and slick with her juices. She present herself for inspection, eager to atone for actually giving in to her desire in betraying her boyfriend and please you however she must.

"Oppa's cum fills me as it rightly should." Ryujin's says meekly. "I am but a vessel for your pleasure and release now."

Yeji nod in approval, pleased to see Ryujin so utterly claimed and humiliated.

"She will make a fine breeding cat to produce kittens for you." Yeji says meaningfully.

The bed in your bedroom is quite big, so even if you are fucking three people on the bed you can still do many positions.

Yeji positioned herself in all fours waiting for you to plow her. Without a second thought you penetrate the idol in front of you, she moans as she feels your cock stretching her out, her walls immediately clenched around your cock.

You pulled her hair while fucking from behind, your desire to plow her is nothing lesser than what you felt with Ryujin. Letting them have it the way they wanted it.

Then you pull out, she was surprised and asking for more but you have a different plan. If she wants to get fuck in a full nelson then you'll give it to her.

You positioned Yeji into full nelson locking your hand behind her neck and thrusting upwards making the idols dream come true.

Yeji moans loudly, her hips bucking wildly as she's pounded into oblivion. She can feel your thick cock stretching her pussy to it's limit with your girth and length, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"Ooh! Sh-shit! This is it! FUCK!!! FUCK ME HARDER, USE ME!" She screams as if she's the only one in the room. "I'm yours to pound to oblivion. My pussy aches to be filled by your girthy cock, please take your pleasure from me. I want to be your little cumdump, filled and used for your pleasure alone."

She grinds her hips against you, eager to feel your cock thrusting deeper into her. She knows you won't stop until you pounded her into a quivering, cock hungry mess, and she craves every second of it.

She cries out in ecstasy as you plow into her, her body shaking with the force of your thrusts. Few deep thrusts and she received her first creampie from you. Her eyes widen, looking down at her swollen belly in shock as the cum continues to pump into her. She can feel it filling her womb. Your thick essence flooding her body.

"Yes! Fill me! Pump your hot cum into my womb!"

You slide her to you side and lift her ass up. "I'm not done with you."

But as soon so she's already to take her second round, her phone rings. Ryujin picks the phone up and gave it to Yeji.

"Oppa?"

"Where are you?"

"At our dorm? We don't have any schedule today..." She's talking to her boyfriend then Ryujin came up with a brilliant idea.

In a whisper... "Do a video call with him, and let Oppa fuck you. Just make sure only your face is visible through the camera." with an evil grin. She's totally getting revenge because of what Yeji did earlier. She knows that Yeji won't resist if you desires it.

"Oppa, do a video call with me." She said and waited for the call. She's nervous but also getting more hornier, this is her first time doing such a thing.

When her boyfriend video calls. I penetrated her immediately. Yeji bites her lip and answers, angling it so he can't see you fucking her.

"H-hi baby! What's up?" Yeji asks, voice trembling as you continue plowing into her pussy from behind.

Her boyfriend is oblivious, chatting casually. Meanwhile, You rail Yeji harder, watching her struggle to keep composure during the call.

"Is everything okay babe? You seemed weird." her boyfriend asks with concern.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" Yeji lies, moaning as you spear deep into her soaked cunt from behind.

You reach around and grope her tits through her top, pinching her nipples as you fuck her on camera. Yeji bites back whimpers of pleasure.

"Are you sure? You look a little flushed..." her boyfriend says suspiciously.

You slap Yeji's ass hard, eliciting a yelp. "I-I'm just tired from practice!" she covers. She stifle her moans with her hand as you rail her harder, claiming her body as yours in secret right before her boyfriend's eyes...

As you railing her doggystyle during the call with her oblivious boyfriend, Yeji suddenly makes an exaggerated ahegao face right at the camera.

Her eyes roll back, tongue lolling out as she moans like an anime girl. She's getting off on betraying her boyfriend.

"What was that face for?" He asks confused.

"N-nothing babe! Ryujin's massaging my legs since it's sore and she hit the RIGHT spot..." Yeji lies, stifling her moans as you spear deep into her cervix from behind.

She keeps making lewd faces, clearly getting aroused from cucking her boyfriend without him realizing. Her pussy is soaking wet and clenching around your pistoning cock.

Yeji is getting addicted to the thrill of cheating. And Ryujin is liking every second of this amusement.

She even mouthed... "Crazy bitch!"

Her boyfriend keeps asking what's going on as Yeji makes more odd faces and stifled noises while you rail her.

"What do you keep making those faces for babe?" He asks confused.

"Oh uh, my stomach! It's in my stomach..." Yeji lies unconvincingly as you spear deep into her womb from behind.

"Huh? What's in your stomach?" He asks, not catching her meaning.

"Nothing baby! You wouldn't get it anyway..." Yeji says with a hint of mockery, biting back a moan as your swollen balls slap against her engorged clit.

Her boyfriend is completely unaware as you thoroughly claim his girlfriend's pussy right before his eyes. Yeji is getting off on cucking him so blatantly.

Soon your cum will be pumping into the stomach she mentioned instead of his..

While you rail Yeji doggystyle during her video call, Ryujin is watching from the sidelines and giggling to herself.

She can clearly see you spearing Yeji's tight pussy while her oblivious boyfriend has no idea. Ryujin finds Yeji's poor attempts at lying utterly amusing.

"Oppa's huge cock is stuffing you so good! Your boyfriend is so clueless!" Ryujin whispers teasingly.

Yeji glares at her but can't hold back a loud moan as you start jackhammering into her g-spot without mercy.

"What was that? Is someone else there?" Her boyfriend asks, hearing the noises. Looks like Yeji is also his first girlfriend because he remains oblivious...

"No babe! Just the TV!" Yeji lies desperately.

You are railing Yeji relentlessly, her pussy squeezing your cock as you hit deep in her womb. With a few final powerful thrusts, you erupt, pumping thick ropes of cum directly into her womb.

Yeji's eyes roll back feeling you coat her insides. Her tummy begins bulging, filled up with your potent seed.

Right as you finish cumming inside her, Yeji makes an exaggerated ahegao face and moans loudly, putting on a final show for her boyfriend.

"G-gotta go babe, talk later! I think my legs needs some ice packs." Yeji excuses herself before ending the call. your cum still oozing from her used hole.

Ryujin laughs seeing Yeji's bulging creampied pussy after deceiving her boyfriend so blatantly.

"You bitch! You're sluttier than Yuna and Chaeryeong!" Ryujin added before pulling you to lay down on the bed.

"It's your fault! Who said you can come out with an idea like that?" Yeji's face is buried on the mattress while arguing with Ryujin.

"Just make sure he won't figure it out, your career might face some consequences." You reminded her while rubbing her back. She just nodded and continued resting.

Here it is.... Another piece. Thank you for reading!

[plushish]

Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?

just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader

headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?

content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).

a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!

Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.  

The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.

The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.

But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute. 

Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"

You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.

...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.

"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.

"No, I'm good." 

"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."

"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."

That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?

"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"

"Nah."

"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.

"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."

“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”

To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.

“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?” 

"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much." 

"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."

"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."

Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge. 

“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."

You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.

"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."

"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.

"Just give me one more shot?"

And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.

You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."

"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."

"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"

"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."

Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.

And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."

So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.

You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:

"Look who has a crush now."

a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate

[repulsiveliquidation]

Eyes on Me || Leila Ouahabi

a/n : trying out a new format, we'll see how that goes. i did not proof-read this at all. i am also having a redbull for the first time and i don't think it'll do anything for me.

The sun shines through the hotel room in Malta. Leila has her arm wrapped around your middle with a tight grip on you. The sun gets into your eyes so you try your best to turn around in her arms. She whines, rolling over and tucking her face into your neck. You chuckle and tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Morning, amor,” you chirp softly, lips pressed to her forehead softly. She shifts, leg coming up to wrap around you.

“Bon dia,” she mumbles, pressing a feather-light kiss to your neck. She pushes herself up a little, eyes scrunched up to block out the sun.

“You didn’t close the blinds last night,” she grumbles, plopping herself back on top of you.

“I wasn’t the last one in bed, you were.”

“Yeah, but-” you cut her off.

“Why is that baby?” you ask with a cheeky smile, mind wandering to the activities of last night.

“I was cleaning up after we fucked,” she says quietly, a blush creeping up on her face.

“Mhm, and you fucked me so good I couldn’t feel my legs bebita,” you tease, sliding out from under her and heading into the bathroom. You hear her huff, then her head hitting the pillow. You giggle and go through your morning routine, hearing her rummaging about in the room. You decide on a shower, the sound of the rainfall showerhead going piques her interest and she pokes her head in the door.

“Am I allowed to join you, bebé?”

“Depends, do you promise to behave?”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” she says, already stripped and in the shower with you. Her hands wrap around your waist and pull you into her, lips pressed to yours as you reach around and cradle her head. She grins, hands cheekily traveling lower and lower to your ass. She gives you a hard squeeze before a wet smack rings through the bathroom.

You gasp into her mouth and giggle, kissing her harder as the shower steams up. She presses a thigh between your legs, your hips immediately wanting to grind down on her. She helps you, hands gripping your hips as you grind down on her muscular thigh. You whine, looking up into her eyes as you use her body to get off.

She slowly presses you against the wall, smashing her lips to yours in a rough kiss. You moan and cup her face to kiss back. She pulls away and slowly kisses down your neck and collarbones, hands kneading at your sides.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers as her lips ghost your neck, dragging themselves lightly over your chest. She grasps your breasts, lips sucking them in hard and tight. She fondles the other, thigh wedged between your legs again.

“Please,” you beg, “Please don’t stop.”

Leila nods, eyes looking up at you before switching sides. She bites a little too hard but you don’t mind, the pain and pleasure surging through you. Your hips grind down and ride her thigh, evidence of your arousal washed away instantly with every flick of your hips.

“So wet for me, amor? Did I not make you come so well last night?” Leila teases, one hand on your hip as the other grabs as much of your ass as it could. You suddenly moan loudly after a particular grind of your hips, swollen clit catching on her hard thigh. Your orgasm builds to a crescendo, thighs shaking as you begin to move your hips faster and faster.

Suddenly, she grabs your face, her eyes dark with lust.

“Look at me when you come, pretty girl.”  

Your eyes shoot up to gaze deeply into hers as your high comes crashing down. You shudder and grab onto her, her signature smile on her face as she holds you up.

You stand and don’t wobble too much, lips crashing onto hers. She giggles and kisses back, getting a little shy.

“My turn,” you say with determination, turning her around to press her back to the wall. She gives you another one of her signature bright smiles, hands tangled in your hair as you kneel before her.

She arches her back a little, your lips wrapped tight around her clit. She was soaked, to say the least, eyes rolling into her head as you rhythmically suck on her folds. She grips your hair tight, grinding herself on your tongue.

“Mm, you’re doing so good for me princesa…” Leila praises, breath hitching in her throat when your tongue slips into her pussy and begins to suckle noisily. The water in the shower remains as hot as ever, your tongue expertly devouring her slick folds with swishes and flicks that bring her knees to a tense shudder.

You grasp her ass and pull her in closer, two fingers pressed deep inside her as your tongue sucks hard on her throbbing clit.

“Just like that, cariño,” Leila praises, her hooded eyes never leaving yours as you stare up at her. Her beautiful dark eyes always soften when she’s close to coming, the pre-orgasm shocks surging through her as push her towards her high.

The scream of your name is heard by no one else but you, the remote hotel room you two booked was the ideal location for a quick weekend getaway from the pitch.

Leila pulls you up and kisses you tenderly, moaning at the taste of her on your lips.

“You are something else with that mouth of yours, princesa.”

“Mm, sí,”

She leans in and kisses you again, grabbing the body wash and getting a good lather going.

//

“Are you sure you know how to work this thing?” you ask Leila as you step onto the boat.

“Sí, Soy el capitán de los mares!” she says, putting on a captain hat that she finds in the cockpit.

“Just because you’ve got the hat on, doesn’t make you the ‘captain of the seas’ babe!” you warn, laying out a beach towel and your bags on the sun deck.

Leila rolls her eyes at you, taking her time to sail out to crystal blue waters with no one else around. You stand behind her the whole time in the name of love (really you were nitpicking) with your arms around her middle and your chin resting on her shoulder. She turned her head and demanded a few kisses, your mind racing to ingrain the image of Leila sailing the boat into your memory forever. Watching her strong arms turn the console with her dark sunglasses on and pretty bathing suit underneath her shirt was doing wonders for your fantasies.

She docks the rented yacht just near a private island the boat owner had recommended. She kisses your cheek and walks out onto the deck with a smile as she takes a deep breath. You, however, have not stopped staring at your girlfriend.

“Would you like a picture amor? I know I look irresistible right now,” she teases with a grin, a deep blush flooding up your neck and cheeks.

You scramble for your phone and walk up to her, the camera pointed at her as she poses confidently for you. 

“Done,” you say shyly, giggling softly as you look through the pictures. She stands and comes over, kissing your shoulder softly.

“You’re so beautiful, amor,” you tell her, tilting your head up to kiss her. Her lips find yours, phone abandoned on the deck as your arms pull her closer and your lips kiss her harder.

“Sí, I am,” she says, earning a smack on her ass. She laughs, cupping your face and kissing you hard.

“You’re the beautiful one, bebita.”

Leila pulls you towards the towels you’ve placed, kneeling and rummaging in her bag. She hands you a speaker and you get it connected, playing your party mix as loud as you want. She pulls something else out of the bag, something that wipes the grin off your face.

Leila holds up her strap, a cheeky grin on her face. You try to grab it from her and hide it, looking around with fear that people would see her holding a literal dick in her hands. But you visibly relax when you realize that no one is around.  

“I asked bebé, no one comes around here so we’ve got it all to ourselves for a few hours.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, still a little apprehensive.

“I would have never brought it if I wasn’t sure, princesa.”

“Then fuck me, Ouahabi.”

You did not have to tell her twice.

Leila pounced on you, roughly maneuvering you onto your back before smashing her lips to yours. You kiss back the best you can, a high whine leaving your throat.

“Please Leila,” you whimper as she pulls away and kisses down your neck. Your hands tangle in her hair, nails scratching hard at her scalp as you grasp her dark locks. She moans against your skin, teeth caught on your nipple as she pulls away.

She helps you to your feet before pulling the harness on, turning you around to hold onto the side of the boat. You push your sunglasses up before you feel Leila’s cock right on your entrance. She’s just pulled your swimsuit to the side, fingers making quick work of your top. It falls to the floor; your breasts are full and ready for a little color, from the sun and your girlfriend’s adoration to marking them.  

She teases your entrance with the toy, hand reaching around to rub your clit. You groan and hang your head low, grinding back into her chasing just a little friction.

“No, princesa. You will do as I say or we go back where I’ll fuck you in front of everyone.”

You look back at her in shock, eyes as wide as saucers.

“See, we don’t want that now do we?”

“No…” 

“So be a good girl,” she says before she leans into you, lips close to your ear, “and do as I fucking say.”

You nod, turning your head back forward with your ass out like she put you. She grins, pushing the tip of her cock into you slowly. You feel her bottom out, her cock filling you to the brim. You groan and your eyes roll into your head, holding back the urge to fuck back on her thick cock.

Leila knew that you were holding back with all your might. She could see your thighs shaking a little and your knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge tight.

She gently began to thrust into you, hands gripping your hips tight as she fucked deep into you. You moaned her name freely, any fear of anyone hearing you was out the door.

“Feels good, mi vida?” Leila asks, spanking your ass hard three times before you could answer. Your response catches in your throat, turning into a deep moan as she starts to pound harder and rougher into you.

“Fuck!” you scream, knees buckling at the strength of her thrusts. She pulls out and lays you down on the elevated deck, hurriedly kissing your breasts and slowly down your stomach. She presses your legs wide open, burying her face between your legs. She sucks hard on your wet clit, three fingers slipping into your soaked pussy.

“Lei-Leila!” you stutter as she begins to press up into your sweet spot and suck harder at your clit. She pulls away when she’s got slick dripping down her chin, leaning over and pressing her lips to yours.

You kiss her sloppily, her cock slipping back inside you as she pulls you closer.

“You take my cock so well, amor…” she growls, fucking up into you harder and harder. You nod as tears begin to fill your eyes, your hand falling between your legs to flick at your clit hard.

“You're close, sí? You wanna come on my cock, mi estrella?”

“Please, please!”

“Good girl, you remember the rules princesa? Eyes on me when you come.”

You force your eyes open, staring into her brown eyes that set off your orgasm.

Leila fucks you through it, pounding right into your sweet spot until you scream for her to stop. She presses a sweet kiss to your lips. She pulls out and takes the harness off, placing it back in her bag.  

“Mi chica perfecta,” she compliments as she helps you to your feet. She hands you your swim top and ties it back on for you.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Sí, it is my best quality,” she exclaims, climbing onto the deck and jumping straight into the sea.

“Careful!” you yell as it falls on deaf ears. She resurfaces above the clear water, urging you to join her.

“It’s not cold!” she tells you when she hears you complaining about it, wading above water right by the ladder.

You reach out for her to help you in, instead, she yanks you head first into the water. You yelp in surprise, smacking her arm hard as you try to catch your breath.

“I could have died, idiota!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t! Come on, let’s swim for a bit then I’ve got something to show you that I think you’ll like.”

An hour later, you’re back on the boat with some decent color and 5 more hickeys than before. Leila sails for about 10 minutes or so, docking the boat at the most beautiful island you’ve seen. She smiles when she sees your surprise, carefully helping you off the boat with her bag in her other hand. The silky soft sand slips between your toes, the warm afternoon sun beating down on you both. There’s a little hut and some blankets, but no one else around.

“Are we alone too?”

“Yes, just you and me.”

You take initiative this time, dragging Leila over to the towels where there’s a little shade and a soft sea breeze. She sits down quickly, loving the enthusiasm you’ve got. You crawl up her, kissing softly along her body. She relaxes into the sand, arms crossed behind her head.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you whisper, teeth pulling her bottoms off. Leila watches, eyes growing dark with lust like they did earlier. She lets out a frustrated sigh, legs opening wide at your quiet request.

You do the same, stripping off your swimsuit, the thrill of it giving that extra little boost of confidence.

You help her put the strap back on, settling high on her lap as you gently settle onto it. She fills you for a third time, her thick cock still giving you that full feeling that gets your heart racing and toes curling.

“Whenever you’re ready, princesa,” she coos, rough hands caressing your thighs. You start to ride her slowly, head thrown back in pure passion as she decides to thrust up into you as you come down on her.

“Fuck Leila, cock feels so good,” you whine, riding her harder before she holds you up and fucks up into you. You scream in pleasure, the accuracy of her thrusts has your head spinning in pure sexual ecstasy.  

She manages to flip you over, leaning back and wasting no time fucking into your pussy hard. She groans and presses your legs back, hips expertly fucking into your wet hole. You can only scratch your nails down her back, moaning loudly as she gives you her cock how she deems fit.

“Leila, por favor!”

“What do you want hm?” she leans down and whispers to you, hips fucking into you deeper than you thought possible.

“Please make me come!”

“¿Quieres que te haga venir, mi chica perfecta?”

“Please!”

“All you had to do was ask, princesa,” she teased, hand wrapping around your neck as your eyes immediately looked up at her. They’re glassy and focused on nothing but her, your body shuddering hard as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. The force of the thrusts that throws you over the edge knocks the wind out of your lungs; her hand tight around your neck sends that ecstatic feeling of lightheadedness straight to your core.

“Leila!” you croak out before she pulls out and quickly shifts lower to suck on your folds. You moan loudly and have to pry her off you, a hungry growl heard deep in her throat when she presses her lips to yours.

“Want you to come too,” you tell her, hands already on her ass to pull her up onto your face. She groans and throws the strap off, eagerly straddling your face for her to ride.

You stick your tongue out and she folds over your head, gripping your hair as you devour her wet folds. She grinds herself down on your tongue, her jaw wrenched open as she mutters your name over and over.

“So pretty,” you whisper into her pussy to yourself, leaning in to taste her again. She’s intoxicating, you reckon you could eat her out for hours.

Your lips suck hard at her clit, nails dug into the abundant meat of her ass. She shudders on top of you, her thighs tightening around your head. This spurs you on, tongue flicking over her clit as she comes undone on top of you. She rides it out until she’s satisfied, leaving you feeling satisfied and used.

She crawls off you, kissing you softly before pulling you into her lap to watch the sunset.

“I love you,” she says quietly, face tucked into your neck as the sun begins to set in front of you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, her arms tightening around you.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part two - the punisher

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You wake again, tangled in your pink satin sheets, legs slick with sweat from your incessant tossing and turning. The mattress is worn in. Well, for a kook it is. It was once pristine, you could’ve been compared to the princess and the pea now as it made slumber hard and your muscles ache. Though, you weren’t sure if you could blame it on the mattress or the sickness that lingered within your body. Your reality quickly crashes down around you and it looms like a sleep-paralysis demon in the corner of your room; lurking, waiting for the perfect time to pounce and grab you by the throat. You imagine that the pounce isn’t what’s the most terrifying part of it – no it’s the way it grabs your throat, the way you scream but there’s no sound, nothing will come out. That’s dramatic – the analogy, you know it is. But, you can’t stop yourself from wondering why in the fuck Rafe motherfucking Cameron was defending you against your ex-boyfriend a mere ten hours prior. You can’t stop yourself from wondering why after years of radio silence would Rafe have come to your defense. You can’t stop yourself from creating the comparison between the way the ache of his memory, his touch washes over you – chokes you the way demon does. You were an old friend, that had to be what it was – maybe the nostalgia got to him – yeah, that’s it. He doesn’t care, he hasn’t cared for a long time; maybe he never did at all. That’s the only option that makes sense. You quickly throw your blankets off of you as your phone chimes. You find yourself hoping it's Rafe, which is odd, you haven’t hoped that in years. The sting of his absence has truly never ceased the way you had originally hoped that it would. You swallow the disappointment feverishly as you realize it's one of your other favorite Cameron’s – Sarah Elizabeth. She is the only one of the pogues that you are still currently speaking to because she swears up and down that she didn’t know about JJ’s indiscretions. She’s also more kook than pogue and you’re sure maybe she always will be. You trust her – you have to – she’s never lied to you in thirteen years, not that you’re aware of anyway. She’s been begging you to come hangout for weeks and you had to bluntly tell her that if any of the pogues were invited you would not be joining, under any circumstances whatsoever. You look at your messages finally as you force yourself to turn your thoughts off. 

sarah elizabeth: can you please do me a favor? 

You reply, sarcasm oozing from every letter typed out. 

does the great sarah cameron need me? What for?? 

You wait, the three bubbles popping up quickly, bobbing up and down as she thinks of a way to frame the favor you need her for. You smirk as her reply comes through. 

sarah elizabeth: don’t be a dickhead. c’mon, pretty please?? 

You quickly type back. 

depends what it is, princess. 

Your tone is cheeky, yet playful. This – she can work with. That’s what she thinks as she presses send again. 

sarah elizabeth: be my plus one on The Druthers today. No pogues. No rafe. Pretty please. 

You roll your eyes, but quickly agree. You know you can’t keep her waiting forever. 

pick me up in five. You owe me btw. 

—

Your feet strut down the dock loudly, padding after Sarah. She’s evergreen – she always has been, though you don’t know evergreen is the right use of wordage. She’s lively and bright like golden hour at the beach or the cotton candy skies you love to see above the water in the summer. She’s bold and audacious and you love her more than anyone. She turns from her jog, looking back at you as she giggles. She reaches back to you, grabbing your hand and you run with her for a moment. She looks back again, eyes full of love. The moment ends abruptly as she rushes into none other than her brother. You gasp – surprised. Sarah is too, her face quickly falls and she becomes angry as she hits his rock-hard abs with her tinier frame. If you were any more of a loser, you’d probably be drooling at the sight of him, tan-skin glistening in the sun. His abs are rock-hard, you notate on the invisible legal pad in your brain, a pen full of imaginary ink that is definitely leaking all over your hands. Even your imaginary self – the one in your brain – is a clutz around him. You internally groan. His jaw is set with annoyance as his sister rudely runs into him. However, the anger is quickly forgotten as he looks up and your eyes meet. Even from a good distance away, you are lost in the pool of his eyes. They are blue with hues of green and white in places; another reason why he is truly a sight for sore eyes. His demeanor instantly changes, he swallows thickly and Sarah brings the attention back to herself, like she always does. 

“What aren’t you going to say hi?”

She smirks, winking at him. 

“Uh, Yeah – hi, y/n. I’m sorry for the surprised face, I just didn’t know you’d be here.” 

You don’t say anything. Instead, opting for a simple head nod. 

“Everybody on!” 

Ward calls out, waving the three of you in. You walk ahead of Sarah, eager to get away from the both of them. 

“Be nice to her. I’ve been begging her to get out of the house for weeks, okay? Don’t ruin this. Just be nice and let her have a good day.” 

He sheepishly nodded his head. 

“Y-Yeah, okay. I promise not to be an asshole.” 

She smiles up at him in return. She knows he’s worked hard over the last eight months and he is a better man than before. So leans up and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I know, buddy.” 

—

Sarah asking you out for a day on The Druthers wasn’t completely unorthodox. You’d spent many summers where the only thing the two of you cared about was soaking in sun and letting the ocean’s salty kiss envelope you. There wasn’t anything wrong with that – especially if it was just going to be the two of you (no pogues). It’s currently the middle of June and you had a day off, so you thought, ‘Why not?’ There’s truly nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, even though you were surprised by the presence of Rafe and then John B showing up just as Ward was ready to set sail. The latter really fucking annoyed you, because well – Sarah had said no pogues and you were still feeling rather betrayed by all of them – John B included. You had agreed reluctantly to begin with and now – you were living in a nightmare; sandwiched between Rafe and Wheezie in 100 degree weather. If you could turn back time, if you could be someone else, someone with no history with him, with no longing for him to return to you like a phoenix, this would be your dream; his beefy arms pressed against yours.You weren’t sure why Sarah had even invited you now, because she was attached to John B’s hip and you could only watch in horror as they licked each other’s faces off right in front of everyone. Long forgotten was the ghost of who you’d met when you were seven, who she used to be; a princess in pigtails, and to think you considered her more kook than pogue just a few hours earlier. Rafe watched as you grimaced, looking on at them. He laughed, remembering your distaste for public affection, not just for Sarah and John B’s. You locked eyes with him and a grin made its way across your lips. It felt like you could look into his blue orbs forever. Forever was a strong word, since forever ended the second he looked away. This was all you got from him now, stolen glances and grins with no words to follow. It always left you wanting more. You immediately hated yourself for falling for his shit. You knew he didn’t mean it. It was so easy – falling back into it. 

You could feel the sweat pouring down your back right as Ward anchored the boat and decided it was time for a swim, so you got up, pulling your t-shirt off to reveal the gorgeous white one piece you had opted to wear so Rafe wouldn’t notice the scars on your stomach from your pump. You had taken the pump off and set a timer for one hour to remind yourself to put it back on after you were done swimming. Rafe still didn’t know about your illness and you wanted to keep it that way. He admired your body and the slender bathing suit that covered it, thinking about how in the world someone could be that beautiful. He looked on in awe as he watched you run and dive into the water and chuckled when the after effects of your splash came onto the boat to drench Sarah and John B. 

“Seriously?!” 

Sarah called out, shaking the water off of her like a wet dog. 

“Oops!”

You responded, sending Rafe into a fit of laughter. You swam for about 30 minutes before Rose and Ward called everybody for lunch below the cabin. 

“Y/N, come in. It’s time to eat.” 

Rafe called to you. You swam back to the boat, climbing up the ladder and Rafe dropped his hand down for you to grab, which you did, and he pulled you up. 

“You, you-uh look really pretty today.” 

He whispered. You couldn’t remember the last time you held his hand or felt the rough texture of the pads of his fingers wrapped around yours. It felt like ages. You almost fell for it again, but you quickly pulled your hand from his grasp; it felt like you had been scalded by a hot burner. 

“Don’t do that.” 

You bit out. 

“Do what?” 

He questioned puzzledly. 

“You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing!” 

You growled. 

“Just – just don’t, okay?” 

You replied, voice falling flat as the words cut through your core like a knife. You wanted to say yes, to say thank you, to say you too, but you knew how it ended. 

“Y/N, come join us!”

Ward spoke cheerily. 

“Just a sec, gonna sneak away to the bathroom.” 

You smiled in his direction and Rafe watched you intently, wondering how in the hell he was supposed to begin to fix anything when you so clearly wanted him dead. 

–

The next time you saw Rafe Cameron was at the boneyard, which you still loathed going to out of fear of running into JJ or any of the other Pogues. Things hadn’t ended well between the six of you, being that everyone knew about JJ and Kiara’s little Pogue affair and Sarah was the only one who had the decency to tell you the truth. You had cut ties with all of them. But, Sarah was still your friend and she begged you, for the second time, on this particular Friday to come out and enjoy yourself. So, you agreed. After an early morning shift at the island club, you spent time agonizing over what to wear in Sarah’s bedroom. Luckily, Rafe wasn’t home, and you decided on a pair of high waisted shorts and a crop top that went right above the waistline of your jean shorts. You adorned your neck with a rainbow colored beaded choker that Rafe had given you in the sixth grade, it was still your favorite necklace even though you knew you weren't his favorite girl anymore. 

You had mostly stayed away from the Boneyard since Rafe had relinquished his best friend duties, partly because of him, but mostly because the week after you and Rafe called it quits you got really really sick, had a seizure, and found out you had type one diabetes. You were angry with Rafe after that because you really, really needed your best friend. Had it not been for Topper and Sarah, you would’ve had to walk through it completely alone and you didn’t wish that on your worst enemy. 

As you and Sarah made your way on to the beach, she immediately locked eyes with John B and quickly disappeared. Fuck John B and his honey-colored eyes and the way they had a hold on her. You knew this was going to happen and you don’t know why you had convinced yourself any differently. You sighed heavily and made your way over to the Keg which was being run by Topper. 

“Hey, Top.”

You smiled kindly at him. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

He questioned, confusedly. He knew this hadn’t been your scene for a long time now. Though, that didn’t mean that he was unhappy to see you. 

“Sarah dragged me out of the house. Where are the other two stooges?” 

You questioned with a laugh.

“Around here somewhere, I think Rafe is upstairs with a girl or something.” 

He spoke without thinking and sighed when he watched your face fall. 

“Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear that shit.” 

He regretted his words immediately, knowing the hold Rafe had over you.

“It’s okay, Top. You don’t have to protect me from who he is.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Just make sure I don’t leave him another embarrassing voicemail at the end of the night, okay?” 

You meant it as a joke, really. But, Topper did not think it was funny at all. 

“Wait, you’re not drinking are you?” 

His brow furrowed in confusion, knowing that any alcohol you ingested would drop your sugar levels significantly. 

“Don’t worry, dad. I’m only going to have one or two.” 

You replied, sarcasm on your tongue. 

“Please, no more than that. You remember last time?”

He asked bluntly. 

“Yeah, Top. I remember.” 

How could you forget?

You sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time and watched as Topper poured the beer into the red solo cup in his hand. The ‘last time’ Top was referring to was the night you had left Rafe the embarrassingly honest voicemail about how much you missed him. A voicemail he never returned. You had a seizure the following day, blowing off steam at the gold course with Topper and of course, Topper was there to pick up the pieces, like he always was. But, you wished it was Rafe. 

“Here, stay close by. Please.” 

He pleaded, handing you the cup of beer.

“I’ll keep you company until he shows back up.” 

You joked, sending him a wink and nudging his elbow with yours. After a few minutes of catching Top up on the highs and lows of your current life events, you caught Rafe out of the corner of your eye, making his way down to where you and Topper were with Kelce right behind him. 

“Well, well, well, Y/N, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Kelce spoke in a jokingly sexy voice. He had always flirted with you and it had always pissed Rafe off, though you never understood why. Kelce was harmless and revolting; way too much of a ladies man for your pleasure. 

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

His tone came out gruff and mean, and your eyes went to your feet again, as you recognized the voice of your ex-boyfriend. You slowly turned your head to see Kiara with her arm wrapped around JJ’s bicep, a snarl ever present on her face. Rafe watched your eyes intently, the sadness and anger that lingered in them sent him into protective mode once again. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You stammered. 

“What are you gonna drink yourself to death over him?” 

Kiara interjected, pointing to your drink, her voice sinister, as she mocked you and your health condition. 

Rafe looked on in confusion, wondering what it was that she was referring to - the break up or something more? It felt like he was missing a key piece of information. The Y/N that he knew didn’t have a problem downing any drinks. Topper was quick to jump in and diffuse the situation before your life’s biggest secret was revealed in front of the one person you didn’t want to know. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” 

Topper warned, a growl on his lips.

“No, it’s not. She has diabetes, I mean Jesus Christ, you guys gonna let her get killed just because she’s sad?” 

JJ asked incredulously. If you were a bystander, you might think he gave a shit about you, but you know he doesn’t. He’s telling Rafe that you’re sick. He’s doing it to be a cunt, because he knows you’ve kept it from him since finding out. 

“You’re a cunt, JJ.” 

You retorted, aggresively. 

“Woah – big words for a big ol’ girl, huh?” 

He piped up, hinting toward your weight which was one of your biggest insecurities since being diagnosed. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

Rafe spoke up, growling in JJ’s direction before grabbing the collar of his shirt pushing him into the sand. 

“What’s with defending her honor, Rafe? I mean twice in a week, you wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea, now would you?” 

JJ’s words are slimy – you wonder how you ever loved him as he resembles lord voldemort to you now. 

“And what idea would that be, Maybank?” 

He spits out in feverish anger. 

“I don’t know – that you give a shit about her?” 

He questions sarcastically. 

“That’s not the wrong idea – it’s the truth.” 

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore. You don’t want to hear it from either one of these assholes. So you run away – as fast as you can. 

When Rafe had made it back to the party, after beating JJ into oblivion – his favorite activity this week, his eyes frantically searching for your slender form, Topper informed him you went off by yourself toward the water. He made his way down to where he thought you’d be and there you were, sitting on a piece of driftwood, your knees tucked into your body and your arms wrapped around them. It was almost as if you were giving yourself a hug. Rafe smiled at the sight. 

“Y/N.”

He called out.

“Oh, what, Rafe?”

You replied, questioning in your voice, wondering what the hell he was doing even talking to you. 

“Why’d you leave the party?”

He asked, innocently, even though he already knew the answer because he knew you like the back of his hand. 

“I’m just embarrassed – why do you care so much all the sudden, huh?” 

You chuckled angrily, trying to keep it as civil as possible so Rafe wouldn’t make fun of you for it later with a group of guys on the golf course. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed that Maybank is a dick. He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Yeah and what – you think you do? Cause from where I’m sitting, that’s not the case.” 

You growled. He was taken aback at first, but slowly began to nod his head with tears in his eyes. Although you weren’t friends anymore, you constantly analyzed his features, knowing what each grimace or grin meant. You hadn’t meant to make him sad, that wasn’t the point. 

“Do you not want me to talk to you?”

His voice grew quiet and feeble. 

“Rafe, I’ve wanted you to say anything to me for the last two years that wasn’t an insult or cutting me down. I mean we were best friends for god sakes and y-you just left me behind.” 

The tears clouded your vision, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting them fall. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was crying, hot tears leaked out of his eyes and fell onto his cheeks and before you could look up at him, he pulled you in. You fought the hug at first, but it just felt so good and warm and right. Eventually, you melted into his touch, resting your head on his chest. You hadn’t had one of these hugs in so long, it almost felt like it wasn’t real. These hugs, his hugs, could cure disease, they could put all your broken parts back together. Fuck JJ Maybank, this is Rafe Goddamn Cameron and you are so Goddamn thankful. 

“What’s that?”

Rafe motioned to the bulge sticking out from under your shirt as he pulled away from the hug the two of you shared. You looked up at his piercing blue eyes and decided enough was enough and this moment with him shouldn’t be wasted. It’s time to tell him the truth.

“It’s an insulin pump.” 

You mutter.

“Why do you need an insulin pump? You have diabetes, he wasn’t lying?”

Rafe looked confused, you had been friends for so long and he had never noticed it before. 

“I-I have diabetes, type 1. He wasn’t lying.” 

You reply.

“What? Since when?” 

He looked bewildered, like he didn’t know what to think or say.

“Since freshman year.” 

Your voice is small as you tell him your reality of the last two years. 

“Is that why you stopped showing up to parties?”

He asks, earnestly. You can't remember the last time you saw him look like that. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean you stopped talking to me and I didn’t have a reason to come around anymore. Plus, I can’t have a lot of alcohol. It just makes my sugar low, which makes me sick.” 

You replied, looking down at your feet, embarassed, fully expecting him to make a joke about it or say something awful. That was his prerogative. But he didn’t. He was concerned, scared, confused, even, as he asked you about your disability. 

“How did you find out?” 

He asks. 

“The week after you stopped talking to me I got really really sick and I had a seizure. Almost didn’t make it and that’s when they found it. Topper was the only person who knew.” 

You admitted. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Topper tell me?!” 

He’s borderline hysteric as he realizes what he’s done, how he’d left you alone when you needed him the most. 

“I begged him not to. I knew if you found out you’d wanna talk and I wanted you to do that under your own pretenses not out of obligation.” 

Your words gut him and he knows he deserves far worse than this feels. 

“Can you let me back in? I mean – not now, or right away, but can you let me show i’ve changed, can you allow me to do that? Like old times.”

He questions, scared as he awaits your reply. 

“It’ll never be like old times again.” 

You reply bluntly. His Adam's apple bobs up and down and he knows you’re right, that you’re not saying this to hurt him – not you. You wouldn’t. You’re saying it because it’s the truth. 

“Understood.” 

He finally whispers. He rubs his palms against his knees, they are sweaty. It’s a sign – a tell before he goes into a full blown anxiety attack and you have to steer this conversation in another direction before he’s hyperventilating beside you �� like old times. 

“Look, I’ll give this a shot – this friends bullshit, trial basis kind of vibes. If you prove me wrong and don’t end up being a piece of shit after all, we can extend our contract.” 

You reply with a half-witted smirk. 

“You mean that?” 

He asks hopefully. You almost yell at him again, but you don’t want to be cruel. 

“Sure. We can try. Meet me at our old spot tomorrow and we can try to figure this shit out. But, I’m gonna need some answers from you, Rafe. I mean it.” 

You reply sternly. He rises, helping you up to your feet again. 

“Can I hug you? O-Or walk you home, maybe? O-Or drive you, I have my truck – it’s here.” 

He struggles as he does his best to offer you support, that’s what friends are supposed to do. At Least that’s what he used to do for you. 

“Don’t push it okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

You replied and for the first time in any length of time that he can remember, he’s left wanting more and not just more, he’s a guy that has plenty, plenty of everything. But, he’s lacking in you and the absence stings just as bad as the day he left. He hopes that you'll accept his reasoning, his need to become better for you. He hopes you won’t leave him in return. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch

[destiny-fics]

[11:00 pm] - Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong

Warnings: dom!Seonghwa, dom!Hongjoong, sub!reader, mommy kink, vouyerism, begging, slight degradation, polyamory, crying, pet names: princess, baby, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this please)

Masterlist

A/n: I maintain that I don't have a mommy kink but maybe just for Park Seonghwa I do. Also I'm trying out more short-form smut writing with the timestamp format so let me know if I should do more things like this.

18+ Only. Minors DNI

“Mommy…Hwa…please.”

“I know baby,” Seonghwa cooed, thumbing away the tears which had begun to gather in the corners of your eyes. “I know. Mommy's going to take good care of you.”

He hadn't moved his cock inside you since he slipped himself inside you moments ago, apparently wishing to prolong your torture of not having him fuck you longer than he already was.

You worried your lip between your teeth, looking up at Seonghwa with glassy eyes, the man's smile soft as he looked back at you. “Promise?”

Seonghwa cooed again, leaning down to lick over the shell of your ear to make you shiver. He shifted his hips minutely, the small thrust inside of you making you whimper. “Oh baby,” he licked over your ear again, voice low when he spoke, “I'll make every wish of yours come true.”

He pulled back from you and completely removed his cock from inside you, only to shove himself back into the hilt. The action caused you to cry out, sliding up the bed as Seonghwa began a rough pace, snapping his hips into yours with precision.

“Hwa…Hwa, Seonghwa, please…mommy!” Your words were almost incoherent, mind numb with pleasure, and Seonghwa was looking at you so fondly, lip between his teeth as he let a few deep groans slip.

“That's it baby. So good for mommy. So fucking good for mommy.”

You threw your head back, eyes rolling from the pleasure Seonghwa was providing you with. He never let up with his pace, relentless as he fucked you into the soft sheets of his mattress, his moans sounding more and more like growls the longer you went on.

“Mommy,” you whimpered, throwing your arms around Seonghwa's neck to bring him in for a messy kiss, more spit and teeth and tongue than anything. “Need to cum. Need to cum so bad.”

“You need it do you?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he pulled away from you, slowing down his thrusts and smirking when you whined in disappointment.

“Yes! Need it so bad. Seonghwa, mommy…Hwa…please.”

Seonghwa tsk'd, shaking his head. “I'm not the one you should be begging baby.”

For the first time that night, your attention was directed to the corner of Seonghwa's room, to the navy blue velvet armchair and to the man sitting in it, biting the tip of his finger with his teeth as he watched you and Seonghwa.

“You didn't forget about me, did you princess?”

Kim Hongjoong was a vision when he was like this.

Gazing at you with eyes so dark you were sure you could see your reflection through them, acting nonchalant as he sipped on his whiskey and watched you, even as his cock strained against the material of his slacks.

You shook your head quickly, moaning when Seonghwa's cock hit a particularly sweet spot inside of you “No! Hongjoong, I swear I didn't forget about you. I would never. I could never.”

Hongjoong looked pleased with your answer, setting his whiskey down on the coffee table and leaning back in the armchair with his thighs spread. He hummed softly as he popped the button of his slacks, dragging the zipper down slowly, almost as tortuous as Seonghwa's slow grinds inside of you. You let out a pathetic whimper as he freed his cock and both men laughed, although Seonghwa sounded far less composed.

“You want to cum princess?” Hongjoong hummed condescendingly, motioning for Seonghwa to resume his relentless pace of fucking you.

“Yes! Yes Joong I want to cum so badly, please let me cum. Please…please.”

“Since you begged so nicely,” Hongjoong purred, squeezing the base of his cock. “Cum. Cum all over Seonghwa's cock, cream on him.”

Your gaze was abruptly ripped from Hongjoong’s as Seonghwa turned your face back to him, squishing your cheeks together. “And you're going to look at me while you do it. He's not making you cum, I am. You understand?”

You whined out a yes, feeling so close to the edge with Seonghwa's actions and Hongjoong’s permission. Seonghwa grinned triumphantly and kissed your pout before redoubling his efforts. “Good girl. Then cum for me. Cum for mommy.”

General Taglist: @hiseu @yeosayang @avyskai @whatudowhennooneseesyou @foxdaisy @maskedmochii

[lotusarchon]

As I have the app around, I may as well just dive into this before disappearing again. To the people in my post a few days prior and in my dms, I promise I'm not ignoring any of you, but I genuinely can't muster the energy to speak to anyone else currently. I'm only here currently because someone found my unmentioned hetalia account, which I left unmentioned for a reason...you know who you are...you scared me...😭

Ah, okay well. If you're not aware of who I am, hi. I'm a dude that wrote fanfiction for this fandom I got pulled into. A year ago I had a few different accounts but I had to delete every single one just because I kept getting harassed, from one thing to another. I'm hoping I don't have to do it again this time around.

I haven't gone offline as anyone thought. I did attempt to take my life (twice, 2024 is something else) but in the end it didn't work out, so I've been hiding in my secret account to relax in hetalia for a bit. In between that I've also been stalking the account myself since it showed up just to see what it was up to, and...oh wow that's a lot.

This specific account has been on my ass like a tick since..two days ago. Two days of my 'supposed' death.

I've also recently found out that someone else who was pretending to be a friend of my friend's and a concerned citizen happened to be friends with them;

And hence why I chose not to reemerge my head back then yet. It turns out there's a few people who may have been following me who are acquainted with these people and...yeah, I didn't want to take the risk. I'm hoping no one is going to inform them I'm not actually dead―I blocked both accounts to avoid being noticed.

There's a lot of yapping I'm gonna be doing so expect a lot of that, BUT piece of advice to anyone that actually cares: do not engage with either blog. Don't send them hate mail, don't go gloating that I'm not actually dead, and don't fucking yap about anything. These blogs went as far as to harass my friends who have no part in this, and they also wrote nsfw of my adult oc and my friend who is a fucking minor. Do. Not. Engage. With. Them. Please!! Block, block, block. Just block them! They're actively going out of their way to harass and stalk MINORS.

Under the cut, I am rambling more on personal feelings rather than doing this professionally. I'm still pretty moody actually and well yeah...

Trigger Warning for some topics below!

Okay uh. I've never done this before so excuse me while I put this in question format lmfao..

"Why aren't you dead!?"

Joke answer; god doesn't want me.

Long answer: I'm not the type of person who says something like that ...like that. I really was intending to go through with it, but evidently I was too tired from crying and fell asleep. I figured that I couldn't handle people fucking around with me and hid in my secret blog. Hetalia fandom is so nice for a fandom about countries. Point blank sorry to burst many of your bubbles, but I'm not dead yet. Put the birthday canon away, slut. I'll die next season.

"What the fuck did you even do?"

Exist.

No okay, realistically it's a lot. I'm not going to play the victim here's and I'm not going to lie to people and say "oh hey my mental illness/trauma made me do that" because that's bullshit. I'm also not diving too deep into any explanations just because my hands hurt..but also I don't want to remember anything less I have another panic attack.

A year ago I met this girl who became my friend over a fandom. We chatted, but I fucked our friendship up when I lashed out at her and another friend wrongfully because of my own stress. While I did beg one of them to stay, the chick that runs kokomichanstuff, Mariin, I ended the friendship with her just because I knew what I did was bad. There really aren't any excuses for that. I don't think anyone should have to deal with anyone else's bad attitude regardless of mental health or not. I didn't bother to keep Mariin around because I did bad, and no amount of apologies would fix it. She already said she wouldn't forgive me, so I knew it made no sense to keep up a facade. I genuinely had no idea she would've been mad that I begged one person to stay but not her, even though she expressed not wanting to be my friend. I also don't remember truly if what I did was enough to earn THIS type of harassement, but I'll take it as divine punishment. But basically, over and over again Mariin has stalked me and found a way to harass me. According to the posts she made, she's made a new friend I (sadly) hurt who wants..revenge. Hooray.

Mariin's already namedropped them so um, yeah, I hope it's okay to mention them?? . Neveah was someone I also hurt really badly by bullying and lashing out at her out of jealousy over something ridiculously dumb in my old server and account. I confronted her later on apologizing but specifically also adding that she didn't need to forgive me because I messed up. Long story short, she claimed she had forgiven me.... but then went to her friends (Mariin mentioned) Geno, Toga etc to badmouth me, including sharing sensitive information I sent to her. Neveah's friend Geno made a post mocking me which I found and responded poorly too, and then more drama escalated from there because literally every single one of Neveah and Geno's friends came to bombard me, sent me hate mail and surprise, Mariin took the chance to come back. I don't know how the fuck those two (Mariin and Neveah) managed to speak, but sometime later a few accounts appeared that went after people who were once associated with me or used to be associated with me. A few days ago the account made supposedly by Neveah made a post accusing me of being a r*pist, groomer and pedophile and yeah. That went badly.

Uh. Wow this is a mouthful. But. Yeah, I'm...not really a good person, and these things are just embarrassing and..ick. I hate myself for the shit I pull. But, I will say, while I can accept Mariin harassing me like this, the other parties just...genuinely could've handled this better than what they did to me. It really wouldn't have been so hard to ask me instead of listening to one side, but maybe that's me. Regardless, I admit I was wrong. I just..I'm not happy other people are getting involved.

"Why didn't you just say something sooner instead of all that nonsense? Wasn't that too dramatic?"

Sadly it was, but I don't think any of you understand when I say that I CAN'T. I can't say anything because it's just me, me, me. It's just me, and people aren't going to believe me. They never do. When that shitshow happened with Neveah, everyone was blaming me. Even up till recently, someone in my current server told me I was the one who overreacted over getting bullied and harassed. I'm not mentioning them here but holy fuck, that shit hurt. The anons coming in my inboxes telling me "people are offering you advice and you don't want it", it fucking hurts. It genuinely hurts because every single time I try to speak up against anything, or stand up for myself, I'm the one who's in the wrong.

Geno, Neveah, Mariin, fucking Toga and Deja and the entire fucking crew. They're never the ones who get wronged, and they haven't lost anything. Even when Mariin's account gets deleted, she's fine. She has people that actually fucking listens to her, all of them do.

I don't. There's no one aside from the few friends I have who would actually listen to me and not just immediately jump at me, and I'd rather just not have them involved in anymore drama that revolves around me.

Yeah, holy shit, maybe attempting to kill myself from the stress was overbearing but you guys have no fucking idea what it's like. Every time, every time I make a report or say something, I'm the one who's told I'm at fault. It's either, "You're don't look like a child, it's not their fault they want to touch you," or, "You overreacted," or, "Maybe you shouldn't have said anything," or even, "You're so ungrateful, I'm trying to help you."

It. fucking. Sucks. It. SUCKS. Its terrifying that regardless if it's my real life or on the internet, no one listens, no one cares and the one who's left hurting is Ali because who fucking cares. Who gives a shit right?

"....did you try to kill yourself over Nezha?"

Everything started with Nezha, and I'm not even fucking kidding. I don't remember how I met Mariin but I knew for a fact it was something about him. And when we broke our friendship off, I got attacked a LOT about his age. I want to pretend that maybe it was all Mariin, but with how things are, I don't doubt for a second this fucking fandom were jumping me for a character who already has a confirmed age.

I could tell you that I was just stressed about Mariin, but that'd be a lie. Everywhere I go with this fandom, I'm always getting hassled about Nezha's age. From the beginning I was already stressed, because I continuously kept getting anon after anon calling me names and accusations for a fictional fucking character.

I don't deny that Mariin didn't have a part to play. She most definitely made things worst for me with using Nezha to slander me further. It's just my luck that the people in this fandom are idiots that'll listen to anything anyone says.

Think of it this way; the pot was near burning on the stove, it just needed some more fuel.

"Why didn't you just listen to the anons?"

Sighs

Mind you, this was supposedly when I was DEAD. Trust me, I've had far worst flooding my inboxes. Before it was about Nezha's age. Recently, it was to kill myself and the accusations.

I'm not saying the advice was ever bad. But the anons were strangers for all I care who had no idea what the fuck was happening. I've tried blocking anons before, I also went to far lengths to ignore them, but there's only so much I can take. Every day, day in day out on any blog I've made, ever since I started writing for Nezha, I've been receiving dozens and dozens of hate I've had to delete constantly. Not even counting the ones that just randomly told me to die!!

"just ignore them" I'm not a child. I. know. I know, I know, I've been trying, but when people don't respect my boundaries and don't even bother to listen when I say I've done it, how do you think I'm going to feel?

"oh but you should put that as your trigger then it's not their fault" oh yeah, "hey everyone 🥺 when people don't listen to me I cry". How do you think it'll sound? Plus, why should I need to add that when I wasn't expecting anyone to actually act like this on the internet to begin with?!

"Why don't you just move to a different platform then if the hate is that bad?"

Ignoring Mariin for a bit, even if I were to go into another platform to write fanfiction (and I highly doubt there's many I'll feel comfortable in), why should I, and what makes you think the hate will stop there?

AO3 is a place where THE worst people write porn. And you wouldn't believe that I've had to delete quite a number of assholes on there for Nezha's age. Don't mention Twitter where the nonsense started about his age, and don't bring in bluesky because there's a word limit and I'm not limiting myself to that. Even Wattpad has them yelling about Nezha's age. WATTPAD!! Genuinely what makes you think I'll be safe anywhere I go?

I hate Tumblr but this account is my safe space from reality at this point. It used to be the place that made me not want to die. Just because you guys are jerks, why should I need to go?

This also goes back to Mariin and the harassers. Even in my fake death I can't know peace. If I were to move out, wouldn't she get to live her life peacefully while I'm miserable trying to understand a place I don't want to be in?

"Then just leave the LMK fandom!"

Again, why should I? LMK is my comfort show. I genuinely enjoy writing for silly legos, and I also love learning about things I didn't know about before. Why should I have to leave just because the fandom is filled with jerks? Why don't you guys just leave instead if you're butthurt about anyone daring to speak an opinion?

"The accusations-!"

Are lies.

I was r*ped before. Why would I find any pleasure r*ping anyone else? How does one even do that through online?

I was groomed online and assaulted in real life. Why would I think of hurting another human being, most less a child, like that when I still can't even read anything that correlates to it? Why would I find any of those things pleasing?

I turned 18 in 2024. It's not an excuse and I've been doing my best to not interact with minors, or at the very least avoid speaking about topics that are inappropriate for them. Even though I still forget I'm an adult on occasion, I know better than to pull up on my younger friends and start talking about nsfw. I've only ever spoken weirdly to my adult friends.

I recently saw someone comment on the account that I'm Islamphobic/don't support Palestine, so that makes me problematic. I grew up in an Islamic family, I have trauma with that specific religion (inclu. Hinduism and Christianity, long story). I don't interact with anything regarding religion if I can and I also don't judge someone based on their religion. I judge you based on how you speak to me. If you have a weird icon, I don't like you, if you speak weirdly, I don't like you. Additionally, I'm the type of person who feels guilty for making someone upset. I can't support myself, most less for others. No, I don't agree with genocide but it's genuinely too much for me to keep up with.

And finally, how the fuck is liking a character who's an adult make me a proshipper? Jesus Christ again with Nezha. I hate this.

"You have no proof!"

Of course I don't. I don't keep bad memories around. I wouldn't have remembered my own childhood if I didn't get triggered about it. I block bad memories out. Many interactions I've had that are bad, I delete. I don't think about saving, I delete.

Even interactions with friends I usually delete because it's just weird not seeing a blank space. I don't hate them but leaving a spot full feels weird.

I don't have any proof I'm none of the accusations but neither does Mariin, to be frank. So if you chose to believe her because you just genuinely don't like me, good for you, but you look like sheep being led by a drunk shepherd. Either you'll end up in a slaughterhouse and starve, your pick.

I'm not going to say, "Oh ask my minor friends!" Because...they're kids. I feel horrible my friend got roped into this to begin with, the last thing I want is for anyone else be involved when they barely know shit.

Yeah, rambled a bit. I didn't want too but I got carried away, whoops.

This is the only post I want to make about this issue. Don't bring it up, don't uhh, don't mention me to the account, and please just allow me to rest in peace. I just want to write and feel free, not deal with this shit, okay?

Also. Please stop involving my friends into beef you have with me. It's really not their fault they have to deal with someone like me.

Goodbye. I'm deleting the app again until I return. Adios

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Omg can you please do a part 2 to the “pervert Dave” headcannons, I’m begging, thank youu

A/n: Don't ask why I changed the format for this one, can't explain, just enjoy <3

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, dom!reader sub!Dave, slight bondage, begging, if you think I missed something please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Link to part 1

He hadn’t quite noticed you yet, eyes shut tight as his hand kept moving up and down his length. The little piece of fabric in his hands, your panties, was soaked through with his cum. You could tell by how red his dick was that he’d been going at this for a while

You watched him, mesmerised at how he moved, the sounds he made. Soft moans and low grunts. How his back arched slightly, indicating he was close again.

“Naughty boy.” You said at last, clueing Dave into your presence. He shot up and covered himself with the blanket, tossing the used panties away, as if you hadn’t already seen them.

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were coming over.” He sputtered, face flushed a bright red as he looked anywhere but you.

You tsked and shook your head at him. “Touching yourself with my clothes?” You came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Could’ve just asked for some help, you know.” Dave stared at you as you came over to sit with him, taking in everything you’re saying.

“I-I could’ve..?” He asked, his voice airy. You nodded with a hum.

“Not anymore.” You said with a sigh. “You lost that chance, didn’t you?” Dave shook his head and reached out for you, not caring that the blanket moved off of him.

“No, no, I didn’t! I didn’t mean to, please!” He whined, tugging on your arm. “Please fuck me.” You chewed your cheek, looking him up and down. You smirked and reached for his pulsing cock, giving it a few slow strokes.

“You wanted to cum so bad, did you?” He whined in response and relaxed a little as you started jerking him off. Of course you wanted him to get what he wanted, helping him to reach another high, but that wasn’t all you had planned. He wanted to cum, so he’s going to cum until you’re done.

Dave was now on his back, you had to tie his wrists to the bed at some point because he just wouldn’t stop squirming. His stomach, chest and thighs were all covered in spurts of his cum, the bed sheets were also soaked through and your hand was no exception to his mess.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, he was sobbing and begging for you to stop but you knew he didn’t want you to, not when he was helplessly bucking his hips up to your hand.

You never thought you’d love seeing him in this state so much, all fucked out and whining like a bitch in heat. You couldn’t stop yourself from pulling more and more orgasms out of him, all just to see his face contorted in pleasure.

You could see in his eyes he could barely stay conscious so you decided enough was almost enough. “Just one more for me, alright? Just one more’s all I need, baby boy.” He whined softly at that but nodded and continued to squirm in your hold. His cock twitching in your hand as you sped up once more.

It didn’t take much at this point, he was ready to cum untouched and the way you toyed with his tip had him drooling and soon he was leaking all over your hand again, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Dave’s body finally gave in, going limp onto the mattress beneath him. His body was still twitching as he looked up at you, eyes glazed over and not fully focusing on your figure. You smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on the forehead before going off to get something to clean him up with.

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Choking And Gasping

Pairing: Dream (Morpheus) x GN! Submissive! Reader.

Warnings: Smut, Choking, Tears from sex, Daddy kink, Innocent? reader, Dream is a bastard who guess off on you whimpering.

Summary: Morpheus discovers he loves the sound of hearing you struggle to breathe.

Writing Time: 20 minutes.

Word Count: 374.

Format: Kinktober Headcannons, Day 19.

A/N:

Stitched does a face reveal! Check out my Wattpad chapter for Morpheus for this. Yes that's me in a poor Sally Face cosplay a above at MCM in October 2022, when I had the pleasure of meeting Tom Sturridge and Mason Alexander Park. Two lovely wonderful people. It feels so weird to write smut whilst picturing someone you've actually met.

Blurred face is my mother who doesn't know I post on Wattpad.

Short again but idgaf. I'm in the middle when it comes to writing for Dream, there was a short period where I really wanted to when the series first came out but I didn't and now I don't really want to anymore. But still feel like I need to make up for the time I wanted to and didn't. Oh well.

Here are my other Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

• Dream could be a little shit at times.

• Especially in the bedroom.

• He loved to tease you.

• There was just something about watching you squirm and cry and whimper that he couldn't resist.

• He loved being here. In his domain, leaning over you as you cried and begged for him.

• Not only did it make him rock hard, but it also made his heart flutter.

• You submitting you him in this way and trusting him completely.

• Also letting him see you in such a vulnerable state.

• Your hitched breath, your gasps from air as he continued to squeeze harder and harder on your throat...

• It all nearly made him cum in his pants.

• Dream stroked your cheek with his free hand and smirked down at you, whilst you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.

"Oh my sweet Lover..." He purred.

"Please Dream," You cried softly and barely able to speak with the pressure on your neck, "Please just fuck me already."

• You must love stroking his ego, I mean why else would you do it so much?

• You weren't really that naïve... was you?

• Dream squeezed your small neck tighter making you choke and gasp again, even if your neck wasn't small it definitely was in his giant hands, and stared into your eyes.

"Of course you pretty little thing. Daddy will give you what you want now..."

[junos-jrabbles]

Authors note ,, i’m gonna write sniper pet play and call it puppy love and you’re all going to nod in agreement, yes, yes, also i love titling these random lyrics from the songs im listening to, so, if you ever see a fic called ra ra rasputin please clapHAHAHA mobile post again sorry for formatting ily all

~~~

I know where you’re vulnerable,

Sniper x GNC Reader with a strap, pegging :) 1.8k words ish

18+ BELOW, SMUT, MINORS DNI GET OUT, PLEASE, NOW.

He's whining, moaning in words undecipherable, foreign tongue known and heard only by the pillow beneath his grovelling maw, which of course, in time, became covered in spittle and drool.

“Please—” Please? That's all he could really mewl out beneath you as you rimmed another finger along the tight muscles of his ass.

“Please, please—” His body would shake, trembling how you'd never seen it do so before, every movement with such a charged force behind it that you had to steady him with the warm heel of your palm to his back.

“It feels, fuck it feels so… so good?” He whines, almost like he's confused about just how easily you've gone about unravelling him.

You let him wonder, obviously, playing with his stoic demeanour was nearly your favourite part of this, watching such a brutal, cold man beg for pleasure only you could give him. You press in a second finger.

“You're doing so well, sweetheart.” You coo, and it's true, he’d almost kicked you the first time you tried, and there hadn't been a twitch like that since. You can feel every pulsation of his body around your digits as you pump them slowly, a scissoring motion stretching the gap, eliciting small panted gasps, and moans.

It was undeniably fun to see him like this, of course. His tanned hands gripping the sheets as he bucked back into your hand, practically humping into what was beneath him. Pathetic, nearly.

He doesn't respond to your praise, not much outside of noncommittal pitching tones and curt growls, thighs twitching at every brush of your arm.

“I…” You pause for a moment as he speaks, but grind the pads of your fingers against the warm flesh of his insides, free hand massaging into his back.

“I need… need to—” He pulls his head from this pillow, licking his lips to disconnect the trailing drool.

“Please, fuck, darl— fuck me?" The words fall from his mouth weakly as he blurrily sees you grinning wolfishly behind him, a strained moan escaping with his heaved breath as he feels you pull away, suddenly feeling much, much emptier than he had moments before. He shifts his weight on the mattress, his hips feeling like they'd pop right out at any moment.

Instead of having to deal with sore legs, he thinks, he grunts, huffs, and flops himself onto his back. Staring up at you, he's starry eyed as he watches you pull an object from the bedside drawer, and clip it onto your crotch. “You're… it'll fit right?” He huffs, a tremble raising goosebumps across his skin, he rubs his arms to smooth them back down.

“I’ll make sure it doesn't hurt too bad, yeah?” A noncommital answer that did nothing to quell the stirring, burning ache in his stomach.

“Stay relaxed for me baby, tell me if you don't like it, okay?” The way you lower yourself down to his neck as you whisper isn't helping either, he adjusts, jutting his hips towards yours as you nip at the tender flesh of his neck, settling between his thighs. Your hands work at bringing them around your waist, then he feels your nails scoring into the meat of his hip, and he winces.

He's doing his best, he's being a good boy, he knows, he knows he is, god does it feel weird to hear that… but, it feels good, too. What's weirder is the thrumming pain that made him squeal as he felt the squishy silicone tip just barely push past his asshole.

“Stop— hah, wait— waitwait—” He's got a fistful of your hair, and you biting into his neck, though you still your hips, lapping at the fresh marks you're leaving. He squirms beneath it all, every feeling enough to send pleasure shooting through his entire body, and he's sure he'll be spent in minutes if he can't keep up how he'd like to. He breathes, steadily as he can, eased by your quiet praise and guidance, sweet utterances of calmness that make him almost forget he asked you to plow him mere hours ago.

Moments later, he's ready, wriggling down onto you, eager for the stretch that he knew would come. “Gentle, roo, please…” Nothing much more than a weak, kitten's mewl against your skin as he buries his face in your neck, kissing and biting at wherever he could. Next, he'd growl like an animal, pinned beneath you, stretched where he hadn't been before, trying not to howl out in fused pleasure and pain as you slowly hilted the strapon inside him.

Once you were fully seated inside, you sat back, the slight pull winning a gasped groan from the man beneath you, followed by one louder as you wrapped your hand around the erect length of his cock. You steady yourself with one hand on his thigh, gently pumping him with the other.

“I'll move when you're ready, dingo.” You whisper into the warm air between you, licking your lips as you stare him down, like a lion with a wounded gazelle. You can see why he's so into acting like you're something he's caught, earned, hunted. It's invigorating.

He feels it too, you're sure, the way he arches himself, neck bared, whimpering soft pleads like he's searching for your mercy. You've not even begun. You hear something of an affirmative, and he taps you in quick succession, allowing you to pull your hips away, before gently pushing back in.

There's some resistance, of course, and you're incredibly slow in your movements. He was still getting used to it after all, if the leering grimace on his face was anything to go by. But, with each achingly slow thrust, he'd gently buck into your palm as you stroked him in time with the movements, hilting again, and rewarding him with a slow swipe across his tip with your thumb each time.

Tears were pricking the corners of his eyes as he squeezed his thighs around you, rocking into your slow movements as if eeking out every last drop of pleasure he could get.

“F-faster, please—” You slide your steadying hand up his thigh, and to his waist, lurching over him as you grin,

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He felt a tight squeeze of pressure as nearly the entire length of the strap left his core, and promptly pressed back in, your hand squeezing around his cock practically stopping all the blood flowing to his head. The thinking one. “Yes! Yes, yes— Thank, fuck— Thank you!” He was glad you were in the camper, god, all this noise would be a hell of a thing to have to explain.

You snap your hips into his at a nearly impressive speed, keeping your attention on him as you moan out in flagrancy in return, watching how he reduces down into a simmering puddle of a man so easily. His hands, lazily twitching fingers against your skin where occasionally, nails dip crescents into the flesh, hold purchase around your waist, your arms, your chest, wherever he can hold, reaching out to you as the pleasure wracks his entire self.

Barely a few minutes pass with your blistering pace leaving him shaking, howling, feeling like he'll tear from the inside out, with his cock throbbing, twitching and leaking in your tight grasp, until he's groaning out your name, and cursing you and your beauty. “Whhoah, Oh fuck me!” He cries out, laughing through each syllable and panting heaved breaths as his thighs tighten around your waist, urging you to slow down some. “Please I'm— Not yet, I— A little more, please!” This, you tut in response to, though obey his grasp and slow your thrusts, returning to that slow, grinding pace that you knew hit all the right spots, given the way he’d squirm and beg beneath you as you hit skin to skin.

You run your hands along his sides, pressing hungry kisses to his neck, trailing to his chest, placing the most tender, and loving kisses he’d ever felt along the scars lining his front. “We’ve got all the time in the world, beauty. You know I’d stop time for you.” Your voice came from you in a low, sultry purr as you nipped at his skin, tugging the pert pink flesh of his nipple between your teeth.

All he could do was groan, whining out your name oh so beautifully as he felt himself stretch, pulse, and clench around the length of your strap. His fingers dig deep into your skin as he tries to stop himself from reaching down and tugging himself off, scoring jagged red lines into your sides.

He brings one arm away to cover his face, forearm laid over his flushed cheeks only for a moment before he feels your hand around his wrist.

“Quit it, roo… I'm embarrassed…” He whined through a nearly drunken sounding giggle, moaning out raggedly as you murmured over him, “Let me see you.” Less of a suggestion, more of a command, and you pin his arms back down to his sides, kissing back up to his neck.

“You're all mine, aren't you?”

You bite, softly at first, but when he doesn't respond, “Answer me.” There's a droning whine from him as his hips buck beneath you, and you bite down harder, nearly hard enough to draw blood. You don't think he'd mind being prettied up by his own mess.

“I—, yours, yours…” He croons, arms scrambling for purchase around your back, his legs locking in just the same way that forced you as deep as possible into him,

“I'm, fuck! I'm yours!” He smothers his face in your neck, taking in everything as he feels himself coming undone. Everything about you just sent him over the edge so easily, how you felt, smelt, how you teased and touched him like he’d never felt before, love he'd not felt outside of drunken flings years ago.

He thinks this is the hardest he's ever came, clinging onto you while you pump fervently at his cock, the motion slickened by the seed that seeped from his bellend.

“That's it, there you go,” He shook in your arms like a wet chihuahua, grunting and humming against you in time with his ragged, lazy thrusts up into your hand.

“That’s a good boy…” You squeeze him one last time before you remove your hand, giggling as the scruff of his growing-in beard scratched at your collarbone. You look down between your warm, sweaty bodies and note the mess made between you.

You bring your sullied hand up and to your mouth, lapping off the majority of what was there before wiping it off on the bed sheets, nasty, but they'd be washed later anyway.

He can just barely peek his eyes open to watch you, shuddering at the sight of you cleaning himself off your fingers, making sure to get most of every slick drop.

“Fuck me,” His legs shake as they drop from around your waist, he brings you in for a tight hug, holding you to his chest. “Well, you just did— But that… that was good.” He purrs, kissing along the side of your face, and you let yourself melt into him, gently petting him all over, making sure you're both settled after the big event.

“Well, maybe we'll have to give it another go sometime, hm?”

~~~

Pry these emdashes from my cold dead fucking hands!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway is there a way to indent on tumblr? I like how it looks in my google docs, but people say it looks bad when posted online (a03, here) but looks good in books, i think it looks nice in general tbh

sorry if the ending is rushed I'm actually returning to the ice age, its fucking freezing cold here

[writing-for-the-gays]

ermm i have another request to make :3c if thats ok :3c

billy loomis and stu macher (both of em, in the poly way :3c) x reader with all of the specifications i had in my last request with uhmmmm :3c knife play :3c and predator/prey dynamics :3c

again, reader being fat nd hairy being central to the story :3c

also again, do whatever format and length you want ^_^

-🐛 anon

'Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?'

Billy Loomis x trans male! Stu macher x trans male! hairy! reader

Again with these things being self indulgent, reader is a disk jockey and a radio host who spreads misinformation Abt the lads so they can fuck two serial killers for a lil longer .

Brought to you by ovulation and weed.

I'm a Stu fucker so Billy is a little neglected.

I read hairy and ran with it.

You can pry my trans male stu hc out of my cold dead hands.

I wasn't sure how to end it but I did it.

Up to my usual bullshit

- You were supposed to be a victim, a little bit of a trial run before everyone else.

- you were a generally quiet guy, they didn't think that anyone would really notice you disappeared. Save for the fact the news station would have to get a new host, but who even really listened to it. Billy and Stu definitely didn't listen to it.

-they probably should've though. Desensitize each other to it. But they didn't.

- so when they called you Stu's face instantly turned red and he hung up. Which confused the hell out of Billy. ("Stu, what the hell was that?!" "His voice, man! It's making my fucking head foggy-!" "Fine I'll fucking do it!")

- Billy wasn't any better, but at least he was talking to you unlike Stu.

- he's palming himself through his jeans just listening to you try to tell him off for calling, but then he starts talking about fucking you with a knife to your throat and you go quite.

- he keeps going and he hears you panting on the other end, and he doesn't assume you're touching yourself at first.

- but then you fully moan while listening to him talk about fucking you balls deep and he's not dumb so he can put 2+2 together.

- he asks what room you're in and you give it too easy (he knows where you are, he can see your shadow from the window.)

-and soon you have two strangers fucking you so hard you can't think!

- Stu finds out you're trans too and starts rubbing your t-dicks together, and Billy fucks into Stu's hand, and you watch as they make out and-

- you cum so hard you literally pass out.

- Stu thinks he's killed you, and honestly, if he had you would've died happy, but he didn't and so you wake up to a very concerned Stu and a cackling Billy.

- You're fine obviously. But Stu still tries to be gentle with you, Billy keeps teasing your t-dick though, more fascinated with it than anything else, it's different than Stu's bc he's gotten surgery to make it appear bigger so he's just seeing how it's different, and he finds out you're significantly more sensitive!

- you three become semi regular fuck buddies, and when the official killings start you pretend you have no idea who's doing them, you pretend that when stu and Billy come over covered in blood to fuck your brain out you don't almost cum in your pants.

- then fuck buddies become something more. Somewhere in-between that first call and being bent over the bed as stu pegged you and Billy fucked your mouth 6 months lster you'd fallen in love with them.

- in the heat of the moment as you come moaning their names you say it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Fuckfuckfuck! Fuck right- right there please right there- Stu " your fingers sink into the sheets as you pull away from Billy, whose cum you'd just finished swallowing; mouth finally free to beg like the good boy you where.

"so good- so good Stu it's- ngh- haah please please more, need you to touch my cock~." The double ended dildo you were oh so familiar with fucked into you.

"Gonna cum- Please Please- Please-"

Normally you would fake it with penetration, there wasn't that much pressure in it... but with Stu- oh Stu was special, he knew exactly what to do with it, what to do to make your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

He denied your request with a simple scoff.

"No- not yet, I'm not even close, you can cum when I cum got it?"

You nod desperately, needing to submit to the look in his eyes. Filled with hunger, the urge to hunt. His hands travel up your body to your neck, resting on your Adam's apple.

Gently pressing down and cutting off your air Stu lets out an airy chuckle. "You don't even put up a fight... Fuck- don't even get the thrill of the chase with you, I just fuck you so good you forget that you're rubbing dicks with the big bad Ghostface..."

He grinds his hips, the dildo inside of you lets out a wet noise that makes your eyes squeeze shut and face go bright red.

"Fuck-! Pretty boy you're so wet, Jesus, it's the prettiest fuckin thing I've every seen, just glistenin' and shit-"

His free hand goes to your thigh, massaging the flesh and playing with some of the dark coarse hair that covered it.

He places his hand flat and plays with the fat on your thighs, watching as it jiggles with every harsh thrust he gives you. He admires the way they look powerful, dark hair covering your body, he admires the way you look different from him.

The way your body was covered in thick hair, starting from your face (a light stubble, and the starting of an already well maintained moustache)

to your chest (dark hair covering two mounds of mouth wateringly hot flesh, softer and bigger version of Billy's pecs.)

to your cunt (fuck the way your hairy cunt rubbed against his clean shaven one made him weak, he didn't know something like that could even turn him on that much.)

to your legs (You wore a pair of shorts mid summer once and both Billy and Stu couldn't keep their eyes off your legs).

Stu was thin and almost totally hairless, what hair he had was sparse and blonde, it hadn't changed with T for him, and he wasn't mad. He generally likes being hairless, a preference.

He was always at least trimmed if not fully shaved down there. (To show off his t-dick, that surgery was expensive. Wasn't as expensive as full Phalloplasty tho.)

A Twink in all regards making his big handsome bear fall apart on some silicone, it made his dick throb, twitching in-between his folds.

He locks eyes with Billy who's staring at you intently, focusing on the way you seem completely out of it, face flushed, mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed closed in concentration. Trying not to cum until you where told.

Your cunt flutters helplessly against the dildo in you, It's slick, not just with your juices but his as well, the double ended dildo didn't have any barrier to prevent your juices from mixing, or your t-dicks from grinding together with each thrust.

Billy's once softening cock perks right back up when stu brings his hand in-between your bodies to rub at both of your cocks. finally.

Your mouth hangs open and Billy doesn't hesitate to take the opportunity to thrust into your mouth, leaning over you to capture Stus lips in a heated kiss, tongues sloppily rubbing against each other as they use you. Billy's hands rests on your chest, running his fingers over the thick dark hair and massaging your boobs while playing with your nipples. He's not in your mouth long, mind you, still overly sensitive. He jerks off slow and steady as he watches you two.

Then you're cumming, eyes rolling back mouth hanging open. It's like your body is lit on fire, thighs jolting and quivering

you babble "Fuck! Fuck I love you- I love you your cock is so big- your so fucking hot, both of you, need-need both of you-!" Your hips are rolling wildly, right against Stu's clit. Which sends him over the edge face scrunching up before it relaxes and his mouth hangs open.

Billy comes on your face with a low growling noise slumping over as his cum decorates your cheeks his cock twitching with every shot of jizz.

After a moment Billy lets out a soft chuckle, breath heaving.

"Stu... I told you they'd say it first."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

- you three are basically inseparable.

- the girls think you're just best friends, and considering the fact you're a disk jockey with the school radio station they don't put if past the boys to just be using you to play their favorite songs more often.

- you also did the morning news, and you always reported on the ghost face killings. Billy would sit under the desk and suck particularly hard on your dick if you said something that would throw the investigation off.

- Billy loves playing with your ass, he's such an ass man it's almost funny.

- he gets hard just watching you walk away. Especially if you have a particularly large ass. (His nickname for you is booty.)

- he just grabs a handful of your ass.

- both of them are constantly horny have fun trying to keep their hands off of you.

- y'all's sex playlist is mostly disco

[gilliebee]

hi! what are your fav pics of Saint Patrice?

hello!! wonderful question/impossible challenge!!

this one makes me tear up!!!!! I am so desperate for this to happen to him again in 2024 please I am begging the entire universe!!!!!!

and then this one for similar reasons of course

THE FULL SHIRTLESS REVEAL. I'M STILL REELING FROM THIS BOMBSHELL. CMAC CHANGED MY LIFE IN AN INSTANT WITH THIS ONE 🫡

this one makes me fucking GUFFAW because like ok it's clearly referencing the burrows biting incident of '11 (the meme format itself is like a self-timestamp lmao) BUT WITHOUT THAT CONTEXT. THIS IS SO.....mysterious, I love that it could imply anything!

big fan of when he's teeny tiny, you really can't go wrong with teeny tiny patrice. always reminds me of all the people in my old high school french text books

someone photoshopped a ton of cats onto this one and I can't help but respect that so deeply

I adore ones that are framed with PURPOSE like this!!!

this one really does it for me but I simply don't have enough time to figure out how to put into words why so it's gonna have to speak for itself

This one is a great sample of the genre where he's looking like a literal model in a high class magazine selling me a $7000 wool coat or something 👌👌👌👌

tangential to that is of course the Walking to Work While Wearing the Slickest Suit Known to Man. kinda some mob boss au vibes going on here

there are never enough ones where he is being SEVERELY cherished by bradley (or vice versa) even though they are literally endless

AND FINALLY speaking of bradley, this one is one of my top favs, it is so uncanny I think about it all the time the vibes are so WEIRD and I can't explain it at all. is it funny? is it sinister? is it like they exist in a mirror universe and were never meant to gaze into a camera from this universe??? yes

alright this is by no means a comprehensive list but I do fear I'll run into the pic limit soon so thank you for tuning into this episode of

@woodswit

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part four - savior complex

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

As you pulled away from the kiss, panting, you searched Rafe’s eyes and only found solace in them. Why did this feel so right? Was it the greenhouse or the beauty of the plants surrounding you, the hues of green in the leaves that towered over your figure? Was it the romance or the pouring rain? You couldn’t put your finger on it and then, his blue eyes bore into yours and you could. It was Rafe. It was the man of your dreams kissing you at the college you’d both attend. You’d dreamed about this moment forever, thinking it would never really come and yet, you had your guard up, wondering when things got tough, if he’d run away again. 

“Rafe-” 

He kissed you passionately again, cutting off your words, both hands cradling your cheeks like his life depended on it. You chuckled.

“Rafe..” 

You placed your hands against his chest, pushing him away.

“What is it, sweet girl?” 

His tone was kind. It stung. You wanted him as close as you could get him, his sweet voice replaying over and over again in your ears forever.  

“I-, w-we can’t do this.” 

You stuttered out.

“What do you mean?” 

The hurt washed over his face and you immediately regretted the words that left your lips. 

“I’ve wanted this with you forever and-” 

Your words were cut off by Rafe once more, his pleading eyes, begging you not to let the moment end.

“Then, have it with me. I’m right here.” 

Before your brain could register its next move, the words were spewing out of your mouth at an aggressive volume.

“You have a reputation with girls, okay?” 

You said forcefully.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He asks, accusingly. Though, the hurt laced in his blue eyes makes your chest tight. 

“It means I can’t be another one of your conquests. I can’t be another girl at a party or in your truck or on your lap in a golf cart if you’re not going to care about me next week. I’ve been there before, I can’t do it again.” 

You blurted out without thinking, really. But, you can’t deny the words – you meant them. The truth was, you had been that girl, minus the sex, you’d been his girl and then one day, like whiplash after a car accident, you’d woken up and he was gone. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle that again.  

“Is that what you think of me?” 

His head hung low as he whispered. Before you were able to reply, your thoughts were quickly shoved away when the dinging of your phone erupted from within your backpack that still sat on Rafe’s shoulders. His features softened as yours fell. 

“You feel okay? Is that the tone for your blood sugar?” 

He asks gently. 

“It always does some stupid shit at the worst conceivable time.” 

He could tell you beat yourself about it, your illness. He wondered why, no one could help being sick. Who had made you feel like it was a problem? You looked down at your phone as Rafe handed it to you and realized your blood sugar was fine, you perked up at that. But, mentally cursed at Topper’s contact flashing across your screen. 

“I’m okay, Rafe. Don’t worry. It’s just Top.” 

You gave him a reassuring smile and he returned it. The words from moments ago seemingly forgotten, at least for now. 

“Hello?” 

You asked, clearing the phlegm from your throat. 

“Hey, where are you guys?”

He questioned. 

“We’re in the arboretum.” 

You replied with the hint of a smile. 

“You and that fucking greenhouse, I swear. Okay, well. Let’s get a move on. It’s pouring rain and I’m ready to go home.” 

Topper’s attitude had hurt you more than usual and your smile quickly faltered. 

“O-okay. We’ll be there soon.” 

You spoke into the speaker, trying to keep your voice even as you ended the call. 

“Everything okay?” 

Rafe asked, hesitantly. 

“Yeah, Topper just being Topper. He’s ready to go home because of the rain.” 

You let out a defeated chuckle, eyes tracing to your feet. Rafe had heard what Topper said. You and that fucking greenhouse. Rafe never understood how Topper could be so tone deaf, such a fucking idiot. Why was loving beautiful things so wrong? 

“Okay.” 

Rafe nodded and led you out of the front door of the greenhouse. This time there was no hand on your back or smile from him and you had never craved his warmth so much. There were no words exchanged between the two of you, only your guilt eating away at your core and before you knew it you were back at the Jeep. Rafe didn’t open your door for you and at that revelation, you swallowed thickly and tears lined your eyes. You had ruined your one chance with him. Topper and Kelce were taken aback by the sudden rigidity between you and the Cameron boy, but knew better than to say anything about it. They only assumed the happiness was short lived and you’d go back to hating each other. The car ride was long and agonizing and after two hours of radio silence from Rafe, you were in shambles. So you did what any teenager with no self respect would, you texted him. 

Y: Can we talk? 

R: for what 

Y: i’m sorry 

R: why 

Y: I was mean and you didn’t deserve that, just got scared 

R: scared? Of what? 

Y: you. 

R: why would you be scared of me? 

Y: because I know what kind of hurt your absence can bring. 

He didn’t respond to the last text and you took that as the final nail in the coffin. You had fucked this up. This entire day was perfect until you opened your big fat dumb fucking mouth and now the intimacy, the closeness, the Rafe you had so desperately prayed for was slipping out of your grasp. You could almost cry, but you knew if you started you’d never stop. Brought out of your thoughts by Rafe’s gruff voice, you looked to him as he spoke to Topper. 

“Just go to Y/N’s house instead of mine.” 

Your face fell and you started to spiral, he had taken back his dinner invitation and you could no longer hold in your tears, scared he was going to go away again, this time maybe permanently. You simply couldn’t bear that pain again.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” 

Topper questioned, worry lacing his features as he took in the look on your face. 

“Yeah, m’fine.” 

The tone of your voice made the hair on the back of Rafe’s neck stand up. It was flat, in a broken, numb sort of way. He hadn’t heard you use that tone since the night he took Maggie Mills up to his room after a party. He never understood why that had upset you so much. He looked at you, watching as tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes and you stared at the floorboard of Top’s car. You couldn’t feel anything, numbness over taking your body. He placed his hand on your shoulder, begging you to look at him, but your eyes remained locked on the floor. You couldn’t face him, not now, not after you had ruined things with him, again. You were brought away from the sadness by the ding of your phone. It was Rafe, again. 

R: please tell me what’s wrong 

Y: isn’t it obvious 

R: no, please tell me 

Y: you don’t want me at dinner now. You don’t want me.

R: what? 

Rafe began to put two and two together and visibly winced at the fear he had struck within you. 

R: I just wanted you to have fresh clothes. I’m sorry, I should’ve said that. Please don’t cry, pretty girl. I’d never do that to you. 

You didn’t reply to his message, but he looked on as your body slowly began to relax and reached over, wiping the tears from your cheeks and giving you a subtle smile. You returned it. Rafe had always catered to your anxiety, but he hadn’t been around you in so long, he almost couldn’t recognize it when it overcame you. Topper pulled into your driveway soon after and you were quick to rush inside, slipping into a new dress, adorned with pale pink lilies, and grabbing extra insulin before making your way back out to the jeep and climbing in next to Rafe. You quickly unzipped the bag that sat in between the two of you and shoved the insulin inside and you looked down at your phone, checking your levels one more time. They were still fairly normal, reading at 85 mg. Rafe looked over your shoulder, making sure your levels were okay and he was pleased when he saw they were. He knew it had been a long time since you’d eaten and you needed real food soon. As the sound of Topper’s brakes bringing the car to a halt met your ears, you locked eyes with Rafe who hopped out of the car almost immediately. 

“Well boys, this was fun. I’ll see you two soon.” 

You say with a false cheek. 

“Bye, beautiful.” 

Kelce muttered, dragging out the “L” on his last word. Topper simply nodded his head in your direction, unsure of what was going on between you and Rafe, but too tired to ask questions. By the time you had said your goodbyes to both boys, Rafe had made his way around to the side of the car and opened your door, helping you out with the grasp of his hand. 

“Thanks, Rafe.” 

You whispered, looking at the ground, still too spooked to look him in the eye. 

“No problem, pretty girl.” 

He smiled in response to your gratitude and the both of you made your way into the house. 

“Rafe, is that you?” 

Rose called to him as you both entered the foyer. 

“Yeah, it’s us.” 

He called back to her. She quickly emerged from the kitchen, meeting you both in the huge room, giving her greetings and ushering you over to the table where you were met with your father’s disapproving eyes. 

“Honey! It’s so good to see you. I was wondering where you were all day.” 

Your mother chimed in, walking over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hi, mama. Yeah, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and I left early this morning to tour UNC. We made it back just in time for dinner.” 

“That’s wonderful, sweet girl! Did you love it?” 

She questioned. 

“Yes. Rafe took me to the greenhouse.” 

You smiled, but it quickly faded as you looked over at him, remembering the events that followed. He didn’t meet your gaze. 

“Rafe! Thank you, that’s been my girl’s dream for quite some time, being in that greenhouse, with you especially.” 

She smiled brightly in his direction and gave him a wink. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassed at your mother’s outburst of too much fucking information. Rafe let out a low chuckle and your brother, Brock, opened his mouth to speak. 

“Hopefully she wasn’t too much trouble for you, today, Rafe.” 

He spoke, his tone demeaning. 

“She’s never any trouble, she’s my best girl.” 

Rafe responded in an even, joking tone, in an attempt to diffuse the situation before his temper got the best of him. His hand made its way to your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When did your brother become such a dick and what gave him the right to speak about you like you weren’t in the room? The subject quickly changed as Rose and Ward began asking you and Rafe about the campus and your majors. 

“So, Y/N, what are you thinking of majoring in?” 

Ward questioned. 

“I’d like to go into English with a minor in entrepreneurship. I’d like to take some business classes, too, I think.” 

You responded. 

“That’s wonderful! Business and English are two things that will help you so much in the working world.” 

He replied, truly excited for you. He’s always been one of your favorite adults. 

“Yeah, thank you! I think so too.” 

You replied with a sweet smile. 

“You know, you could always intern at Cameron Development this summer and get some hands on training with Rafe, Brock, and I.” 

He suggested. 

“Thank you, Ward. I seriously would love that!” 

You smiled his way, unsure if you’d take him up on his offer. It would look good on college applications and it would mean more time with Rafe, those were both good things, right? 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, y/n. I don’t know that you could handle the workload, what with your condition and all.” 

Brock said quickly with a sneer. You cast your eyes immediately down to where your hands sat in your lap. 

“What about you, Rafe?” 

Your mother questioned him, ignoring your brother. It hurt that they oftentimes bowed down to his asshole nature, not wanting to fight with him. Sometimes you just wanted to feel fought for.  

“Dad and I have been talking about me going to business school and running the company eventually.” 

Rafe replied quietly, still unsure he had heard Brock correctly. Because the guy he knew loved his sister, he wouldn’t be treating you like this, especially not in public. 

“Of course! You’re a smart young man, it’s only fitting. You have a bright future ahead of you.” 

She replied with a cheerful tone. 

“Thank you, that means so much coming from you.” 

He replied with a kind smile. He always loved your mother and her sweet words meant the world to him. The familiar beep of your glucose monitor brought your attention away from the conversation and toward your phone in your lap. Rafe watched you intently, reading the levels over your shoulder. 80mg. ‘That can’t be good’, he thought. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

He whispered into your ear and you met his eyes. 

“I’m not feeling good, but I’m fine. I need to eat soon.” 

You responded, reassuring him. Even though you knew your levels were getting dangerously low. 

“How much longer on the food, Rose?” 

Rafe questioned. 

“About 5 minutes.” 

She smiled, letting him know it would be right out. Thirty seconds passed and the alert on your phone beeped loudly once more. You averted your gaze from your brother’s eyes and let out a sigh, but that didn’t stop his mouth from opening. 

“Not this shit again.” 

He spoke, boldly. 

“What did you just say?” 

Rafe’s tone was coated with venom, as he gave your brother a tight lipped smile, urging him to repeat himself, daring him to. 

“I’m just tired of the same shit everyday. She needs sugar, she needs insulin, blah, blah, blah. Everything is always about her.” 

He gritted out. 

“Oh you’re tired of it?! How the fuck do you think she feels?” 

Your father interjected, keeping his voice low, his kind honey-colored eyes becoming dark at Brock’s words. He’s clearly had enough. 

“Well, I’m sorry, this might not be my place. But, I don’t think she’s thrilled about it either and here she is dealing with it. It went off and she sighed, all she did was fucking sigh. She didn’t demand attention from everyone in the room. All she did was fucking sigh and you know what? She’s allowed to do that. She’s allowed to be frustrated about something that is wrong with her body. You could show some fucking compassion.” 

Rafe growled. 

“Rafael Joseph Cameron! Language!” 

Ward spoke Rafe’s full name, his tone laced with warning. 

“What dad?! You can’t let him talk about her like that!” 

He said, exasperatedly. 

“Ward, it’s really okay. He deserves to be bitched at.” 

Your mother spoke, sticking up for Rafe. 

“She’s a type one diabetic, not a fucking drug addict and i’ll be damned if I let you sit here and treat her like one.” 

At Rafe’s words the table fell silent. His father knew what the weight of his words carried, and now, so did you. Luckily for you, Rose served you your food first after the meal was done cooking and your sugar quickly went back up to normal levels, which was a giant relief to Rafe. Most of the dinner was silent after the conversation fizzled out. The words of your father affected you more than you cared to admit, yet not as much as Rafe’s. Rafe stood up for you in a room with two men that scared the shit out of you, all without batting an eye or worrying about a consequence. He stood up to his father for you and you knew you couldn’t just let that go. The conversations quickly became about business and Rafe watched as you mentally checked out, which probed his next question to you.

“Why don’t we go out to the dock, sweet girl?” 

You simply nodded in response, thankful to him for saving you from listening to your brother’s bullshit business plans any longer. Rafe helped you out of your chair and pushed it in behind you, leading you out the patio doors with his large hand placed on the small of your back. You quickly made your way to the dock on the other side of the cool grass, taking your shoes off and plunging your feet in as you sat on the edge of where the wood met the water. 

“You okay?” 

He asked, his cerulean eyes taking in your form. 

“Yeah, I am. Thank you for sticking up for me in there.” 

You gave him your best smile, even though he could see right through it. 

“How long has he been treating you that way?” 

“Since the day I came home from the hospital.” 

You whispered, but Rafe heard you, loud and clear. 

“Can you tell me about it? I mean, what happened when you got sick.” 

You swallowed thickly. Talking about your illness was easy but talking about it with Rafe was just different. He wasn’t there when you got sick and you resented him for it, but you also resented yourself for not giving him the opportunity to be. 

“It happened the Thursday after we stopped talking. I was with Topper, we were at the club, just swinging some golf balls and dicking around. He was with me everyday that week just to make sure I was handling things well and I wasn’t, so I’m glad I had him.” 

You said, with no particular emotion. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He whispered out, hanging his head in shame. 

“You don’t have to apologize Rafe, I’m not here to make you feel guilty. I just-, if I’m gonna tell you what happened, I have to tell the whole story.” 

You replied, trying to reassure him. 

“I know and I want to know everything.” 

He stated with a sheepish smile, nodding his head for you to continue. 

“I told Top I wasn’t feeling good that morning, but I thought it was just because I was hungover and when we went to play golf, I figured I’d be fine. But when we got to the third hole, I noticed that I was kinda nauseous and dizzy and my hands were shaking. I heard Top ask if I was okay before I hit the ground but I couldn’t register anything. Evidently he had called an ambulance because I woke up in the ICU three days later. They said I had a seizure and went into diabetic shock, which is when we found out I had type one.” 

You finished with a swirl of anxiety in your belly. 

“As much as it pains me to say this, I’m thankful you had Top.” 

Rafe smiled into his joke. His distaste for the closeness Topper shared with you had always been prevalent, but especially after the two of you had gone your separate ways. 

“Yeah, the funny thing is, I laid in that hospital bed for days willing myself to call you but I couldn’t do it.” 

You said suddenly. 

“I wish you would have.” 

Your eyes flickered up to meet his immediately. 

“I couldn’t do that to you. You decided you wanted a life without me in it and I respected that even if I didn’t understand it. I never wanted me being sick to be the reason you came back, I wanted you to come back because you wanted to. But it hurt like hell that I had to walk through that without you.” 

Rafe quickly pulled you in and wrapped his large hand around the back of your head, pooling your hair in his hands. He hugged you tightly and suddenly it felt like all the broken pieces of your heart had been mended. 

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl. Please, forgive me.” 

His voice broke as the words stumbled out of his mouth. He felt like there was no air in his lungs and all he knew was that he needed your forgiveness like he needed to breathe. He pulled back, holding you by your shoulders, looking to your eyes for confirmation of the hatred he was sure you felt for him, yet he couldn’t find it. 

“I forgave you a long time ago, Rafael.” 

You spoke softly, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster up. 

“Y/N, I need you to know that I’m never going to leave you again.” 

He said so sure – more sure of anything than he has ever been in his entire life. 

“I appreciate that Rafe and I hope it’s true. It’s just so hard for me to trust that.” 

You replied candidly. 

“I know and I’m going to work everyday to prove to you that you can trust me.” 

He responded, willing to do anything to prove that to you. 

“I hope you do.” 

He nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed. 

“So, uh, where’d you learn to kiss like that?” 

He asked, sheepishly, as he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck - one of his many nervous habits. His voice came out small and awkward and it made you laugh. 

“I don’t know, Cameron. Where did you learn to kiss like that?” 

Your eyes met, as you nudged his shoulder, which made him smile. 

“Lots of practice.” 

He replied and you visibly winced at the words that you had spoken to him earlier. You have a reputation with girls, okay? The hurt that laced his irises when the words left your lips would haunt you forever. 

“Hey, listen, about what I said earlier-” 

You began, but didn’t get to finish. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” 

He replied, his head hanging low. You gently lifted his chin, so his eyes met yours.

“You didn’t, not from me.” 

You said, very matter-of-factly. 

“What do you mean?” 

He asked, scrunching his eyebrows together. 

“I mean, I’ve always been your person – the one you tell anything to. It isn’t fair of me to project my shit onto you, so I’m sorry. That’s not what I think of you, Rafe and I need you to know that. I just got scared.” 

You replied, laying your heart directly in his hands. 

“Why are you so scared, sweet girl?” 

He wasn’t trying to pry, he just genuinely didn’t understand what you had to be afraid of, surely it wasn’t him. 

“I just-, I went through some things with JJ.” 

He nodded, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together in his brain.

“I see. You know you can talk to me, right? I mean – if you want to tell me, ya know, I’m the guy you tell.” 

He replied, assurance laced in his blue orbs. 

“Yeah, I do and I will when I’m ready.” 

He nodded, taking your answer as gospel. He knew you’d tell him when you were ready. He quickly changed the subject.

“What days are you working this week?” 

He questioned. 

“Uh-, Tomorrow, Wednesday, and Friday. Why?” 

You asked, confused. 

“Is it okay if I come see you?” 

He questioned, voice sheepish, unable to make eye contact with you in fear of your rejection. That’s what all this has been about to begin with hasn’t it – the years away from you, the fear that he just wasn’t enough. 

“You can always come see me. But, why do you want to hang out at the club?” 

You smiled in his direction, noting how respectful it was for him not to just show up. 

“I am a member, you know?” 

He joked and flush filled your cheeks. Bold of you to assume he'd be there for you, you thought. He must have noticed the change in your demeanor, because he grabbed your hand and lifted your chin. 

“I want to spend time with you, silly girl and I can only gain your trust by spending all the time I can with you.” 

You smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Rafe. That’s sweet.” 

You looked in his eyes, thanking him for more than just his sweet words and he had no idea. 

-

You walked into the club at 4pm the next day, spotting Rafe immediately as he sat at the bar, waiting for your inevitable arrival. You were shocked to see him, even though he said he’d come. Truth be told, you hadn’t taken most of what Rafe Cameron said seriously in the last few years, but him showing up meant something to you. It meant more to you than you cared to admit.  After you clocked in and made your way behind the bar, your eyes met his. 

“Well, hey pretty girl.” 

He flashed you that Rafe Cameron smile and it was over. You were done for. 

“Hello, Rafael, to what do I owe this pleasure?” 

You said, smiling back at him. 

“Just wanted to hang out with my girl, that’s all.” 

He replied cheekily. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“She’s working.” 

You retorted, a fun-loving tone soaking your tongue, dispersing from him to check on your tables. You glanced his way a few times, only to be met with eyes studying your form. Your co-worker Emily made her way over to you, noticing his gaze. 

“So, why is Rafe Cameron being a creepy stalker and staring you down like a serial killer?” 

You chuckled, Emily or Em as she was known by her friends, had quite the knack for being dramatic. 

“Em, he is not a serial killer or creepy!” 

You yelped, rolling your eyes at her. 

“Whatever you say, angel. But, I better not see your face on the side of a milk carton any time soon.” 

You jokingly rolled your eyes at her and made your way back to the bar. You wanted to chat with Rafe for a bit while the club was slow, but he was heading out for the night and that stung a little. As he gathered his wallet and keys in his hands, you snuck up behind him, placing your arm at the small of his back. 

“You just gonna leave with no goodbye?” 

You smiled up at him, secretly hoping that wasn’t his intention. His face lit up at the sight of your smiling face beaming up at him and he relished in the feeling of your hand on his back, touching him like this. 

“No way, pretty girl. Never. Dad called and needed me home, something with Sarah.” 

He responded. 

“Okay. Well, be careful.” 

You replied. 

“Always am. You call if you need me to take you home, okay?” 

He asks, but it’s not a question. 

“Okay, Rafael. Be good.” 

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand before letting him go and watching him walk out the front door. The rest of the night drug by, Sundays were usually very busy with Kildare residents playing golf while heavily intoxicated, but most of the traffic died down around dinner time. It was your night to close so you were by yourself after Emily went home at 4 and that meant blasting Taylor Swift while you started closing the club down for the night. You wiped the tables down first, belting out the lyrics to your favorite Taylor song to date I Almost Do. You could remember it having a different meaning when you and Rafe had parted ways, singing it at the top of your lungs in your bedroom, willing yourself to pick up the phone and call him. Now, the words didn’t sting as much and instead, you just wanted to feel his warmth. It was no longer the song of your heart, now it was just another song. Those feelings seemed so far away and you couldn’t help but feel thankful. You were brought out of your thoughts by none other than JJ Maybank busting through the front door of the club and you knew this could only mean disaster. You locked eyes with him and that devilish smirk that he somehow always sported sent chills down your spine. 

“Miss me, angel?” 

He questioned, hiss in his tone. You ignored him, which you knew better than to do. You knew what it would do to him. You knew it drove him absolutely insane, but you did it anyway because it felt good. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” 

His yell echoed through the building and the fear that you remembered so well returned. 

“What, JJ? What do you want?” 

You scoffed. 

“I want your attention, honey.” 

He spoke softer now and you couldn’t help but think wow, what a psycho. 

“Sorry, you’ve lost that privilege.” 

“I haven’t lost anything, darling. Don’t forget who you belong to.” 

His sneer was sinister and you knew what he meant, what he was capable of. As he walked out of the door, tears filled your vision. You wanted so badly to call Rafe but you knew it would only mean disaster. He couldn’t know everything, yet. So, instead you finished closing the club and went home. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

as always, if you'd like to be tagged please let me know <3

[pocketmania]

[☎👽💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩]   Nikku x Fem Reader

Heyy! 🏳‍🌈Anon here! I'm not over about the grandfest that ended on sunday haha- I WANT IT BACK

NINTENDO PLEASE 🙏

Anyways- like what my last request said about me mostly requesting for hotline 024/sunset hills. Could I request Nikku having a gf who LOVES showering her with affection? Like Nikku could not go for one day without being kissed or hugged or you name it, literally any other affection out there.

Besides giving Nikku a bunch of affection, girl has a bunch of sweet names that she would call Nikku, no matter how stupid the names are, she does it with no shame cause she just showing Nikku and everyone around them on how much she loves her.

I REALLY loved the last post! And I agree with you when you said that hotline 024 should have attention just so people could write stuff for it. I been over here starving to death cause there's NOTHING 😭

Aaaaa hello 🏳️‍🌈 anon! UGGGHH YES GRANDFEST PLEASE COME BACK TO ME PLEASE I'M STILL NOT READY DIDIAKAAAA

Also same ugh please everyone go play hotline NOW‼️

anyways, of course you can request that! nikku honestly needs a fucking hug and 83.8 sessions of therapy from what she's gone through 😭

Also, I'm gonna try a new type of thing with my scenarios and overall formatting, if that's okay!

now onto the thingy

‎‧₊˚✧[ Nikku w/ an

Affectionate!

Reader ]✧˚₊‧

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

(☎️👽💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩) - sunset hills headcanons + small scenario

(reader type) - feminine / AFAB

(‼️warnings) - none

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

- - - - - - -

♨ Nikku could not walk through a door without getting pounced on by you

♨ it was so much of a habit that she learned exactly what time it was that you'd jump to hug her so she could catch you

♨ so that encouraged you to start mixing things up a little

♨ Now you do it ALL the time

♨ You also don't just hug her anymore

♨ You smooch, make out, hug (from the front and behind!) cuddle, snuggle, EVERYTHING

♨ Nikku's never spotted without you at this point

♨ You also started making and getting her gifts (to which nikku begs you to stop spending money on someone like her)

♨ why, just last week, you got her a box of empanadas as a treat

♨ the week before that, you got her a new long-sleeve with a "24" on it (that she now wears all the time)

♨ and today you plan on giving her a new CD of a band you know she likes

♨ You also CANNOT stop complimenting her

♨ You always find something new to say about her

♨ oh and don't even get me STARTED on the nicknames

♨ lemme set the scene for this..

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Tonight, you and your girlfriend were out with some friends. Skarlet, Cassette Girl, and Jasmine, to be specific. Right now, you were out getting food from a food truck.

As you boogied to the table you and your friends were going to eat at, food in hand, you suddenly had an idea.

Recently, you started calling Nikku a plethora of pet names, no matter how cringy or oogey-gooey they were. So, you thought right now would be a good time to use them again.

Once you got within earshot of the table, you blurted out, "Nikkkyy, my precious love-of-my-life cutie-patootie butter-honey pookie princess! I have the food~♪!" You got to the table and saw that Nikku was dying of embarrassment with her hands covering her face as the others giggled about the goofy nicknames. Skarlet gave Nikku a nudge.

"Pookie Princess, huh?"

"Shut it, bitch-bunny."

C.G. grinned and rested her chin on her palm. "Whatever you say, 'butter-honey'."

You felt accomplished; you knew you'd done your job right. You sat next to her and latched onto her, smothering her as you ate your food.

- - - - - - -

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[handicappedbuenchico]

Have a thought I had based on listening to Monster by Meg and Dia (funnily enough) and thinking about some of the horror games we got in the late 2010s like D.D.L.C and F.N.A.F World. I feel like I also have to give a spoiler warning for D.D.L.C so this is that spoiler warning! So, you know how those games I mentioned toyed with the idea of one or more characters being so sentient or self-aware that they actively interact with the player or even manipulate the game itself in some way? For example, when Monika literally learns how to manipulate the game code and at one point deletes Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki from the game files so she could have you all to herself because she wasn't given a romantic ending of her own originally. Oh, she also made Yuri and Sayori kill themselves (due to making Yuri a yandere and having Sayori's depression ramp up exponentially) along with making Natsuki become an unrecognizable glitched out mess before she deleted them too 🫢.

So, my thought is this concept being applied to a slasher film. I already know that you're thinking, and no I'm not talking about "self-aware" movies like S.cream, where the characters are actually only slightly more genre savvy than most horror movie characters, and the characters themselves aren't really THAT self-aware when you think about it. The characters in movies like S.cream still ACT like typical horror movie characters at the end of the day. They don't really gain any real sentience or self-awareness and they don't really interact with the audience or try to tamper with the movie in any way like what I'm referring to. S.cream stans please don't come for me, I literally had to look up the difference between true self-awareness and being genre savvy to make this point and I didn't mean to single it out specifically, it was the first film that came to mind when thinking about self-aware type horror movies. No, what I'm talking about is the victims or other characters of the movie having true self-awareness to know that they're the victims and they've been repeating their cycle of being killed over and over again due to the viewer repeatedly watching their favorite horror movie or horror franchise of choice; then doing things like breaking the fourth wall to try and convince the viewer to try and help them in some way (like turning the movie off, rewinding or forwarding to specific parts so the characters can try and "change the script" so to speak, etc.). So, in essence the characters of the film aren't only fighting for their lives against the actual person trying to kill them, but they also try to change the script and control the movie itself so it can work in their favor, along with begging and pleading for the viewer's help/sympathy/mercy to help them survive their encounters before their life clock runs out.

Also imagine the characters fully looking at you before they finally die and BLAMING YOU for their deaths, instead of the actual slasher that killed them because you either chose to do nothing in helping them and watched the movie as intended or there really was NOTHING you could do to help them no matter how much the characters changed things around. Like imagine how fucking freaky that would be. I know that this concept would be VERY difficult, and dare I say damn near IMPOSSIBLE, to fully adapt in a movie format or hell ANY format that's not a VN, or a video game, or even one of those "choose your own adventure" YouTube videos. But it's still a fun concept that I would have personally loved to see in a movie.

[noire-queen]

Hydrangea - a Captive Prince fanfiction

Hey @not-into-frying-pans! I know you had lost hope, but here I am: your captive prince secret santa! Amazing, right?  With gift, no less! Jk. I hope you enjoy the story, and I hope it fits what you wanted. I would’ve said Happy Christmas, but it’s more of a happy-end-of-January situation here. That said, I really hope you enjoy it! For reference, these are hydrangea flowers:

Picture has been taken from here Also, thanks to @helaris for kicking my butt on a daily basis and to @a-kielon for beta-reading this.

The story is under the cut. Or, if you rather read it on ao3, here it is: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9531131

Laurent had been born on a stormy spring night. He’d made Auguste smile, so, on his way out of the hospital, Damen had picked some flowers from the blue hydrangea bushes in front of the door. “For Laurent,” he’d told Auguste, his expression serious. Auguste had taken the flowers in his chubby hands and nodded. “I’ll give them to him. He can’t appreciate them yet, but someday he will. College/University AU

Hydrangea Laurent had been born on a stormy spring night. Hennike and Aleron had shown up on Egeria and Theomedes’s doorstep just after midnight, and when they’d left Auguste had been lying in Damen’s bed, turning nervously around and around. "When my baby brother is born, you have to teach him how to be a good little brother,” he’d said. Damen had nodded. “I will.” “And I have to be a good big brother. I’ll be the best big brother.” “Better than Kastor?” “I’ll be better than any other big brother, you’ll see.” They’d hooked their pinkies in a promise, and that’s how Aleron had found them, blissfully unaware of the wind howling outside, when he’d come to pick them up. It had been raining when they’d knocked on Hennike’s door, lightning cracking the sky open when Auguste’s brother had stared right at Damen, his eyes blue like his brother’s, only clearer, his lashes fluttering to the beat of the drops against the glass of the window. That was the first time Damen had been so close to something, someone that hadn’t been before and that today was, as if he had appeared by magic.

By magic he’d made Auguste smile, by magic he’d made Hennike and Aleron calm and tired and quiet while they’d been hugging each other. So, on his way out, Damen had picked some wet flowers from the blue hydrangea bushes in front of the hospital’s door. “For Laurent,” he’d told Auguste, his expression serious. Auguste had taken the flowers in his chubby hands and nodded. “I’ll give them to him. He can’t appreciate them yet, but someday he will.”

So Damen had kept bringing them, always bringing a different flower that, time and time again, would go to Hennike because Laurent was still too small to appreciate it.

Eventually, he’d stopped. And it would be a long time before he started again.

18 years later, February

Visiting Auguste’s flat had always been similar and different to visiting him when he’d been living home

Different because while Hennike used to make him keep his room tidy, now there were clothes Damen was sure Auguste had worn last week abandoned on the kitchen chair. Just like before, though, you could find Laurent sitting on the couch with his legs folded under him, quietly reading while Auguste was nowhere to be seen. Damen figured that if he was going through with this, and he was going through with this, then he’d be seeing a lot more of Auguste’s brother from now on.

“Where can I put this?” Damen asked, jerking his chin towards the box he was holding.

Laurent didn’t lift his eyes from his book. “Auguste said to wait for him.” He briefly glanced at his watch. “But that was two hours ago, so I suggest you just leave it here somewhere,” he said, waving his hand in the air with nonchalance. “Is it fine here?” Laurent lifted his eyes very briefly from his book. “Whatever. Do as if it were your home.” Damen snorted at that. “Don’t worry, kid. I will.” Laurent unfolded from his position, stretching his legs in front of him and leaning his right foot on the opposite knee. He didn’t answer, though.

Damen dropped the box next to the couch, then picked up one of Auguste’s jackets that had somehow gotten under it and hung it on the coat rack.

“You better stop doing that.” “Pardon?” “Leave him his clutter. Hell, let him die in his clutter if he so wishes.” Then the silence came back. It lingered until the key turned in the lock and Auguste walked through the door. “Sorry, I’m late,” Auguste said from the doorway.

“Don’t worry, you always are.” Laurent’s voice was cool, but Auguste just smiled. “You’re right. I always am,” he replied, then he put another big crate right next to where Damen had put his. It had been closed with paper tape, Damen written on it in familiar, neat handwriting. “She said Kastor told her. I thought it would be better if–” Damen nodded. “Yeah. It is. Thank you.” He averted his gaze from his name, hands going up to massage his temples while Jokaste’s words repeated themselves again and again in his mind. “It’s the way things are, Damen. People fall in love and–I’ve loved you so much. And I still do bu–”

The noise of Laurent turning a page rose in the atmosphere, and then he was brought back to the reality of Auguste’s tastefully furnished living room, only Auguste wasn’t in front of him anymore.

It was just him and Laurent. “It’s not your loss.” Another page turned.

“Pardon me?” “I said–” Laurent’s voice lowered. “It’s not your loss.” He put the book down, stretched his arms in front of him in that boyish way he had. “If you don’t get your shit together, though, it won’t be her loss, either.” Damen blinked once. Twice. Then started laughing. “Thanks, kiddo.” Laurent’s eyes narrowed at that. “No, really. Thanks,” Damen repeated.

Laurent shrugged.

When Damen had accepted to move in with Auguste he’d been aware that Auguste came with Laurent. What he hadn’t taken into account was that Laurent came with Nicaise, and that today youths had no respect for sleep or relax whatsoever if they thought that 10 am on a Sunday was a reasonable hour to start studying. Damen hadn’t even known 10 am existed on Sundays.

He turned around, trying to go back to sleep as the chattering went on in the living room, trying to find once more that place where his muscles would start relaxing, his breath slowing. He’d been just there, on the brink of it, waiting for sleep to pull him under when Nicaise’s high pitched voice jerked him back to awareness. Whatever Nicaise said, Laurent’s answer came in that smooth, clear voice of his that reminded him of the honey covered lemons his mother would make them after every football game.

It was a nice voice, more melodic than either Aleron’s or Auguste’s.

It would’ve been a good singing voice.

Jokaste has a good singing voice, too.

And that, Damen knew, was his cue to get up.

Laurent and Nicaise had taken up most of the living room. Laurent had curled up on the couch, his textbook in his lap and a highlighter in his palm, Nicaise was half draped over the main table, his arms crossed on the tabletop, his face buried underneath them.

“Kids,” Damen started, “no offense but don’t you guys have a life?”

Laurent snorted from the couch while Nicaise flipped him off.

“Don’t you have a shirt?! Seriously, Damianos, you’re going to give Laurent a heart attack.” “Ah, I see. Trouble with schoolwork?” “Go get dressed and shut up, will you?” Nicaise exclaimed. Damen shrugged. “Coffee first, bitching later,” he said, ruffling Nicaise’s hair on his way to the kitchen. “You guys want any?” Nicaise made a gagging sound, so Damen turned around and nodded at Laurent. “You?” Laurent lifted a hand, putting a strand of blond hair behind his ear and then rested his hand against his throat. It had, before then, never occurred to Damen how slender Laurent’s throat was. Long, and delicate, as if it were to fit better a statue than a person. Then again, statues didn’t flush, Damen thought, while a blush that didn’t quite manage to be darker than pink climbed all the way to Laurent’s cheekbones.

He saw Laurent’s adam’s apple bobble when he swallowed.

“Yes, please,” he said. His voice calm and cool, his face expressionless as he went back to taking notes. Damen nodded, turned towards the coffee maker, set everything up and waited as the coffee dripped into the carafe, its aroma filling the air, mixing with the scent of her skin in his mind, clean and hot, and that of all the mornings they’d spent in bed, making the coffee go cold. When she’d left him, he hadn’t know anything about making coffee. Now, though, even if it wasn’t as fantastic as hers had been, it wasn’t too bad either.

“I’ll take the blue cup.” “He’ll take the blue cup,” Nicaise repeated, ripping the page away and throwing it at Laurent. Laurent dodged it. Damen watched them with a smile then went to pour the coffee. He was about to bring it to Laurent when something occurred to him. “Two spoons of sugar, a little milk,” came the cool voice before he could say anything. Damen nodded. “I don’t know why I was under the impression you drank it bitter.” “So do my parents. I think it’s because I hang out with him.” Nicaise’s pen flew across the room, missing Laurent by thirty centimeters or so. “But people assume I like bitter things in general.”

Damen snorted, making his way towards the couch. “That must be it,” Damen said, winking at him. When Laurent took the mug from Damen’s hands, the blush had yet to fade. Damen liked to think that it was the same blush that lingered on his cheekbones the next sunday. And the one after it. And every time Damen would pass him, without no more than a nod, a blue cup with two spoons of sugar and a little milk in his hands.

March

“Your brother is pretty.”

It had slipped out. They’d been at Hennike and Aleron’s place, washing the dishes, the pink roses he’d gotten Hennike for her birthday blushing under the kitchen lights, their color reminding Damen of Laurent’s skin. The way it flushed with the steam of tea or coffee, too pale to really turn red.

“What?” The dish Auguste had been holding fell back into the foamy water, the splash making some drops reach them. “First of all, my brother isn’t pretty,” Auguste said. Then he clarified: “Nicaise is pretty, my brother is gorgeous.” He huffed. “Second of all, no. Damen, he’s too young for you.”

“Calm down. I was just thinking.”

“Well, don’t think about my brother!” “You are aware he’s an adult, aren’t you?” “Hands off.” And then Auguste was frowning, pointing a wet finger at him. “Also, I think you scare him.” “What?” Auguste shrugged. “He is usually very quiet. Around you, more so. Maybe it’s the whole–” he gestured his hand at Damen, encompassing his entire body with the movement. “–man-beast thing you’ve got going on.” Damen shoved him on the shoulder and Auguste answered in kind, then went to dip his hands in the dirty water. Damen had known Auguste long enough to know that he wouldn’t hesitate and would, in fact, splash him with dirty soap water. So, being the firm believer in quitting while you were ahead and knowing how and when to pick your battles, he ran straight to the stairs that led to the upstairs living room, leaving Auguste to curse him and finish the dishes on his own. Oh well, Hennike would’ve had both their heads anyways if they’d ruined their shirts.

The upstairs living room was the place in the De Vere house Damen was the most familiar with. He, Auguste, and Laurent had spent almost every rainy afternoon of their childhood in it, sprawled on the soft blue rug, playing with the legos and making puzzles so that quiet, shy Laurent could play along rather than watch from behind Auguste. There had been minor changes through the years; now there were pictures of the three of them hanging on the wall and on the cabinets, and the curtains were different, but there was the same once-forbidden cookie jar, now full with dried flowers, sitting on the top of the armoire, and the same old couch with its same favourite occupant in exactly the same spot.

“Do you do anything else despite reading on couches?” “I read on chairs.” “And besides that?” “I am an accomplished reader in beds, too. Were they to turn it into a sport, I’d sure be one of the top contenders.” He paused. Then: “Why? Does it bother you?” Damen shrugged. “Are you afraid of me?” Laurent cocked an eyebrow. “Of you?” “Yep.” “Damen, I have known you my whole life.” Damen shrugged. “Blame your brother. He said you’re quieter around me than around others.”

“We really don’t have much in common.” Laurent shifted uncomfortably, crossed his feet at the ankles and pulled his knees towards his chest. “I don’t know.” Damen shrugged. Laurent narrowed his eyebrows, puzzled. Damen went on: “It’s stupid, I know. But–” He frowned “ you can’t be sure of that. I–You don’t know.”

Laurent looked up at him. “That’s my point.” Damen shrugged. “Well, I don’t like reading as much as you do. I can’t focus and it makes me sleepy. But besides that–” “Ah, yes. I’m sure your professor is thrilled,” Laurent said, then he lowered his voice to mimic Damen’s deep one, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Excuse me, sir. I couldn’t finish the chapter because reading makes me sleepy.” Damen frowned. “Why are you so on my case about university?” Laurent shrugged. “It was… very unlike you.” His voice had returned to its normal pitch, but it had a serious tone. Damen sighed. “I know. It's–I know.” And then there was only the slight pitter patter of rain on the rooftop, the droplets sliding down the glass of the windows. Damen stared at the pictures, at the younger versions of themselves gazing back at him from within the frames. What would they think of the people we have become? Absentmindedly, he picked up the book Laurent had left on the couch.

“It’s not about the action of reading,” Laurent said. “I was just teasing.” “I know. But–It’s about the story. It’s about discovering. And getting to know more.”

Damen smiled, thumbing through the pages of the book in his hand. Then he lifted his gaze “You? Being curious? You don’t say.”

“Oh, shut up,” Laurent groaned. “You’re like a cat,” Damen said, poking him in the leg with the corner of the novel. Laurent slapped it away. A smirk. “That’s false.” A snort. “Like hell it is.” “Nuh-uh.” Damen pointed at the old cookie jar. “That’s why you knew how to get the cookies, right?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Maybe nosy would be a better word for it, actually.” Then: “Admit it, I know stuff about you.” Laurent rolled his eyes, still curled up in his corner of the couch, the tension leaving his shoulders as he made himself comfortable. “I concede. Do I get no credit at all?” “I think you should try to go to college. It’s want you want. You’re smart, so what’s stopping you?.” “I’ve loved you so much, and I still do. But–it’s not the right time. It’s not the right kind of love to keep us together. I’m sorry.” “Mom, I can’t make it. I don’t think I can anymore. What? No, it’s not because of her.”

“You’ve won your house a hundred points,” Damen said. Maybe a thousand, he didn’t know. “It’s not like me to give up, isn’t it?” Laurent shook his head. “Not at all.”

The day after, he woke up with the feeling of Laurent’s skin still etched into his skin. Not at all, Laurent had said, not at all. Then he’d gone quiet. So Damen had said “I think your mother wouldn’t appreciate it if you were late to cut the cake.” And he’d extended his hand. Laurent had stared at it. “Come on, stand up,” Damen had said. And it was with a slightly trembling hand that Laurent had grabbed his, unfolding and letting himself be pulled to his feet by Damen. “By the way,” Damen had said, “I like dogs better than cats, your brother makes fun of me because I keep putting his things in the washing machine every time I find something out of its place, and,–” He’d made eye contact. “–I actually do like bitter things.”

The smoothness of Laurent’s skin, the fine bones of his fingers, his lashes fluttering in puzzlement had been novel. Endearing.

“I see.” Laurent had said, pulling his hand away from his. Then, remembering that first conversation when Damen had arrived, he said: “You’re not very good at doing what you’re told, either, are you?” Damen had shaken his head. “Nope. He’s not going to die in his clutter while he’s with me.”

There was a sharp knock and then the door to Damen’s bedroom was pushed open. Auguste made his way to the bed, shaking a small box wrapped with pretty paper between his hands. “Open it,” he said, letting himself drop down on the mattress. “Come on, open it.”

So Damen did, a feeling of uneasiness rising within him as he looked at Auguste biting his thumb nail, waiting on Damen. “Say,” Damen began, looking at a second box, wrapped in a beautiful paper just like the first one had been, which had fallen out of the previous one. “Who is this present from?”

Auguste didn’t answer. Damen had to unwrap two more boxes before coming to hold a small, light blue mp3 player. It took him a moment, once he’d turned it on, to recognize the tracks. The note just read: My favourite colour is blue – L

“Why did my brother give you an mp3 player?” Auguste asked. “Oh well, you know,” Damen said, fishing out his cell phone from his pocket. He quickly typed in a message and pressed enter. blue? no way. red is better. thank you. “It really is quite like him to gift an entire library, isn’t it?” Laurent texted him back a moment later. Wouldn’t want you to fall asleep, would we?

April

The audiobooks Laurent had put on the mp3 player were mostly his course books and study material in general, but there were also four novels. Since Laurent’s text they had been keeping an ongoing exchange of small facts about themselves.

From Damen: I hate cauliflower, I really like the colour grey From Laurent: Yes, because it’s as dull as your personality From Damen: I’d really appreciate it if you were to fuck off From Laurent: Got nobody to fuck off with, will keep you updated From Damen: Is the spot open?

From Lauren: I really like the quiet late at night, it allows me to think From Damen: Don’t you think too much already? From Laurent: Better too much than too little; thank you for telling me

The last one from Lauren read: I’d really like to know your opinions on the novels

Damen got started on la Dame Gentile on a thursday while driving from university to the gym, and kept listening to it during dinner. When Laurent came by the day afterwards, he was almost done with it. “I knew you’d liked it,” Laurent said, his arms crossed and his teeth worrying his bottom lip–full, dry from the cold but not yet chapped–out of habit. “How did you know?” The more Laurent worried his lips, the redder they got. It made Damen want to reach forward, take his chin between his thumb and forefinger and pull him towards him, press their mouths together. Were his lips soft? They certainly looked it.

But then the teeth released the lip, and Laurent’s eyebrow went up. “Duels and war campaigns and honour? ”

And Damen thought back to the roman soldiers figurines he’d had as a child, and how he and Auguste would build entire armies with them. He laughed.

“True. Do you like it, too?” Laurent scrunched up his nose. “It’s more your style.” Damen nodded, then went to get the coffee in the kitchen. “Which of the ones you’ve put on there is your favourite?” Laurent’s eyes widened minutely and glimmered under the light. “Why don’t you try and guess?” he said in the most honeyed tone Damen had ever heard and immediately realized he was being made fun of. He passed Laurent the blue cup, their fingers touching as the cup went from one hand to the other. “Don’t think I can do it, do you?” Damen asked. Laurent lifted his cup, as if in a toast. “You’ll see,” Damen said. And then: “By the way. Red suits you very well.”   Laurent blushed at that, then tipped his head back. His blue eyes met Damen’s brown ones, and there was a lazy smirk on his lips. “You think so?” Damen’s breath caught in his throat, and he became unable and unwilling to shift his gaze away. In the back of his mind, he could hear Auguste screaming. Lord knows he was in trouble. May

The more the exams session neared, the heavier the small mp3 player seemed to grow in his pocket. Damen had tried listening to them once, and he’d gotten the feeling that it was much like being in class, with the added bonus that he could stand up while listening as well as follow along with his hands and no one would nag him for it. I see, Jokaste had said when she’d seen him trying to study by gesturing more with his hands than speaking with his mouth. You’re a kinesthetic learner. Then she’d went and taught him how to study best and how to keep track of informations with his hands.

In the end, he thought, it had been that which had broken him. Every time he’d sat down and tried to understand what was written on his book, keeping track with his hands, beating to a tune with his foot to associate sound and knowledge, he’d seen her trying to teach him, gentle and soft and laughing and witty. Eventually, he ended up leaning over his books, with his face in his hands and tears waiting to roll down his face. After she’d left him, he’d screwed up his session. When lectures had started up again, he hadn’t attended them, only barely handing in the assignments. He might as well not have handed them in at all. It was as if It was her idea. I used to do this for her had been written on every one of them.

Now, sitting cross legged on the floor, he took his mp3 player in hand. It’s what you want, so what’s stopping you?

It was a memory, only somehow the voice was morphed, lowered, turned masculine and smooth, and just the slightest bit breathless. It’s just–it isn’t like you.

So he took a deep breath, grabbed his notebook, and pressed play.

“So, have you found out?”

The sushi place was full, and had Nicaise not been working there for the past semester and holding a grudge against the owner, they wouldn’t have gotten a table. As it was, Nicaise couldn’t have cared less about “that asshole and his policies”, and they’d skipped the line and gotten a table anyway. Admittedly, Damen didn’t know if it was for the best. He was pretty sure running two flights of stairs just to catch up with a blond head that might or might not have been Laurent had been a pretty bad plan in the first place; keeping on staring at him instead of looking at the menu was an even worse one. Only he couldn’t help it.

“I thought you quit wearing glasses when you were, like, sixteen,” Damen commented casually. "And I thought you knew that contact lenses exist, but what can I say–” Laurent put his menu down on the tabletop and placed his hands neatly over it.“–we live and we learn.”

“So”, Laurent said after a moment, drumming his fingers on the menu. “ What’s your guess? It’s not like there’s that many books to choose from.” “My answer isn’t ready yet,” Damen said, watching puzzlement change the set of Laurent’s lips. “It’s not a test, you know.” “With you, everything is.” Laurent arched an eyebrow, and Damen went on: “I’m getting the feeling you’re trying to understand something.” “Is that so,” Laurent said, his voice low, his black rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. “And what test would it be?” The place was loud and hot, and chatter could be heard from the other tables around them. At the front, the line was growing longer and the waiters were having trouble getting to the tables. So, the first thing Damen thought was Don’t, you’ll scare him. The second was He can’t run away, anyway. Which really didn’t justify why he still opened his mouth. “About how well I know you. About how well I’m getting to know you. And I want to pass with flying colours.” He saw the way Laurent’s shoulders stiffened, saw the heaving of his chest under the night blue shirt quicken as his breathing became faster, saw his eyes go wide and the bridge of his nose turn pink. His plan had been to cover Laurent’s hand with his, but just before they touched he moved it, putting it on the table just so that his thumb was touching Laurent’s skin by slightly overlapping his wrist, pressing the pad of his thumb ever so slightly against his slender bone.

“You don’t think you could pass it now?”

Damen shook his head, gently brushing his thumb over Laurent’s wrist, just as if he were made of air and the slightest pressure would have him skittering away and dissolving under his touch. “I think that if I had no chance, you would have already told me by now.” Laurent raised his eyebrow, his eyes darker than usual, clouded, his pupils slightly dilated; they looked a lot like the blue hydrangea flowers he’d picked up for him more than eighteen years ago.

It was Laurent who pulled away first, his eyes never leaving Damen’s while he slid his hand away from Damen’s touch. He leaned against the back of his chair, holding his wrist where Damen’s thumb had just been. “So.” Damen cleared his throat. “Do you have classes later?” Someone huffed impatiently next to Damen and then he felt the edge of a clipboard being tapped against his shoulder. “Are you ready to order?” Nicaise asked. Laurent nodded, then gave his order. Damen was about to give his when he felt a foot timidly pressing against his. He couldn’t help but grin at Laurent, stalling in giving his order just enough for Nicaise to roll his eyes. “Oh my God, I don’t have the whole day.” Damen stopped himself again only to see Nicaise’s lips rise in a smirk. “You’ve been staring at Mister Marigold over here, haven’t you? Do you even know what we offer?” Damen felt himself flush. “He’ll have the same as I am having.” It was Damen’s turn to lift his eyebrow. “How do you know I’m going to like that?” he said, using his feet to trap Laurent’s foot between his. “You think you won’t?” Laurent countered. “That wasn’t the question.” “Ah, I see. Maybe you think I’m not observant enough, perhaps?” A smirk. “Like you?”

“I’m going to barf.” “Fine with me, but not anywhere near our table. I don’t want to slip when I get up. I have classes to get to,” Laurent said. Nicaise rolled his eyes and jotted something down, then made his way to the kitchen. “I think we better leave him a good tip,” said Damen, watching Nicaise leave. “What time do your classes start?” Laurent wiggled his foot, which Damen only now realized was still trapped between his. “Why are you smiling?” Laurent said. “So… I haven’t been the only one doing the staring, have I?” “The girl–” Laurent nodded to the table in the alcove on the other side of the aisle they were in “–has been picking raw fish from her plate and giving it to her partner the whole time, and he–” He nodded to the waiter rushing between one table and the other “–knows he got the order wrong and will likely give them a discount.” “If it’s your way to tell me I’m not special, I’m not falling for it,” Damen deadpanned. Laurent wiggled his foot between Damen’s again. “You’re a sharp one, aren’t you?”

Damen laughed, and held Laurent’s foot tighter between his. He laughed again when he took a sip of the green drink Nicaise had brought to their table, and said: “You do like bitter things, after all.” “I never said I didn’t. I said people always assume I do.” Damen nodded. After a while, he spoke again: “May I walk you to class?” Laurent tapped his finger against his lips, the movement rhythmic like the pendulum of a metronome, hypnotizing. “You may.”

The walk from the main building to building C–where Laurent was supposed to take his lesson–was ten minutes. Fifteen if you took the dirt road that made its way through the open-aired portion the botanical gardens, its path steadily disappearing between the reds and greens of the flowers and the vine covered pergolas with a barely visible plastic roof. Countless times, while making his way through the campus with Auguste, Damen had purposefully avoided that road–because it was Jokaste’s favorite. There were dark clouds looming over them now and the wind was whipping Laurent’s blonde hair against his cheeks, and even though Damen knew he should’ve taken the fastest road, he couldn’t be bothered to give up those five extra minutes with Laurent. He made his way to the gardens.

Four minutes into their walk, Laurent looked up to the sky just when a drop of water fell on his nose. “I’m going to kill you,” he said. Seven minutes into their walk, lightning was splitting open the sky. Nine minutes into their walk, the wind was howling around them and it was pouring, and Damen was grabbing Laurent’s hand, still not any warmer than before, and pulling him behind himself as they run to the closest pergola. It was raining so hard and Laurent’s hand in his was so soft, so delicate and slender–but not small–, the places where their skin touched so hot and threatening to get him lost that it was only the sound of rain hitting plastic that told Damen they had effectively reached shelter. He stopped abruptly and turned around, Laurent careening into his chest before he was able to stop himself. “You motherfucking–”Laurent hissed through his teeth "What in fuck’s name–” But Damen was only half listening, his arms closing around his waist, pressing him against his chest and feeling–just feeling–their hipbones touching, the rising and falling of his chest and his breath ghosting against his neck. It was dark under the pergola, the vines and clouds covering any light that might have filtered through. Still, he recognized the smell; it was heavy, mixing with Laurent’s fresh one. It was that and the adrenaline and the beating in his own chest that made him say: “Laurent?” “What?” he snapped. He was still leaning against Damen. “Would you go out with me, say, tomorrow?” Lightning lit up Laurent’s face, who was staring up at Damen, his eyes wide and flickering between Damen’s own eyes and his mouth. Damen felt his arms tighten around his middle. Thunder reverberated all around them, the sharp crack of a whip tearing open the sky covering Laurent’s words. It was a good thing, Damen thought, that they were pressed against each other or he’d never felt the nod.

“Laurent?” Damen lowered his head, his lips touching the shell of Laurent’s ear. “May I kiss you?” Lighting tore open the sky a second time, and Damen smiled as the flash of light illuminated the scenery around them. How beautiful, he thought. They were dark blue rather than indigo, soaking wet and scattered all around them, so that when Laurent ran his hands up his neck, fisted them in his hair and pulled him close, pressing their lips together, he did so among hundreds of dripping hydrangea flowers.

For the second time in his life, Damen thought Laurent must be magical.

He smiled again when their lips parted, Laurent’s mouth chasing after him, a barely audible sigh coming from his throat. “You taste bitter” Damen said, going in for another kiss. Laurent smiled against Damen’s lips, and Damen felt the flutter of his lashes against his cheek. “Ah, but I know you don’t mind.”

How beautiful, indeed.