#seniors outer

[umathurwin]

age gap discourse regarding kiarafe is hilarious because if the continent of europe found out yall were so bent out of shape over 16 and 19 we would never hear the fucking end of it 😭 yall please get it together okay it’s not exactly a grooming situation

[ds-angel1]

TEACHERS LITTLE PET

cw: SMUT(18+), teacher x student relationship, hitting it from the back(in the classroom), big age gap(ages aren´t specified), reader is a senior, i´m not american and have no idea how the school system works so please just smile and nod

wc: ~ 5.1k

a/n: tell me what you think of this dynamic and if you want more cause i have some ideas!! also this is the longest fic i´ve ever written, not my best work but atleast i managed to write something?? keep in mind i had a fever when i wrote this

Rafe had no idea how he ended up here.

Well, if he was being honest, he did. He just hated admitting it.

He hated kids. Teenagers weren’t much better. If they weren’t whining about something trivial, they were loud, obnoxious, and bursting with opinions they thought were groundbreaking. And high schoolers? They were the worst of the lot, caught in that unbearable limbo between childhood and adulthood, convinced they knew everything and that the world had been tailor-made to inconvenience them.

He hated his job, too. But after his father had all but shoved him into college, and he had somehow managed to scrape together an art history degree through a chaotic jumble of barely thought-out course selections, he needed a paycheck. He needed something, anything, to make use of the four years he had spent drowning in essays about the Renaissance and lectures on the symbolism of Baroque architecture.

And there it was, a high school history teacher.

He was fairly certain the school had been desperate. Desperate enough to hire the first applicant who could string a coherent sentence together about the American Revolution. And lucky him, that applicant had been Rafe.

The school itself was unremarkable. Small, under 400 students, just two squat brick buildings separated by a weather-beaten schoolyard that reeked of stale cigarette smoke and teenage apathy. Five hours from the Outer Banks, he could visit home whenever he wanted. Not that he did. There was nothing left for him there, nothing worth the drive, and frankly, there was nothing for him here either.

His days were a loop, a monotonous, uninspired cycle of standing in front of rows of disinterested, hormonal teenagers, rattling off lessons about long-dead historical figures far more interesting than any of his students would ever bother to realize. He graded half-assed essays, endured halfhearted excuses about missing assignments, and spent more time than he cared to admit staring at the clock, willing the hours to pass. Then, when the final bell rang, he trudged back to his apartment, a bare, impersonal space that he never bothered to decorate. No photos, no art, and no signs that anyone lived there. Just a bed, a couch, and a kitchen table that mostly went unused.

And then there were the truly miserable days, the ones where he was roped into subbing for freshman P.E., a biweekly exercise in self-inflicted torture. Half the girls refused to break a sweat, acting as if running a single lap would somehow lead to their untimely demise. The other half of the class consisted of cocky, over-competitive boys who treated dodgeball like a blood sport. He spent most of those periods standing on the sidelines, arms crossed, blowing the whistle when things got too heated, and watching the clock even more desperately than usual.

It was a dull, uninspired existence; monotonous, predictable, and entirely void of passion. He lived his life the way his students listened to the outdated documentaries he played in class: half-awake, uninterested, just going through the motions because it had to be done.

Until you walked into his class.

The first day of school after summer break always carried a certain energy; electric, restless, filled with voices overlapping in an unfiltered rush of stories from the last few weeks. As Rafe pushed open the door to his classroom, that familiar wave of chatter hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Laughter, exclamations, the scrape of chairs against the floor—it was all as chaotic as he had expected.

With a quiet sigh, he made his way to his desk, setting his thermos down on the bleached oak surface before picking it up again almost instinctively, taking a slow sip before returning it to its place. His fingers moved on autopilot, retrieving his school-issued laptop from his bag, pressing the power button, and waiting for the screen to glow to life. His gaze lifted, sweeping across the students, his students. The same faces he’d taught last year, now a little older, a little different, officially juniors.

But one face wasn’t familiar.

You.

Rafe spotted you almost immediately, sitting in the third row, right by the window where the morning sky stretched in endless hues of soft blue. You were listening—well, nodding, at least—to Amanda, whose mouth moved a mile a minute. He didn’t have to hear her know she was spewing an endless stream of conversation; Amanda was known for filling any silence, anytime, anywhere. But his attention wasn’t on her. It was on you.

A dark navy skirt draped over your thighs, the fabric shifting in gentle waves with every slight movement. Your top, a delicate white spaghetti strap with tiny baby blue flowers, hugged your frame, lace tracing the neckline, a small bow nestled right at its center. A beige cardigan hung loosely over your shoulders, two buttons left undone as if they had never been intended for use in the first place. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail, not rigid, not loose, just… effortless. A few strands framed your face, soft wisps that moved when you turned your head, catching the light in a way that made them seem almost ethereal.

And sure, you looked beautiful, undeniably so. But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way your eyes flickered around the room, quietly observing, absorbing. The way your lips parted slightly every so often, murmuring the occasional “Uh-huh” or “Yeah” in response to Amanda’s nonstop chatter, even as your mind seemed elsewhere. There was something in your expression, an almost hesitant curiosity, a quiet awareness, that made Rafe’s fingers pause over the laptop’s keyboard.

He had seen many faces in this classroom. Some familiar, some forgettable.

But yours?

Yours was impossible to ignore.

"Uh— okay, let’s get started. Settle down," Rafe called out to the students, his voice steady despite the chaos. The room buzzed with post-summer chatter, desks scraping against the floor as students found their seats. He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to exhale. The first day back was always like this, full of energy, distractions, and the struggle to rein everyone in. But today, there was another battle brewing beneath the surface, one he wasn’t prepared for.

He hoped that once the lesson began, he could shift his focus, and force himself to look anywhere but at you. He clung to that hope like a lifeline, but the moment he commanded their attention, he had yours.

And when your eyes locked onto him, he was trapped. Hypnotized. His breath hitched, pulse stuttering in a way it had no right to. For what felt like an eternity, he couldn’t tear his gaze away, couldn’t shake the invisible thread tightening between you. His fingers curled into his palm, nails pressing against his skin.

Shit.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to snap out of it, dragging his attention back to the board. He took a measured breath, gripping the chalk like it might anchor him. "Alright, I know you’re all still in vacation mode, but we need to get talking about history."

The usual grumbling came, but it was muted, fading as students settled into their seats. Good. The routine was safe. The routine was predictable. The routine wouldn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

"Before we dive in, we have a new student joining us this year from the senior class," he announced, keeping his tone even, impersonal. His gaze flickered back to you, just for a second, just long enough to acknowledge you without giving himself away. "Would you introduce yourself?"

A brief silence. You hesitated, shifting under the weight of so many eyes before murmuring your name.

"Great," Rafe said, far too quickly. He cleared his throat, turning back to the board. "So, what do we know about American history from the Industrial Revolution to the modern age?"

The next forty-five minutes passed in a blur of discussion, textbook readings, and writing exercises. Normally, this was when he’d catch up on grading or chip away at whatever administrative work he had. But today? No. Today, his focus splintered, frayed at the edges every time he felt your presence in the room.

His eyes kept drifting.

To you.

It was reckless. Stupid. He knew it was wrong, knew exactly how it would look if anyone noticed. He wasn’t blind, he’d found students attractive before, but it had always been a fleeting thing, a passing thought dismissed before it could take root. A moment, nothing more.

But this?

This was different.

This wasn’t just acknowledging that you were pretty, though you were. Incredibly so. This wasn’t just an absent-minded recognition of beauty. No, this was something deeper. Something that twisted in his gut and settled in his bones, something that made his breath catch when he wasn’t prepared for it.

Something dangerous.

His fingers raked through his hair as he stared down at his keyboard, typing nothing. He could tell himself it was just a dry spell, that he’d been avoiding distractions for too long, that it was simply physical. But that would be a lie.

Because it wasn’t just about desire.

It was about you.

And that was a problem.

The shrill chime of the bell split the air, and the classroom erupted into motion. Notebooks snapped shut, chairs scraped against the tile, and a low hum of voices swelled as students shoved books into backpacks, eager to escape into the chaotic freedom of lunch. You swung your bag over your shoulder, weaving through the shifting maze of desks, your focus locked on the door. The cafeteria was called, an oasis of noise and anonymity where you could blend in, and where no one was analyzing your every move.

But just as you stepped forward, a voice cut through the chatter behind you.

"Hey."

It wasn’t loud, but it had weight, like an anchor dropping into the sea of departing students. Something in the tone made your stomach twist. You turned, pulse hitching slightly, to find Mr. Cameron watching you from behind his desk. His expression was unreadable, calm but not necessarily kind.

"Yes, Mr. Cameron?" you asked, hesitating.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?"

It was phrased like a question, but you both knew it wasn’t. He gave a small nod toward the door as the last few stragglers trickled out, a silent instruction.

With a quiet sigh, you nudged the door shut behind them, the click of the latch sealing you in. The classroom, so full of life just seconds ago, now felt cavernous, the quiet pressing in around you. You hesitated before making your way back to his desk, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Mr. Cameron leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the surface of his desk, fingers steepled together. "So… I wanted to talk to you about last year." His voice was measured, and neutral, but something about it put you on edge. "You were in Ms. Wallace’s class, right?" His eyes flicked to a sheet of paper in front of him, though you were certain he already knew the answer.

You shifted uncomfortably. "Mhm." A simple answer for something far more complicated. Your history with Ms. Wallace wasn’t just a class; it was a long, exhausting battle, a relentless tug-of-war between frustration, unmet expectations, and a sinking feeling of inevitability.

Mr. Cameron studied you for a moment before speaking again. "Can you tell me what didn’t work? Was it her? The material? Her teaching style? Or was it something on your end?" His head tilted slightly, voice smooth, probing.

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your fingers clenched the strap of your bag. "I guess I was just… kind of unfocused last year," you admitted, your voice barely above a murmur.

"Mm." He hummed, eyebrows lifting just slightly. "Just last year?"

Your stomach tightened.

"Because judging by today’s lesson, it seems like you're still a little… distracted. More interested in doodles than in history, huh?"

Heat crept up your neck, shame pooling in your chest. Your gaze dropped to the floor as if looking anywhere else might soften the weight of his words.

"You’d think," he continued, his tone carrying the faintest edge, "that after the school let you pass the year and only required you to retake this class, you'd put in a little more effort."

His words landed like a slap, sharp, deliberate. He knew exactly how unfair that was. Knew how it would make you feel. And yet, for whatever reason, he didn’t stop himself.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“You want to pass, yes?”

His voice was low, almost teasing, each word curling around you like smoke. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his desk, dark eyes locked onto yours with something unreadable, something that made your stomach twist.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, and gave a quick, eager nod.

Rafe watched you for a lingering second, dragging it out just long enough to make you shift where you stood. Then, with an exhale that was almost too casual, he pushed himself up from his chair. He didn’t simply stand, he moved. Slow. Deliberate. A quiet display of control as he braced one hand against the edge of his desk, his weight settling into a lean. The aged wood creaked under him, but he didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care.

His focus remained entirely on you.

“And what do you think I could do to help you achieve that?”

Smooth. Measured. But there was something else beneath his tone, something just sharp enough to catch. Playfulness, maybe. Amusement. Or something more dangerous.

His gaze flickered, sweeping over you in a way that felt too quick at first, like a reflex he hadn’t meant to act on. But then, you saw it. The hesitation. The way his throat bobbed, how his fingers flexed at his sides before he rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to shake off whatever had just slipped through the cracks. But it was too late.

You had seen.

And by the way, his jaw clenched a second later, the way his lips pressed together, you knew he realized it too.

Your heart hammered. You didn’t answer him. Couldn’t. Instead, your fingers fidgeted with each other, twisting and untwisting, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. The silence between you stretched, thick and electric, heavy with something unspoken, something neither of you dared name but both of you felt.

Rafe inhaled deeply, the sound filling the quiet space between you. The air itself seemed different now, charged, like something unseen was pressing in, urging one of you to break.

He let the breath out slowly, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that somehow felt… controlled. Intentional. And then, his eyes moved again.

This time, there was no rush. No flicker of hesitation.

Now, he studied you.

It was slow, almost methodical, th

6e kind of look that made heat crawl up the back of your neck, the kind that lingered just long enough in places that made you second-guess every inch of yourself. When his gaze reached your thighs, a nervous jolt ran through you. Almost instinctively, you gripped the hem of your skirt, twisting the fabric in your fists, your knuckles turning white.

A nervous habit.

One he noticed.

One that made his eyes darken, not dramatically, not in some exaggerated, obvious way, but just enough. Just enough for you to catch the shift, to see the amusement flicker across his face like the hint of a smirk he didn’t fully let through.

“Hm?” The questioning hum he let out brought you back to reality, back to his question, and back to the answer that you had yet to give.

“Um… I- I don’t know…” you stammered out.

His eyes flick down again, taking in your upper body, eyes practically circling in on your chest. As if your body has a mind of its own, you straighten your back, puffing out your chest.

Rafe’s eyes flickered up to yours, and for a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

The air between you had thickened, dense with something unspoken, something dangerous. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow, almost pensive as if he were considering something he shouldn’t be. He exhaled sharply through his nose, a breath that almost sounded like a laugh but carried no humor, just tension.

“Yeah?” His voice was softer now, quieter like he was testing the waters, like he was trying to figure out how far this would go before one of you came to your senses.

Your lips parted, but no words came. Your throat felt tight, your skin burning where his gaze traced. You felt like you were standing on the edge of something vast, something that couldn’t be undone.

His fingers tapped once, twice against the desk, a steady rhythm that contradicted the barely concealed restraint in his posture. His body language told two different stories, one of hesitation, and another of inevitability. He was too close, and yet he wasn’t moving away.

Your breath hitched as he shifted, his body angling just slightly towards yours. It was a minuscule movement, one that could��ve been mistaken for a simple change in weight, but you knew better. It was deliberate. Calculated.

“You want to pass this class?”

The question was a mere whisper, his voice dipped in something that made your stomach twist. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, nodding, too fast, too eager.

His lips twitched, almost smirking like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He leaned in just enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne, something dark and musky, something entirely him.

“Then you’re gonna have to focus.”

The way he said it—low, deliberate—sent a shiver down your spine. His words weren’t inappropriate, but the way he looked at you, the way his voice wrapped around each syllable, made them feel like something else entirely.

Your knees felt weak, your heart pounding against your ribcage as your grip tightened around the strap of your bag. The classroom, once suffocating in its quiet, now felt electric, charged with a current that neither of you dared acknowledge aloud.

Rafe exhaled again, this time slower, measured. His hand moved, not towards you, not touching, but close enough that you felt the shift in air between you.

“You’re nervous.”

It wasn’t a question.

Your breath shuddered. “I—”

His head tilted slightly, watching, waiting. His pupils were blown wide, his expression unreadable but entirely focused on you.

His jaw ticked, his fingers twitching at his side like he was fighting something. A beat of silence stretched between you.

And then, Rafe moved.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t forceful. It was a slow descent, a moment stretched into eternity. His lips hovered just above yours, close enough that you felt the ghost of his breath against your skin, close enough that your lips parted in anticipation before your mind could catch up.

He paused—just for a fraction of a second, just enough to give you the chance to pull away. Just enough to make it clear that if this happened, it was your choice, too.

But you didn’t move away.

Neither did he.

And before you could let a single other breath out, his lips met yours.

Soft at first. Testing. A barely-there brush that sent a sharp current through your veins, igniting something dangerous and uncontainable in your chest.

He exhaled against your mouth, and in that moment it seemed like something in him snapped.

His hand found your waist, fingers splaying against the fabric of your cardigan as he pulled you just slightly closer. His other hand lifted, skimming along your jaw before his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head just so.

The kiss deepened, slow but demanding, every movement deliberate, every touch igniting another spark beneath your skin. He wasn’t rushing—no, he was savoring, taking his time like he wanted to memorize the exact way you fit against him. He knew this was a mistake but couldn’t bring himself to care.

Your hands found his chest, pressing lightly against the fabric of his dress shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms. His fingers tightened slightly in your hair at the contact, his grip on your waist firm but careful, as if he was anchoring himself as much as he was anchoring you.

The sharp sound of footsteps in the hallway shattered the fragile haze that had settled between you two, yanking you both back into reality.

Rafe was the first to react, pulling away, but only just. His forehead remained pressed against yours, his breath still ragged, chest rising and falling in sync with yours. His fingers, warm and possessive, lingered at your waist a second too long before he finally, finally, let go, stepping back just enough to put a sliver of space between you. But not enough to erase what had just happened.

His eyes searched yours, dark blue depths swirling with something unreadable, something dangerous. His exhale was sharp, tension coiling through his jaw as he dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping at the strands like he was trying to ground himself.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough and uneven. Then, with more force, “Fuck. Fuck.”

His eyes shut tight, his head shaking in frustration as if the motion itself could erase the last few minutes. When they opened again, they were filled with something even more intense. In two strides, he was in front of you again, his hands gripping your upper arms, fingertips pressing just a little too hard, just enough to make you feel trapped between the heat of his body and the reality of the situation.

“This didn’t happen, okay?” His voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor to it like he wasn’t sure if he believed the words himself. His grip tightened before loosening again, as if he was at war with himself as if he didn’t trust his restraint.

You didn’t answer. You just stared at him, your pulse thrumming wildly, your breath uneven. His eyes flickered down to your parted lips, then back to your eyes, and something in him cracked. His hands slid down your arms in a slow, deliberate motion, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When his fingertips finally settled at your hipbones, pressing in lightly, his resolve wavered even more.

“This…” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

His voice was different now, lower, more raw. His fingers traced absent patterns along the fabric of your skirt as his mind spiraled, thoughts tumbling into a chaotic storm. Why was he doing this? This wasn’t like him. He had met you, his student, his goddamn student, less than an hour ago, and he had already crossed every possible line. And yet, even knowing that he wasn’t pulling away. He was moving closer.

His hands ghosted up your sides, the touch sending shivers across your skin. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell anyone. Can you do that for me?”

If someone had asked you that morning how you thought your first day of senior year would go, never in a million years would you have said this? Sure, you’d heard the whispers in the halls, and seen the way every girl’s eyes lingered when he walked past. Mr. Cameron was the forbidden fantasy, the subject of countless rumors and stolen glances. But he was also your teacher. And he had just kissed you.

You knew it was wrong. You should run, tell someone, do the right thing. And yet, as your mind battled between logic and desire, only one thought rose above the rest: he had kissed you.

Mr. Cameron, the man every girl in school lusted after, had kissed you. Had he done this before? Had he chosen others before you? Or was this different?

Even as doubt twisted itself into a tight knot in your stomach, you found yourself nodding, unable to speak, afraid your voice would betray you with the high-pitched, breathy sound of a girl who had just been touched by fire and didn’t want to step away.

“Good.”

His voice was barely a whisper, almost more breath than sound. The tension in the room grew, thick and suffocating, but you didn’t want to breathe anything else in. His fingers glided upward again, teasing over your waist, grazing over your ribs, leaving a trail of heat that made your entire body burn with anticipation.

Then, gently, with a tenderness that contradicted the fevered hunger in his eyes, he cupped your face. For one impossible moment, you thought he was going to kiss you again, that he was going to throw every bit of logic and control out the window and claim your lips as he had minutes ago. But instead, he tilted your head slightly, his breath warm against your throat.

Then his lips were on your neck, barely touching, soft and slow.

A sound, something between a gasp and a whimper, escaped you, and his hands tightened ever so slightly, grounding you, making you feel small under his grasp. His mouth moved lower, pressing another kiss, and then another, each one more deliberate, more intoxicating than the last.

You barely registered the moment he turned you around, your back now facing him. Your hands trembled as they found purchase against the smooth surface of his desk, the dark wood cool beneath your fingertips.

Then, with the kind of confidence that sent a shiver racing down your spine, he placed his hands on your thighs, massaging them slowly, possessively.

His voice, low and dripping with something dark and dangerous, ghosted over your ear.

“Stay quiet for me.”

You sucked in a deep, long breath, letting your head fall and your eyes close.

The feel of the Rafe´s fingers slid under the skirt and the pads of his fingers started tracing along your panties, each tiny motion making your body stutter and tremble.

“You´re… you´re real special, you know that?” He spoke from behind you but you couldn’t respond, still holding your breath as if letting out the air would make the situation you found yourself in truly real.

When he had had enough of feeling the warm, twisted feeling in his stomach as he let his fingers glide over your clothed cunt, he pushed your underwear aside with his thumb, letting the tip of his index finger dip into your already quivering hole. The action intensified the feeling and buried it even deeper in his gut.

As if a shock of lightning had hit you, you bolted away from his hand a few inches, clenching your thighs tightly as you finally relieved your lungs of the air they were keeping trapped.

“M- Mr. Cameron…” You started to sputter out but stopped when you felt long, gruff fingers curl around the sides of your panties before pulling the black lace material down tantalizingly slow.

A cold rush of air hit your most intimate body part, making you gasp and pant. When you heard rustling and what you could only assume was the clink of your teacher´s belt, you shut your mouth and froze as you waited for the man´s next move.

“Listen,” he whispered your name like it was a sin he committed and you were a pastor, “You understand that this stays between us, yes?” His large hands massaged your ass and thighs, cursing under his breath when he saw how soaked you were.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement. You weren´t sure why. He was your teacher and by the looks of it and the feel of his hands on you, apparently a pedophile. But god did you want this; you wanted it, him, so bad.

Before you could so much as even let another thought pass through your head, he thrust forward, burying his cock inside you as deep as he could with multiple rapid movements of his hips. You moaned and practically screamed, the sounds of pleasure from you making Rafe reach around and cover practically half of your entire face.

“Fuck, you´re so tight,” he muttered sharply next to your ear as he started moving inside of you again, dragging his hips back only to snap them back forward less than a moment later.

“You like that, huh? Like being fucked by your teacher. Little teachers pet.”

He knew this was wrong, you were his student, and you probably didn´t even actually want this but for some fucked up reason that made it even better for Rafe, and as the thought crossed his mind it only made him thrust into you faster. At that point, you were damn near choking and sobbing into his hand, his palm making it hard for you to get a deep breath of fresh air in.

With a sense of panic taking over you, you tried to move your hands off of the desk to claw him off of your face but your attempts proved futile when Rafe pushed you flat onto the desk, forcing you to take his cock even deeper.

His free hand which wasn´t taking away your ability to breathe, found its way between your legs, his index, and middle fingers drawing squiggly circles on your clit. At the shock of pleasure that ran through you as he teased your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves, you clenched around his pipe and arched your back. You felt that familiar coil spring up in the depths of your stomach, your body rocking slightly backward against Rafe´s to help you relive the press soon.

Rafe pushed into you harder than he had any of the other time before then, hitting your sweet spot with a force that would have made you cry out, had you had your mouth free. His fingers applied pressure to the shapes they were making on your clit. The mix of heightened attention and force made your pussy squeeze around him and pushed you over the edge, coming with tears in your eyes.

After a few more brutal thrusts into your soppy cunt, he came as well, unloading into you, his thoughts barely registering anything at that point except for you and your body bent over his desk, his cum dripping out of your used up hole and onto your thighs.

Slowly he took away his hand from your face, a trail of spit following. As soon as you got a few much-needed breaths, you collapsed onto the desk, your body falling limp. Rafe pulled out of you, not wasting any time before he pulled his pants back on and redid his leather belt around his hips. He leaned over you, his body covering all of your sweaty skin as he dressed you in your underwear again.

“You did so good, darling. So, so good."

[papercranesandinkstains]

Kildare University Masterlist

Welcome to Kildare University, we are pleased to have you here! We hope you thrive here! Oh, and don't forget to come out and support the football team!

Or, a social media au of Outer Banks following you from freshman year up to graduation.

This is my first attempt at posting, so please be kind!

I felt inspired to create this fic after reading HB:L/O by @zyafics and Kildare Split by @ghostofwriting!

Read all the SMAU's that inspire me every day here!

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Freshman Year:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Flashback One

Sophomore Year:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Bonus: Cooking with Cleo

Flashback Two

Junior Year:

One, Two

JJ Endgame: Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Rafe Endgame: Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Bonus:

Draft Day (JJ), Draft Day (Rafe)

Flashback Three

Senior Year:

JJ Endgame:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Rafe Endgame:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Flashback Four

[bbokicidal]

Try Harder . : . Chris Bang .:. 10/02/24

Genre : Smut Pairing : Bangchan x Fem!Reader Warnings : Biting, scratching, rough sex, Dom!Chris, pining, etc. Word Count : 2.3K

Kinktober Day 1 of 10 : Biting/Scratching w/ Bangchan

Next Post : 10/04/24

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You'd known Felix for a long while. He was a close friend from your senior year of high school but after he'd grown to become an idol and gone through training, your relationship dwindled a bit. It was only after the training period that your relationship began to rebuild itself - his free time more often and his days spent working simply when he wanted to and had the time. Otherwise, he was often with you at your apartment or at a cafe by your side. People often assumed the two of you were an item - but it was actually quite the opposite.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Felix had his eyes on someone else, and you - well, you had your gaze set on a man you often worked with for your job, and a man Felix knew almost too well. He teased you often about your ever-dwelling crush on the leader of his group, your cheeks pink when the older man leaned in to let you touch up his foundation or to line his lips more precise. He let you do your job and you let him do his - but it wasn't just his looks that drew you in. It was his patience, kind nature, and gentle touch whenever he asked to do his own eyeliner for practice. The way he held the pencil in between two veiny fingers, knuckles knobbed and wide and -- You were so incredibly lucky to land a job as a makeup artist for the idols under JYPE.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Felix knew well of your admiration for the man. Which is why he invited you to a party to set you up with him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Now, you have to understand. Felix knew of your admiration for Chris - but he also knew of your... well, kinks, to put it frank. He knew you were a girl who like someone more dominant, someone who could toss you around a little and treat you like a toy in the bedroom. He knew you preferred to be with someone who could so easily take the lead in the bedroom. Someone rough, aggressive, excited. And to you, Chris wasn't that. So your admiration for him, while of course romantic, was less sexual. You thought that if the two of you were to ever possibly pursue a relationship, you'd have to let those fantasies go of him pushing you around and making you submit.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Felix invited you to the party under the preset that he wanted to introduce you properly to a close friend of his that he knew could satisfy your needs in the bedroom. He spoke that this guy could absolutely give you everything you dreamed of - and when he mentioned this, you thought he might be talking about Minho. You knew they were close, that he cared for Felix, but that he also had a hard outer shell and seemed more.. intense. And you were of course very wrong.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Felix lead you up to Chris with a smile. The older of the two smiled to you, eyes briefly wandering your form to take in your costume before flickering to Felix. The two bicker and Felix just giggles in the end, gesturing to you with a beaming expression. He properly introduces you and you -- God, you just stand there stunned. Chris isn't sure why at first, thinking maybe it was just you being a bit shy in front of an idol. Chris was the man Felix thought could satisfy you in the bedroom? There was no way -- He was too gentle, too kind.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You'd held doubt, you can't lie. But even so, you found yourself talking to Chris for hours into the party. He made you a drink, sat with you on the sofa in the living room and listened to you talk about how you managed to land a job working for JYPE. And he sat, staring with dark eyes, at the costume you sat in - hugging your curves, sitting tight to your skin. He can't help the way his eyes begin to wander over you. Not that they hadn't done that before.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You lift your eyes to meet his after sipping from your drink only to find him shifting beside you. Chris had slung an arm over the back of the couch so it laid behind you where you sat, his body naturally reclining back into the corner of the sofa. His thighs part comfortably and your eyes drop, looking at the way the black pants he wear fit so snug to every muscle he'd worked so hard for; something akin to the pants he wears on stage. (And sometimes rips.)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ His brow cocks at the sight of you staring down to his lap. "See something you like?" He quips, voice coming from his throat in a low hum. Chris lets his head tip and you finally snap back to your senses. Your body trembles as you look up, a shiver of desire wracking your spine. "Hm?" He hums again, plush lips pulling into a knowing smirk.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "I'm.. very attracted to you." You finally murmur, thumb swiping over the back of your hand in a nervous gesture. It makes him chuckle, finding your shy confession quite cute. "And I've been attracted to you for a while, if I'm honest. Maybe that makes me a bad employee."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "No; No." He's quick to shake his head. "Nothing makes you a bad employee, angel. You're perfect. And I mean that." Sitting up from the corner and leaning in a bit closer, his eyes wander over your expression out of curiosity. "And Felix let me in on a little secret the other day."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You stare, eyes widening as he leans in closer to you. A secret --? Had he told Chris about your feelings before you had the chance to confess? "Told me," he starts in a softer tone, "that you're interested in finding someone who can take care of you. And that you don't think I can do that."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "Well - yes. That's what everyone wants, right? It's not that I --... I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Chris. I mean I know you are. I just need someone to take care of me in a way that I --"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "Are you doubting me?"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ The soft squeeze of his hand around your throat is enough to make you melt in his palm. His fingertips dig into your skin, grasping harder at your neck until you're leaning into him so he can whisper, "I can take care of you, angel."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's less than five minutes later that the sofa is empty, your drinks are abandoned on the coffee table, and Chris is walking down the hallway with your body slung over a broad shoulder. Felix peeks from the kitchen with a knowing grin, waving goodbye to you as you whine out in reply.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Your back hits the mattress with a squeak of the springs, the mattress bouncing under your weight until you're settled. Chris wastes no time in crawling over your form, planting himself between your thighs and sighing out as he leans down to finally kiss you. His lips are warm, soft as expected. He takes care of himself outside of work. He has to.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ His hands are gentle at first, until you realize - he's a bit greedy. The way his fingers curl into your hair to pull you close to him; or the way his body presses down so he can be flush against your front. You can feel the way his cock hardens in his jeans the more he kisses you, tongue entwined with yours and plush lips dragging over your own before they detach. He kisses down the expanse of your neck until he's breathing out against your skin in admiration, sucking and biting down on the skin to leave mark after mark.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥The touch of his lips isn't enough to distract you from his hands, however. He's eager with his movements, one hand tangled in your hair to keep your head locked back for him so he can have access to your neck while the other glides down your body - settling in between your legs. It's the only time he fully pulls his hips back, letting himself throb in his jeans as his hand works at you on it's own. Of course, you'd looked at his hands before - but they look far better in this moment; with two vascular, thick fingers sinking into your walls to stretch you open for him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Your sounds spur him on, make him bite his lip in anticipation as he leans away to watch your expressions. You're so cute, squirming and whining and spreading your legs further open for him so he can do whatever he wants with your body. And he's happy to be a little more rough with you, given he knows it's what you want, letting a third dip into your pussy to make sure you can fit all of him when the time comes.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ And as he removes your skirt and his jeans - not worried about the tops given this'll all be quick, he's sure - you're almost certain he's got some sort of experience. The way he lathes a hand over your slick, dips his fingers into you just to tease before removing them, and sitting up on his knees to position the head of his pretty pink cock at your entrance. He knows he doesn't need to put his all into it. He only worries about the way his hips move, pushing forward to slowly sink into your gummy walls that welcome him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He sighs out, a low moan escaping his throat as he leans down. He's quick to kiss you again to quiet you down, lips hot and heavy against yours. His hips lull forward naturally and you whine out into him mouth, your own bucking up in an attempt to receive more.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞��❥ Chris wastes no time in giving you what you want. His hips piston almost angrily - and he is a bit upset with himself that he hadn't taken you like this sooner. His cock slides almost too easily into you, your slick making the job so smooth, so perfect for him. And the way you tighten down on him when his hand lands near your head to push himself up above you gives him a hint as to what you want.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ His fingers curl around your throat and using your neck as leverage, he holds himself up to put most of his weight down on you. It's suffocating, yes, but it's everything you'd ever wanted from him. The soft pain from the lack of air and the way the head of his cock presses into your sweet bundle of nerves more than enough to have you trembling beneath him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ What really gives it away is when you fight to grab onto him - onto anything you can reach, that being his arms - and then his back. Your nails dig into his skin and drag, scratching over his bicep before wrapping around his shoulders and digging into his back instead. Your nails drag over the defined, thick muscle - taught with holding up his weight but bruising under the pressure of your fingertips biting into him. You feel a bit bad for a split second - until he's sighing out in a way that would make you think he was... into it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "Gonna come already? Not yet, baby. Not until I say so."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Chris pulls back with a quick snap of his hips, leaving you gasping as emptiness fills you. His hand leaves your throat and reels back to slap you, quick and sharp, before he pulls on your shoulder to turn you over. And while mumbling about how you're 'such a good girl' for him, his cock slips right back into you with ease.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ His hands lock around your hips this time, pulling them up any time your knees begin to slip on the sheets and angling you just right beneath him. He sits up fully, thumbs pressing over your hips before he lets go to land a few slaps to your ass that leave a wash of deep crimson in their wake.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ As you begin to try and push yourself up on your hands, he's quick to shut it down. His hand lands on your upper back, sliding to the nape of your neck instead as he pushes you down with a heavy amount of force. You choke, gasping out and struggling to breathe against the sheets when he leans over and presses more of his weight down onto you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "None of that," he whispers, drawing his point home by bullying his cock deeper into your walls. You're sure his tip kisses your cervix, aching, throbbing - you can feel each vein pulsing against your walls even with how quick he's being. And every thought leaves your head when he leans down to tell you directly in your ear, "'ve fucked my pillows like this before, y'know? Thought about your, bout your pretty pussy swallowing me whole. 'ts better than I even imagined."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You choke on your cries, closing your eyes and near screaming as he leans down to slam into you a few more times. Your walls tighten down, spasm around the thick of his cock as your orgasm washes over you in pained waves that make you see white. And he has to hold you down to keep you from squirming too much so he can continue.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He pauses only to watch you writhe, wait for you to come down from your high and let you breathe. But he's right back to it after a few short moments, pressing his hips forward in short snaps that cause the skin of your ass to ripple against his hips.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He chuckles, keeping himself pressed down above you as he sighs out. "We're not quite done yet, angel."

Taglist : @crybabykurominho @softkisshyunjin @minniesverse @dwaekkicidal @lixies-favorite-cookie @bookheadeily @jeonginsleftcheek @madkati @jisunglyricist @millseyes-world @warpedspirit @lovetaroandtaemin

[robinsgrl]

outer banks ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ reqs are open, send em!

࿐ jj maybank ࿔*:･ﾟ

jj’s weird girl masterlist

࿐ rafe cameron ࿔*:･ﾟ

fearless.

finding out your best friend has been talking about you behind your back to everyone with an available ear, in the truck of the most feared guy in kildare county, is not what you had planned for your senior year. you wanted quiet. laidback. simple. now, you’re in said most feared guys DM’s, begging him to help you get the guy you like to notice you and get back at your ex-best-friend by doing what every teen flick has told you to do— have a glow-up.

superwars

walmart vs. target has been an argument for as long as you could remember. when time comes to get a job, the feud becomes deeper as you and your ex-boyfriend, turned enemy, go head to head as managers. nothing and no one will stop you and rafe from this rivalry of yours, except maybe your snooping mother who believes you two are dating again. and you can’t disappoint your dear mother, can you?

rafe thought

rafe’s weird girl masterlist

#weird girl!reader for more tiny blurbs and asks regarding!

toxic baby daddy rafe

࿐ undecided/mulitple ࿔*:･ﾟ

kildare nights. social media!au

gold at hand and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.

[rafessweetgirl]

everything you wanted ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ rafe cameron

summary: ward dies but rafe is living the dream. he has it all, dream job, dream girl, dream life. but reader doesn’t seem to feel the same. it’s time she get to live out her dream too.

warnings: angst, breakup, cussing, rafe being oblivious asf

a/n: the second i heard this song on my fyp, a story brewed lmfao. but this goes in hand with this thought (which was oddly written after i started this)(is that normal?)

part 2

i had a feeling you got everything you wanted, and you’re not wastin' time stuck here like me. you’re just thinkin it’s a small thing that happened, the world ended when it happened to me.

you knew what you had to do. really, you should've done it earlier, but you thought you could stay. keep trying, you told yourself. it'll be worth it in the end. now you couldn’t possibly see how staying with rafe was worth dumping your only chance at a new life.

you always wanted to leave outer banks. your dream was to find a life outside of north carolina. your parents weren't the most loving but they were willing to pay tuition out of state. getting away was always the plan, until you fell in love with rafe. it was senior year and you were so close to graduation. but rafe came into the picture and swept you off your feet. being with rafe was amazing. he was loving, and kind, and just so so good to you. he stuck by your side and you by his.

he knew all about your dream life. your pillow talk mostly consisted of you and rafe's dreams and aspirations. but when ward died and sarah was nowhere to be found, he knew he had to take care of the family business. rose definitely couldn't handle the pressure. rafe was stressed constantly but he couldn't do it alone. he needed you to stay. at the end of summer, when you would have been well on your way to school, he begged you to stay with him instead.

"i can't do this alone, baby. i need you with me." he pleaded.

you were unsure. this is what he wanted, but was it what you wanted? "i don't know rafe...."

"look," he took your hand in his and used his other to softly tilt your chin up. "once i fix all this shit ward fucked up, the money will come pouring in. and when it does, what's the point of a degree?" rafe thought it was the best idea in the world. you wouldn't have to waste another four years doing homework. he would spoil you. "you won't need it, 'cus i'll get us everything we need and want."

you just wanted rafe to be happy more than anything. as long as he was okay, you weren't worried about yourself. you hated homework anyway. "okay, rafey. i'll stay."

but now rafe had everything he wanted. you, the business, money, his reputation repaired. all you had was rafe. eventually, it just wasn't enough for you.

“i can’t do this anymore rafe.” rafe was in the kitchen, sitting at the island counter, glasses on, staring at his computer. he looked up and his eyes landed on you standing in the doorway. your eyes were glossed over.

“what?” rafe felt as if his heart stopped. “baby, what are you talking ‘bout?”

“us, rafe.” you motion towards you then him. “this.”

“you can’t be serious.”

what could’ve possibly triggered you to wake up and say that?

"i am rafe." tears cascaded down your face. "i can't do it. i’m not happy anymore, and i havent been for a long time."

"i dont under-"

"of course you don't! you have everything you want! your dreams came true. you got the money, the business is thriving, and you have me. by your side through every fucking thing." it hurt you to yell at him, but you were well past your breaking point. "but i have nothing. i gave up my dreams for you rafe. and i thought i would be okay. as long as you’re happy right?"

"no baby." he stood up, starting towards you.

you stepped back. "no. dont come over here." if he got any closer, he would probably ask you to stay again. and you would probably say yes. again. "did it ever occur to you that you were asking me to give up my future?"

he stayed near the island, leaning on it. "that's not how i meant it though." he said.

"thats what you were doing though rafe!" your anguish wasn’t so obvious to him. “it wasn't just about the degree. so what you pay for everything? i was always supposed to leave. now im stuck, no friends, no life, no accomplishments. literally nothing to show for myself."

"but you have me! isn’t that enough?” he looked at you with wide eyes. “i can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“so you’ll let me go then.”

“what? fuck no.” you were crazy for even thinking that.

“if you let me go, i get everything i want, rafe.”

he didn’t understand what you meant. you saw his confusion in the way his face scrunched up.

“if you let me go,” you repeated, “i can go to college. i can make new friends. i can get a degree. everything i’ve ever wanted.”

“but you’re all i ever wanted, baby, and you just want to leave? am i not enough?”

you hated yourself right now. the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. but having just him wasn’t enough anymore. and if he loved you, he would let you be and you would find your way back to each other.

you walked over to him and cradled his face in your hands. his eyes met yours. “you are always enough for me, rafey. but i don’t want handouts, especially not from you. and if you love me, which i know you do-”

he nodded. “of course i do.”

“-then you realize you’re giving me everything i want by letting me leave.”

“will you come back to me?” he looked at you with teary eyes.

“we’ll find our way back, okay?”

rafe’s heart was breaking with every word that came out your pretty lips. how could you be so cruel to him? he loved you and promised to give you everything himself. but one look in your pleading eyes and his tears fell. he understood now.

you were right: he had to let you go.

“okay.” he agreed. “at least let me help you get packed.”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“yo rafe!”

“rafe?”

“dude, did you hear anything i just said?”

“huh?” rafe looked up. “yeah, heard everything.”

“what i say then?” kielce watched him with an expectant look. rafe’s attention returned to his phone. “exactly.”

“shut up.” rafe grumbled.

“you can’t keep stalking her bro, it ain’t good for you.”

since you left, all rafe did was check every social you had. in fact, he looked forward to getting done with work so he could spend his time watching your new life on the other side of the screen. his heart hurt a little every time he saw your pretty face, hundreds of miles away. you guys didn’t talk much anymore, maybe a liked post or a tiktok sent, but those small interactions meant more to him than you knew.

tonight was kelce’s birthday, so he dragged topper and rafe out to the bar. it was loud but rafe couldn’t hear anything when he looked at you.

“rafe, we need you with us, man” topper stood behind rafe, placing his hands on rafe’s shoulders. “i know you hate to hear it, but we’re here and she’s not.”

“i know.” he wanted topper to shut up. he had a point though.

”toppers right. it’s my fucking birthday and i need my homeboys to turn up with me!” kelce said.

rafe sighed, putting his phone on the bar and standing up. he turned toward his friends. “you’re right. i can’t keep doing this.”

“yeah! that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!” kelce hugged rafe.

“let’s fucking go!” topper exclaimed, waving down the bartender.

rafe realized how selfish it was to keep you to himself. how selfless you were to stay, knowing you were giving up your dream. he had brushed it off as some small thing, disregarding how he changed your life and not for the better.

rafe smiled. for the first time in a long time, he was happy for you. it was bittersweet, to say the least. but at the end of the day, his girl got everything she wanted. including him, because he would always be yours.

rafe admitted it was karma. but at least she was happy.

hope u loved this, feedback is appreciated! i’m still new to ts so suggestions are welcomed, nd uhhh send some reqs for rafe and other characters too, i need sum ideas!!!

[boypussylegendary]

I NEED TO TALK ABOUT HYUN JU (player 120) FROM SQUID GAME!!!

I don't mean to project onto her but oh my lord the trans experience that I see portrayed through her hits so hard. Every behavior she does I can recognize because I feel the same damn thing. Spoilers ahead!!!

Talking about mirrors first, every time we see her in a mirror she's fixing her hair, like in the scene where everyone's taking pictures, plays with her hair to make it frame her face in a way she deems more feminine. She does the same thing in the bathroom scene, she messes with her bangs while she stares at the mirror with a defeated expression on her face. Her obsession with her appearance is subtle but so relatable especially in a trans context, she probably doesn't mean to hyperfocus on it but she can't help it!! When you're trans your outer appearance is the quickest way to convey your identity to this world and when it doesn't align with who you are inside, people start to assign an identity to you that is innacurate and uncomfortable. I'm on episode five and so far they've managed to convey that without saying it which I find very impressive. Though that detail probably requires context and lived experience.

The next thing is the hackey sack game, it was the kicking one in the rainbow race room or whatever, episode five. She explains it later but when she asked everyone to look away, it wasn't just performance anxiety, it was a fear of being percieved. I know from experience that it's almost impossible to do anything in front of a crowd when you're visibly trans because all you can focus on is what everyone else is thinking. Using myself as an example, I can hardly sing in front of a crowd, I'm a theatre kid, I've been to karaoke nights, I love to sing but despite that it's terrifying to do for me because all I can think about is other people's thoughts, "Isn't that the trans kid? They look like shit, why do they dress like that? They're hair looks awful, why can't they just be normal?" It paralyzing sometimes. Back to Hyun ju, she literally has everyone turn away because she can't focus on a life threatening game if she's percieved like that, and she explains that in the episode!! And she's not totally wrong either!! The older woman literally says she's unsightly in the previously mentioned camera scene, and she is turned away by groups of men in the rainbow race game because of how she looks!! Good god I've felt that in my elective PE class in my senior year. It's exhausting and I'm so glad it's touched on because I feel like that topic is never mentioned in trans media. It's always, 'I have to make a name for myself to prove to other trans people that we can do it,' and while that's not a terrible narative, it's very noble, but it's hardly relatable and that's why I love Hyun ju. Yes she is a very noble character, she helps save a man's life in the first game, but it isn't 'in the name of young trans kids everywhere,' she can convey the trans experience without being famous.

[dragonwysper]

TRUE. I love them honestly they're great

sometimes i look at animorphs, a series for the 8-12 market, and look at all the blood and death and gore and near-deaths of the protagonists and psychological horror and grief and ptsd and survivor’s guilt in this series and think, what the hell would this series be like if it was aimed at teens

and then i remember

i’ve read those books

they were written by animorphs author ka applegate’s husband, michael grant, they’re called the gone series, and they’re grim as all hell

[netmors]

STAR WARS: Eleventh Fleet AU

Hey-hey, I worked, caught a cold, got sick and that’s enough… …so, concept art for the Eleventh Fleet.

Ar'alani and Vah'nya's designs are fairly simple, but the problem with them in particular, and the Chiss in general, is their clothing and style. There are many official references, including those from Legends, but each artist still has his own vision regarding, for example, the shape of the fleet. Somewhere there is a strong homage to the design from the old canon, somewhere it was modernized, and in the latter they added the same “honor's chains”, which look a little strange on the laconic form. It seems to be in the Chiss style, but very impractical.

As a result, I am reworking the design of the expansion and defense fleet uniform, but more on that another time. Let's return to Ar'alani and Vah'nya.

At the beginning of the events of the "Eleventh Fleet", Senior General Ar'alani on his flagship "Vigilant" is increasingly confronted with the Grysks. A year will pass since her last meeting with Thrawn, when the invaders of the Ascendency space will openly attack the Chiss ships.

Such cat and mouse would continue for another year until the disappearance of another Night Dragon class war cruiser, subsequently leading to disaster in the heart of the Chiss Ascendancy. The Senior General will be one of the few superiors who, along with Ba'kif, can survive. Much of this will be down to Vanto and Ronan - unaccounted for variables in the Grysk's plans. The trust placed in Thrawn's "alien protégés" paid off in full.

The Senior General was often accompanied by Senior Navigator Vah'nya. "Vigilant" almost always accepted missions to search for missing navigators. Vah'nya not only guided the ship through the stars and darkness of outer space, but she was much better at rehabilitating rescued navigators, as well as leading the other navigators on the ship. Friendship with Eli played an important role in this.

Because of her "anomaly" as a Navigator who hasn't lost her powers into adulthood, many of the regulations and rules simply don't work for Vah'nya the way they do for other girls. And to be an “anomaly” for Sindikure is a very subtle walking on the edge of a charrik. And yet, to the dissatisfaction of some aristocrats and syndics, the girl manages to balance on it for quite a long time.

+ bonus Ba'kif timeline concept art.

Because I’m not entirely sure that I’m right, but I really wanted to think about what this gorgeous grandpa would have looked like during the Thrawn. Ascendency Trilogy. And I also reworked his “chains” and other form elements quite a bit. And yes, I’m more than sure that Thrawn adopted Ba'kif’s “style” in his time.

[cameronspecial]

Bad Friend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Sex and Making A Bet On A Date On Getting A Date With A Girl.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 10.8K

Summary: After Rafe makes a bet with Topper, it leaves him in need of Y/N's help. Y/N doesn't believe in love, but through getting to know Rafe while helping him, she may start to rethink her thoughts about the feeling.

Masterlist

“I dare you to get Y/N to date you,” Topper challenges, taking a sip from his drink. Rafe’s eyes stare at the pair of girls stumbling over each other, laughing as they trip on the sand. They are obviously very drunk. Rafe doesn’t think he has ever seen her smile. The only person who could break Y/N’s enigmatic and emotionless composure is the girl currently being held up by her, Amanda. Rafe isn’t one to back down from a dare, but he also doesn’t chase after a lost cause. Love isn’t something that Y/N has ever sought after. It isn’t a secret to anyone on the island. She’s the product of an affair; her Kook father cheated on his wife with her Mainlander mother. She grew up listening to her mother’s stories about how charismatic boys always leave behind brokenhearted girls. About how even though Willard Graham genuinely did love Cordelia Y/L/N, the money his wife, who was back in the Outer Banks, would bring was more important than the little girl he bore with Cordelia. This didn’t stop Cordelia from moving to the Outer Banks and Willard didn’t object, he wanted to be in his daughter’s life. But that truth imprinted itself on Y/N. She saw how the possibility of love tore her mother apart and she vowed to never let herself go through the same thing. In fact, she abandoned all notions of emotions in general. Feelings made her vulnerable and vulnerability got her hurt. 

Rafe doesn’t need to get tangled up in that mess. He pulls away from the sight of the best friends and shakes his head at Topper. “Nah, I don’t feel like dealing with her. She may be all bark and no bite, but I don’t want to deal with that yapping dog,” he refutes. Kelce chuckles, “Come on, you scared you won't be able to win her over. Or better yet, maybe you’re scared of her.” The rest of the senior boys laugh, teasing Rafe about being frightened by the junior. “Dude, I could get any girl I want. But if I’m going to be going after someone, I might as well go for someone that’s actually hot. Y/N looks like she fucks about as good as a sack of potatoes,” Rafe disagrees. 

Topper gives into Rafe’s demands for a different target, “Fine. How about Amanda? We’ve all heard the rumours about her in bed, but she will be hard to get with guard dog Y/N by her side. So I bet you can’t get Amanda to go on a date with you by the end of the summer.” He spots the girls again from across the fire. “What do I get if I win?” Rafe questions, swirling the solo cup in his hand. What’s the point of a bet if Rafe doesn’t gain anything from it? “Bragging rights,” Topper continues when he sees Rafe’s raised eyebrows. “And… we’ll each give you two thousand dollars.” This piques Rafe’s interest. He honestly would’ve done it for the bragging rights, ten thousand is a raindrop compared to the ocean of his family wealth, but it’s always fun to get a little extra money. Before Rafe can agree, Kelce speaks up with his own question. “Hold on, what do we get if you lose?” Rafe’s hand reaches for his chin, rubbing it as he thinks about what he can offer. Money is a plausible option, yet it’s nothing to the rich Kooks. He feels the buzz of his phone with a notification from Barry saying that his next stock is ready. A lightbulb shines in his mind. “I’ll give you all free blow for a month,” he suggests, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Sure, they can afford their own drugs, yet the principle of getting stuff for free gets to anyone. His friends grin at him. “Deal.” 

———

Amanda Dalton. One of the sweetest Kooks around and also the most innocent. She’s the epitome of the dumb blonde stereotype, no matter how much Y/N tries to help her friend out. “Y/N, what state is Canada in? I can’t find this on the map?” Amanda asks, searching through the American map. Y/N sighs and searches up a map of North America, “Babe, Canada is its own country. See. It’s right on top of America. So it’s not a state.” Amanda concentrates on her friend’s phone. “Oh, that makes sense,” she whispers, going back to typing on her phone. Y/N puts her phone away and continues to paint her nails, “Why do you want to know?” “Well, I wanted to buy tickets for the Era’s tour in To…ron…to. It says it’s in Canada,” Amanda explains.

“Toronto? That is in Canada.”

“How about Vancouver? It says British Columbia. Is that in England? I’ve always wanted to go to England.”

“No, Babe. Vancouver is in Canada. British Columbia is the province. It’s like a State. Why are you looking at other concerts anyway? Didn’t your dad already get us the tickets for the concert and plane?”

Amanda nods, “He did. I wanted to go to another one. I guess I won’t be though. Thank you for coming by the way. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of concerts.” Y/N looks up at her friend with a smile. “No problem, I would do anything for you. You know that. Plus, someone has to keep you safe.” Y/N takes Amanda’s hand, starting to paint the girl’s nails without asking. Much to the girls’ surprise, the sliding door opens and Rafe appears before their eyes. “Hello, ladies. How are we today?” he questions with a smile. He settles in the chair between the girls and leans forward on the table. “What are you doing here?” The friends postulate at the same time. Amanda with curiosity. Y/N with annoyance. He flashes his pearly teeth, “Mr. Dalton asked me to come over. I’m helping my dad with the company and he is making a deal with Mr. Dalton, so I offered to come over to go over the contract one more time.” 

“How sweet!” Amanda gushes. Y/N has the opposite idea, “So why are you with us right now?” Rafe ignores the latter and turns to the former. “Not as sweet as your cupcakes. Your little brother let me try one and it was delicious,” he compliments. Y/N knits her eyebrows together. She doesn’t understand why Rafe is being so nice. He’s only polite to people he wants something out of. Amanda’s cheeks turn red and she turns her head to hide it, “Thank you. It’s a new recipe.” “Well, it was really good. If you like cupcakes, I know this great bakery on Maine Street. Maybe… maybe I can take you some time,” he proposes with a charming grin. Amanda’s eyes start to twinkle, “I would love that. Y/N and I love cupcakes. Her favourite is salted caramel. Do they have them?” Rafe is about to correct the assumption that Y/N is invited when the door opens again. 

“Rafe, thank you for waiting and coming over. I’m ready to go over the contract now,” Mr. Dalton announces, giving Rafe room to walk back into the house. Rafe bids goodbye to the girls and follows Mr. Dalton inside. 

———

Y/N closes the front door behind her, making sure to yell out to the family to lock the door after her. The gravel gives way to the pressure of her feet and she puts her headphones on as she picks up her bike from the ground. Her father tried to buy her a car, but she wouldn’t take it. The only thing she allows Mr. Graham to do for her is to pay her tuition at Kildare Academy, but she refuses his help for anything else. She even started working at The Wreck so that she could grow independent from him in university. Unlike most people in the Outer Banks, Y/N doesn’t really belong to either of the tribes. Her father is a wealthy judge, who is the son of an affluent lawyer and doctor. Her mother makes enough as a software developer for them to sit comfortably, nowhere near Kook level, yet also more than the Pogues. Sometimes it’s hard for Y/N to be in the middle of both worlds. Both accept her into their groups, except for the times when she does something that goes against their nature and then it’s like she belongs to neither. Like when she went to Midsummer as a guest, the Pogues were quick to mock her for being a part of the tradition. Or when she sided with the Pogues during a fight between the two groups and suddenly, the Kooks didn’t know who she was. 

Before she hops on the bike, the front door opening and closing causes her to turn around. She thought maybe she had forgotten something and Amanda was coming to bring it to her. Instead, she finds Rafe watching her. Rafe isn’t expecting to see Y/N at the end of the driveway. He didn’t see her when he said goodbye to Amanda, so he assumed she had left a while ago. As they stare at each other, an idea pops into Rafe’s mind. It’s a long shot, except if he can get her to do it, then it would help him along with the bet. Even though, Amanda isn’t a virgin, everyone knows she can be a little ditsy in terms of actual dating. As made evident in his earlier conversation with her, she isn’t the greatest at detecting that someone is flirting with her. He knows that the way other people have had sex with her is because she approached them and Rafe didn’t want to play the game like that. It would be too easy. Plus, Y/N backs off the guys if Amanda is the one to initiate it. He is here to play the game, so he will. 

“Do you want a ride?” he calls out, opening the passenger’s side door for her. Y/N considers it for a second. It would take her around thirty minutes to bike home and only ten minutes by drive. All it takes is for her to notice the setting sun for her to come closer to him. She doesn’t say anything as she opens the back of the truck bed. She struggles a little with putting her bike in the back, so Rafe helps her out. His hand accidentally grazes her arm and she jerks it away from him as soon as she feels his touch. She storms off into the car. Rafe sighs and closes up the back. This is going to be harder than he thought. 

The truck sits in silence before she breaks it. “What are you up to with Amanda?” she interrogates, not looking away from out the window. Rafe isn’t sure how to word his proposition, “Nothing, I was just being nice.” “That’s a lie. Everyone knows that isn’t in your vocabulary,” she retorts. He shrugs and looks back at the road, “Maybe it is now. Amanda is a darling. She deserves to be treated in a pleasant way.” 

“You don’t treat your own sister like that. What makes Amanda so special?”

“I don’t know maybe I like her…” 

He tries to make the words as genuine as he can, looking over to Y/N to further the believability. “Ha, I’m not going to let you go anywhere near her,” she laughs. This is his opportunity, “You might change your mind once you hear what I have to offer.” The joy she feels stops abruptly. She shouldn’t be intrigued, yet she is. He takes her silence as a motion to keep going, “I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars if you help me get a date with Amanda.” Her first instinct is to reject him, “You are ridiculous if you think I would do that to my best friend.”

“Why not? You aren’t doing anything bad. I don’t want to hurt her. Just take her on a date. No offence to her, but we both know that talking to her can make you feel like a catapult. Everything goes over her head.”

“It’s practically selling my friend to you for 10K. I’m not doing it.”

“You aren’t selling her to me, just helping me out. Like a consultant. You could use the money for university. I bet it would go a long way.” 

He got her. He can see the moment her frown turns to interest and he has to stop himself from celebrating. Her mind hates her right now. How could her mood instantly change at such a selfish thought? She thought that she was more loyal and had better values than that. However, the money would help her out a lot with tuition and it’s not like Amanda has to know. “Fine, I’ll help you.” This is a bad idea. 

———

Closer to closing The Wreck is practically a desert town. Y/N sits at the counter, reading over her textbook. “I’d like a table for two, please,” a voice interrupts her studying. She looks up to see that Rafe is alone. She chuckles, “And who is going to be joining you? Your ghost girlfriend.” “Haha. I forgot how funny you are. No, you are,” he reacts, waiting for her to give him a table. She gets up to get him a menu, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working.” “There is no one here, Y/N. If someone does come, then I wouldn’t get angry at you for getting up to help them,” he points out, holding his hand out to the booth he decided to sit at since she isn’t moving. She huffs in defeat and joins him at the table. “Did you want to order anything? I don’t think Mike and Anna would like it if I just let you hang out here,” she informs before sitting down. Rafe glances over the menu, “Ugh, a cheeseburger, fries and a coke for me, please. And then get whatever you want. On me.” Y/N’s eyebrows rise at the mention of a please and that he’ll pay for her food. She isn’t going to argue though because who doesn’t like free food? 

Rafe plays with his rings while he waits for her to return. “Alright, I put the order in,” she tells him, sliding into the booth across from him. He nods and looks down, “Thanks.” She waits for him to talk and gets annoyed when he doesn’t. “Why did you come here, Rafe?” she asks with irk dripping from her voice. He gathers his thoughts, “You said you’d help me get through to Amanda. So what can you tell me?” “Right. Then I have two things I want to bring up. One. I’m going to quiz you to make sure you actually care for her. Two. If you pass, we are going over the terms of this deal,” she lists with two fingers up. Nerves cause goosebumps to run up and down his arms. The prospect of being quizzed on Amanda makes him worry that he won’t be able to keep up this charade. He extends his hand out, motioning for her to continue. “I’ll start easy. When is her birthday?” she tests. 

“May 25th.” 

“Correct. What’s her favourite TV show?” 

“She says The Good Place because it’s your favourite, but it’s really The Bachelorette.” 

“Okay. Last year, she had an allergic reaction to something. What was it?”

“She got stung by a bee.”

“Right. Final question, what does she do when she gets nervous.” Rafe pauses for a second. He has no idea what the answer is. The only reason why he knows all the other stuff is because Amanda is a loud talker, but something that comes from an observance of her wouldn’t register in his brain. As he thinks, his eyes are drawn to the way Y/N’s fingers dance along the table. He can tell they are moving in a pattern but he can’t keep track of it. “Are you going to answer the question?” she impatiently queries. He focuses on her face, “No, I honestly don’t know. I really do like her. I promise.” “Your promises don’t mean anything to me, but you still pass. I was going to help you anyway, knowing those things don’t mean anything. I just wanted to make you suffer a little,” she teases with a soft smile that Rafe enjoys. He chuckles, “You got me. So, to go over the deal. As long as she goes on a date with me by the end of the summer, you get your money. Does that work for you?” “It works perfectly. I’m going to add that I am not going to let you do anything that hurts her and if you do it behind my back, I’m going to chop your dick off and sell it on the black market to be eaten by the creepiest bidder,” she threatens, her finger pointed at him. He extends his hand out to her, “Deal.” 

———

Y/N readjusts the magazines on the ottoman one more time. She doesn’t know why she told Rafe to come over to her house, but there is more of a chance that they get caught by her going over to his house than by him coming over to hers. There are always more eyeballs on Tannyhill. She is snapped out of her worry by the ding-dong that sounds throughout the house. Her sock-covered feet glide against the hardwood floors as she hurries to answer the door. “Hi,” she greets a little out of breath from her cartoon-like slip. “Come in.” She steps out of the way so Rafe can make his way inside. He enters the house and takes off his shoes once he notices the pile by the door. His eyes examine the open plan of the house. Her house isn’t anything like one would find on the Cut, yet it also isn’t as big as the ones in the Figure Eight. It was brand new when Cordelia bought it and since then, it has undergone small renovations as necessary. 

“I get that it isn’t as big as your house. You don’t need to make googly eyes like that though,” she comments, heading to the kitchen to get something to drink. He shakes his head, “No, I wasn’t thinking that. Your house looks cozy. I like it.” “Well, I don’t care for your approval. Do you want something to drink?” she offers, holding up a can of coke. Rafe doesn’t know if the choice of drink is because she is getting one for herself or if she remembers his order from The Wreck. His head flicks up to signal he does want one. He settles on the couch and listens to the sound of the can being cracked open. She pours the drink into a glass with ice, walking over to join him on the couch. When she places her water next to his bubbly pop, he concludes that she remembered his order and this causes his stomach to flip. He could tell people a hundred times what his favourite food is and he would bet all his money they wouldn’t hold the information in their brain. She takes a sip from her drink, “You have to be more direct when it comes to Amanda, but also not too obvious with what you want or you’ll scare her off.” “If I have to be clear and not clear at the same time, where does that leave me?” he questions with a chuckle. She holds her fingers up so they are practically touching, “In this sweet spot that gets you a date with her.” He sits against the back of the couch. “Okay, so how do I get in that sweet spot?” he inquires, drinking from his cup. “Movies. Recreate a famous movie scene and that’s when it will click in for her.”

“What kind of movies? Like romcoms?” he gets her to clarify. She nods and squats in front of the entertainment centre under the television. She pulls out different DVDs, placing them in front of him. “Yep, we are going to watch all of her favourite rom-com movies, so take notes,” she tells him. He looks at the spread in front of him, “You actually have DVDs.” “Yeah, these cheer Amanda up when she is down and you never know when streaming services will take them down,” she says nonchalantly. He gives her a soft gaze, “You must like the movies too if you bought them though.” “Not really. They’re okay. I prefer mystery movies. Knives Out, A Simple Favor, The Menu. You know, stuff like that,” she lists while popping in the first movie. Rafe thinks it’s sweet that Y/N went out of the way to buy these comfort things for her best friend. 

During the ads, Y/N goes to the kitchen to get some snacks for them. The variety she has is impressive, yet he doesn’t find the quintessential movie night snack. “No popcorn? Not that I’m complaining.” She brings the box of donuts in her lap, “Nah, who needs to fill up on that shit when I’ve got Krispy Kreme donuts.” He watches as she picks up a jelly-filled donut and bites into it. She lets out a small moan, pulling the treat away from her mouth to leave behind the red jam at the corner of her lips. The sound she made went straight to his brain, the one downstairs. His hand goes up to his own mouth to hint at the mess on her face. She wipes at the wrong side, so he goes to wipe the correct corner. She jerks away from him, “It’s okay I got it.” “Sorry,” he mumbles, dropping his gaze with shame. She shakes her head, “It’s fine. I just don’t like being touched. Do you want a donut?” He picks out a regular glazed donut and eats it. “You are right, these are better than popcorn. I have to ask though, why donuts over popcorn?” 

“My mom never liked popcorn. Said they made the house smell when you popped it and the kernels were a choking hazard. Plus, since Krispy Kreme isn’t on the island, she’d make it a whole event when we went to the main island to get them for movie night.” 

“That sounds fun. Are the jelly donuts your favourite?” 

“Yep, I like strawberries and who doesn’t like powdered sugar.”

“True, both very valid reasons to like it. Can I have one?” 

She pulls the box away from him, “That’s a funny joke. These ones are mine.” “You’re territorial, noted,” he thinks out loud. The movie starts and a hush falls on both of them. After watching a few movies, they take a break to go to the bathroom. “Do you want to watch The Good Place?” he proposes as she walks back into the room. She tilts her head at him, “Sure. I meant to ask. How do you know it’s my favourite show?” He changes the TV to the Firestick and pulls up the show on Netflix. His shoulder rises, “You talked about it in philosophy class. It was what you made your presentation on and you sounded so passionate about it that it was clear how much you liked the show.” “Huh, I didn’t think you would notice that,” she thinks out loud. He gives her a pointed look, “I’m not as unobservant as people think that I am, you know. I do actually listen when other people speak.” She smirks at him. “Really? I wasn’t aware your ears had the ability to listen.”

———

The sight before her is one that she never dreamed of seeing. She honestly isn’t sure if her rom-com plan is going to work, but getting Rafe to recreate the movie and the money is worth the lie she told him. It wasn’t hard to get most of their class to come to the football field during the summer. Everyone will do what Rafe would say and people are too scared of Y/N to argue. When the speaker turns on with a loud screech, multiple people duck with their hands covering their ears. The beginning melodies of “Can’t Take My Eyes off Of You” by Frankie Valli start to play and out comes Rafe from behind the bleachers. He sings the lyrics as he moves from side to side of the rows, pointing to Amanda to make it clear who he is talking to. Y/N glances at her friend to see the other girl’s eyebrows connected. She nudges her friend with her elbow, “I think he is serenading you.” “Like in 10 Things I Hate About You?” Amanda’s eyes brighten. Y/N’s head moves up and down, “I think so.” Amanda’s hands come together near her heart and a smile paints on her face. 

“This is so sweet. Do you think he wants to fuck?” 

“Babe, for him to go through all of this, I think he wants to do a lot more than have sex.” 

The song finishes and Rafe hops over bench after bench to run in front of Amanda. “Please go on a date with me, Beautiful,” Rafe pleads. Y/N should feel happy that the plan is working. The look on her best friend’s face says it all, yet it doesn’t help the ugly roar she wants to let out at the nickname he used. She is pulled out of her thoughts by Amanda screaming yes. Amanda flings herself into his arms and kisses his face. The student body claps to congratulate the pair. With the endgame achieved, Y/N feels she is overstepping, so she starts heading back to her bike. 

A voice from behind her halts her departure. “Hey, Y/N, wait. Where are you going?” She spins around to see Rafe chasing after her. “I’m heading home. You got your date to go on and I’ll wait until you go on it to collect what you owe me,” she says, getting on her bike. Right as she is about to petal off, Rafe runs in front of her and grabs her handlebars so she can’t go further. His head moves from side to side, “We are going out tomorrow. She has dinner planned with her family tonight, so I thought that maybe as a thank you, we can go to the Mainland and get some doughnuts.” “From Krispy Kreme?” she mutters, playing with the knob of her bike bell. He smiles, “Where else? Come on, we can make an afternoon out of it. I think it would be fun.” “And why would you want to spend more time with me? I’m not the one that you like,” she responds. His fingers meet her hands on the bar. When she doesn’t flinch, Rafe thinks she lied about not liking being touched or maybe her feelings about him have changed. “Because I’m grateful that you are helping me and I want to thank you.”

“You will thank me with the ten thousand dollars that you give me.”

Rafe doesn’t know why he insists on taking Y/N out; he really wants to spend the afternoon with Y/N. 

“Are you really turning down a free doughnut? I saw that box, you don’t have any more strawberry jelly doughnuts to fill your tummy, Petite Louve.” 

Three years of French means that Y/N can easily translate the nickname he calls her. Little Wolf. She wants to ask why he called her that, except her rumbling stomach gets her to agree with his statement instead, “Fine, let’s go.” Rafe lets out a victorious whoop and he helps her off her bike. They walk beside each other to his car. Y/N would bump her hip against his every once in a while, which would cause him to knock into the bike that he was holding for her. He could only chuckle every time she did so. 

———

“How can you drink that? It’s basically all sugar?”

“Says the person who is about to eat a bunch of donuts. I don’t think you can judge me though because you are drinking pure dark roast. No wonder you are so bitter.”

Y/N giggles, “I will have you know that my bitterness is due to the fact that most people suck.” “Hm, that makes more sense. Here, try some. Maybe it will make you a little sweeter,” he offers. He tips the straw in her direction. The light brown slushy-like drink is topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Her lips wrap around the tube and suck. Rafe tries to stop the intruding thought of her lips being around something else. He doesn’t know why the image came into his mind; he shouldn’t think of her like that. Her face scrunches as soon as the sweet liquid hits her tongue. “Blegh, I was right. This is too sweet,” she criticizes. She hands him back his drink and their hands brush against each other. He laughs at her reaction and she loves the way it sounds. He takes a sip from his drink, “Why am I not surprised that it’s too sweet for you, Petite Louve?” She stops swirling the coffee cup in her hand and looks up at him. “Why did you start calling me that?” she queries. He leans back in his chair, “Call you what?” “Petite Louve,” she utters without hesitation. His elbows meet the table as he places his head on his hands, “It means little wolf.” He knows what she wants to know, except he is enjoying this game. She rolls her eyes and her arms cross one on top of the other. “I was in your French class last year, Rafe. I know what it means,” she scolds, giving him a dead stare. Rafe’s hands go up in defence, “Alright, alright. It’s because wolves are protective of their pack and they don’t often let outsiders in. That’s how you are with your pack.” 

“I see. Wolves are pretty cool so I accept that nickname,” she concludes. He lets out a satisfied breath, “They are. So are you going to eat your doughnut or are we going to stare at it all afternoon?” Her eyes dart to the white puff piece in front of her. She picks it out and holds it up to him. He gives her a raised eyebrow. “Because you let me try your drink,” she clarifies, waving it in his face. He takes a bite and similar to what happened to her a few days ago, a small red blob forms at the corner of his lips. Her arm instinctively reaches for his face and wipes the smear off his face. She uses the napkin to clean off her thumb. “Thanks,” he shows his gratitude by offering the doughnut he picked out for himself. 

She takes a bite out of it and they eat in silence for a few minutes. “I totally embarrassed myself this afternoon, didn’t I?” he verifies between bites of his caramel Kreme crunch. A grin forms on her face as she recalls the events, “I thought it was hilarious. Unfortunately, from what I saw on Insta, every girl found it romantic and every guy wished they thought of it to get into Amanda’s pants.” Rafe can see the gears turning behind her eyes. “You are planning their downfall, aren’t you?” Her grin turns wicked, “Most definitely. They are going to regret the shit they said.” “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what you have planned for those guys,” he informs. They had about two more doughnuts each before packing up the rest for home. He opens the door for her and hovers his hand on her lower back as he guides her to his car, making sure not to make any contact with her. She can feel the heat emanating from his hand and wishes that she can feel the weight of it. He pulls the passenger’s side door open for her, closing it once she is safely in the truck. As he drives to the ferry, his eyes dart toward her and drink in her appearance. Her shoes are resting firmly on the floor mat while her sock-clad feet are curled under her leg. She leans back against the car seat with her hands on her knee. The slight dip at the corner of her lips does not stop her from mouthing along to the lyrics of the song. 

Her clothes aren’t name-brand like the other Kook girls. It looks like something she could get at any generic store. However, one thing stands out to Rafe as he watches her stick her hand out the window to glide with the wind. A gold bracelet with three small diamonds slid down her right arm. Only one person could’ve gotten her that Tiffany & Co. bracelet. “Why won’t you let your dad pay for your university?” The hand out the window drops onto her lap. She fiddles with her bracelet. “He didn’t want to be in my life. The only reason why he suddenly cared about my existence is because my mother moved here, so I could be closer to him. He solely cared for me when it fits into his life,” she begins. “If he pays for my university tuition, then it’s going to be like I owe him something. And the last thing I want is to owe that man something.” 

Rafe nods as she says, “If you don’t want to owe him anything, then why are you going to Kildare Academy? It’s not like you can’t go to Kildare Country.” “It’s an agreement I made with my mom. She agreed that I could pay for university if he pays for private school,” she shrugs. He finds it refreshing that, even though she could choose to be taken care of, she wants to provide for herself and work hard to be able to do so. The car slows once her house comes into view. It comes to a stop and Rafe reaches behind the seats for the box of doughnuts in the back. His hand accidentally brushes her shoulder; she doesn’t flinch away. Instead, she wishes his warmth would remain against her skin. He turns toward her and rests it on her lap. “Thanks… for everything. It was really nice of you,” her voice is barely above the sound of a mouse. He flashes her a smile, “No problem. And should I be concerned that you are being kind to me? Are you playing nice so I don’t suspect you are going to kill me?” “Haha, I’ll have you know that I can be delightful sometimes,” she retorts. Her eyes wander down his face to his pink lips. They appear to be softer than she expected. He doesn’t seem like the type to use lip balm. He notices her line of sight and instinctively, he examines the curve of her lips. 

His head leans forward and she follows his lead. A knock at the window causes them to jump away from each other. “Hey, Baby! Where have you been?” Cordelia yells through the window. “Is that Rafe Cameron beside you?” The mother squints at the boy sitting beside her daughter. “Yes, Mom, it’s Rafe. We went to the Mainland for doughnuts. We brought you back the glazed chocolate cake ones you like,” Y/N reports to her mother whilst rolling down the windows. Rafe’s head peeks out from behind Y/N’s head, “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.” They wave at each other and Cordelia smiles at the two of them. “Please, call me Cordelia. You bought me dessert. Do you want to come inside for dinner? We are probably going to order from The Wreck,” she suggests. Rafe shakes his head with tight lips, “I would love to if I didn’t have to go to dinner with my family tonight.” “Ahh, that’s too bad. You definitely have to come over another time,” she encourages. He assents to the statement, “It would be my pleasure.” Y/N gets out of the car, gathers her bike from the back and the women bid Rafe au dieu as he drives back home. 

“You and Rafe would make a pretty cute couple.” Y/N’s eyes orbit themselves, “We aren’t a couple, Mom.” “Sureee. I saw you guys were about to kiss. It was funny seeing how fast you guys jumped away from each other,” the mother taunts her daughter. Y/N groans, “Forget about delivery, I’ll pick up our food myself.” She hops on her bike and starts making her way to the restaurant. “You can’t escape my questioning forever, Baby,” Cordelia screams to the girl fading into the distance. 

———

He didn’t want to lie with Y/N close by; he couldn’t exactly reveal to her that he was going to meet up with his friends to collect his winnings from a bet. It would ruin everything if she found out about the bet. “I think it’s cheating that you got Y/N to help you out,” Topper objects, setting his stack of money on the table. He shrugs, “We didn’t mention anything about getting outside help. We merely talked about me getting a date with Amanda, which I am going on tomorrow.” Rafe counts the money, listening to his friend complain to the others.

———

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother said. When she got home, her mother wouldn’t believe that Rafe wasn’t her boyfriend until she told the older woman he was going on a date with Amanda. Despite that, her mind is plagued with the idea of being his girlfriend. She’s never felt this way before about someone. She shouldn’t feel this way about him. Love isn’t something that is on her checklist for things she wants to achieve in life. “Get out of my brain you insufferable man,” she grumbles to herself. She twists to rest on her other side, watching the light shine on her bedroom wall as a car drives by. Why can she still feel the warmth of his hand at the bottom of her back? Why didn’t she feel uncomfortable by his touch on her shoulder? She places her hand over the shoulder he touched, trying to simulate his touch. It doesn’t feel the same. Her hand drops to her elbow and she goes through the day. The envy she felt at Rafe calling Amanda beautiful. The sweet gesture of going out of his way to take her somewhere that means so much to her. The way he respected her boundaries about being touched when she didn’t initiate it. These all lead her to one conclusion she can’t make sense of. She must be falling in love with Rafe Cameron. And there is one thing she needs to do before his date tomorrow that is going to make her a bad friend. 

———

Rafe jogs over to the front door and swings it open. “Hey, I got your money. I was going to give it to you tomorrow… I can get it for you now if you want,” he propositions, stepping back to head upstairs. Her hand darts out to grab his wrist. At the contact, she retracts her arm back to her side with a mumbled sorry. “It’s okay, come in. If you aren’t here for the cash, what did you want to talk about?” he queries. She avoids the windows to his soul and plays with the bottom of her sweater’s sleeve. “Petite Louve, are you okay?” he worries, his hands ghosting the side of her arms. Her normal assurance seems to have evaporated completely from her body. She finally has the confidence to look at him, “Do you really like Amanda?” He pauses, unsure of what to say. “O-of course I do. Why else would I ask for your help with asking her out if I didn’t?”

“Maybe… maybe at the time you thought you liked her.” 

“I did and I still do.”

“Do you really though? Because you don’t have any chemistry with her. Not like you do with... With me.”

His emotions flood him like an ocean overtaking a desert. How can he deny something so true? Except he has too. Not simply because of his bet on Amanda, but because what do two people like them know about romantic devotion? One who doesn’t believe in it and the other who enjoys the chase too much to care about commitment. When the pads of her fingers grazed his face yesterday, he thought he would do anything else to have it on him again. He’d chop off the hand of anyone else who tried to touch him if it meant forgetting what she made him sense. With her standing in front of him, he could have all of that. However, he knows how fragile her heart is and he can’t be the one to accidentally break it. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about Y/N. I like Amanda and I’m going on a date with her. What else would all of this be for? You and I are purely friends and I value that friendship.” 

A dagger to her back isn’t the word for what this feels like. It’s more accurate to say that he put a bag over her head and held it there to leave her gasping for air. This is why she doesn’t believe in love. Because right when a person thinks they have it, the universe rips it away from them in some cruel act. It’s what happened to her mother and it is what’s happening to her at this moment. She fights back the swell that is trying to burst through her tear ducts. She steps away from him, inching toward the front door. Her head swivels to the side and she watches the potted plant on the side sway with the wind. “Right, friends. How could I be so wrong? I mean what would I know about love if I’ve never been in it? I’m going to go. Good luck on your date,” she apologizes, leaving without letting him say another word. Once she is gone, Rafe doesn’t know how he keeps himself upright. His head feels dizzy and his heart is being put through a shredder. He had to do it. There is no happy ending for them. Not for two people who have no idea what it is to be in love.

———

A month with Amanda was one month too long. Every date they went on further proved the mistake he made the day of their first date. He tried to be the boyfriend she deserved. Tried to fall in love with her. Just because it started as a dare, doesn’t mean it can’t be more for him. Nothing he did could make that sentiment true. His mind was occupied with someone else. With someone, he is trying to protect by lying about how he truly feels about her. This was wrong though and he knew how he could fix it. “And my dress to the party is going to be light pink, so I need your tie to mat-” Amanda can’t finish her thought cause Rafe interrupts her. “I think we should break up.” Her lips move to form soundless words. “Wh-what do you mean?” she cries with her bottom lip quivering. “We aren’t working out. I think it’s best that we break up,” he justifies. He gets up from the table and jogs out of the coffee shop to his car. If they never dated, then he couldn’t break her heart. Except it also meant he didn’t get to spend any more doughnut days. He didn’t get any more afternoons watching The Good Place. He didn’t go to The Wreck out of fear of seeing her. Getting those moments with her is worth the possibility of ending up unhappy because then he would have the good memories they made to keep him company. Mistakes can be made and they can also be fixed. 

———

Topper and Kelce talk at the booth in the corner, pausing every time Y/N gets close to them. She pays no real attention to them whilst she cleans the table around them. She focuses on finishing her task so she can go home when her shift finishes in ten minutes.  Once she finishes wiping down the table, she picks up the bus tub and starts to head toward the kitchen. Her hand goes for her phone, which makes her realize she left her phone on the chair back there. She spins to get it and catches the back end of the boys’ conversation. “I mean not only does he call her a dog, but he also compared her fuckability to a bag of potatoes and the universe is still like ‘Yeah, sure. She’ll help you win 10K by helping you get a date with her best friend.’ I mean how is that fair.” The tub at the side of her hip clatters on the ground, causing the friends to turn in her direction. “Shit,” Topper whispers. She storms toward them and slams her hands against the table, “Tell me everything.” And for fear of their dicks, they divulge every single detail about that night at the bonfire. 

———

Thanks to Sarah, who asked Kiara, Rafe knew that Y/N was working today and that her shift was about to end. He leans up against the truck, waiting for her to exit the restaurant. He thinks against putting her bike in his truck already, so she doesn’t feel obligated to talk to him. He pushes off of the side of the truck as soon as he catches sight of her walking down the wooden ramp. He frowns the closer she gets because he can now clearly see that she is touching her face to wipe away tears. Anger fills him at the thought of someone hurting his Petite Louve. He wants to harm whoever did this to her. 

He rushes to the end of the ramp, “Petite Louve, who did this to you?” He restrains himself from pulling her into a hug; instead, he waits for her to blanket herself in his hold. She freezes at his voice, chuckling at his appearance. “Oh, I didn’t know you cared about me again. Thought you would be too busy basking in the glory of your Beautiful to care for someone who can be out fucked by potatoes,” she growls, furiously digging her palms into her eyes to get rid of her tears. She refuses to let him see her vulnerable again. His eyes widen as words he said so long ago are repeated back to him. His hand drags down his mouth, “Who told you that?” “Does it really matter when it’s your words that are causing me pain?” she counters. His hands ghost her shoulders with a shake. “You don’t know the full story,” he argues, running his hands through his hair. She chortles, “So the full story isn’t that you called me a dog and said that I wasn’t attractive before using me to win a bet that would hurt my best friends. And you LIED about it. You made me so much worse of a friend than I thought I was.” “What I said doesn’t mean anything. It was all a lie. It was before… before I knew who you truly were,” he croaks, knowing this isn’t going to end as he thought it would. 

“It’s either a lie or said because you didn’t know me. Choose one because neither of those things is acceptable to me. And to think that I thought I was actually falling in love with you. You go ahead and prove that everything I thought about love is true.”

“You were falling for me?”

“No. I don’t believe in love, so I guess my brain was a little confused. How could it think that someone so selfish and self-centred could be the one for me?”

He knows that her words are true and are merely a fraction of her agony at the revelation. He is left gapping like a fish, searching for any word that would convey how sorry he is for everything. She isn’t satisfied by his wordless scramble, so she gets onto her bike. She doesn’t look back at him as she rides back home. “Fuck,” he yells once she is finally out of sight. He kicks the tire of his car. Topper and Kelce sheepishly come out, discussing how they are going to reveal this all to Rafe. For all they know, Rafe is in love with Amanda. They stop in their tracks. “Rafe…What are you doing here?” Topper frets, approaching the boy hesitantly. Rafe’s eyes burn into their souls, “WHO TOLD HER?” “It was an accident man. We’re sorry. Maybe she won’t tell Amanda,” Kelce hopes. Rafe’s hand tugs at the strands of his hair, “I don’t fucking care about Amanda. Y/N is torn up about what happened and she hates me even more than before. I was about to try to fix everything and now because of you two shitheads, I have no chance.” He slams the car door entering it, cursing why he had to screw this up in the first place.

———

Y/N had to tell Amanda the truth. She isn’t like Rafe; she can’t lie to the people she cares about. “I’m so sorry, Babe. I understand if you don’t want to be friends. I would hate myself too. I just hope you can forgive me for what I have done,” she begs with tears in her eyes. Amanda’s hand cups her friend’s, “I love you and it’s the past.” Y/N looks at Amanda with big eyes.

“You are too forgiving.”

“Or maybe you aren’t forgiving enough. Your mom forgave your dad a long time ago, so why shouldn’t I forgive you?” 

“Are you back onto this again? You think I should forgive my dad.” 

“He needs a chance, not forgiveness. From the moment you were old enough, you hated your dad. He has never gotten the chance to show you that he loves you. I mean, have you ever asked your mom how she feels now about everything?” 

Y/N stiffens, taking in the suggestion her best friend gave. Amanda continues at Y/N’s silence, “Because I have, Y/N/N. She said that in the moment, it felt horrible. But… as she got older, she realized that it was the right choice. Their relationship was the product of an affair, so she would’ve never been able to trust him if they got married.” “I… uhh… I never knew she felt that way,” Y/N admits, bowing her head in shame. Amanda squeezes Y/N’s hand, “That’s okay. You do now, therefore it means you can change. Give your dad a chance. Now, tell me what is going on with you and Rafe?” “Nothing has been going on with him,” Y/N lies. Amanda giggles, “I’m your best friend. I know when you are lying.” “Fine, I thought that I was falling for him. It was a mistake. He was just using me to get to you. I let him convince me to hurt you and I was such a bad friend for that,” Y/N reasons. Amanda shakes her head, “Please stop beating yourself up over that. As for Rafe, I think it turned into something so much more than getting your help with me.” “Why would you say that?” Y/N inquiries with a tilt of her head. “He broke up with me earlier tonight and he seemed to be on a mission when he left. From what you told me, he was going to tell you something,” Amanda starts to illuminate. “Plus, I know people think that I’m clueless, but I could tell his mind was occupied by someone else during our relationship. He always wanted to watch The Good Place while eating powdered jelly doughnuts. In hindsight, that should’ve been my indicators as to who he was thinking about.”

Y/N looks at her best friend with glassy eyes, “Really?” “Yeah, I would go along with it because it made me feel like I was hanging out with you. And I like hanging out with you too,” Amanda confesses, looking down with a smile. Y/N is touched by her soul sister’s words and pulls Amanda into a hug, “That was so sweet. You know you are more intelligent than people give you credit for and I’m sorry I don’t realize that more often.” “It’s okay. And I know I’m smart. I also know that you need someone to take care of.” Amanda kisses her friend’s forehead and they remain in each other’s grasp for the rest of the night. 

———

After seeing her for the first time in a month, Rafe didn’t know how he lived without her. What they had was so brief, yet it burned so brightly in his mind. He keeps reliving the memory of them in his mind and it makes his heartache that he doesn’t have more with her. He has to make this right with her for his sanity and his heart. He can’t relive the past; he has to find a way to make a future for them possible. This leads him to the one person in the world who will know how to fix everything. It kinda feels like an ironic full circle to him. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now after I broke your heart. But I really do need your help,” he pleads to Amanda, who is in her backyard tanning. Her eyes find him through her sunglasses, “I’m more pissed off that you hurt Y/N more than anything you did to me.” “Right, right. I can understand why you feel that way. What I did to both of you was shitty,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. She shrugs, “It was. I thought she was finally coming around to the idea of love and now, thanks to you, she feels like she has direct confirmation that it isn’t real.” “I’m sorry.” She scoffs, “Sorry isn’t exactly going to fix what you did.” 

“I know. I’ll do anything to get your forgiveness. And I want to show Y/N that love is really because… Because I love her.”

Amanda sits up completely at the new revelation, “You love her?” “I do. I can’t get her out of my head. I wake up and I’m thinking about her. I go to sleep and I’m thinking about her. Every moment in between I spend beating myself up for letting her go,” he rants, tearing up at the thought of this not going where he wants to go. She crosses her arms, “Well, I want you to be beating yourself up forever.” “Don’t you also want to see Y/N happy?” he counters. 

“I do. And that’s what do you want to do? Make her happy?”

“I want to make her the happiest fucking person in the world and I would give up anything in the world for that to happen.” 

“Fine, I’ll help you. If you hurt her though, I will have my father pull out of the deal with yours and absolutely take down Cameron Development. It’s my turn to be protective of her.” 

Rafe nods, “I would deserve so much more than that if I hurt Y/N. Now, how many rom-coms am I going to have to watch and do you have doughnuts for while we are watching them?” 

———

Y/N couldn’t believe she was considering doing this right now. She’s walked up and down the driveway so many times that she seriously thinks she should get on her bike and leave. The door swinging open stops her from escaping the situation. “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Willard steps outside and rushes to check on his daughter. She steps back to stay away from her father’s touch. “I’m fine, Dad. Can I ask you a question?” she cuts to the chase. Willard’s head moves up and down, “Of course. Anything, Kiddo.” “Did you really love Mom?” she spews, eyes glued to her hands playing with themselves. His eyes are slightly wide as he answers, “I did. I regret lying and causing her pain, especially since it meant losing the chance to be your father.” “Why did you do it then?” she pushes further, needing all the answers as to why her father broke their family apart before they could become one. He stares at her for a second, “Life is complicated. I had an affair with your mother when my marriage was showing signs of problems. I was young and thought that running from my problems was the solution. When I found out about you, I realized I had to grow up. So I went back home, worked on my marriage, and focused on earning money to help provide for you.” 

“I was the reason why you broke Mom’s heart?” she whimpers, an awful feeling growing in her stomach at the thought of risking her mother’s love life. Willard shakes his head, “No, none of this is your fault, Kiddo. I was the idiot who broke your mother’s heart. It was never your fault, so don’t think that for even a second.” “Right. Well, thank you for answering my questions,” she states, backing away from her father with her head down low. He scrambles after his daughter, “Wait, is that all you wanted to talk about?” She falls in a standstill. “No… I was thinking that maybe we could go out together sometime. I think that I want to give our relationship a chance.” Willard grins, “Of course, I’m free right now if you want to go out for a late lunch.” “I can work with that,” she agrees.

———

Lunch with her father worked quite well and her mom was glad that it did. “I think it’s great that you are trying to have a relationship with your dad. The resentment you had for him wasn’t healthy,” Cordelia praises her daughter, bringing her into a hug. Y/N smiles at her mom, “Yeah, it was fun. Although, I still don’t think I want him paying for uni if he doesn’t have to. I want to try having a little bit of my own independence.” “I think that’s great, Baby. Remember that your father and I are always here to help you if you need it,” Cordelia assures. A knock at the door pulls them apart. “I’ll get it.” Her mother leaves her bedroom, so she flops back on her bed with a sigh. “Y/N, you have a guest,” the mother announces from downstairs. Y/N groans because she is just getting comfortable. She rolls out of bed and falls on the floor with a grunt. Her hair is a little chaotic, yet doesn’t bother to fix it. The echo of her weight jumping from stair to stair is the only one that can be heard throughout the house. “Babe, I didn’t know you were coming ov-” Y/N starts, thinking Amanda is at the door because it is the only plausible answer. She ceases once she lays a sight on who it is. “You have a lot of balls coming here,” she says with her hand coming down on her jutted-out hip. 

Rafe gives her a sheepish smile, “I know. Could we talk?” Y/N huffs, thinking about her new streak of giving people chances. She turns to her mother, who is standing near the door. “You guys probably want privacy. I really don’t want to; however, I will be going to the store to get more… eggs?” Cordelia excuses herself, taking her purse and keys to head to the store. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out now that they are alone. Her eyebrows raise, “Is that all you wanted to say?” “No, it’s just the beginning of everything I have to say. I wanted to give you a chance to back out,” he acknowledges. 

She motions with her hands for him to continue. “Lying to you so it risked your relationship with Amanda was horrible. I’m glad that you guys are still friends. It was also terrible that thing that I said about sex and potatoes. It was out of line. I’m sorry and don’t believe that it is true. Those weren’t my biggest mistakes though. My biggest mistake was telling you that we didn’t have any chemistry. Because we fucking do. We have a whole chemistry lab. Test tubs and drugs and all,” he raves. She doesn’t want to giggle, except that the comparison he made was too good not to laugh at. “You know people normally equate chemistry with sparks or fireworks,” she faults, turning her head to the side so he can’t see her amusement. He chuckles with her, “I don’t think we can be considered as normal. I’m an idiot who messes everything up half of the time and you are a stubborn girl who doesn’t believe in love.” “So you’re saying that all girls have to believe in love,” she chides. Rafe panics, “No, I didn’t mean it like that I… uh.” 

“It’s fine, stopping blubbering like a fish out of water,” she commands. His mouth closes and he scratches the back of his neck. “I see you haven’t lost your bark,” he comments. 

“If I lose my bark, then I wouldn’t be me.”

“Right, petite louves always have a bark.”

“Wolves don’t bark. They howl.”

“Okay, I think we are a little off track.”

She shuts up at his words, waiting for him to continue. Silence fills the room as Rafe gets everything off of his chest. “That’s all you want to say?” she confirms. His mouth ups and closes before he nods. “It’s my turn to talk. One. I don’t really care about the potato thing. I’m a virgin so I don’t expect to have any sort of skill in that department. Two. You are lucky Amanda forgave me or else your dick would be hammered to my bike. Three. I tried to open up to you and you lied to me. How am I supposed to trust you after that?” she tirades. Rafe hmms, “Those are all valid points. And I hope maybe you can trust me by letting me show you that I truly love you.” “You don’t love me. You just think you do. Love doesn’t exist,” she reveals. Rafe objects, “I think that you changed your mind on it and are too scared to admit that you did.” “Yeah because look where believing in love landed me. Almost losing my best friend and my heart felt like it just got crushed by an anvil,” she fires back with venom laced in her words. A crooked smile forms on his lips, “So you admit that you do love me.” “I-I… umm. That’s not wh-... um,” she babbles, trying to untie herself from the net he caught her in. 

He takes this as a chance to step closer to her, “Now, look who is the fish, Petite Louve.” He perceives the way her breath stops falling on his skin and a sense of victory finds its way through him. She stares up at him with a dumbfounded look, trying to think of a comeback. Rather than doing so, she falls victim to her own desires and pulls him down so her lips can meet his. His arms grip her waist, just above her bum to pull her closer to him. Their kiss deepens and suddenly, air isn’t something they need. A cough from the front door ends the motion of their lips. Their heads press together as they see who is there. Cordelia gives the pair a bashful smile, “Sorry, I forgot my phone.” 

They wait for her to get her phone from the kitchen. “Rafe, you are staying for dinner when I get back. I also look forward to hearing your apology to me for hurting my baby girl,” Cordelia proclaims, closing the door at the last word. Y/N steps away from him, examining the hardwood floor to gather her thoughts. “This doesn’t mean that everything is completely fine between us. You don’t get to earn my trust back with the snap of your fingers,” she discloses, toeing at the floor with the point of her foot. Rafe’s head bobs, “Definitely, I understand. It will take at least a thousand strawberry jelly doughnuts for that.” She gives him a shove, laughing through her nose. “It’s going to take a lot more than doughnuts for what you have to do,” she adds. “I know. I am prepared to give you all the jelly doughnuts in the world and so much more to help you truly believe in love.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[laughingcorvuswrites]

On the Princess, the Maid, and the Knight

Princess, Maid, Knight. Traditionally, these three organisms are considered as separate species, occasionally even genus, that simply have arranged themselves into a sort of eusocial symbiosis due to their communion with one another despite the significant morphological differences. However, a recent hypothesis that is gaining traction is that the Maid and Princess are actually separate members of a highly dimorphic species. However, OUR hypothesis goes a step further to propose that not only do all three share a singular genus, but are actually the same eusocial species, with the trimorphism(quadrumorphism if you include the young Knights referred to alternatively as “Scouts” or “Squires”, typically based on their apparent role relative to more senior members) between the three groupings developing due to their role within the group.

For example, the Maid’s role is typically to labor within the community, keeping things tidy and providing for the Princess, while also providing a layer of protection against both intruders who may pass the Knights, as well as inferior suitors. The Princess, meanwhile, may appear to have the role of leadership, but it appears the role is more symbolic than actual, as any command she appears to give that her inner circle(sometimes colloquially called the “Handmaids”, or more rarely, “Ladies in Waiting”, though there is some discourse as to whether the term would actually apply.) disagrees with will not be carried out. Instead it would be amended to a more appropriate command for the rest to carry out. A Princess that is displeased with this(as they often are) will generally respond with a ‘hmph’, but yield to the wisdom of their Handmaids.

The Knight, as is above implied, has the role of Primary and Secondary defense for the community, both patrolling their primary territory as well as standing guard over their domicile. Younger Knights are typically split into the subgroups “Squire” and “Scout”. The Squire takes on a Maid-like role to their Knight, typically a small number of Squires(as few as one in most cases, though communities with a population boom may have 2 or more to a Knight) per Knight. The Squire will tend to their Knight’s mount, arms, and gear, ensuring none are tarnished and all properly honor their shared Lady(the Princess). This both takes the somewhat specialized labor off the Maid’s responsibilities, as well as familiarizes the Squire with the ins and outs of their future role. Some Squires have also been spotted transitioning to become a Maid instead of a Knight(indeed, this observation was the origin of this hypothesis).

The Scout is the rarest member of the community(some may call the community ‘the Hive’, referring to how it resembles the hive of many eusocial insects, especially the domesticated European honeybee), but appears to be most closely related to the Knight. A Scout’s role within the Community is similar to the Knight in that it provides security for all, especially the Princess, but uniquely the focus is on spending extended periods away from the Community within the outer territory. The Scout’s purpose seems to be a combination of scouting out new food sources, warding off intruders before they reach the Community proper, and warning the community and especially the Knights of any threat before it reaches the primary territory.

The Morphism between the different organism-types seems to be fully based on their role. The Princess wears fine, typically ornate garbs(most often dresses in the medieval European and rococo styles, though exceptions of all sort have been reported, often based on the garbs human princesses would wear. Whether this is mimicry of the humans on their part, or mimicry of the Princess on our part is unknown. It could simply be a queer coincidence) complete with jewelry and tiara. Meanwhile, the maid typically wears a uniformed garb primarily in black with a white apron and accents, with a small frilled headress in imitation of the Princess’s tiara. The exact length and design varies from Hive to Hive, from the practical to the practically pornographic. The Knight typically will wear the colors of their Princess(ie, the colors of the Hive), with clothes chosen for practicality more than show. As a result, they tend to be more drab than the other two groups, but when they receive the call to combat they dress in ornate armor donned with the aid of their Squire(or Maids, should there be insufficient Squires), bedecked still with the crest and colors of their dear Princess. For their parts, Squires and Scouts will typically dress more simply still than their Knights. the Squires dressing in the same colors as the Knight, simply less ornately(not uncommonly in clothes passed down from their Knights), while Scouts often dress in simple, resilient clothing that nevertheless doesn’t reflect badly on their Hive. If the Princess has colors that function as camouflage in their local environs, they’ll don them, but otherwise will only carry the Hive’s Crest on their person.

Upon further observation, we observed that in the absence of a Princess, one other member of the community will be elevated to the position(typically but not always a Maid, though curiously one of lower seniority), dolled up in finery once forbidden to them, and placed up on the throne to be doted on by her sisters. Likewise, we have seen rare communal drift between the Maid and Knight roles, though it’s more likely an Apprentice Maid or Squire will transition rather than an experienced member of the class. It seems that through mechanisms like this, the community retains its social balance.

Interhive combat is rare and seems to be more about maintaining cross-hive social connections and gene exchange more than territorial control. Generally it’s highly ritualize and while the Melee between knights can get potential brutal, we have yet to observe a single death during or as a result of this ritualized combat. While the Knight’s equipment and shine of its armor seems to have a strong use in intimidation to avoid combat where possible(especially important for intraspecies conflict in other species), it seems to have little effect on the Melee but to rank individual Knights relative to one another, so each can quickly figure out the best opponent. As mentioned, thanks to the dutiful care of the Maids, there have been no reported casualties, but there have been…other inter-hive activities that follow.

Intrahive combat is similarly ritualized, but often lacks the pomp and pageantry that an Interhive event(often called a ’Tournament’ after the events of Medieval Europe that they so closely resemble). And as it doesn’t facilitate extra-hive genetic exchange, it’s believed to be more about retaining and refining the skills of the Knights and Maids, as well as to act as a ‘release valve’ for building pressure or conflict before it rises to potentially deadly levels. These combats don’t always involve physical violence, as everything from chess to a children’s card game has also been noted, especially between classes. That said, on at least three separate occasions, we have observed one member of the Hive taunt another to spark a fight, before immediately throwing(albeit sometimes putting up a good show first) and presenting itself to the ‘victor’. This seems to be a type of role-play between them, and we can’t rule out it occurring outside our observations either in this hive, or in others.

(one brave researcher managed to infiltrate the community as a Maid and while he will be missed, she seems significantly happier now. We would ask the reader to not attempt to contact her or her family)

[tare-anime]

SxF Mission 112-1

(Beware spoilers)

After a very short chapter last time, now we have a two parter? 🤣🤣 Endo really doesn't want to stick to chapter length's rule, eh? (/j)

Anyway, right of the bat, we get "The Mood"

I feel you, Anya.... I feel youuuu 😣😣😣😣

Anyway, it's a bit bittersweet to see how Anya, the precious child that needs to be protected at all cost, does not react well to open affection.

Or maybe that's her feeling guilty for making her parents' worry unecessarily.

She IS a good girl after all 🥰🥰🥰

And then we get to know Anya's new classmates. Though, thankfully Anya is not completely sepparated from Becky.

So many new faces 😵 my old brain really has trouble in memorizing these new kids names (the girls finally got name dropped, btw. They've been there since chapter 5 lol).

And each of these new kids has unique traits.

The scary morbid megane girl, the fortune teller kid, the hoolingan, and the prince from abroad kingdom.

Whoaaa.....

So there ARE small kingdoms AROUND Ostania, eh??? 👀👀

So, "Anya being a lost princess from an extincted kingdom" theory is not too far fetched, eh??? 👀👀

Ahem.

Anyway in a prestige school like Eden, we got a hoolingan kid who uses unbutoned outer, and an snotty rich foreigner kid with funny hairdo.

Will Endo turns Eden chapter into a typical school shonen gags??? 🤣🤣

Anyway, there were 2 typoos that could lead to misunderstandings.

First,

From Indonesian translation, this supossed to be "It's not un-usual for foreign dignitaries to study abroad at Eden."

And second,

Jeeves has nothing to do with Kingdom of Septevia. From Indonesian translation, this is Teru calling help from his senior butler whom he called "grandfather".

[lunatiics]

i know i like dancing with you (pt. 1) | buttking

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Kori King is destined for prom queen. Lydia B. Kollins can't stand it.

A/N: HAPPY LYDIA WIN WEEK!!

—

Even if, by some improbable chance, you didn’t already know who Kori King was, there was no escaping her face this morning. Dozens of posters featuring a photo of the smiling blonde cheerleader underneath the words “KORI’S KINGDOM” were plastered across the front doors of Lydia’s high school, impossible to ignore. 

Lydia fought an eye roll as she pulled open a door. “Another year of prom campaigning begins,” she muttered to herself, hiking her leather bag up on her shoulder. The words were lost in the chaos of the hallway as students chatted by the stairs, slammed lockers shut, and made their way to first period. 

It’s not that Lydia hated prom. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She hated anything conventional, anything contrived, anything predictable. And the annual senior prom campaigns were as predictable as they came: a handful of students would campaign—through posters, morning announcements, and even some light bribery. But in the end, a football player and a cheerleader always won. Every. Single. Year. A picture-perfect, heteronormative fantasy wrapped up in a cheap satin bow.

Lydia sighed again as she made her way through the crowd. Someone had taped smaller versions of Kori’s poster onto every other locker in the main hallway. Just in case the ten-foot tall collage outside wasn’t enough.

The thing was, Lydia could theoretically get behind the pageantry of it all—the extravagant gowns, the sharply tailored suits, the delicate corsages. If only her classmates had an ounce of originality. She swore to herself she’d end it all if she saw another sweetheart neckline or pastel pink gown. Where was the concept? The drama? The taste? Would it kill anyone else to pull a gothic reference now and then? Or dye their choppy hair black? Or even apply an ungodly amount of blush?

Sure, Lydia was probably biased. But it felt like nobody besides her seemed to care about anything remotely artistic. Apart from Suzie, of course.

Suzie, Lydia’s best friend, was a living homage to the 1920s. She floated through the halls in vintage thrifted dresses, deep lipsticks, and the occasional beaded headband. Suzie certainly turned heads, though not always in admiration. But at least she was committed to something unique and authentic. At least she was expressing herself unabashedly and openly. It was what Lydia admired most about her: on the outside and from within, Suzie was 100% Suzie. It was how Lydia wished she was, too.

Lydia often wondered what it would be like to be fearless, not to care what people thought. She dressed the part—leather jackets, fishnets, and combat boots—but that was easy. Her clothing and makeup, while an authentic expression of herself, sometimes felt like a costume, a mask covering up her insecurities and vulnerability. She was teased for her clothes (not as much as Suzie), but it didn’t hurt her. She’d rather be made fun of for her outer appearance than her inner identity. It was the reason she hadn’t come out to anyone but Suzie. 

It wasn’t easy being the only queer goth girl in a sea of preppy athletes, not that Lydia would ever admit it. But that’s how the world worked, it seemed. The football players and the cheerleaders won the crowns and the scepters while everyone else clapped and cheered. People like Lydia were expected to stand in the back, in the shadows, next to the spiked punch bowl (courtesy of Lana and Arrietty, notorious for their pranks and somehow never getting caught). If you were different and drew too much attention to yourself, that’s when you became a problem and had to be put in your place.

Lydia clenched her jaw as she reached her locker, Kori’s poster taped right in the center. The worst part? It wasn’t even Kori herself that Lydia despised; she didn’t even really know Kori. The whole system grated on Lydia’s nerves; the way this school was run by the same types of boring straight people over and over again.

Lydia ripped Kori’s poster off her locker and crumpled it in her hand. Needless to say, Kori King was going to be prom queen. No doubt about that.

—

Kori’s posters seemed to reach every inch of her school, causing Lydia’s prom-fueled annoyance to stay with her throughout first period, and second, and into lunch. Her irritated mood was palpable as she plopped down next to Suzie at their usual table (back left corner of the cafeteria) and groaned. “I fucking hate it here.”

“Happy Monday to you, too,” Suzie said, taking a bite of her salad. She was in classic Suzie attire today: lacy black gloves that stretched up her arm and a knee-length beaded dress. “Let me guess, the kingdom’s pissing you off?”

Lydia scoffed, shrugging off her leather jacket covered in safety pins (yes, constructed by herself, thank you very much). “What else? It’s just so tired, another straight blonde girl winning prom queen. What a surprise.”

It was times like these that Lydia was ecstatic she was in her senior year, just a few months from graduating and leaving this town in the dust. She had a spot at Parsons waiting for her, and each day, she was closer to packing up her sewing machine and moving to New York. In New York, Lydia could be herself without fear of what anyone thought. It had been her dream for as long as she could remember and would soon be a reality. Not soon enough.

Suzie laughed. “What do you expect? Someone like you or me to win? I think the world would freeze over.”

Lydia scrunched her nose in disgust. “That would mean actually running and having to suck up to all these idiots for votes. Kill me.”

A loud laugh rang across the room, pulling Lydia’s attention from Suzie. But before she even looked over her shoulder, Lydia already knew whose it was.

A few tables away, Kori sat in the middle of the cafeteria, her swooping blonde ponytail peeking above the other students. She was surrounded by the rest of the senior cheerleaders—Jewels, Lana, Arrietty, and Crystal—all in matching pink and orange uniforms. Jewels was in the middle of saying something the other girls apparently found unbearably hilarious, and their laughs reverberated across the cafeteria, Kori’s above them all.

Of course, they all sat there, Lydia thought. God forbid the attention not be on them for a single second.

But before Lydia could turn back around, Kori’s eyes met hers. 

As much as it pained Lydia to admit it, Kori King had a presence. She was tall, confident, and popular. Something about that trifecta made people undeniably drawn to her, and as Kori’s brown eyes locked onto Lydia’s blue, she felt the magnetism of the cheerleader latch onto her. To her fury, not even Lydia was immune to Kori’s charm.

The rest of the girls at Kori’s table continued talking, but Kori had stopped laughing. A hint of a smile stayed on her face as she stared at Lydia. There was something smug in Kori’s gaze, like she knew exactly why Lydia was looking. Kori was probably used to it, people staring at her. Not like they stared at Lydia and Suzie, no, but with awe, admiration, and jealousy. 

And usually, desire. 

Kori always had a string of senior boys pining after her. Lydia wasn’t surprised; Kori was hot (yes, Lydia could admit it, she wasn’t blind), and you could tell Kori knew it. But as far as Lydia knew, Kori had never been in a relationship. She probably thought she was too good for anyone, Lydia guessed.

But Lydia refused to let Kori think she was better than her. So Lydia held Kori’s gaze over her shoulder, unflinching. 

Kori tilted her head slightly, a slow smile spreading across her face. Lydia bristled, ready to scowl in return. But then Kori’s eyes flicked downward—taking in her body.

As always, Lydia had made her outfit, finishing the final stitches this weekend. Her dress was a deep, moody purple, slightly sheer (but not enough to get dress-coded). It fit her perfectly, hugging her waist and hips, and she’d paired it with her signature platform boots. Lydia knew she looked good, at least, in her opinion. But the way Kori’s gaze lingered, her smirk deepening just a little, sent an unexpected blush to Lydia’s already pink cheeks.

If Lydia didn’t know any better, she would think Kori was checking her out.

Lydia quickly turned around, palms sweaty, too flustered to feel irritated that she looked away first. Suzie hadn’t noticed Lydia’s distraction and was in the middle of some rant about a documentary she had watched. Lydia nodded along, pretending to listen while she ate her sandwich. But her heart was pounding. 

She tried to push Kori’s hypnotizing gaze out of her mind for the rest of lunch. It was probably nothing. It was just her imagination, right? Why would Kori King have any interest in Lydia B. Kollins?

Be fucking for real.

—

As the week passed, Lydia became certain she had imagined that moment with Kori. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. By Friday afternoon, as she stood in line at Dunkin’, the idea was laughable. 

She was just messing with you, Lydia convinced herself. Are you that desperate that you’re now imagining girls being into you? 

Honestly, maybe. It was one of the worst parts of being in the closet. Besides a short fling at a summer program in New York (anyone who willingly signed up for a three-week fashion camp in Brooklyn was most likely gay), Lydia hadn’t had the chance to properly date anyone or explore her sexuality. As far as Lydia knew, there were no other lesbians at her school, not even Suzie, despite the incessant rumors that she and Suzie were together. But no, Suzie was more like the rest of them than Lydia: straight as a board.

In New York, it would be different. It had to be.

—

Lydia always treated herself to a cold brew at the end of the week. It was a little tradition she had with herself, another five days in the books and closer to getting out. The small upstate town she lived in barely had anything outside of a grocery store and CVS, but it did have a Dunkin’, which was where Lydia found herself this afternoon.

As Lydia waited in line, she stared at a flyer on the wall advertising a new drink: a mango pineapple refresher. She never strayed from her typical order, but she had to admit, it looked good.

“Oh, that’s too good,” a voice said from behind Lydia, echoing her thoughts.

Lydia froze. Just like her laugh, Kori King’s voice was unmistakable.

Lydia’s pulse jumped as she turned and was face-to-face with the cheerleader standing behind her in quintessential Kori form. Dressed in her uniform, she had a duffle bag with their school’s logo embroidered on it slung over her shoulder, and her long blonde hair was swept back off her face. A sheer coat of gloss sparkled on her full lips, and this close, Lydia could see Kori’s deep skin was clear and flawless. If her presence wasn’t overwhelming enough, Kori’s height made all Lydia’s thoughts flee from her mind. It was one thing to see Kori on a poster or across the cafeteria. But standing right next to her? Right over her? Yeah, like it or not, Lydia was fucking intimated. 

Kori pointed a manicured finger at the flyer on the wall. “It’s my go-to drink. I’m such a drink girl. Swear by it.”

Lydia stared at Kori, speechless. She hated how fast her heart was beating. She hated how paralyzed she was in Kori’s presence. Kori wasn’t a celebrity. She was a girl, just a girl who happened to be extremely popular and (objectively speaking, not from Lydia’s personal opinion, of course) beautiful. She was just a girl who was weirdly enough being nice to Lydia, and standing a few feet from Lydia, and now looking directly at Lydia with her big brown eyes that seemed to hypnotize Lydia the more she looked into them. 

Say something, Lydia yelled at herself. Anything!

“Oh,” Lydia spit out. “I- I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I usually come later in the day,” Kori explained. “After practice. But it got canceled today. Jewels got hurt, so we couldn’t practice our stunts.” She smiled. “So here I am.”

Yes, here she was, Lydia thought. She managed a small smile back, trying to find any kind of response to offer. But Kori beat her to it.

“I like your outfit,” Kori said, gesturing to Lydia’s dress with her chin. “Very cute.”

Lydia looked down at what she was wearing. It was a piece she was pretty proud of that she had made a few months ago: a slinky black dress with lacy sleeves. “Thanks,” Lydia said, looking back up at Kori. “I made it.”

“You made that?” Kori’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. That’s crazy. I hate sewing. I could never.” 

“No, I bet you could,” Lydia offered, her smile widening. “It’s easy if you know what you want to make.” Was this happening? Was she actually having a conversation with Kori King?

Kori shook her head emphatically, waving her hand in the air. “No way. Not my thing. Also, I wear my uniform pretty much every day, so I don’t even know what I’d want to make.” Kori paused. “I honestly have no idea what my style is. It kind of sucks.”

This surprised Lydia. She assumed wearing the cheer uniform would be a kind of protection that Kori would enjoy. To be a part of a group, to be synonymous with each other, no matter how contrived and basic, seemed somewhat enviable to Lydia. There was safety in numbers. She guessed Kori would have felt empowered to be surrounded by people like her.

She said this much to Kori before she could stop herself. “I thought you’d like being just one of the cheerleaders. I mean, you’re all the same.”

There was an excruciating silence. Except for Lydia’s heart, which she was positive Kori could hear beating out of her chest. Fuck, Lydia thought. Was that horrible to say?

Her mind raced as the silence lingered. To be fair, Kori was never the one who made fun of Suzie and Lydia. That was mostly Arrietty and the football players. And Kori was talking to Lydia now—she was the one who had started the conversation with her, which was more than any of the other girls had ever done. God, Lydia thought. What’s happening to me?

“I’m sorry,” Lydia blurted out. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I didn’t really mean it in any type of way. I just…” She trailed off, lost for words again.

After a few more seconds, Kori spoke. “We’re not all the same,” Kori said in the quietest voice Lydia had ever heard her speak. “Not all of us.”

Lydia opened her mouth to respond, but a “next!” from the barista working the cash register cut her off.

“You’re up,” Kori said, her bubbly energy deflated.

Lydia closed her mouth and nodded, turning around. She could barely get her order out and fumbled as she dug cash out of her bag. Without looking at Kori, and rushed out of the Dunkin’ as soon as her cold brew was in her hands. 

Slamming the door to her car shut, Lydia collapsed in the driver’s seat, letting out a breath. What the fuck just happened? She thought. Kori King was talking to her. Kori King liked her outfit. Kori King… was upset that Lydia thought she was just like the other cheerleaders?

It made no sense. Nothing about any of that made sense. Lydia started her car and pulled out of the parking lot, her head spinning with questions she assumed she’d never have an answer to. 

The look on Kori’s face haunted Lydia for the rest of the day. She seemed more than hurt, she seemed… was it offended? Disgusted? Betrayed? Lydia didn’t know. But if she could wipe the image from her mind, she would.

If Kori never acknowledged Lydia again, she wouldn’t be surprised.

[pdpenpals]

omg wait i had the biggest crush on garroth growing up, could you write something for pdh garroth? I don't want to steal the confession idea from the other anon but the idea of garroth giving a letter after going 'oh wow I'm late for baseball practice haha! come see me after you read that!--' is so cute

OMG

YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT THIS REMINDS ME OF

THIS VIDEO FOR SOME REASON

also did you know i actually rewrote my own science notes digitally from last year for this request’s header

lol, hope you like it, nonnie! this one's built a little different for the sake of the #narrative.

sir raymond (he insists you use his nickname) always has an unhinged tale or two from his youth (he’s still in his mid-20s) up his sleeve, but the class doesn’t mind it with how he always manages to link it back to earth science, your last class of the week (well, before club period). he graduated from the university bordering phoenix drop, and he’s currently reminiscing about how he and his mates used to cling to its outer gates and hover above the sidewalk on the way there to avoid getting their clothes soaked by the flood whenever it rained (even just a little bit). it hasn’t improved for that area in ru’aun, but it’s always been like that. he should be getting back on topic in 3…2…

your train of thought is interrupted by garroth getting up from the table next to you when a senior pops by the classroom window and makes some motion that only the two of them understand. the class is used to it by now, so he’s able to quietly excuse himself and leave early for varsity duties. before you know it, his figure disappears down the hallway, basking in the afternoon sun. you’re about to chase after him to return the notebook he’s just left behind, but your name written slightly bigger than usual catches your eye.

you almost get caught zoning out when turning a page of his notebook reveals something you’re sure you’re not supposed to see. your cheeks heat up and your heart starts racing.

I’m pretending to be taking down notes, but really, I’m just writing this. Don’t get mad?

Anyway, so so sorry I can’t stick around again this period! Would it be alright to take a look at your notes during lunch period after intrams? I should be able to free up my schedule around that time now that the team doesn’t need me around when there’s no practice. The guilt is seriously eating me alive by relying on you more than I should for Earth Sci, can you not decline the next time I offer to make it up to you?

Speaking of, you should head over to the gym after club. I think the rest of the varsity teams need another pair of eyes to get them to work faster, and so we can finish event prep early. Your friends should be there too, I think? Still, I’d be happy to show you around myself! I can help you fend off anyone if they decide to annoy you.

Irene help me, I feel Sir’s stare on me right now. I’m definitely next to be called on for a question. But thanks to the Divine (I hope so), I can hear my team captain about to round the corner of the hallway outside and call me out for practice and intrams. Hope you don’t get called in my stead. Seriously. Now that’d be another thing to apologize for.

Getting off track now. Anyway! Really hope you’ll drop by later. Your company’s always welcome and such a delight to ha

Today’s To-Do:

🗹 Intrams, Log Committee

☐ ████ Application

🗹 Lunch @ Courtyard

☐ Look up ██████ & ██. ████

☐ Just confess already (keep it casual, it’s not that hard! — L.) (later after club then?)

[moonsgemini]

you’re on your own kid

summary: rafe cameron has loved his best friend through every season, but through the seasons of their senior year things start to get complicated.

warning: she/her, smoking, alcohol, angst, fluff, kissing, cheating ???, drugs, mutual pining, (let me know if I missed any)

wc: 4.7k

an: HIII! I’m really excited for these taylor swift fics bc her songs give me so many ideas. This took a while for me to finish & idk if I like the ending or honestly if I like it at all. I promise seeking arrangements is next on my list to post <3 Hope you guys enjoy !!!

rafe's version masterlist - masterlist

I wait patiently

he’s gonna notice me

it’s okay we’re the best of friends

-

summer

Of course when he walks in the party instantly feels like an actual party. It hadn’t been much of a party to her especially not with him around. These things got boring fast if he wasn’t by her side making her laugh and talking about anything and everything. Not having to worry about sleazy guys coming up to her or putting something in her drink because he always by her side. Always looking out.

Everybody loves him anyways. The way he carried himself charmed everyone, made them always want to have his attention. Sunglasses perched on his nose, even though it’s eleven at night, that big smile on his face. He’s bobbing his head to the music and greeting everyone, she can tell he’s in a good mood tonight. It puts her in a good mood, her fingers itching to greet him already.

When he finally reaches where she’s standing with a few of her friends he smiles even wider at her. Greeting everyone but always just looking at her. Moving to push his glasses up onto his head. She couldn’t help the smile that tuged at her lips as he side hugs her friends knowing that’s not what she’s going to get.

And she’s right, once he gets to her it’s all outstretched arms and gentle rocking as he hugs her tightly. She’s been away at her grandparents house in florida for the last week of summer. They had missed each other. Face times and text messages just didn’t feel like enough.

“You’re finally back,” He said once they pulled away.

She rolled her eyes playfully a teasing smile on her lips, “Were you counting down the days Cameron?”

He shrugged, “Maybe, I know you were.” That grin never leaving his lips.

“Now come on,” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders beginning to lead her to the kitchen of whoever’s house this was, “I need a drink and you need to tell me about Florida.”

“I already told you everything every day Rafe. Just sat out by the pool or on the beach,” She motioned towards her body, “got some new clothes.”

He raised his eyebrows eyeing her body, “Some very tiny clothes,” His eyes took in her mini skirt and tank top all the exposed skin doing something to him, “Any guys out there?” He didn’t look at her as he asked. Instead he grabbed a beer out of the fridge, cracking it open with his back to her.

She scoffed, “Florida boys? No thanks.”

He turned around smirking, “So just North Carolina boys for you?”

There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. Every now and then he’d give it to her and her mind would spiral on what he could be thinking. She always hoped it was the same thing she was, “Mhmm only North Carolina boys.”

-

I hear it in your voice

You're smoking with your boys

I touch my phone as if it's your face

I didn't choose this town

I dream of getting out

There's just one who could make me stay

-

fall

Everything had felt boring lately. After the summer and after the start of senior year she felt like the parties in outer banks were a waste of time. It was always the same people doing the same things. Kids too young to know what’s good for them and too young to care about the consequences of their actions. Not a care in the world knowing mommy or daddy would get you out of whatever stupid decision you made.

She’d spent most of her high school career pretending to like parties and drinking. Even tried coke once but it made her feel like her brain was rotting so never again. When in reality she’d rather be home smoking on her balcony reading a good book or hanging out with her close friends around a bonfire. It was exhausting always having to put up a front that she was this social party girl.

It took her a long time to come to the realization that she didn’t have to be what people thought of her. On figure eight it felt like everyone knew your business and everyone thought they knew you. They start seeing you at parties talking to Rafe Cameron and all of a sudden you’re some party girl with a drug problem. Once people found out Rafe quit doing coke and dealing she just became the party girl. Kook prince and kook princess always stuck to each others sides, of course she was going go gain a reputation.

Once she realized that people are going to talk regardless what she did so she stopped caring. Started staying home more. Rafe kind of hated it. Because she wasn’t there anymore. But he made it work with their busy senior schedules. Always saying he can make time for his best friend. That’s what she was. His best friend.

best friend.

Even saying it in her head made her cringe. If only he knew that she wanted something more so badly. At first she didn’t even see him that way, he truly was a great friend. He listened to all her rants about music, school, books. Rafe paid attention, he was soft with her. She didn’t understand why people always said bad things about him because he never showed those sides to her.

She sighed thinking about him, sitting on her balcony. The thought of him was brought on by everyone’s instagram stories of the party currently happening. She had opted for one of those smoke on the balcony with a good show or book nights.

As she scrolled through her phone more it began to vibrate. Rafe’s contact popping up on the top of the screen. A warm feeling spread through her stomach, maybe it was just because of the weed. She pressed the green button and brought the phone up to her ear. Admiring the little picture of him first, it was one she took right before she had left for florida. He was holding up their friends dog with a big smile on his face.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” A raspy voice said on the other line. Immediately she knew he had been smoking as well, probably with all the guys outside. He could even still be passing the joint around. He could also be smoking a cigarette outside after he’s gotten a buzz, it was his favorite thing to do after a few beers.

She put the laptop that was resting on her to the side, bringing her knees up to her chest. Leaning her head to the side on her knees she smiled softly, “Hi Rafe, you rang?”

He can hear her smile. Rafe knows her like the back of his hand.

“I did, what are you up to?” He knows exactly what she’s doing tonight even though she didn’t even tell him.

The wide grin on her lips dulling slightly, “Uh just looking at some schools in california, also watching new girl.”

“Still wanna leave this place huh?”

She let out a breathy laugh picking at the thread on her bench, “You know me too well.”

“Of course I do. I’m coming over,” She could hear him walking on gravel.

“My parents are asleep Rafe,” It was almost one in the morning and her parents had some golf charity event early in the morning.

He laughed amused, “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean you have to climb up to my room on the second floor or stay at that party,” Her tone was stern not wanting him to get her in trouble but also praying he’ll come and not wake them.

“Hey I gotta convince you to stay close to me after high school so you brought this on yourself,” He was walking to her house. She didn’t live too far from where this party was and he didn’t want to drive after smoking and drinking. At his words her hand tightened around her phone closing her eyes for a second imagining he was there saying that to her but in a different context.

Rafe didn’t have to do anything to convince her. He was the only one who kept her here. It was why she was still mulling over the idea of leaving the outer banks.

“You better at least be bringing a joint for us,” She sighed feeling giddy about him coming over. He always made her feel like a school girl with a big crush on the cutest boy in school.

“Already had one with your name on it babe,” He always threw that word around like it meant nothing. It meant everything to her.

They bid their goodbyes as Rafe was a few houses away. Less than ten minutes later she heard rustling under her. Rafe was climbing the tree by her room. He stepped onto the ledge before getting hoping down.

“Rafe,” She shushed him harshly hoping her dad didn’t hear. His heavy feet landing with a thud.

He looked at her with a smirk, “oops.” He shrugged not really caring if he was loud. Grabbing her legs that were laid out on the bench and sat down placing them on top. One hand on her shin and the other right above her knee.

He leaned his head back looking at her. That contagious grin on his face his eyes hooded and a bit red from his night out, “So ms. I wanna run away. What’s this thing you’re trying to escape,”

She sighed leaning back, “Dunno. I guess everything. I want to start somewhere new, it’s hard when people think they know everything about you.”

He let out a short laugh, “Yeah tell me about it. Maybe we should escape together, I think you’re the only person who doesn’t see a douche bag when they look at me.”

Her heart burst. If they were in a cartoon there’d be hearts swirling around her head and violins playing.

She shook her head smiling, “No one sees you as a douche bag,” She smirked, “anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter because the family company will be mine after college and people will see that I’m more than just a pretty face with a bad attitude,” He smirked.

“You are a pretty face with a bad attitude,” She agreed before holding her hand out, “Also you have something for me no?”

He patted her legs, “How could I ever think you forgot.”

They smoked and talked all night. She put on a movie on her laptop but it was more of background noise. At almost four in the morning she started to drift off to sleep and soon she was asleep on Rafe’s lap. She just felt so comfortable and warm with his hand rubbing circles on her shoulder.

He carried her to her bed and tucked her in because he knew she got cold easily. He sat next to her on the bed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. A small smile on his face, these were the nights he cherished with her. When the world felt so quiet that it seemed like they were the only people existing. No interruptions from their friends or their parents.

Just him and his girl.

-

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

-

winter

She pushed through the crowd of people while scanning the room for the 6’2 man she was meeting. It was the first party she had come to since summer and she was only there because he had begged her to come. It was a christmas sweater party so she had on a red sweater with kittens playing with presents. She had gotten it with Rafe a week ago at a vintage store, it was the whole reason he even brought up this party. Telling her it’d be the perfect place to wear it to.

Spotting her friend Emma she went up to her, “Hey have you seen Rafe? he hasn’t been answering me.”

“I swear I saw him going to the bathroom like a few minutes ago,” She pointed towards the hallway.

“Thanks,” She waved and walked towards the hall.

It was much quieter in this part of the house. She’d never been here before so she didn’t know where the bathroom was. There was a door on her right and left and one straight ahead. She decided to check them all. She opened the door on the left and it was just a closet with towels. The door on her right was the bathroom. She was confused because wasn’t he supposed to be there.

She turned towards the last door and saw some light coming from under. She had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to be good. Slowly she walked towards the door and opened it just like ripping a band aid off and

ouch.

Rafe on top of Taylor Thompson. His hand under her sweater and his lips on her. Taylor’s hands in his hair. At the sound of the door opening Rafe turned around and the girl under him sat up to look.

“Shit,” He muttered feeling his heart sink.

She stood there in complete shock for a second before speaking, “Sorry to interrupt.” She slammed the door closed. Holding back her tears until she was in her car alone. Her feet knowing where to take her as her mind was elsewhere. Why would he do that? The last few months had felt different to her. It felt like there was a possibility of something more.

It felt like he literally ripped her heart out and shoved out down Taylor Thompson’s throat. That blonde bi-

“Y/n! Wait!” Rafe called as he chased after her.

She ignored him not really wanting to see him until she got her emotions in order. Now it was clear he wanted nothing to do with her and never cared about her, at least not in the say way. She didn’t want him to see her cry over him, it felt pathetic. They were outside now she had finally reached her car. Clicking the buttons to unlock it furiously.

“Stop!” Rafe said as he jogged to push her car door closed before she opened it all the way.

“What!” She yelled turning around to him. A look of anger in her eyes.

He took a step back seeing how upset she actually was, “I-It’s not what it looks like.”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care Rafe.” Crossing her arms defensively.

He furrowed his brows, “Then why are you leaving?”

“Because I can.”

“Y/n-“

“Rafe! I don’t want to third wheel all night so go fuck Taylor Thompson like you want, I don’t give a shit.” She seethed, tears pricking at her eyes.

He shook his head, “I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Then why were you kissing her?”

“I thought you didn’t care,” Now he was getting mad for some reason.

“Fuck you Rafe.”

He laughed bitterly, “Tell me why it bothered you so much.”

She scoffed confused, “What?”

“Why did me kissing her bother you?”

“Because it didn’t bother you. You just didn’t care,”

“About what?” He took a step closer. He was trying to get her to say it. To say that she cared because she liked him.

He knows he fucked up but after her reaction he realized that he had convinced himself she didn’t care when she did. Then he may have taken a few shots and gone into the guest room to breathe and call her. But then Taylor Thompson came in right when the tequila was kicking in and things got blurry. She was on him and he didn’t stop it and she tugged him on the bed and he just couldn’t move or stop. He also couldn’t stop thinking about y/n as it was all happening, wishing it was her.

“About me,” She sighed looking down voice so small.

“I care about you.”

She looked up at him with a frown. She sighed frustrated being able to hold her tears anymore as a few slipped down her cheeks, “No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have kissed her.”

She turned around quickly opening her car door and getting in. Rafe got what he wanted, to hear her say it. But maybe he fucked up so bad he can’t fix it. He steps back as her car starts and watches her drive away.

She can barely see between her tears as she drives home. She felt dumb. She felt like he was using her to make his ego bigger. Why did he have to ruin it? The one person who kept her tied to where she is had betrayed her the most. She knew he didn’t owe her any loyalty but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

-

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed

Writing in my room

-

spring

Three and a half months.

It’d been three and a half months of Rafe and her not talking.

After she left the party she promised herself she would never speak to him again. He hurt her and she couldn’t believe she’d let it happen. Feeling dumb for feeling the way she does towards him. How could she have let herself fall for him so much?

He had called and texted her relentlessly at first. Even tried to go up to her in school but she’d quickly turn and walk away from him. After a month of trying to get her to talk to him he gave up. He fucked it up more than he thought. Rafe gave her the space she wanted but he’d always be there in the background if she needs him.

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t take him always looking at her with those eyes. Couldn’t take all the time she was spending alone. She thought she liked being alone and spending time alone but she also liked all the time she spent with him. He made her feel so care free and light. The anxiety that was constantly bubbling in her stomach would diminish around him because she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

But enough was enough.

Ever since middle school she had kept a diary. A few stacks of books tucked away in the back of her closet hid her deepest feelings and every detail about her life. The current one she had been filling was almost full and the last quarter of the notebook was all Rafe. Well to be honest he was in all of them, and not in a weird way. He was just always there, they were always together.

But now that they didn’t spend time together her pages consisted of rants of her boring school days and writing different scenarios she had wished happened that night instead of what did. She had ranted about how he made her feel and how she felt seeing him on some other girl. A girl that wasn’t her. It should have been her.

After everything they had done together how could he not see her in the way she sees him? Maybe he did live up to his cold hearted reputation. Even though he had never done anything wrong before. She actually can’t remember the last time she saw him hook up with anyone. Not since the beginning of junior year and back then he was fully in his coke addiction. She remembers that night like it was yesterday.

They had become friends around that time the year before. Summer before sophomore year they met at midsummers when she caught him and his friends in the storage closet drinking from a bottle of vodka. Y/n told them she wouldn’t say anything if they let her have some. Rafe immediately liked her, she knew what she wanted and she got it.

Now it was a year later and he can feel her eyes on him as he kissed some rich touron. He was high out of his mind and he just wanted to make y/n jealous. But it didn’t work, the look he had caught from her as he trailed behind the redhead he just met was one more of disappointment. He felt his heart clench at the feeling. After that night he decided to get clean and stop the hard drugs because he hated that look.

She couldn’t take it anymore, keeping all of her feelings on sheets of paper. She needed to find him and yell at or just do something. He has confused her for years now and she was sick of it. Especially now that Rafe and her were closer than ever. All her pent of feelings seeped through as she sighed exasperatedly, putting her pen that had been furiously writing down. Slamming it on the desk as she harshly pushed herself up from her desk.

With anger she had stormed out of the house and driven to his. Her sneakers stomping on the ground as she marched towards him. Every one of their memories together flashing through her head.

She had spotted him on the dock and was b lining towards him. Rafe’s head turned as he heard her stomping towards him. His stomach flipped when his eyes landed on y/n, he had really missed seeing her around. Especially at his house. He propped his sunglasses up on his head and hopped back onto the dock. He had been getting the boat ready for a solo boat day to clear his head.

“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief.

“You!” She pointed at him and stopping once her finger was poking his chest, “Why are you the way you are!” Her finger jabbing into his chest with every word.

He watched as her chest rose and fell quickly. He had never really seen her mad before, something he always admired. But now seeing her with furrowed brows and steam practically coming out of her ears, he kind of liked it. Rafe knows he shouldn’t be thinking about how cute she looks and instead be getting on his knees begging for forgiveness.

He had really missed seeing her up close. Missed how dark her lashes were and how glossy her plump lips always were. He counted all her freckles to make sure she didn’t get any new ones while they were away from each other. Her hair was in a style he hadn’t seen on her before.

“Well hi to you too,” He smirked. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help use the charm he knew she loved.

She placed her palms on his chest and shoved him, barely making him move. Y/n began ranting, “For the last fucking four years you have been my best friend and you’ve been so confusing! Everything was fine at first but-but then you were always there for me whenever. And you always fucking listened to me. And you’re so funny. I started to feel different and then I saw you at that fucking party,” She glared at him, the image of him on that girl making her nauseous, “And then you changed. You don’t hook up with anyone and you don’t leave my side at parties,” she laughed sarcastically, “You even fucking call me babe sometimes. So I though oh maybe he feels different too then again I saw you on some fucking girl. And you chase after me so Rafe what the fuck do you want from me? Has this all just been bullshit to you? Am I just some fucking girl you get to flirt with to get your weird little fix until you find someone you actually want to be with?”

He rolled his eyes almost offended, “You know you’re not just some girl.”

She scoffed with wide eyes, “That’s all you took away from that. What else am I supposed to think? You make me feel special for years and I just wait and wait. Then when I think things are finally happening you go and kiss some girl.”

“Y/n-“

“Who fucking knows what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in.”

“Can I-“

“I know you would have fucked her and then came home to me to talk about your problems like I’m some wife in the 50s.”

“You-“

“You kill me Rafe.”

“Stop!” He practically shouted as he placed his hands on her shoulders. She closed her mouth and stared at him intensely.

“I was afraid you didn’t feel the same so I kept my feelings down. I’ve liked you since the moment I met you. But I was fucked up then so I didn’t act like it until I saw how much I hurt you. I changed for you and-and then I just got scared. You are someone so beyond me, you are like the nicest smartest most beautiful person. Why the fuck would you want me?” He laughed like it was obvious, “And we’re such good friends it was terrifying to think about how if I fucked it up I wouldn’t have you at all. No one’s ever actually tried to get to know me the way you have. And then I did fuck it up again,” he sighed scratching the back of his neck, “I shouldn’t have let her kiss me that night. I should have found you and told you what I’ve been feeling since I met you. That I love you so much it actually hurts. And it’s hurt me knowing I made you upset.”

“Rafe,” She sighed as her eyes softened. This was not going at all how she expected things to go.

“I get I fucked it up, so if you still never want to see me again that’s fine. But please give me a chance,” He was actually contemplating getting on his knees to beg.

“You’re such a big dumby. You’ve always had a chance. You mean so much to me. Rafe the only reason I haven’t applied to out of state schools is because I want to be with you. Even if it was just as friends,” She sighed feeling like a weight had been lifter off of her shoulders. A part of her still wanted to punch him.

He took a step closer lifting his hand and softly brushing his fingers across her cheek as he cupped her face, “Will you please go out with me? Because I am so in love with you.”

She leaned up towards him. Their noses now brushing, “I love you,”

He smiled as he pulled her towards him, their lips meeting. The kiss felt like every taylor swift love song playing at once. All the yearning felt worth it in that moments. Their lips moved against each other languidly, like they’ve always been doing this. Rafe’s hands moved to her waist, gripping in all the right places.

Y/n’s hand ran through his hair tugging when his hands reached lower giving her butt a squeeze.Rafe melted at her soft sighs and quiet moans as he trailed kisses down to her neck. Kissing behind her ear. He kissed her cheek as he faced her again. Her hazy eyes and swollen lips made his blood flow to a certain lower part of his body.

“Rafe, this doesn’t mean I’m not still kinda mad at you. You have a lot of making up to do,” She smiled innocently at him.

“Baby I’ll give you whatever you want. In fact, let’s go shopping now for our date tonight,” He kissed her one more time before moving to hold her hand dragging her towards his car.

She laughed as she trailed behind him knowing that one shopping trip wasn’t going to make it better. He owed her big time.

“It also doesn’t mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend because you haven’t asked me,” She smiled smugly at him as he opened the door to his truck for her.

“I guess I have my work cut out for me then,” He said leaning against the frame of door once she had sat down.

“you do.”

He leaned up and kissed her softly, “Anything for you baby.”