#that only has made me feel super bitter

[angy-grrr]

There is gonna be more than that coming from the poll, but whatever it is vote Kacchan/Deku for best hero. Idc who wins i just need them to be together again

if they just announced it today without saying anything before, I would probably immediately do it.

Right now im just bitter because of the hype -I thought it would at least slightly relate to the actual story (adaptations of other stories, extra content for the volume which once again may I remind everyone is extremely short, almost half what a manga volume usually looks which is a huge problem).

This disappointed me extremely, as its not even related to any content from the manga beyond the characters it uses. I get that many ppl will work on this, and that artist will get excited over being able to get the spotlight, some will be able to ask specific questions, and a character will get a statue and a movie.

Still extremely disappointed because of the "special project will be announced on the 5th *wink wink*".

I can't feel excitement over it as, in my mind, I lost something that felt better -more content related to the story. So at best this would be "oh cool I can try it", a feeling pretty similar to the other announcements -not my favorite thing in the world, but I wont reject it and try to see what comes out of it.

This isnt at best to me right now

[marimbles]

i miss carpisuns sometimes </3

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[yandere-sins]

Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar. 

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod. 

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head. 

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile. 

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly. 

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy. 

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you. 

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink. 

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages. 

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you. 

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing. 

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked: 

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route

[evielmostdefinitely]

slightly odd request but i’ve LOVED cold tonight and the others in the mini series and i was wondering if you could write something where reader gets into a disagreement with the caption wife of a politician snow HATES and reader does everything correct and is ‘well behaved’ for snow so when he gets her home she sort of breaks down in concern he’ll punish her and she’s worrying he’s mad at her but instead he just comforts her and tells her how good she is etc etc , maybe some praising smut if you fancy ? totally ok if it’s not your cup of tea !!!!

bitter cold |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above :)

contains: alludes to dom/sub themes but not super heavy. possessive, dark snow. reader gets hurt (not by snow). slight smut at the end but not super graphic.

“Mrs. Snow,” The snarl in her tone, you could practically picture the baring teeth, lips pursed in a forced smile that resembled more of a grimace waiting behind you; Cypher Crane. 

You turned, a polite smile on your lips- years of training. These dinners weren’t new to you by any means. You had grown up attending numerous socialite events such as this, only now, you were the President’s wife. 

“Cypher,” You greeted the brunette woman with a clenched grin. “Lovely to see you.” 

“Yes,” She hissed, eyes trailing down your figure, over your outfit with a flare of her nose in disapproval. “I’m sure it is.” 

You winced, sucking in a breath. And so it begins, you thought. Cypher was your age, you’d grown up going to school together, school yard friends even, at one point. Until you married Coriolanus. Since the death of her elder sister, Arachne, the entire Crane family had blamed Coriolanus. It was his idea that they go see the tributes, and therefore his fault she died. It never bothered Corio, he’d roll his eyes and wave it off, “The family is grieving. Let them blame me if it makes them feel better.” He’d scoff. Still, it upset you, their constant provoking. 

You cleared your throat lightly, scanning the room for Coriolanus on the other end, desperate to be away from Cypher, the tension already too much. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband needs me-” 

“-No, I need to have a word with you.” Cypher blocked your step easily, clutching her champagne flute. Your heart hammered, trying to stay calm, cool. 

“About?” You lifted a brow, tone lifting to stay light and casual- unbothered, hoping you would stay the same. 

“The games,” Her eyes narrowed, lips fixing in a tight line. 

Your heart dropped. Corio had made a number of changes to the games. Alongside Dr. Gaul, the two were working to gain more and more viewers. His first games, and he wanted them to be perfect. The changes had been announced to the sponsors council only a few days prior. You were sure that was why Cypher wanted to talk to you.

“Your husband,” Her words drenched in venomous disgust. “Made changes to the games.” You sucked in a breath as she took a step closer to you. “To the tributes.” 

Your eyes darted around. Where were your friends? Where was Corio? Tigris? Anyone to help you. 

“Yes, he has.” You nodded, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus thought it best that the tributes be welcomed and celebrated for their sacrifices-” 

“-I fucking know what he said.” Cypher snapped, her voice bouncing off the marble of the room, catching the attention of the guests around you- maybe the whole room. You were too scared to look, truthfully. Coriolanus’ icy, curious gaze had found yours, brows furrowed. 

“I was there when this ridiculous idea was presented, and quite frankly I’m surprised at you.” Cypher sneered, finger jabbing dangerously close towards your face. “Your own daily endorsing this-this monstrosity. Treating tributes as heroes? Funding new trains and tearing down the tribute zoo? Giving them this pedestal to parade around on?” 

“Darling,” Coriolanus’ tone was tight, it made your heart skip. You looked at him, eyes rounded in fear, pinned against the wall. Cypher close to you, Coriolanus behind her. “Is everything alright?” You knew he was upset about the commotion, the improperness of it. 

Your words jumbled in your mouth, fumbling over a calm, collected response. Cypher never turned, never moved, kept her furious gaze on you. “You know my sister was killed by one of those tributes?” Cypher sneered. 

The room stilled, Coriolanus’ eyes falling to you. You weren’t sure what to do, uncomfortable and a little frightened. “You do know it, and now you want to reward them? Reward the rebellion? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “No, never, I- we would never-” 

“-Liar!” Cypher roared, lunging at you. She shoved you against the wall, your head smacking the heavy marble, wincing through clenched vision, waiting for the strike. 

Instead, Coriolanus had her, arms wrenched around her shoulders, shoving her with such force to the ground before the Peacekeepers drug her away. “You killed my sister! You did, Snow! And now you’re rewarding the ones who killed her! Her blood is on your hands, you rebels!” 

“Move,” Corio shoved the Avoxes out of the way, eyes scanning over your features furiously. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He whispered, jaw clenched in fear, maybe rage. 

“I-I’m alright.” You took a shaky breath, reaching to the back of your head, rubbing the forming knot. Corio’s grip tightened around you.

“Take her to my lab.” Gaul commanded the guards, bright eye wandering wickedly Coriolanus’ way. He nodded, lips pursed furiously, one arm around you. “Clear everyone out.” He commanded with a sharp jerk of his head. 

“Corio, I-I’m fine.” Your breath shuddered, gripping his arm to steady yourself. “Everyone doesn’t have to leave-” 

“-I’m taking you to be examined.” Coriolanus’ jaw was tight, pulling you down the Capitol’s steps with a fury. 

“I don’t need that, darling, I promise. I-I’m alright.” Your heart beat furiously. You had ruined his event. You knew how important this was, and you let it get out of hand. Now, Corio was furious, and why wouldn’t he be? 

“You need to be examined.” Coriolanus’ tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Instead, his hand wrapped tighter around your bicep, hauling you to the private wing of the Capitol’s mansion- your shared wing. 

You didn’t fight, sure if you opened your mouth, you might be sick. Instead you sat obediently, letting the doctor examine you, avoiding Coriolanus’ intense, watchful gaze on you. Your fate was sealed, you knew it. Knew that he was upset with you- that he’d punish you for such a display.

The doctor checked you, wrote it off as a mild concussion with orders to not sleep. Coriolanus’ response of “I will ensure of it,” in such a cutting, firm tone, made you shiver. 

The room was eerily still when the doctor left, just you and Coriolanus residing in your bedroom, a thick tension in the air. 

“How are you feeling?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sharper than normal, though his brows were furrowed with something softer. Concern, perhaps? 

“I-I’m ok, Corio.” You swallowed your nerves, clutching the duvet of the bed. “Just an ache.” 

“How bad of an ache? You didn’t tell the doctor this.” Corio huffed, standing quickly, crossing the bedroom with a fury. 

“Corio, don’t. I’m fine.” You shook your head, moving off the edge after him.

 Coriolanus turned around, frowning at you. “You’re not supposed to be up.” He huffed, harsher than he meant to. “Sit down.” 

You flinched, scurrying back obediently. “I’m sorry. I-I just, I’m fine. I promise. I’m ok.” You stuttered, stomach dropping and twisting with fear. 

Corio paused, watching you with careful eyes. He’d written off your skittish behavior as fear from the situation, fear from being hurt. Now, he watched you cower before him, eyes peering at him the way those he executed did, trembling with pure horror. 

An unpleasant heaviness settled in his chest, sinking to his stomach. “My love,” Corio frowned, stepping towards you. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m ok, Corio, I promise. I-I’m just-just…” You looked at him, head turned down, curled into yourself. 

Coriolanus knelt in front of you, between your legs, taking your face into his hands gently, stomach lurching at the way you tensed. “What’s the matter?” He whispered, blue eyes scanning your face for a sign, any indication as to why you were so fearful. 

You hesitated, lip rolling between your teeth. You wanted to stay silent, be obedient and not further him any more. His gentle touches were lulling you, coaxing your own anxieties out of you. 

“Corio, I swear, I-I did not mean for that conversation to get out of hand as it did.” Your eyes met his gaze hesitantly. “I tried to excuse myself. I tried to de-escalate it, and-and move away, but she was so… determined.” 

Coriolanus waited, blinking, still in his own confusion. Your hands twisted in your own clammy grip. “I didn’t mean to ruin your event. I-I was just trying to be polite and-and it got out of hand-” 

“-I know that.” Coriolanus tilted his head gently. “Darling, this isn’t your fault.” 

“She approached me, and-and I should have walked away or-or called you over-” 

“-You did what you should have done.” Coriolanus said firmly, lips pressing together. “I need to know who is with me and who is against me. There are far too many rebels, unscared and ready to strike. Clearly, the Crane family is one and will be dealt with.” You shuddered at the sneer in his tone, the venomous threat ominous of what was to come for the Crane family, what Cypher was already experiencing in Gaul’s lab. 

“I wish that would have been done without her laying a hand on you,” Corio grit, anger flashing through those dazzling, blue eyes that had you swooning when their gaze met yours. “But, I can assure that will not be possible for her to do. Not for much longer.” 

Your grip tightened this time, clutching his hand fiercely, like a lifeline. “You’re not angry with me?” 

“I could never be.” Coriolanus shook his head. “You defended me, I heard you- others heard you.” His lips curled in a soft smile. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” 

You beamed under his praise, relaxing into his touch. Corio’s fingers brushed over your knuckles carefully. “Are you feeling ok?” He asked, softer now. A touch of… worry in his tone? 

“Yes,” You nodded, pressing your forehead to his, your noses touching. “It’s just an ache.” 

Coriolanus’ hand tightened in yours. “I should have her whole fucking bloodline removed for that. For putting her hands on you.” 

“Don’t.” You whispered, shaking your head gently. “She’s upset. She lost her sister.” 

“She’ll be losing more than that tonight, my darling, rest assured.” Corio hissed, that cloudy darkness seeping back into his gaze. “I will make sure of it.” 

You didn’t fight him, didn’t try to sway him. You didn’t want to upset him further, there was nothing that could change Cypher’s fate anyways. 

Instead, you let him dote on you. You let Corio’s fingers brush through your hair, parting your scalp, running lightly over the small knot there. His lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss to the sore area, before replacing it with ice. He even held the ice pack in place when your arm got tired, like a true, doting husband. 

Your eyes would droop, a soft pat to your leg waking you, a stern stare that had you blushing bashfully, thighs pressing together. 

“You have to stay awake, my love.” Corio reminded with a soft grumble, rubbing your scalp gently. 

“So keep me awake.” You purred, pressing up on his chest lightly, body between his legs. Corio grinned, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you into him, lips hungrily devouring yours. He moved you gently into the goose feather pillows, lips dragging down your cheek, jaw, biting at your neck. He was so sweet to you, fucking you how you liked- on your stomach, his body folded on top of yours, hands intertwined, hot breath grunting and moaning into your ear.

[ivysangel]

expanding on this post except it's where dick, roy, jason, and wally fall in the frat ranking and why (this is just for fun, don't take it too seriously)

DICK

is ranked number one every year until he graduates (duh) because he's a borderline nympho and can't go a single night without getting his dick wet

pledges aspire to be him but he's seriously contemplated attending a sex addicts anonymous meeting because he skipped half his classes last semester to fuck girls on greek row and his grades suffered

has a collection of underwear he steals from girls to keep as trophies and had to change the spot where he keeps them because one of his frat brothers found them and went around the house telling everyone that dick wore women's panties

fucked that guys ex to spite him and got away with it because he's super hot and also the frat president (defintely a legacy pledge too)

has told girls "i love you" and "you're the only one for me" to get in their pants and has either ghosted or messaged them "it's not you, it's me" immediately after leaving their dorm

there are multiple hate posts about him in the gotham university subreddit and all of the upvotes are from girls he’s fucked

ROY

ranked in the lower half of the top 10 but is on a mission to break top 5

gets a lot of play just from being hot but also keeps a list of girls dick rejects so he can be the first to console them and subsequently get in their pants, has "i can make you feel better"ed his way into many hook ups

has a thing for girls with dark hair who play hard to get and has unironically sent to the frat group chat "i need a goth bitch in my life"

scared away multiple girls by wanting to fuck them in the ass and always follows it up with "aw come on??? it was a joke!" even though it's not a joke

came too fast once as a freshman and got nicknamed speedy

is still bitter about it and sometimes sends to the gc "lasted 2 hours, who's speedy now?" and everyone's like "still you."

JASON

isn't ranked at all and not because he doesn't get any play, just because he doesn't kiss and tell

fully thinks the ranking is corny but also takes pride in knowing that if his bodycount was made public he wouldn't be at the absolute bottom

hasn't slept with that many girls but has had so many blowjobs that he's sometimes wondered if his dick will start pruning like wet fingers

felt dumb wondering that so he doubled up on his bio classes the next semester and then hooked up with his ta because she was hot and smart

is like the only guy in the frat that cares about safe sex and has had to let his brothers know on multiple occasions that their junk isn't supposed to be red or itchy, and has had the pleasure of accompanying more than a few of them on trips to the std clinic

never tells anyone that he's dick's adoptive brother, so every time they go home together over break and he decides to text a girl, she always responds with, "you're not gay?"

WALLY

would be ranked low because he's a loser and has zero game/cannot function normally around hot girls and will make a fool of himself 97% of the time but his oral skills cancel it out so he's somewhere in the middle

is one of the first places girls go after breaking up with their shitty bf's because he's sweet and will go down on them for hours without expecting anything in return

once had a conversation with jason where he reffered to his girls as clients and jason said he "made it sound like prostitution"

once had a conversation with jason where he said his jaw was getting tired and he was thinking about charging for his “service” and jason said, "that would be actual prostitution"

has cum too quick on multiple occasions but didn't get a nickname because nobody was surprised

once hooked up with another ginger, and roy had to sit him down to tell him that it was fundamentally wrong and that he was never allowed to do it again or else he'd be kicked out of the frat

[ineffableigh]

Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!

This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."

His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.

This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying

"WE NEED HELP."

Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:

Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."

"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."

After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.

"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.

"Like the old times, only even NICER!"

The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?

Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.

After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.

He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"You idiot. We could have been us."

Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.

OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS

Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:

Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.

Having seen all that, my best guess now is:

Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.

Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.

Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.

Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."

"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.

Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.

Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.

Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.

This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.

My heart hurts, ow.

[theemporium]

This looks super fun!!!! Super creative and exciting ❤️

Oscar + Max

Green-Eyed Mojito

“This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time."

i didn't quite know how to write oscar and max together, so i just did max!! sorry!! but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

21. "This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time."

.

He was trying not to be bitter.

Emphasis on trying. 

However, Max thought he was pretty justified in his annoyance when he had spent the better part of the last six months working his way into a friendship with you, only for a new employee to swoop in and steal you away and undo all the hard work Max had put into his ‘how to get your race engineer to fall in love with you in twelve months’ plan.

He had been so excited for the race weekend. The sport was coming off the summer break and he hadn’t had the chance to properly hang around you in a while, and he missed you. It was as simple as that. 

But it was a Thursday and he made a point of getting to the paddock earlier than usual just so he could have an excuse to grab some coffee with you—only to enter the Red Bull motorhome and find you already sitting at one of the tables, laughing away with some guy he had never seen before.

So yeah, maybe Max was a bit fucking bitter. Not that he was showing it at all. 

“Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” GP voiced from behind him, something quite like amusement written on his face. “Don’t tell me I have to deal with Mad Max this weekend.”

“Shut up,” Max bit back, rolling his eyes as he tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the sound of your laugh from the other side of the room. 

“Jesus Christ,” the older man grumbled before patting Max on the back. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. He wasn’t seventeen anymore with no control over his emotional responses. He was an adult. He was an adult who was in control of how he felt and he didn’t need anyone to remind him otherwise. 

At least, he was until you got up from your seat, seeming to spot Max and smile as you made your way over. 

“Hey, when did you get in?” 

You were being sweet and polite and any other day, Max would have been jumping over the fucking motorhome, just happy that you were talking to him. Today, it seemed like the bitter jealousy won. 

“This is your workplace, you know,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “Leave the boyfriend at home next time.” 

You blinked in surprise. “The what?” 

“Your boyfriend or whoever that guy was,” he tried to play it off, looking away from your face in hopes you wouldn’t notice the way his cheeks were burning red. “We are here to race and win. Not flirting.” 

“So it doesn’t count when you flirt with me?” 

Max’s head snapped up. “I—”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you watched the boy grow flustered under your gaze. “He’s a guy I knew from university who has just joined the team. I was being polite.” 

“Oh,” was all he could stupidly reply with.

“Plus, mechanics aren’t my type,” you added. “I prefer drivers.” 

“Oh,” he repeated, this time with a smile on his lips. 

“It’s a shame though,” you mused, already turning to head towards the garage to start your day. “The driver I like is really slow at catching onto my feelings, despite winning every race.” 

Max could only gape as he watched you walk away, the bitter jealousy quickly replaced with hope and excitement at the date he had been planning in his head since the day he met you.

.

[luvsellie]

THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS NETEYAM DOES

always touching you. he is protective. there is absolutely no way to sugar coat this, and it is clearly demonstrated in atwow. your presence grounds him, and knowing you're there, right next to him, skin against his, instantly eases his conscious. he likes being the bigger spoon and splaying a hand across the expanse of your lower back when he's around you…he will completely blanch, though, if you're the one initiating something more intimate (back hugs, small touches or kisses on his shoulders, etc). however he LOVES to do it to you.

he is incredibly patient. as the oldest of four, patience is a necessity. he's mastered the ability to keep relatively calm when a situation calls for it. this includes when the two of you have an argument or disagreement about something. additionally, he is the type to give you space post argument. won't approach you unless he realizes he was 100% in the wrong or it's been more than a day of not talking to you. and if you're still a little bitter, he'll continue to stick around and patiently wait for you to realize how much you miss him.

luring you in by doing absolutely nothing. everything about him is just attractive. he could just be standing there and your eyes would still be drawn to him. he isn’t exactly aware, per say, about how alluring he can be, but he is definitely aware when your eyes are on him. once he's certain your attention is completely on him he'll show off or do things that make your cheeks heat and stomach do flips. he's a tease, there's no point in trying to deny it.

puts his entire trust in you and the relationship. now while he'll still get jealous at times (it's quite rare but definitely still happens), he trusts you completely. he thinks it'd be pointless not to, especially when you're already with him. you tell him all the time how happy you are with him, so why should he have any reason to worry, right?

constantly makes small quips and teases you. he loves to see you flustered and giggly, smiling so wide your cheeks ache. and one of the easiest ways to do that is to tease you about something…like he does to lo'ak, but less with the intention of annoyance. he especially likes to pester you about your height, always finishing off his taunting with something super flirtatious like, "but don't worry, my love, i like being taller than you. it makes me feel like i'm your sworn protector." he'll also comment on the size difference between your hands (!!!), always going on and on about how your palm was made to be pressed against his. "you're so small."

he's naturally competitive. this will undoubtedly lead to races on your ilu's/ikran's. neteyam likes the rush of adrenaline he receives when he's messing around with you—it makes him feel like a kid again. he can and will turn anything into a competition (only if the situation calls for it though!), and every time he intends to do this he's silently repeating the words take the bait, take the bait, take the bait in hopes of seeing your infamous eye roll followed by an "oh, you're on, sully."

gives you nicknames. as much as he likes the way your name rolls off his tongue, he loves the reaction you give him when he uses a nickname instead. at first he called you them to see you get flustered, but it soon became a sacred thing between the two of you. examples include (but aren't limited to!) my love, pretty girl, and babe.

his tail reveals EVERYTHING. no matter what he is feeling and/or trying to mask, his tail will give him away. every. time. for example, if he has noticed another na'vi get a little too 'friendly' with your smiling figure—this includes getting in your personal space or even touching you out of excitement—he won't outright say that he's jealous. oh no, this man will just let his gaze flicker between you both until you eventually return to him. and, of course, you notice his stiff stature, locked jaw, and swishing tail as you approach an obviously jealous neteyam.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[goresuki]

my thoughts on Charlastor and Alastor calling Charlie "the daughter he never had"

this will be a very long rant/vent/whatever. also, a kind of... agressive one. if u wanna read, read it, if u don't, don't, idc and idm. I don't know if some antis take things for convenience (that way) or if they really are naive, because the fact that a manipulative guy like Alastor, whose intentions are unknown, tells Charlie that he sees her as "the daughter he never had" DOES NOT SOUND as CUTE to me as many DO seem to think it does.

I don't know if they don't realize the relationship Charlie has with her parents and how Alastor seems to take advantage of her.

From the pilot we realize that Charlie has no contact with her mother. In the series it is established that they have not seen each other for 7 years.

The first episode JUST talks about Charlie having so called "daddy issues" as her father, Lucifer, is an absentee father.

Charlie appears to NOT have had a close relationship with ANY of the two for some time (or quite some time).

The only person Charlie has is Vaggie, to protect and care for her (here's why Vaggie is so "boring", as some people call her, as she is acting as a guide/parental figure for Charlie, even though their relationship is romantic).

Where am I going with these points? That I think it's complete nonsense for people to take super-literally what Alastor has said: "you're like the daughter I always wanted to have".

Isn't it convenient for the most feared overlord (not the strongest) to approach Charlie and find that she's not as vulnerable as he thought (because Vaggie is there)? Isn't it convenient for Alastor to make a very absolute polarity between Vaggie and him in the pilot, where Vaggie comes off as the "bitter one" and he as the "fun guy"? Isn't it convenient for Alastor to PROVE to Charlie over and over again that HE knows what SHE NEEDS by pulling his tricks? And, oh, surprise… Isn't it even more convenient that when Lucifer arrives, who has a lousy relationship with his daughter, Charlie, Alastor rubs it in his face that he is doing everything that he (Lucifer) is responsible for, and furthermore, hits him right where it hurts, manipulating Charlie so that she seriously BELIEVES that Alastor REALLY sees her that way, and thus making her STILL not have a GUIDE other than HIMSELF?

I'll make it simple for you. You know how narcissists work? They will make you believe that YOU are special, and at the same time, they will ALIENATE you from your loved ones to keep gaining whatever they need from you. Charlie is, literally, his supply.

Alastor is a psychopath and narcissist. Do you really think that someone who can't genuinely empathize and love is literally going to feel affection for a grown woman who is very naive and doesn't even have power over her kingdom because she is so immature? Don't you think it is VERY OBVIOUS that he has literally said to her face: "I'm going to manipulate you in my favor because thanks to me you have all these upgrades in your stupid hotel"?

Alastor hasn't as such made a deal with Charlie, but he's winning her over in HIS way.

And I don't know who's crazier: charlastor shippers like me, who don't give a damn about canon and want to enjoy shipping WITHOUT bothering ANYONE (and don't come out with the stupidity that it's a "proship". Proshipper doesn't even mean "problematic ship", it means that you are FOR shipping whatever you want, living and letting live, without HARASSING others. Let's remember that Hazbin Hotel characters DON'T. FUCKING. EXIST. Alastor is not going to come out of the screen to say: "omg, user, thanks for defending me from those evil shippers uwu", or Charlie to say: "thanks for defending me, you're so good, user…. You're such a good person". Pro: "in favor of", shipper: "shipper, ship", however you want to call it. Don't modify terms to suit yourselves because you can tell that many don't even know how suffixes and prefixes work in words. Neither Charlie nor Alastor are going to die because someone shipped them. They are FICTITIOUS characters. The FANON is not going to change the CANON. Learn to sepparate stuff, ffs. Go out and touch grass once in a while) or antis who put on a pedestal what Alastor said, believing it as a justification to ATTACK people in the fandom who shipped something different, according to them, "problematic".

There they do forget that Alastor is a manipulator, that he is a person with a LOT of arsenal to get his way. There they forget that he IS a guy Charlie should NOT trust. There it DOES count because IT CONVENIENTS THEM. That's when the canon MATTERS to them. There it COUNTS. It doesn't matter if Charlie gets hurt because of trusting Alastor, they only see what they want to see. If you guys are going to humanize this fucking characters, at least be a little bit logical. Got me? Remember what Viv said?: "ship whatever you want, JUST DON'T HARASS ANYONE". These people say: "fuck what Viv says", but on this occasion, since she DID say something convenient for them, it DOES matter what Viv says now, doesn't it? Hypocrites.

Charlie has no one beyond Alastor, and I don't remember where I read that theory, whether it was here or elsewhere, where they talked about Alastor looking for a way to alienate the hotel itself in one way or another. That's why he doesn't use very flashy technology (Vox can travel through the latest electronics, and the hotel has an old box TV), nor does he go out of his way to provide anything of good quality (like the video camera). The hotel has its own power supply (we see this when the blackout occurs during the song between Alastor and Vox).

Alastor DOES NOT WANT Charlie as his daughter, he's just taking advantage of her to get whatever he needs to get out of her.

Charlie doesn't even seem to know exactly how her powers work, and the only person who can teach her is Lucifer, her father. And if Lucifer is out of the equation, Alastor can do whatever he wants.

He's hit Lucifer right in the jugular, and Lucifer knows that all the power in the world can't make up for the wrong he did to Charlie.

Anyway, if a real anti thinks Charlastor is problematic because "AlASTor AlreADy SaiD hE sEES hEr As a DauGhtER," I remind them that they are not dealing with a character who cares about others beyond maintaining his own status, and ffs... they're not even real. KEEP SHIPPING. KEEP DRAWING. KEEP MAKING FANFICS. FUCK THESE PEOPLE THAT TRY TO HARASS YOU, FUCK THESE PEOPLE THAT TRY TO MAKE EVERYTHING "PURE" ON A SHOW ABOUT DEMONS AND HELL. FUCK THESE PEOPLE TRYING TO MAKE A FANDOM THEIR OWN FUCKING WAY BECAUSE THEY CAN'T HANDLE THERE'S A LOT OF DIFFERENT VIEWS. FUCK THEIR SAVIOR COMPLEX, JUST COMING AROUND WHEN IT'S ALL ABOUT CHARACTERS THAT DON'T EXIST, FEEL, OR THINK FOR THEMSELVES, BUT DISAPPEARS ANYTIME SOMEONE REAL COMES, HARASSING AND SENDING DEATH THREATS TO THEM. FUCK THESE PEOPLE, GIVING PSYCHOLOGICAL DIAGNOSES OVER A FUCKING TIKTOK VIDEO OTHER ANTI MADE JUST BASING THEIR THEORIES ON THEIR FIST RESULT ON GOOGLE. FUCK YALL, CAUSE YOU'RE THE REASON YOU WHINE ABOUT THIS FANDOM. JUST AS WE SAY IN SPANISH: O LA BEBES, O LA DERRAMAS.

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Inter(n)twining

synopsis: you’re an intern at JYP Corp, you get suddenly moved to a different floor and meet the woman of your dreams

cw: basically pure fluff, jealous Tzuyu, minor cursing, alcohol, grimey He*chul, please let me know anything else, also Tzuyu is like rich but it doesn't relate to the plot

word count: 4k

notes! hi! I hope you enjoy this!! It was sooo fun to write. I thought about this on my way to my own internship hahaha. Has anyone watched Queen of Tears? I referenced that one (<-watch it if you haven't!) scene in this that I thought was soooooo cute ahh~ anyways! Let me know how you feel about this or if you’d just like to chat. Love youuuu (:

You’d been interning at JYP Corp for about a month and a half now, and so far, things were pretty good. The people you met were okay, and while the work was definitely stressful, the fast-paced environment made the days fly by.

All in all, it wasn’t bad.

Well, almost.

Your floor boss, Heechul, was the one exception. He was in his early 40s, arrogant, and rude—those were the kindest words you could think of to describe him. You despised him secretly, but you were careful never to show it.

It was 9:20 a.m., and you had been at your desk since 7:30, typing up a last-minute report Heechul had dumped on you the moment you stepped through the office door. A report he honestly should have done yesterday.

“Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The way his smug grin appeared as your face faltered for a split second was permanently burned into your memory.

You mimicked his tone quietly to yourself while you made a face, “Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The bitter satisfaction of hitting ‘send’ on the email 40 minutes ahead of schedule almost made up for the annoyance.

“Hey, uh…”

Your heart dropped when you saw Heechul’s head suddenly poke over your cubicle wall.

Did he have super-hearing or something?!

You froze, horrified at the thought that he might’ve overheard your mocking.

“I’m so—” you began, your words stumbling out, but he cut you off without even glancing in your direction.

“Intern #5…” he drawled lazily, “someone on the 3rd floor got pulled into another project. They need someone to fill in for a 12 week case.” He flashed an indifferent smile as you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Oh, okay. When do I start?” Not even questioning what you’d be doing for the next TWELVE weeks

“Hmm.. like now. Just grab whatever you need and head down there. Thanks!” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you blinking in disbelief.

What the hell. No details, no briefing? Just like that?

Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed your briefcase and stuffed your sparse desk items in it before making your way out the door and into the elevator. It wasn’t until you were inside that it hit you.

He didn’t even know your name. After over a month of interning, you were still just ‘Intern #5.’

“Ahh~ Seriously, fuck that guy…” you muttered to yourself as the elevator dinged, straightening your posture instinctively.

The third floor felt like a completely different world. The cubicles were laid out in a way that was the total opposite of what you were used to, leaving you standing there awkwardly, much like a worried puppy with the way your eyebrows furrowed.

After a few moments a soft voice broke through your thoughts. You turned your head to see a woman peeking out from her cubicle, you only needed to see half her face to realize she was stunning.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah… I was sent here to help out on the 12 week case,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. “But the layout is completely different from the 4th floor, so I’m a bit lost.”

She smiled warmly and stood up from her desk. “Oh! It must be the case I’m working on, my boss mentioned something earlier about another intern joining me so I think she is expecting you!  Her office is down that hall, last door on the left.” Using her long arms to point you in said direction. 

“Thanks a lot!” You started to walk away but paused, realizing you hadn’t asked for her name.

“Tzuyu,” she said with a smile, extending her hand.

“Y/n… Or, as my boss calls me, Intern #5.” You sighed with a small laugh, shaking her hand.

Tzuyu giggled softly. “I’m also an intern and I’ve heard stories about how he treats us. I think I can safely say Jihyo-nim is much nicer” assuaging your worries

As you exchanged smiles with Tzuyu, her warmth immediately calmed your nerves. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing you'd be working with someone friendly for once.

"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll try not to embarrass myself in front of her," you said with a small grin.

Tzuyu chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. She's really understanding—definitely not the type to make you feel like Intern #5," she reassured you, her voice playful.

With one last nod, you turned and made your way to Jihyo’s office, the nerves slowly creeping back in. You took a deep breath, knocked twice, and heard a clear voice from inside.

I really can’t deal with another Heechul situation

"Come in."

Opening the door, you found Jihyo seated at her desk, her space neat and organized but stacked with files. She looked up from her work and smiled brightly. "Y/n, thanks for stepping in on such short notice."

"No problem at all," you said, relieved she actually used your name.

Jihyo stood up and grabbed a folder from her desk. Jihyo motioned for you to sit. "The project we’re working on is a client case that’s been a bit tricky, but with the extra hands, we should be able to get things done faster.” She handed you the file to briefly read it over, “I’m assigning you to work on it with another intern, and I’ll walk you over to your station. You’ll be seated next to your partner."

You nodded, feeling your nerves settle. "Sounds great!"

Jihyo led you out of her office, down the hall, and toward a cluster of cubicles. As you approached, your heart skipped a beat when you realized she was guiding you right to the cubicle next to Tzuyu’s.

“Tzuyu, this is Y/n," Jihyo said with a smile as she motioned toward you. "You’ll both be working together on this case."

Tzuyu smiled warmly as she stood up. "Oh, we've already met!"

Jihyo blinked in surprise for a moment before chuckling softly. "Well, that’s perfect. That makes things easier." She gestured toward the empty cubicle next to Tzuyu’s. "Y/n, this is where you'll be sitting. Tzuyu’s already familiar with the case, so she’ll help you get caught up, and you two can take it from there. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" She made a slight notice how the tips of your ears were beginning to turn red before turning away.

"Thank you," you said, bowing before stepping into your new space and setting down your things.

As Jihyo left, you turned toward Tzuyu, a grin tugging at your lips. "Looks like we’re officially teammates."

Tzuyu nodded, her expression playful. "I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you."

"It seems so," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the idea of working closely with her made your heart flutter just a bit.

Tzuyu sat back down and gestured toward a stack of neatly organized documents. "Okay, let’s get started. I’ll walk you through what we were working on so far, and we can go from there."

You nodded, scooting your chair closer to her, your shoulder just barely brushing against hers as you both leaned in toward the table. The soft sound of paper flipping echoed against the steady lull of the room as Tzuyu began to explain the case, her voice was so calming. Her perfume—a subtle, sweet scent—seemed to linger in the air between you, and though you were trying to focus on her words, it was hard not to get a little distracted.

As she spoke, you couldn’t help but admire how composed and thoughtful she was, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pages. You found yourself glancing at her more often than the documents in front of you, drawn in by her presence. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she carried herself—poised, elegant, but still approachable.

“Do you understand it a bit more now? If not I can go over it again,” Tzuyu’s voice broke through your thoughts, and when you looked up, her eyes were already on you, curious. There was no judgment, just a soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it off with a grin. “Oh~! No, that’s okay,” you assuaged. “I’m just trying to process all of it”

She gave a small, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the documents. “Well, you're doing great, I know I just said a lot of words” she giggled, her tone soft but warm.

Over the last eight weeks, you and Tzuyu had gotten to know each other better. Your work together became a steady rhythm—casual conversations, shared laughs, and, to your delight, a shared love for music. It made the long car rides during company trips feel less like work and more like a comfortable escape.

One afternoon, while heading back to the office after a client visit, you caught Tzuyu quietly nodding along to a song from your playlist.

"You like Twice?" you asked, glancing over with mild surprise.

Tzuyu smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone here to listen to them."

"Same here," you chuckled. "You ever seen them live?"

Tzuyu turned her head, her smile growing. "Once, back in college. It was unforgettable."

"I’ve been meaning to for years but never got around to it," you replied. "Maybe next time they’re touring here."

"Maybe we can go together," she said, her voice was so forward yet soft, and the thought of seeing a concert with her lingered in the back of your mind long after the conversation ended.

That evening, after another long day, you found yourself staying late to finish some reports. Tzuyu had already called it a night, stopping by her neighboring cubicle as she prepared to leave.

"Hey, don’t stay too late," she said, offering a tired but warm smile.

"I won’t be long," you replied, stretching your shoulders. "I’ll see you tomorrow!"

"Good night, Y/n" she said, and with a soft wave, she headed out.

It was nearly an hour later when you finally finished up, the office almost eerily silent. You grabbed your things and headed out, only to find Tzuyu standing by the entrance under the building’s foyer, her arms crossed as she looked out at the rain pouring down.

You frowned, assuming she was waiting for the storm to calm down. "Seriously?" you muttered to yourself, amused that someone so seemingly put-together would forget an umbrella on a night like this. With a sigh, you walked over to her.

"Tzuyu, did you forget your umbrella?" you assumed lightly, a teasing smile on your face as you stood beside her.

Tzuyu turned toward you, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I'm just waiting for—"

"For the rain to stop?" You asked as you frantically put your stuff down on the concrete while taking off your blazer.

"You'll get sick if you try to walk home like this," you interrupted, pulling out your own red umbrella of your bag and pressing it into her hands while also throwing your blazer around her.

Tzuyu opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t give her a chance.

"Here, take mine."

Tzuyu blinked, a bit taken aback. "But what about you?"

"I’ll be fine," you said with a reassuring smile. "The bus stop is just around the corner, and so I’ll be good. Besides, this umbrella’s way too nice to just be used in a short walk!"

Tzuyu hesitated, looking between you, the umbrella, and the pre-warmed jacket around her. She opened her mouth again, probably to explain, but you waved her off, already heading toward the street. "Seriously, don’t worry about it! It looks better on you anyway!"

Before she could protest, you were jogging away, flashing her a quick cheeky smile over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tzu~!"

She stood there, the unopened red umbrella still in her hand and blazer around her as she watched you dart off toward the bus stop, your silhouette slowly disappearing in the fog of the heavy rain. Tzuyu glanced down at the umbrella, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“I .. have a driver..”

Just as she stood there, still processing what had happened, her driver finally pulled up, headlights cutting through the downpour.

"Miss Chou, I apologize for the delay—the rain's been causing awful traffic," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for her.

Tzuyu looked down at the umbrella again, momentarily lost in thought. "It’s okay, don't worry about it" she murmured, climbing into the car, the umbrella still firmly in her grip.

As the car drove off, Tzuyu’s thoughts drifted back to you—how you’d rushed off into the rain without a jacket nor without a second thought, stupidly smiling despite the storm, leaving her with your umbrella. She looked out the window as the bus drove off in the distance, watching your soaked form disappear from view, wondering about you, and why you so easily gave her the clothes off your back.

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, you saw Tzuyu already at her desk, the red umbrella propped up against your chair.

“Good morning Tzu!” You cheerfully greeted her while making your way to your respective space. 

She glanced up as you approached, her usual calm expression shifting to something more thoughtful.

"You know, you didn’t have to do all that last night," she said softly, as if she’d been thinking about it all morning. (she was)

You shrugged, giving her an easy smile. "I couldn’t let you walk in the rain like that. It’s just an umbrella and I bought that jacket from Amazon, no big deal! I’m glad you got home safe."

Tzuyu held your gaze for a moment, her eyes lingering on yours before she looked down. "Still… I appreciate it. I’ll give it back when it’s dry-cleaned"

Dry-cleaned?

"No it’s okay! Don’t worry about it," you replied, brushing off her concern with a wave of your hand. "It’s really okay!"

But as you settled into your seat, something about the exchange left an unspoken feeling between you both, small but undeniably there. You couldn’t quite shake it—the way her gaze lingered, it seemed like a quiet weight resting beside her.

And maybe, just maybe, that gesture meant more than either of you were ready to admit

Twelve weeks had passed, and you and Tzuyu had finally closed the case(successfully!) you’d been working on it for so long. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and both the third and fourth floors were buzzing with excitement. As the end-of-year office tradition dictated, Jihyo—and unfortunately, Heechul—organized a work dinner and drinks to celebrate the years successes.

Dinner started smoothly. Everyone was relaxed, conversations filled with lighthearted laughter and stories of the past few months. Tzuyu sat beside you, nursing her drink, her small, contented smile only adding to the warmth of the night.

But then, the drinks started flowing.

As the evening wore on, you noticed Heechul’s eyes repeatedly drifting toward Tzuyu. From the moment he saw her, it was clear what his intentions were. His predatory gaze, the same one you’d witnessed with other interns, made your blood simmer. He was so zeroing in.

Tzuyu, who was carefully sipping her beer, had stiffened as Heechul sauntered over with a smug grin, the two small glasses in his hand wobbling slightly from how much he’d already consumed.

“Hey, Tzuyu, right?” Heechul drawled, leaning on the table beside her. “Let’s do a love-shot. It’s for team bondinggg~” He flashed her a grin, his voice dripping with sleaze.

Tzuyu froze, glancing away uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, I don’t really drink..” she murmured, clearly looking for a way out.

“Oh, come onnn~!” Heechul leaned in closer, his body practically pinning her against the wall which happened to be your back. “Don’t be shy. It’s just one drink~!”

That was enough.

Without missing a beat, you stood from your seat, a little unsteady from your own drinks but filled with purpose. 

“Boss-nim, how about… you come here!” You feigned excitement while the whole tables’ eyes were on you two

In a few steps you guided him and you closed the distance, slipping Heechul away from Tzuyu smoothly, effortlessly blocking her from his sight with your body while wrapping your forearm around his.

“How about this, Boss-nim?” you said with a playful grin, your voice steady despite the alcohol in your system. “Why don’t we take that love-shot together!?”

You leaned in closer, one arm propped against the wall beside his head, the other smoothly taking one of the glasses from his hand.

Heechul blinked, visibly surprised but clearly intrigued by your boldness. His smirk widened. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d be so forward, Intern #5.”

God did you hate this man.

You internally rolled your eyes as you tilted your head, giving him a fake smile. “Why not? I’m a big team player, right? ” You clinked his glass, maintaining your position between him and Tzuyu.

Heechul's initial shock melted into something more. His grin grew cockier, but now with a hint of appreciation. He raised his glass, eyeing you with newfound interest. “Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

You turned out to the table of people watching, letting the tension simmer. “To teamwork! ” You said, your voice is just loud enough for your table to hear.

Heechul clinked his glass against yours, his gaze still locked onto you. “To teamwork,” he echoed.

You both threw back the shots, and while the burn of the alcohol hit your throat, you couldn’t help but hide a face of disgust at the sight of Heechul staring at you with a mix of admiration and something else entirely.

As you set your glass down, you noticed some of the female coworkers nearby watching you both, whispering among themselves.

“Wow, did you see that?” one of them murmured, clearly impressed. “She totally flipped the situation and helped that one girl”

“Right? That was so smooth. She’s got some serious charm.”

“I think Heechul-nim’s  into her now.”

“Hell— I’m even into her now! What’s her name?”

Their whispers weren’t exactly quiet, and the compliments floated through the air, filling the space around you. You caught snippets of their words, and even in your slightly tipsy state, you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks due to flattery.

But then, you glanced at Tzuyu. Her usually soft expression was tight, her eyes focused on the table, hands gripping her drink a little too tightly. She wasn’t saying anything, but there was something in her silence—something that felt like quiet jealousy.

Before you could process it, Heechul broke the moment by leaning in toward you with a grin. “I’ve got to say, Intern #5, you’re full of surprises.”

You chuckled, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in your voice. “Gotta keep you on your toes, right boss-nim? Can’t let you make just anyone uncomfortable!” You said while slipping back into your seat

His laughter boomed through the room, seemingly laughing off that sly jab, the other colleagues joined in, you felt Tzuyu’s presence beside you, still silent, still reserved. You turned toward her, catching her gaze for just a brief moment, her eyes meeting yours before she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable.

Leaning down slightly, you whispered to her, “Hey, you okay?”

Tzuyu nodded, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just... tired. Maybe I’ll head home soon.”

“Oh! Please, I can walk you home,” you suggested, voice slightly slurred from the alcohol but laced with genuine concern.

Tzuyu glanced at you for a brief moment, her face unreadable. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice soft but clipped as she grabbed her things.

You both bowed respectfully to thank everyone for the dinner before slipping out the door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

The silence stretched between you as you followed behind her. Her long strides made it hard to keep up, and you couldn’t help but feel that she was walking with a certain purpose—like she was intentionally trying to get ahead of you while you were left following her like a loyal dog.

“Tzuyu-ya, what’s wrong?” you called after her, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to close the distance. She kept walking, her pace unfaltering, and for a moment, you wondered if she was genuinely trying to avoid you.

“Tzuyu-ya,” you called again, a little louder this time as she reached the edge of the bridge near her apartment. In a moment of panic, you gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

She froze.

“I’m so sorry… did I make you uncomfortable? Did you want Hee—” you started to ask, words tumbling out in your haste to apologize. Your heart sank at the mere thought that maybe you had overstepped, that maybe she had wanted to—

“Yes! You made me uncomfortable!” Tzuyu interrupted, spinning around to face you, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger.

You blinked, shocked. “I’m sorry... I thought you were trying to get away from—” Trying to explain

“You were being too cute!” Tzuyu blurted out, cutting you off again, her face flushed even darker as she averted her gaze, clearly flustered.

Your eyes widened at her sudden admission. "W-What?"

“You were being charming... in front of other women!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouting child. “Why would you do that? Are you trying to attract them? It was too charming!”

It all hit you at once. Her awkward silence, her reservedness during dinner—it wasn’t because of Heechul, it was because of you. Even through the fog of alcohol, you suddenly understood.

You took a step closer to her, your heart racing. “Tzuyu, I—” you began, but her vulnerability was so palpable in that moment, it stopped you in your tracks.

Without thinking, you reached up, cupping the right side of her face with your hand. Her skin was warm beneath your palm, and her breath hitched as your thumb gently caressed her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice low but steady. “I won’t do that again. I promise... my charm will only be saved for you, my Tzuyu.” You gave her a sweet smile

Tzuyu’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded as she looked up at you, absentmindedly nuzzling into your hand, her vulnerability so clear in the way she held your gaze. “It better be,” she murmured, though her words carried no real bite.

In that moment, the air between you felt thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread pulling you closer to her. Your heart pounded as you realized what you had/wanted to do.

Or maybe it was the alcohol in your veins? Or maybe the sheer need to kiss her right in that moment.

Tzuyu’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, but she didn’t pull away. She held your gaze, her breath shallow, her lips parted just slightly as if waiting for something—for you to make the first move.

And so, you did.

Without another word, you gently tilted her chin up with your thumb, leaning in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the warmth of her skin beneath your hand only urged you closer.

Your lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss—almost like a question. She responded with a slight, shy press of her lips against yours, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. You could feel the soft tremble of her shoulders beneath your hands, as if she was just as unsure and just as eager.

For a brief moment, the world outside disappeared—The bridge, the distant city sounds—all of it melted away.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you catching your breath. You felt her fingers brush against your hand, hesitant but full of meaning, as if she was silently asking, What now?

You smiled softly, your thumb tracing her cheek one last time before you whispered, “I meant it. It’s just you, my Tzuyu.”

Her lips curled into a small, bashful smile as she whispered back, “Just me.”

Maybe come Monday you’ll ask Jihyo for a permanent position on the third floor.

[miyacults]

red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

[lunamond]

The disproportionate hate show!Criston gets is so bizarre. No argument I’ve seen his haters make sofar has made any sense to me.

He is outside of Mysaria the only siginficant lowborn character we meet. He rises up from the son of a steward of a minor house to the position of King‘s Guard thanks to Rhaenyra, who then pressures him into having sex with her, sth that could get him executed. Afterwards she not just rejects his proposal, but laughs in his face.

And when as a result of this experience Criston is shown to be emotional distraught and bitter, people call him an incel? (I assume that they refer to his ideology and not his actual status as a celibate, because not being celibate is literally what started this mess)

It really rubs me the wrong way, when people remove all context from this situation. A lower class person getting a well-off position from a person with authority, who they then end up having sex with is ALWAYS a relationship with a power imbalance (Obviously there are irl relationships like this, who work out and manage to be relatively healthy, but that doesn‘t remove the imbalance of power and the increased likelyhood of abuse).

We see Criston‘s reluctance when Rhaenyra makes her move. It does not matter if Criston was attracted to her or not. The simple fact that he is in a vunerable position makes him denying her a risk. It also does not matter that Rhaenyra had no malicious intentions, the simple fact that she ignores Criston‘s refusal and continues pressuring make this whole scene super uncomfortable. Her ignorance and naivety does not erase the impact of her actions.

Criston growing to hate her afterwards is perfectly justified.

As a man who grew up in Westerosi society, he inevitably holds misogynist beliefs, which is reflected in the insults he uses after this. But compared to the acts of every single character on this show, singling out his character is pretty ludicrous, when we have plenty of male (and female) characters who have done worse:

Like commiting SA (Viserys, Aegon), grooming young girls (Viserys again! I really hate this man, Daemon, Otto, Corlys and Rhaenys because telling your daughter she has to sleep with a grown man when she is 14 is pretty much the same thing Otto does to Alicent) and the only major crime Criston is guilty of sofar: murder (Daemon killed his wife and the servant in Driftmark, also he did large scale police violence which people love to forget about, Rhaenys killed potentially hundreds of smallfolk at the coronation)

Obviously, anybody is allowed to dislike whatever character they want, but a lot of people flatten Criston into just a misogynistic bitter incel who is just mad that Rhaenyra has sex, ignoring every bit of context we get for his behaviour.

This becomes escpecially weird, when those same people have no problem stanning Daemon, who calls his 1st wife a „bitch“, „uglier than sheep“ and then murders her, because he sees her as inferior as a none-valyrian. But Criston calling Rhaenyra, a person he feels personally wronged by, a „spoiled cunt“ is apparently a too far.

It is just really frustating when the character with the canonically lowest social standing gets afforded the least amount of nuance by the fandom (the writers are obvs not excempt from this criticism either).

[altcvnningham]

pinprick {request}

adler x bell!reader x felix

request: for @reirats70, who asked for adler x bell!reader x felix !!

tags: nsfw mention, mdni, bell!reader, gn!reader (but the word 'pretty' is used to describe them), established adlerbell, mk ultra/separation mention, kissing, oral, author has never written felix before and is super nervous, adler is a little too happy for a man who should be in jail wc: 1.5k

a/n: slowly working through requests but this one was too exciting to pass up!! still a little hesitant to post full blown nsfw (when it isn't exclusively adlerbell at least) so i hope the lil spice included is okay :) this is my first time writing felix as well and i hope it satisfies!! thank you for the request <3

“It is quite interesting,” Felix muses to himself, almost as though you weren’t even there, held tight in his grasp and flitting restlessly like a moth in a mason jar. The latex-gloved hand that holds your face turns you back to face the light, where his eyes pierce yours again. “The way it seems to have left a scar in the iris. Pinprick. Almost imperceptible.”

Off to the side where even your periphery can’t quite catch, Adler sucks on a cigarette, leaning back against the cart table sat in the centre of the ops room; his presence lingers inauspiciously, as unavoidable as the smoke that billows in the air, huffed out in a plume of laughter from his unsmiling mouth.

“Yeah, well, with pretty eyes like Bell’s, you notice.”

The comment shouldn’t make your heart stir or your stomach flutter as pathetically as it does, but much like it always has, your body responds to Adler’s words in a way your mind detests to admit; he’s never been one for the most direct compliments, but the fact that this one isn’t even said to you somehow makes it all the more rousing to hear- like a dirty secret caught round an open doorway. As you attempt to turn your head to try and look at him, Felix interjects, a squeeze tighter around your flushed face.

“Very pretty. So, it was necessary to inject the compound straight into the eye?”

Suddenly the topic of conversation comes back into focus, the very reason for you being in your rather compromised position. With Harrow sequestered off in the other wing of the Rook bound to a chair, Adler had suggested to Marshall the use of Separation to help ease the process- or complicate it, you’d mumbled curtly- and had begun all misty-eyed to wax poetic about the night he’d used it on you, strapped to that gurney after Cuba. It’s a sickening topic to be caught in the middle of, left all the more a bitter taste in your mouth since Adler had made an unspoken vow never to bring up MK Ultra again. But in Felix’s piqued curiosity of the compound- be it vanity or a genuine willingness to pass knowledge along, Adler had offered to teach him how to make it, use it, how it worked. You want to scoff at him, as though he knew anything about the technical intricacies of the drug- though it isn’t as if he was about to drag Park back out of the desert just to give a more comprehensive lecture.

And for some reason, here you were, not quite the lab rat you were a decade ago but feeling painstakingly close to it, gaping up at Felix as his gaze runs you over like a man starved. Of what, you can’t possibly imagine. Hasn’t he had his fill of you enough these past weeks? Haven’t they both?

Adler’s voice pulls you back to the present, bookended by the faint chiming in the back of your mind. Ding.

“To get the desired results, yes,” Adler explains, barely regarding you with anything more than impartiality as he steps over next to Felix, studying you with similarly clinical indifference. “But I think this time just a shot to the neck should be enough. Harrow’s tough, but only ‘cause I taught her how to be. Trust me, the Achilles heel is there, she’ll crack easy.”

“Oh? And Bell was…?”

Adler smirks, and when he dips his head to peer at you over his aviators he actually looks at you, regarding you, not like the poked and prodded subject you’ve been for the last ten minutes, seemingly made of glass with the way their focus seemed to land through you entirely. A soft laugh leaves him- a rarity you cherish since he’s softened in his age- and he pinches your cheek, right above where Felix’s thumb secures a firm grip.

“Oh, Bell was a real tough nut to crack. We were there for hours. Stubborn thing, aren’t you?”

All you can really do is stare- you can barely open your mouth to talk, Felix’s hand squashing your face like a doll’s- but you suppose the question is a rhetorical one anyway, leaving Adler to bask in his smug superiority.

Felix chuckles, though his eyes don’t quite meet yours yet the way Adler’s does, instead now roving your face, the features made pink and prickled warm by the overwhelming attention from both men.

It’s a strange thing- you aren’t typically so flustered, certainly not around Adler, used to his bizarre attempts at affection, but Felix in particular had a way of making you feel special in the oddest ways. He’s direct, and that in contrast to Adler’s myriad riddles of non-answers and emotions shadowed over by impenetrable aviators made for… an interesting combination. Adler hadn’t changed much over the decade- a little softer around the edges, both in looks and temperament, but the sharp and jagged corners of your relationship still remains even with the mutable tenderness of passing time, not quite healing wounds so much as smacking a band-aid over the hole he’d nearly put in your head. That being said, you still ran circles around each other the same way you did back in Berlin, ever caught in the endless cat-and-mouse. Still fighting, still kissing, still not quite making up, then doing it all over again.

But Felix was to the point. There was rarely any guessing as to how he felt in your presence. Terse when impatient, rigid when agitated, but sweet and heartfelt, with a certain compassion that surprised you. His affection came easy, unbidden- a little shy at times, but he wore his heart on his sleeve, and admiration on his face clearly enough that Adler had eventually caught on. And where you’d feared that Adler would only increase his vigilance, tighten his grip on your leash, and usher his bird back into their gilded cage, rather, he was unexpectedly content to let Felix indulge his affections for you, to the point that now you felt… shared, almost.

An odd thing indeed.

If you could recall how it started, it was subtle and slow, very nearly unnoticeable. A graze of the knuckles here, a helping hand staying just a moment too long there. Adler sending you on fetch quests for the ex-Stasi, then turning to abscond with him in another room and vanish. Inklings of hushed conversations shared between them across the room, their eyes pointed to you with wry, bitten smiles. It was like having a pretty secret dangled right in front of your nose, but just so very barely out of reach that it was nigh insufferable.

Maddening, until those subtle scrapes turned to shared touches, Adler showing you off like a prize pony to Felix who’d all but watch in awe. You’d always been something akin to Adler’s reluctant pet, even back in the old days. You could never imagine how quickly you’d reassume the role, even after the years had whittled the effectiveness of your trigger phrase to nothing but empty words he’d occasionally use to mock you. As if you’d need it to do as he pleases. As if you’d need an incentive at all when the starry glint in Felix’s eyes is reward enough.

And it’s always been hard to keep up with Adler; with them both, it takes herculean effort to so much as keep your head straight. It’s one thing to have them dote attention upon you as they do now, and another thing entirely to find yourself one night in the kitchen as the whole house slept, held with your back to Adler’s chest in a vice grip, his tongue in your mouth, while Felix’s worked in near reverent devotion between your legs like a man starved. Your whimpers silenced only by the way they’d swap to take turns quicker than you could let go of the breath you’d been holding, keening over and relinquishing your hands to slide into blond tresses once more. With blind pleasure hewing your focus to a pinprick, it’d get harder to distinguish who was who, only able to discern the distinct pinching of latex gloves into the plush of your ass, or the scrape of pitted sandpaper scars along the inside of your thigh. A crazed thing, did it not excite you so much.

You blink back to the present moment when you feel the light, patronising smack of Felix’s hand against your cheek, pale blue latex nipping soft skin. He’s smiling, eyes bright with amusement, and in your daze you must have missed something, because you catch Adler’s smirk off to the side, remnants of a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Felix muses.

“Enough chatter. Let’s see what we can do to help Adler with this Separation, hm?”

And before you can so much as attempt to blurt a response he squeezes your face again, puckering your mouth, and plants a chaste- if not teasing- kiss upon your lips.

[lilstarkeydream]

Hidden Flames- Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N, a Kook who prefers the company of her Pogue friends, falls for Rafe Cameron. Despite their growing feelings, they maintain a facade due to their conflicting social circles and personal insecurities. Y/N is best friends with Sarah, Rafe's sister, which fuels Rafe's hidden affection. He despises how Y/N hangs out with the Pogues, believing she has more potential, while Y/N can't stand Rafe's for fights and stuck up nature. After a dramatic confrontation, they confess their feelings but must keep their relationship secret, with only Sarah in the know.

Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, Smut, Adult language, Violence, Alcohol use

Authors note: Hey guys! This is my first time writing any fan fiction, so go easy on me but I hope you enjoy. I am hoping to have another chapter up within the next week, as well as a series navigation. Feel free to send requests if you have story ideas for Rafe (check my bio).

7.1k words

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It was 9 o'clock on a Friday night. Nightfall had crept up before you knew it, and the island was alive with the buzz of another wild party. After a long day working at the golf course, you headed straight to your best friend Sarah Cameron’s white mansion. Known as the Kook princess, Sarah had welcomed you into her world since you moved to the island in middle school. The Cameron residence had become your second home, between sleepovers, getting ready for parties, and just gossip sessions. Despite the bitter fallout between Sarah and Kiara, which shattered your once inseparable trio, you managed to stay close to both, splitting your life between Kooks and Pogues. 

Sarah's boyfriend, Topper, was a constant presence. As her older brother’s best friend, he was also practically part of the family. You weren’t super fond of Topper, as he could be a self-entitled asshole, but he made her happy for the most part- besides their weekly fights and Topper getting mad at Sarah for the littlest of things. He made her happy that’s all that mattered. Rafe Cameron is Sarah's older brother and Topper's best friend, he was also a self-entitled asshole, who you, unfortunately, had to see on a weekly basis, due to the mutual connection. Topper and Rafe also golfed a lot, leaving the interactions unavoidable since you worked as a Bev cart girl for extra cash. Rafe was insufferable, to say the least, he always found a way to make your life a living nightmare. 

Your other time is spent hanging out with the Pogues- JJ, John B, Kiara, and Pope. Both you and Kiara are technically Kooks, but honestly, that lifestyle became too much for you both all the time. Hence how you found your best friends, the Pogues. The Pogues offered freedom, adventure, and a sense of belonging you hadn’t found anywhere else. Your parents disapproved, deeming your Pogue friends as bad influences. They never understood why you would want to degrade your self-worth and reputation, but they don’t understand how intoxicating Kook life can truly be. Your life felt like a constant balancing act, a war between the adventurous and fulfilling life as Pogues and the obligations of being a Kook. 

Now, you were at Sarah’s house, frantically trying to find the perfect outfit for the party, rummaging through her expensive wardrobe. You were caught between wanting to look sexy or slutty, and trying to distract yourself from the anger simmering from your encounter at work earlier that day. Every dress you held up seemed to fall short of the image you had in mind. Rafe Cameron had made yet another one of his insufferable comments, making it impossible to focus. You tried to shake off the previous encounter from the golf course.

Earlier that afternoon, the golf course was bathed in golden sunlight, creating the perfect atmosphere for your shift. As the beverage cart girl, you were used to dealing with the occasional lewd remark or entitled attitude from the Kook golfers, but Rafe always took it a step further. You had just finished serving drinks to a group of older businessmen when Rafe called over, his smirk as infuriating as ever, signaling he only wanted to cause you chaos

"Hey there, service girl," he said, leaning against the cart with an exaggerated casualness with the usually smug grin hung on his face. "Nice to see you finally doing something useful for once."

You forced a tight smile, hoping to get through the interaction without causing a scene. "Can I get you anything, Rafe?"

"Yeah, how about a little respect?" he sneered back, his body language reeking of mockery. "Or is that too much to ask from a Pogue-wannabe like you?"

Your hands instantly tightened on the steering wheel of the cart, every muscle in your body screaming at you to say something back, to put him in his place. If anything he was even worse. But you knew better. Engaging would only escalate the situation, and Rafe thrived on conflict, he wanted you to respond with a snarky comment. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, preparing his drink and handing it to him with forced politeness and a tight-lip smile on your face. 

"Here you go, Rafe. Enjoy your day."

He took the drink, his fingers brushing yours in a way that felt more like a taunt than an accident. "Don't screw it up too badly tonight, alright? Wouldn't want you embarrassing Sarah in front of everyone."

The comment stung more than you cared to admit. It wasn't just his words; it was how he always managed to make you feel small and insignificant- solidifying your existing insecurities. As he walked away, laughing with his friends, you felt the familiar mix of anger and frustration bubble up inside you.

As you were brought back from daydreaming your anger only grew, causing you to blurt out your day's frustration, "I fucking hate him, Sarah. All he does is go around doing drugs and causing fights. I was so close to flipping out today." pacing around Sarah’s room, venting. You already debriefed Sarah on the whole incident, but you couldn’t help but talk about it again. Your usual thick skin was not feeling so intact. 

Sarah looked at you with her empathic face, sighing, trying to calm you down "Y/N, you know he just tries to get under your skin. It’s what Rafe does."

Frustrated, you rolled your eyes, "He doesn't care about my feelings. He thinks I’m a total disgrace to the Kook name. Maybe he’s right. I don’t give a shit about the Kook life and do half of what I do to please my parents."

You continued pacing, finally settling on a black dress that hugged your curves, pairing it with your simple burgundy swimsuit underneath. Leaving your hair down, you opted for simple strap sandals, finally feeling ready for the night. 

Rafe Cameron is a special kind of infuriating. You try to tolerate him, you do, but his constant snarky comments about every aspect of your life makes him incredibly punchable. No matter how tall and handsome he might be, it didn’t matter in this instance. You could handle some comments, but you weren’t a complete pushover.

Sarah trying to steer the conversation to a happier note, in an attempt to diffuse your anger “Let's just go to this party, get blasted drunk, meet some people, and forget about tonight. Rafe isn't worth the stress."

Taking a deep breath, you knew she was right, momentarily letting go of your anger “You’re right. I’m not going to let him ruin our night. Let’s go have some fun." Finally settling down from your pacing, you put the final touches on your makeup sitting down in front of Sarah’s mirror.

“I know I’m right Y/N” giving me a loving side glance “Plus why does it matter what he thinks anyway. He’s always high and pissed off”. She paused for a second, finishing up her hair. “Alright, we're all ready to go and get drunk as fuck?” she said with a smug look on her face. 

You took a deep breath, letting the tension of the day slip away. Sarah's carefree attitude was contagious, and despite everything, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. She might be a little blind to her brother's flaws, especially since she was dating Topper and their worlds were so intertwined, but she was still your best friend.

After a quick car drive and lots of shuffling through Sarah’s mixed-genre playlist, you arrived at the more-than-alive scene of the party. You weren’t even sure whose house it was but hell that didn’t matter. A party is a party. Music instantly fills your ears as soon as you step out of the car. The front yard was packed with people, a mixture of Kooks and Pogues mingling together, the tension of their social divide momentarily forgotten. Almost serving as a symbol for what your pogue-kook life looked like. 

Walking through the front door, the house was a blur of lights and laughter. You made your way to the kitchen, the center of every good party. You hugged Sarah as she wanted to venture off to find Topper, as usual, but you didn’t mind. You needed a little break to gather your thoughts anyway. The familiar scent of expensive cologne and perfume mingled with the heavy aroma of alcohol and smoke, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Grabbing a red solo cup from the stack, you filled it with a generous amount of a strong mix of whatever was handy—tonight was about forgetting the week’s frustrations. You took a small sip, wincing slightly at the strong taste, but internally smiling at the immediate warmth of the alcohol that spread through your chest.

The drink was strong, probably vodka, but you needed it. As you leaned against the counter, you took a moment to take in the scene around you. The living room was a blur, with loud music thumping in conjunction with conversation and laughter. 

Despite the alive atmosphere, the exchange between you and Rafe still lurked in your mind. Sometimes you felt like a Kook who didn’t quite fit in, you have well-off parents and a promising paved future with privilege and opportunity. Your parents envisioned you with a successful career, bringing pride and status to the family name. Yet, you were never a huge fan of the behavior the Kook lifestyle manifested, often self-centered, ignorant, asshole-like individuals. Rafe is a great example of that.

With your drink secure in your hand, you pushed yourself off the counter and made your way through the house outside to the bonfire. You felt a wave of relief as soon as the fresh ocean air hit your face, heat from the fire mixed with the ocean breeze creating a perfect party atmosphere. You spotted your friends - JJ, John B, Kiara, and Pope, sitting around the fire, laughing about something stupid JJ said. The genuine joy is clear on their faces, contrasting with the pretentious kook attitudes.

With a big grin on your face, you called out, “Hey guys, mind if I join you?”

Kiara’s eyes lit up in recognition of your face, “Y/N! Get over here, come sit down. We were just talking about crazy stuff JJ pulled off last week. “ 

As you settled in, the warmth of the fire continued to provide comfort as well as your friends began to ease your previous tense state. JJ went into vivid detail about his last mischievous adventure, our expressions displaying a mix of disbelief and laughter at his antics. The conversation effortlessly flowed, sharing jokes and stories that had everyone laughing until their stomachs hurt. I could feel the effects of the alcohol starting to take effect. In other words, the night was perfect. For a moment, it felt like everything in the world was right. These moments with your Pogue friends were ones that you cherished most. They made you feel alive, grounded, and understood; something you missed out on in your Kook life.

Eventually, you reached the bottom of the solo cup, signaling a refill was needed. Standing up, you navigate your way back to the kitchen, passing both Kooks and Pogues you couldn’t put a name to. The house became a maze, with more people filing in as the night was still young. As you reached the familiar environment of the kitchen for the bottle of Vodka, you suddenly bumped into someone. Looking up, you found yourself face to face with the one and only Rafe Cameron, his ocean-blue eyes, slightly glazed with alcohol and god knows what other drugs, looking down at you. His presence was overwhelming, you could smell a mixture of his cologne and the sharpness of vodka. 

Rafe smirked down at you drunk, “Well, well, look who decided to slum it with the Pogues tonight. Have you decided you're finally trying to find yourself a real man, Y/N?”

His words were a direct hit causing you to look away, annoyance taking over your face, however, you kept your cool, “Just enjoying the party, Rafe. Not that any of it is your business” 

Rafe took a step closer, lowering his voice for only you to hear, “Everything you do is my business, Y/N. Don't you forget that?” His sudden proximity made your heart race, you felt a mix of anger and something else- something else you wouldn’t dare to acknowledge.

Flustered, you shot back, “Fuck off, Rafe. You don’t care about me.” You angrily push him away, your hands firm against the muscles of his chest, and quickly turn around, making your way back to your friends. The interaction with Rafe left you shaken, the interaction making you once again feel so small yet so noticed. You quickly downed two more drinks, trying to steady your nerves. Taking in Sarah’s words from earlier to just try and enjoy the night.

As the alcohol coursed through your veins, you started to feel a pleasant buzz, hoping the tension was behind you. You felt engulfed by your friend's laughter with the warmth of the fire.

Suddenly, your mood shifted once again, as you saw Rafe Cameron making his way towards the bonfire. This time more drunk and agitated. 

As Rade approaches he spits "Y/N, you think you can just walk away from me like that?"

You stood up, the alcohol giving you a false sense of courage. "What the hell do you want, Rafe? Can't you just leave me alone?"

Rafe rolled his eyes, continuing to mock you “Oh, look at you. Acting all tough in front of your Pogue friends. You’ll never be a pogue Y/N, just give it up!"

The Pogues immediately rose to your defense, with John B stepping forward. "Back off, Rafe. She doesn't need to deal with your shit tonight." John B stepping between you and Rafe. 

Topper, along with a few other Kooks, approached to back up Rafe. "Stay out of it, John B. This is between Rafe and Y/N."

Tensions escalated quickly as insults were thrown back and forth. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you, the entire party was now focused on the showdown. Anxiety coursing through your body, unsure of why Rafe had a sudden interest making his hatred for you a public display.

Rafe's voice grew louder, more aggressive. "You're just a joke, Y/N. You’re pathetic. You don’t belong with us Kooks, and you never will."

Your anger boiled over, you began to raise your voice. "And who are you to decide where I belong? You’re just a spoiled brat who thinks he can control everyone."

Rafe's eyes flashed with anger, and he took a step closer. "You’re going to regret saying that."

Before you could react, Rafe shoved you. The force of his push sent you stumbling backward. The Pogues immediately rushed to your side, while the Kooks moved in to support Rafe. The scene erupted into chaos, with shoving and shouting escalating into a full-blown brawl. 

John B and Topper exchanged punches, while JJ and Pope tried to hold back the other Kooks. Even with the chaos, Rafe's eyes remained locked on yours, his anger still burning. 

You struggled to regain your balance, your head spinning from the mix of alcohol and adrenaline. Kiara was at your side in an instant, helping you to your feet. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

You nodded weakly, brushing off your clothes and fixing your hair. "I think so. I didn’t hit my head or anything. I’m just really drunk." You instantly are brought back to reality realizing there’s still a fight going on, in an attempt to break it up, you make your way to John B. and Rafe.

"Stop it, Rafe!" you shouted, trying to pull him away from the fight. "This isn’t worth it!"

Ignoring you, Rafe lunged at John B again, but you stepped in between them, pushing Rafe back with all your strength. "I said, stop it!"

Sarah appeared behind Topper, her face prominent with both frustration and concern. She darted between the fighters, yelling at Rafe and Topper. "Stop it, you idiots! This is so stupid!"

Sarah was still trying to break up the fight, her voice cutting through the air. "Rafe, Topper, knock it off! You're acting like complete assholes!"

Breathing heavily, Rafe finally relented, his eyes still locked on you. He remained silent putting his hands up. Before turning around and walking away he muttered, “Dirty pogues.” You glared back at him, your chest heaving, at a loss for words.

As the thrill from the fight finally died down, everyone began to disperse, the calming party atmosphere now shattered. You turned away from the bonfire, heading toward the beach to clear your head. JJ tried to stop you from leaving telling you to stay with them, all you could do was shake your head, knowing the complexity of your emotions was too much right now. The cool night air did little to calm your racing heart. You began to feel tears prick in your eyes, the emotions of the recent events starting to overtake you. Your chest tightened as you began to silently cry, tears streaming down your face. The alcohol did little to nothing to suppress the storm. 

You were still wondering about Rafe's sudden outburst of emotion aimed toward you. He’s said many rude comments to you in the past about you hanging with the Pogues, and how it’s like you aren’t a real Kook. But never this confrontational. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the drugs. But his anger was more intense, more personal. The same feeling as earlier began to rise, the one you don’t dare to acknowledge, was there another reason for his sudden interest? 

You walked along the shoreline, the sound of the ocean filling your eyes, the waves crashing against the sand. The consistency of the ocean brings you a brief sense of relief from the chaos you were wrapped up in. Despite the beauty around you, the moonlight reflecting on the water, you felt the rage boil inside you, coming with another wave of tears.

Rafe's actions tonight suggested something more, tonight hinted at a complexity you hadn’t quite considered before. You wiped your tears with your arm, frustration continuing to bubble up within you. 

Why did he care so much about who you spent your time with? Why was he always your prying eyes, always judging? The more you ponder these ideas, the more confused you become. You couldn’t deny a spark you felt when he was close, but even if that was true, it was too deeply buried underneath many layers of anger and resentment. 

As you were still deep in your thoughts, staring out into the ocean, looking for some sort of answer, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You turned to see Rafe following you, his expression unreadable. "Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. 

You crossed your arms, the moonlight glowing over your soft features. Rafe could see your clear hurt expression and tear-stained cheeks. “What could you possibly want Rafe? Haven’t you caused enough trouble tonight” You demanded, despite your voice trembling due to hurt and sorrow

Rafe sighed, looking away, running his hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I don’t know Y/N.” he paused for a second, words hanging heavily between you “Maybe I just… I just wanted to talk”

You scoffed at this almost instantly, and you began to turn around and walk away “You have a weird way of showing it? Insulting me, pushing me, hurting my friends.” you spat back, nothing but bitterness in your voice, unwillingly for him to truly see how deeply his actions hurt you.

But his footsteps continued to follow you, “Please” he pleaded, reaching out to grab your arm gently, causing you to turn around to face him. Your heart skipped a beat despite your anger still present. “Just… give me a chance y/n” 

Your mind raced, surprised by his vulnerability, you paused and looked up into his eyes. In this moment, the resentment you too held for each other seemed to melt away, leaving something raw and unspoken in its place. You hated the way he made you feel so small and judged yet here he was at the same time, his vulnerable voice struck something else in you, making you hesitate. Quickly second guessing if you’d regret giving him a chance to talk to you. Opening the possibility of finding out the motives behind his spite and arrogance. The scene from earlier races across your mind. 

All you could do was mutter softly, “What could you possibly want to talk to me about, Rafe? To hurt me again? To prove that I don’t belong? I thought you made it clear your feelings towards me.” your voice breaking even more with every word. 

Rafe's grip on your arm tightened slightly, just enough for you not to walk away. He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "Y/N, I know I've been a complete asshole. I know I've hurt you and pushed you away, but... it’s because I didn’t know how else to handle this. Handle us."

"Us?" you echoed, confused and overwhelmed.

"Yes, us," he said, stepping closer. "I can't stop thinking about you. It drives me crazy seeing you with them, with the Pogues. I hate it because I... I care about you." You searched his eyes, looking for a sense of truth behind his words. Could it be that all his hostility was masking something deeper he felt?

His confession left you stunned. You had always thought Rafe hated you. Ever since you knew Sarah, Rafe was only rude to you. Rolling his eyes every time he saw you, purposefully causing hell for you on the golf course, yet being overprotective when it came to you hanging with the pogues. These new emotions were a lot to take in, something you’d never think for Rafe Cameron to admit. 

“Why Rafe?” you spoke, your voice still barely above a whisper, “Why do you care so much about who I’m with?”

He hesitated at this, not sure whether to reveal the truth to his bitterness, “Because… because it’s you y/n” his voice finally breaking at his vulnerability, “Because you’re different. You make me feel things I don’t want to feel. I don’t know how to handle this.” 

Before you could process all of it, still looking wide-eyed at Rafe, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. It was soft at first, hesitant, but then it grew more passionate. A knot in your stomach growing, the sensation of his lips felt like none other. You kissed him back, your heart pounding, swearing you never wanted this moment to end. This new side of Rafe was one you never wanted to end. 

Rafe pulled away abruptly, his eyes wide with regret. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I—" Against your best judgment, you closed the distance again, kissing him more passionately this time. The alcohol must’ve taken over the rational thinking of this situation, the four drinks you had taking its full effect. The moment his lips met yours, a surge of heat spread through your body, making your heart race and your skin tingle. His lips were surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his usual rough demeanor.

His hands gently cupped your face, his touch both tender and possessive, sending shivers down your spine. Every movement of his lips against yours was intoxicating, drowning out the chaos of the party and the world around you. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his breath, mingling with a hint of something sweet and entirely Rafe.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a mix of emotions – anger, desire, confusion, and an unexpected tenderness. It was as if all the tension, all the animosity between you, had been building up to this moment, where words were no longer necessary. Your mind struggled to keep up with the rush of feelings, but your body responded instinctively, leaning into him, craving more of his touch.

In that kiss, you felt a vulnerability you had never seen in Rafe before. It was raw and unfiltered, a glimpse into the complex layers beneath his tough exterior. The kiss was a silent confession, a bridge between your worlds that had been divided for so long. It was overwhelming, exhilarating, and left you breathless, with your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the sheer intensity of it all.

You both pulled away from the kiss, both breathless, your head swirling with a mix of new emotions. 

Rafe still noticed your still drunken state, leaving you in no condition to stay alone, “Y/n you shouldn’t be alone right now. Do you want a ride? You can stay the night at my house.” 

Despite your best judgment, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Sure” is all you could muster out. Even if this was just for one night, you didn’t want these feelings to end. The intimate moment between you and Rafe was far from unexpected, and it was probably the alcohol but hell you didn’t want this night to end. You got out your phone and texted Sarah and the Pogues, letting them know you were getting a ride home and not to wait up for you, telling them you just needed some time to clear your head. You felt guilty for lying to your friends but you couldn’t help but wonder what the night held. 

Rafe led you to his truck, and the cold air flushed against your warm skin. Rafe opened the door for you, his touch lingering on your arm, you climbed in, your mind racing. The car ride was silent, but not awkward. You both stole glances at each other, the kiss and the rush of new emotions lingered in the air between you, heavy with unspoken words and possibilities. You couldn’t help but feel torn. On one hand, you saw a side of Rafe that was genuine and sincere, something that made you want to trust him. His body language, the way he carefully watched the road but still glanced at you, and his words from earlier all hinted at a deeper truth.

On the other hand, you couldn’t shake the nagging guilt and doubt. Trusting Rafe felt like betraying the Pogues, your friends who had been there for you through thick and thin. They despised him, and for good reason. His past actions, the way he treated you and others, loomed large in your mind. Was this a mistake? Would you regret this in the morning?

When you arrived at the Cameron residence, you both carefully and silently made your way up to Rafe's room, you were already familiar with the layout of his house due to being here millions of times hanging out with Sarah. Although despite the numerous hangouts, you have never once been into Rafe's room.

When you entered his room, you weren’t surprised by the size but more taken aback by the simplicity yet authenticity of his room. The smell of his cologne filling your nose, being the main aroma of his room. The room was dominated by a king-sized bed, neatly made with dark blue and grey bedding. In one corner stood a large grey sofa, both the bed and the sofa facing a ginormous TV mounted on the wall. His room was so organized, not a spec of clothing on the floor, it seemed like everything had its place. His dresser took you by the most surprise, it wasn’t even the dresser itself but the picture frames scattered on top of it, Rafe looked happy in all of them, yet again a new side of Rafe you haven’t seen.

Pulled out of your thoughts, Rafe comes back from rummaging through his closet and hands you some spare clothes for you to sleep in. You offered him a warm smile in exchange and made your way to the bathroom to change.

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind you, a surge of conflicting emotions hit you like a wave. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your face flushed from both the alcohol and the events of the night. Questions and doubts flooded your mind. What were you doing here? Why had you agreed to stay? The uncertainty was eating at your stomach, making your heart race.

You began to change into the clothes Rafe had given you, the feel of the soft fabric against your skin oddly comforting. As you pulled his t-shirt over your head, engrossed by his scent, intensifying your internal conflict. Why did his presence, his touch, and his kiss stir such strong emotions within you?

The memory of the kiss flashed through your mind. The vulnerability you had seen in Rafe, the raw intensity of the moment, it all felt so real. The feeling you didn’t want to acknowledge came rising back, feeling uneasy about facing these emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You were witnessing a side of Rafe that made you question everything you thought you knew.

Once you emerged for the bathroom noticing Rafe already changed into some grey shorts and an old t-shirt, Rafe looked up and said, “You can have my bed tonight.” His voice was low and tired, “I’ll take the Sofa. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

You hesitated at his words, feeling a mix of uncertainty and trust. Despite everything, despite your best judgment and all the hatred you’ve had towards Rafe for years, it all seemed to fade in that moment, you found yourself shyly saying, “Can you sleep in the bed, please? It’s a big bed, plus it would make me feel safer.”

Partially knowing your need to feel safe was a lie, you felt a deeper pull in your gut—a need for his presence. Rafe paused at your response, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, “Are you sure y/n?”

You nodded at him reassuring him of your answer. Rafe turned off the lights, only the moon illuminating a path to the bed. Both of you got into the bed, lying down side by side. The silence was thick with unspoken words and new feelings, and the room was charged with the intensity of the night’s events. The bed felt enormous with the space left between you, a sharp contrast from your previous closeness.

Lying there, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, a tangible reminder of how close he was. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process everything that had happened. You had always seen Rafe as the enemy, the source of your frustrations, but now he was something different, something you couldn't quite define. The kiss tonight felt like it changed everything you thought you knew about him. You saw Rafe with lots of girls at parties but never seen him touch them or kiss them the way he did to you. 

Rafe turned to you, interrupting your thoughts, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you tonight. I just... I don't know how to deal with these feelings. I’m sorry"

You turned towards him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes despite the darkness. "Rafe, why now? Why tonight?" The alcohol seemed to be fading from your system.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and over his face, clearly still confused with his emotions, "I don't know. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's just everything catching up to me. But when I saw you tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked beautiful tonight y/n, I’ve tried to push it away, but I can’t anymore."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "Rafe, this is all so confusing. I've always thought you hated me. I’ve been friends with Sarah for so long, and all you ever did was give me death glares"

Rafe shook his head, his hand closing around yours. "I never hated you, Y/N. I was just too scared to admit how I felt. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. The truth is I’ve always liked you. You’re gorgeous y/n, I can never keep my eyes off of you." You could tell this was hard for him to admit, not being of the emotional type, but his confession tugged at your heartstrings. 

The raw honesty in his voice stirred something deep within you. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, capturing his lips in another kiss. He wrapped his hand around your waist pulling you closer. Your hand resting on the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his muscles. This kiss was softer, and more tender, but still charged with the same intensity and emotions as before. 

Rafe pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "I didn’t mean to complicate things."

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's okay, Rafe. Maybe we both needed this."

Rafe's hands cupped your face, reconnecting your lips with a deeper kiss, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. The kiss was more than just a kiss; it was a confession, a release of everything you both had been holding back. You could feel the desperation in his touch, the way his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "I need you."

The words sent a chill through you, and you responded with equal intensity. "I need you too, Rafe. I want you” 

He could feel the warmth of your body through his fingertips, a reminder of how vulnerable this moment was. His hands were steady, yet there was a slight tremor, betraying the storm of emotions he was feeling. Rafe slept with women before but it was never a feeling like this, he never felt nervous. 

As he slid your shirt off your shoulders, his eyes never left yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a silent question asking if this was truly okay. When you nodded, the trust in your eyes sent a wave of relief and gratitude through him. His touch grew bolder, his fingers trailing down your sides, savoring the feel of your skin.

When he finally reached the waistband of your pants, Rafe paused, taking a deep breath. This was it—the point of no return. He met your gaze again, searching for any sign of hesitation, but found only the same longing mirrored in your eyes. Slowly, he pulled your pants down, his hands skimming your legs, committing every detail to memory, not knowing if this moment would happen again. Rafe's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, every inch of you in this intimate moment. 

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity

Rafe's heart raced as he stood back to take in the sight of you, fully exposed and completely trusting. There was a deep sense of awe mixed with desire, It was a connection, a moment of raw honesty between two people who had spent so long hiding their true feelings. He was nervous, not wanting to mess up this chance to show you how he truly felt, and that nervousness translated into gentleness. As he leaned in to kiss you again, his hands exploring your body with newfound confidence, he felt a surge of emotion he couldn't quite put into words—a mix of fear and excitement. 

At that moment, Rafe realized just how much he wanted this, and wanted you, and he vowed to himself that he would make this night unforgettable for both of you.

As Rafe reached for the hem of his shirt, you felt a rush of anticipation mixed with butterflies in your stomach. The reality of the situation hit you all at once, making your heart race, but you’ve never wanted him so badly. When Rafe lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest and muscular arms, you couldn't help but stare. The moonlight filtering through the window highlighted the contours of his body, casting shadows that emphasized his athletic build.

Your hands instinctively reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. His skin was warm and smooth under your touch, and you could feel the subtle quiver in his body, betraying his nervousness. As you explored his chest with your hands, you were overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. There was a deep, unspoken understanding between you, a silent acknowledgment of the complexity of your relationship. You didn’t know if this feeling would be there tomorrow, both of you silently promising to make the most of tonight. 

Your breath hitched as you moved closer, pressing your body against his. The feel of his skin against yours was intoxicating, heightening your senses and deepening the connection between you. Every kiss and every touch was filled with a newfound intensity, a reflection of the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

In that moment, you realized just how much you wanted this, wanted him. All the years of misunderstanding seemed to fade away, replaced by a powerful need to be close to him, to understand him in a way you never had before. As you lost yourselves in each other, you felt a sense of completeness, as if this was where you were meant to be all along.

Rafe's hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch with a hunger that matched your own. You arched into his touch, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as he found all the right spots. It was overwhelming, the sheer intensity of it all, but you didn’t want it to stop. Rafe broke the kiss and began slowly trailing down your neck, his mouth latching onto your breast, swirling your nipple, flicking and sucking, while his other hand cupped your other breast, kneading and teasing until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

He seemed to know exactly how to drive you wild, alternating between gentle caresses and firm, deliberate touches. His hand slowly trailed down your stomach, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin, before finally slipping between your thighs. You gasped as he found your entrance, his fingers stroking and circling, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Rafe's mouth never left your breast as he continued to pleasure you with his hand, his fingers moving in and out in a rhythm that matched the quickening beat of your heart. He added another finger, stretching and filling you, his thumb expertly finding your most sensitive spot. The combined sensations of his mouth on your breast and his hand between your legs sent you spiraling toward the edge. 

Just as you were about to tip over into bliss, he stopped abruptly, pulling his hand away. A whine escaped your lips, craving his touch once again. As scanned your eyes from approval one last time, he lined himself up with your entrance. With a gentle touch, Rafe guided himself into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He moved slowly at first, giving you time to adjust, but soon the urgency took over, and his movements became faster, more desperate. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. 

Pressing his body deeper into yours, you felt instant pleasure. You could see in his eyes that he felt it too—the same overwhelming pleasure, the same intense connection. You swore on your life you never felt something as good as his. Your moans filled the air and he picked up the pace. Rafe has never felt so exposed, yet so open to another person. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be even an inch away from you. The intensity of it all was almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want it to stop.

You lost track of time, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, building higher and higher until you felt like you might explode. Rafe's name spilled from your lips, laced with need and desire. You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more erratic.

With a final, powerful thrust, you both came undone, your bodies trembling with the intensity of your release. The climax washed over you in waves, each more intense than the last, leaving you breathless and completely satisfied. Rafe collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both tried to catch your breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly, matching the frantic beat of your own heart as you clung to each other.

The silence was filled with a new kind of intimacy, the kind that comes from sharing something profound. As your breathing slowly returned to normal, you became aware of the lingering warmth of his body against yours, and the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was a moment of pure bliss, that you wished could last forever.

You could feel Rafe's fingers gently stroking your back, his touch tender and reassuring. The connection between you felt stronger than ever, a bond forged not just in passion, but a sense of trust that had developed between you. A feeling you had never experienced before, a sense of completeness that made you never want to leave his side. Your mind couldn’t help but drift to the complexity of your relationship and the uncertainties that the future held. You tried to push the worries to the back of your mind, savoring the moment of how his body felt against yours.

As you drifted off to sleep, Rafe’s arms wrapped around you protectively, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the two of you. You knew that this moment was fleeting, that the reality of your complicated relationship would come crashing back in the morning, but for now, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling of being close to him. You held onto a string of hold that maybe, this could last.

--——----------————- ❥・-------------------------

Chapter 2

Please like and repost so I know to post more chapters:)🫶 Thank you for reading!

[floweycidal]

the whole thing's devastating in itself, but would you guys believe me if i told you this part specifically makes me so super sad

flowey doesn’t allow himself to feel the snow. not really. he won’t talk about how the cold steadies him, or how it stirs memories of simpler times. he avoids thinking about the quiet. the way the world slows down under the weight of winter, how everything feels softer, almost bearable.

the peace feels too close. too easy.

thoughts like that aren’t for him. perhaps they never were. they belong to someone else. and flowey doesn’t get to be him. not anymore.

so, instead, he ignores it. kills it in its infancy. turns away from the idea before it drags up pieces of a life he refuses to remember. he acts like happiness isn’t something that should happen to him. a mistake. an error in the system that needs to be corrected.

there’s always this jaggedness to his words, something sharp enough to keep anything tender at bay. if something feels good, he cuts it down to size—turns it bitter, spits it back out as cruelty. it’s instinct by now, as natural as breathing.

that’s what flowey does. he tears things apart before they can convince him he deserves more. after all, it’s much easier to laugh at the world than to feel it.

this is just the way things are. the way they have to be.

the softness never feels right anyway. it’s awkward, like trying to cup water in clenched fists. like touching something delicate with hands meant only to destroy.

he’s flowey. he has to be flowey. and flowey doesn’t get to savor things. he doesn’t stop to enjoy the way the snow hushes the world or let the cold bite just enough to remind him he’s alive.

he knows better.

there's almost comfort in that. in shutting things down, in turning them brittle before they can take root. it’s neat. predictable. safe. no dangerous hope worming its way into places it doesn’t belong. no warmth overstaying its welcome. just the same old ache he’s carried for as long as he can remember—steady, familiar, dull.

manageable.

because if he let something good in… what then?

would it stay? refuse to leave? would it start to matter?

would he start to matter?

flowey knows exactly who he is. the villain. the failure. the one who tried to make things right and only made it worse. if there was ever a chance to be anything else, it’s long gone. whatever good might have existed in him has been buried beneath years of mistakes, smothered by everything he couldn’t save.

he had a plan once. a way to undo it all. make things right again. but it didn’t work. he didn’t work. he couldn’t save chara. couldn't save the monsters.

couldn’t even save himself.

and this… this is what’s left.

flowey. the version of him that learned to survive by not needing anything. the one who gave up on hope, joy, and peace because letting them in would mean the walls he built were never needed at all.

it would mean that somewhere inside, there’s still something soft. something worthy.

and he doesn’t know how to live with that. he’s not even sure he wants to.

control is all that makes sense anymore. he decides when the pain comes, how much, and from whom. he decides. no one else.

he’s built everything on that control—this image of who he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to feel. but what if he stopped? what if he let the bitterness go? what would be left?

just asriel?

and what would that mean? that there had always been another way?

no. he can’t let that be true.

so he copes. he compartmentalizes. keeps things boxed up neatly. flowey and asriel. good. evil. pain. hope. life. death. they don’t touch. they’ll never touch. he’d lose control if they did. and control is all he has left.

he makes sure to break things down before they have the chance to become anything real. he’s always the one to close the door first—better to leave than to be left behind.

if not, he might remember what it’s like to be exposed. vulnerable. weak.

and that’s something he cannot accept. the possibility that asriel is still in there. that there’s still a way back.

that maybe… he was never as far gone as he wants to believe.

it’s almost funny, in a way, because he’s already changed, whether he knows it or not. the fact that he’s still here, still witnessing the world after everything that’s happened, proves he’s not as detached as he wants to believe.

the fighting stopped. the cycle ended. the monsters are free. and even if he won’t admit it, even if he’s not ready to come to terms with it—there’s a quiet kind of peace in that.

even so, he will dig in his heels. even so, he will play into the role in a war that’s long over. even so, he won’t let anything awaken the barest trace of what it once meant to be asriel.

he is flowey.

the snow will keep falling. it’ll land on his petals.

it doesn’t stay.

neither does he.

because it’s easier that way.