#who basically adopted me for a summer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miraclewoozi · 1 year ago

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DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

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hadesisqueer · 4 months ago

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Your mom forgetting that you came out to her is fucking funny but now I'm curious. How did she react the first time?

I kind of blocked out the part when I was crying at first, but she was supportive, if a bit confused. She accepted me quickly, and then after I had calmed down she asked me questions like "how did you know?" "When did you know?" "Why were you so anxious, [Redacted] (my sister's best friend) is gay and I've never treated him any different, have I? What made you think I would react badly if you told me, silly? I love you". She was a woman on her 50's (still is) when I told her, and while accepting, not so much educated about the LGBT community, so I ended up explaining some stuff to her (for example, she didn't know what bisexuality was until I explained it to her when I told her that another friend of mine was bi). She asked me (without any malice) "but wait, you said that maybe you wanted to have kids one day. How would you do that, if you're married to a woman? Adoption?" And I said that yeah but I also proceeded to explain what ROPA is and how hypothetically I could have kids with my wife one day if I wanted to like that as well. She paid attention to every word and in fact the next day the news covered that theme and my mom quickly called me from my room smiling and saying "hey this is what we talked about, right?" Then we didn't talk about my sexuality at all for a couple of months and my mom is very forgetful so akskssk. She never forgot again after that. She once bought me a t-shirt that says "I AM THE RAINBOW SHEEP OF THE FAMILY". She yelled at my least favorite aunt once for making homophobic comments in front of me and didn't speak to her, her own sister, for over a year over that. She and another auntie of mine (along with the 3yo daughter of one of my cousins) came to my town's tiny Pride Parade with me last summer. She's still not the most educated person in the world and gets confused but she's the kinda person who will bite you if you're openly homophobic in front of her. If you're openly racist too she nearly yelled a woman at the hospital the other day for being xenophobic toward a doctor. My mom's the embodiment of "she's a bit confused but she's got the spirit" basically. Not perfect but you gotta love her.

#lgbt #coming out #lesbian #lgbt pride

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hippielittlemetalhead · 8 months ago

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I don't have the time for another fic or snippet or whatever but I had an idea. Drummer!Steve, right? And a common thing I'm seeing in that is that Gareth knows and is the one that taught him or got him started on the basics or told him where to go for gear... But what if... Envision with me...

Steve Harrington played the drums in middle school. He was a dramatic band kid and sports-type hybrid. He's the only drummer his school has and he's really good so administration makes it work with sports things cause sports & arts grants would really help the school and looks good at fundraisers so they need him but other kids think it's special treatment cause the Harrington name. Anywho, Steve is starting 8th grade and administration is in a bit of a tizzy over finding a new drummer for band stuff to replace him after graduating cause no one else wants to pick it up.

Enter Gareth. He's technically one of the flute (or violin Idk which I'd prefer for this) kids but Steve catches him playing around with his set after school one day. Steve convinces the kid to learn how to play drums for the rest of the year and through summer so next year he can try out for band again and take over as drummer. Gareth takes it but doesn't want anyone to know he's getting all buddy-buddy with Harrington cause he JUST got the guys who were in the talent show last year with a metal song to notice him and include him in their little tight-knight group and he WILL NOT let Steve Harrington of all people ruin that for him.

Fast forward a few years and Eddie survived the Upside Down, the rest of Corroded Coffin got read in while helping take care of the aftermath. Everything is okay and good and over now. But Gareth has a kind of fucked up hand. Jason Carver injured it and it never managed to heal quite right in the everything that came after. Thanks to government cover-up medical care there's a way to fix him up but it'll take time and as Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin keeps lamenting, C.C. has gigs to play and demos to record and- and- and- and Gareth asks if Eddie will shut up if he can come up with a replacement drummer.

Eddie and the band are hesitant until Gareth admits it's the guy who taught him to play and the guy is probably still just as good, if not better than him. So they have to promise to not replace him with the guy if he can convince him to help them out. Corroded Coffin swears on Dustin's mother (Claudia Henderson is a goddess amongst mortals and once she got read in put Joyce Byers to shame in her audacity dealing with the government bullshit) to not replace Gareth if he can bring this mystery drummer by next practice.

Gareth lets them into the garage next week for practice telling them his temp will be there any minute. As everyone else is finishing setting up a burgundy BMW pulls up, not unusual cause sometimes Steve will come by practice with snacks and just hang out while killing time between work and dealing with the kids. And the Steve that steps out of the BMW has an armful of food that's probably delicious but Freak notices that the hand that lifts for his signature little finger waggle of a wave has something else in it. He turns to Gareth with a giant grin on his face who turns bright red and grits out for him to not say a word.

"Heya guys, hear you need a drummer?"

Eddie's face falls. "No." He desperately turns to Gareth, "Please tell me this is just another very niche dream of something that will never happen to me in my waking hours." Gareth can't.

And Idk, Jeff and Freak don't quite believe that he's that good cause it's been a few years and Steve plays one of their originals making Eddie practically drool but everyone else is too flabbergasted to give him shit.

And somewhere between practices and Gareth finally letting himself be adopted by Steve (partially cause he is peak older sibling vibes but also it drives Eddie mad the guy he's falling for basically being one of his best friend's older brother. Idfk) Eddie and Steve figure their shit out and start dating. Maybe with a jealous Dustin cause HE adopted Steve first, how dare Gareth come and steal his rightfully shanghaied older sibling/best friend?

That's all I got. Someone take this and go crazy.

#yeah the ramblings of a madperson #rambler's thoughts #rambler's ideas #fanfic things #fanfic ideas #someone else take this from me #rambler rambles #stranger things thoughts #stranger things steddie #drummer!Steve Harrington

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radio-star8 · 6 months ago

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do you have any headcanons about the alternate bens like Mad, Bad, Zarro, etc? I'd love to hear them if you have any 😭😭

SRRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER I FORGOT ABOUT TBH PLEASE FORGIVE ME 🙏

Anyways here's a shit ton of headcanons and storylines

Bad Ben:

Story stuff--

His grandpa Max is not gone, just evil

Instead of the plumbers being intergalactic peacekeeping organization they are a anti-alien army set on separating Earth from other alien species.

Grandpa Max instills this idea that aliens are all bad into Ben and Gwen's head from a very young age

Grandpa Max adopted Ben into the plumbers organization way earlier. So he's kind of an alien butt kicking machine.

He's not a celebrity like Ben 23 but everybody knows who he is, He's seen as Earth's protector but not a hero.

He finds out that he's a quarter Anodite around the same time as Gwen (15). Well Gwen embraces her alien origin Ben is pissed and feels betrayed.

He decides to work with a different faction of the plumbers to separate himself from Grandpa Max

This faction works more with infiltrations rather than first line responders (if that makes sense)

Ben would currently be working on how to get rid of Gwen, Kevin, and the rest of the plumber kids including Argit who are seen as illegal aliens and are basically on the run.

Ben hides the fact that Gwen is his cousin and that he is a quarter and Anodite. Cuz if it ever got out it would ruin his rep.

Personal--

I think he's super self-absorbed he'll take an extra few seconds just to look at himself in the mirror and sigh dramatically

He has a dog named Buster (or something stupid like that)

As mentioned Buster is the only living thing he actually seems to like.

Doesn't name his aliens

His favorite animals are dogs or sharks

He thinks he's funny and that he has really good one liners but he actually kind of sucks at it

He seems like the type of guy to have a TikTok page centered around thirst trap POVs

He's actually not the goalie on his soccer team

I think instead of a smoothie guy he's more of a shake enjoyer

Same goes for chili fries... He probably eaten animal style fries from In-N-Out or something 🙏

He definitely litters

Grinds his teeth while he's sleeping

Would definitely ask for the manager

Physical--

Negative Ben:

Storyline--

His Grandpa Max is alive and well. There's no such thing as the plumbers but there is an task force specifically for alien activity which he is part of.

Aliens are not very common on Earth whatsoever and Earth never becomes a open planet. There's no undertown or anything like that.

Ben got the Omnitrix way younger I'd say around 7-8

At first he wanted to be a hero and use it for good but when immediate success didn't follow he gave up

They did not go on a giant summer road trip, the escape pod crashed in Grandpa Max's backyard or something like that

Grandpa Max is very bitter that he never got the chance to have the Omnitrix and Ben knows this very well.

As for Gwen she's never had an interest in the alien shenanigans and is more focused on normal life. She pretends to be dumber than she actually is secretly practicing magic with her friend Hope (aka negative charmcaster)

I think Gwen would be besties with Michael Morningstar and is dating Kevin who's this beach blonde jock.

Kevin is not a mutant in this timeline. Gwen basically uses him for money and to look cool. (We love toxic gwevin)

Ben has no ambitions in life and rarely ever uses the Omnitrix for anything. Since Earth is a closed off planet he kind of has no need.

His azimuth is dead and vilgax seems to not be in this timeline either

I think Ben is a super toxic person he reminds me of the sad boy flop version of Nicole from class of '09 if that makes sense

I think he has a super toxic relationship with Julie and then goes on to date Kai who in this timeline is a celebrity (she's a famous singer) the second him and julie break up. I think he would probably cheat on Kai with Hope (she's the same age as Gwen and Ben in this timeline)

Since they both got played they would leave his ass and he would be alone forever (possibly some toxic benrook, or bevin action)

In an effort to rehabilitate Rook and Ben both Grandpa Max teams them up to run missions and whatnot.

In this timeline Rook is a con artist, he is ostracized from his home planet. (His parents hate him lol). And in an effort to not go to jail he agrees with Grandpa Max to team up with Ben.

I believe this Ben also has an Albedo who is super happy-go-lucky and was a big fan of azimuth and really wants to get to know Ben who is just not having it.

Personal--

He is definitely incel

He room is so messy you can't see the floor

He names his aliens really stupid stuff like "nightstalker"

Only uses aliens that he thinks are cool

Favorite animals are cats or wolves

He really likes horror movies (favorite yt channel is probably dead meat)

He spends most of his time drawing anime characters or something like that

Favorite genre of anime is harem animes

he will verbally insult you but if you even dare say that he looks kind of funny he'll start crying

Has like 3,000 followers on Twitter

He's very scared of spiders

He's definitely the type to laugh at you for being uncomfortable around bloody or gory scenes.

"it's fake, besides it's not even that scary... I could probably do way worse"

I think he says edgy stuff like that all the time

Lives on monster energy and coffee

Physical--

This is a lot cuz I really like Negative Ben idk he has a hold on me anyway...

Benzarro:

Storyline--

I think Ben had the spark as well as Gwen so they both were super into magic.

I also like to believe that Earth is more of a magic realm than it is a planet.

I think the virus that turned Ben into a zombie was not in undead thingy but more of a mana absorbing parasite.

Ben is still alive but has been reduced to Benzarro

I think before the apocalypse Ben and Kevin were really close (possibly dating) so when Ben started to get sick this caused Kevin to completely shut down and run away

Ben and Gwen were also way closer in this timeline than they normally are. So it explains why she would devote her life to a cure and assisting Dr. Animo.

Ben is also patient zero most likely because the Omnitrix not only carried dna of multiple aliens but also a parasite.

this also means that Ben got the Omnitrix way later I'd say around 14-15

as for Grandpa Max and the plumbers I don't think that there is really a need for them but I do believe that Grandpa Max was still there before the apocalypse trying to train Ben the best he could.

I feel like Grandpa Max doesn't have a very good connection with his grandkids on like Grandma Verdona who decided to stay on earth and train her grandkids.

Obviously she fleas the planet after the plague starts to take over and Grandpa Max is missing

As for the state of Kevin: he is camped out in some cabin in the forest trying to survive the best he can. He lives with Cooper who is basically his best friend through all of this.

I think Kevin is a full mutant in this (I'm using the rooters retcon for this) him as well as Cooper our immune to the virus since they have no magic spark. (They're basically the cure)

Personal--

He's very popular around school and stuff.

Definitely the golden child of the family

The names of all aliens end with "y/ie"

So like. "Goopie" "Shiny" "Helpie"

Favorite animals are horses

Before he gets infected he'd probably be the type to say that everybody's overreacting and that he doesn't need to wear a mask cuz he's built different... he's got magic and stuff

I think he's zones out a lot

As a zombie he gets lots of weird food cravings

Has tried to eat the other bens

He still remembers everything before he was infected but the parasite has basically made his brain mush

He still remembers Gwen and Kevin very fondly

Contrary to popular belief his favorite color is yellow

Physical--

cw blood

Mad Ben:

Storyline--

I haven't exactly figured out what caused the a post-apocalyptic landscape that mad lives in but I think it would have something to do with a plumber war that caused a possible nuclear (???) fallout

when Ben first finds the Omnitrix he's traveling with Grandpa Max and Gwen. They're kind of aimlessly roaming the desert in search of civilization.

The Omnitrix was in Plummer custody before everything kind of exploded and was just found in an abandoned building by Ben

Grandpa Max is extremely sick and ends up leaving Gwen and Ben so he can go pass on without them having to see.

they later get separated as Gwen is picked up by Verdona.

Leaving then to fend for himself for a little bit.

Maltruant comes along and leads Ben him to Bellwood (or what's left of it)

him and vilgax then train Ben. I like to think the conditions are tough like Ben still has to hunt for his own food and fend for himself. As well as the fact that he probably gets punished for doing stuff wrong

Side note the vilgax the trains mad Ben is mad vilgax so when he is taken to go fight in the ben war he meets prime vilgax and thinks he's hella cool.

Mad Vilgax is a militant kind of commander who Maltruant specifically tracks down to train Ben and afterwards Vilgax dips

Rook kind of just arrives one day. He is badly injured and Ben kind of takes him in. They're both like 12 or 13 at this point

Ben and Rook develop a friendship until Ben is offered the position to start digging for pieces of maltruant

he starts to yell and get angry at Rook and basically is super toxic.

basically after the two part episode in Omniverse Ben goes a little stir crazy in jail and with the help of Dr Psychobos breaks out.

He runs away to try and find Gwen who at this point is very infamous.

there is an entire cult surrounding her as her followers believe that she has the divine power to save them and bring them to salvation.

this is obviously because she is an anodite. When Verdona took her she led her to the cult and basically made her their new center of worship.

anyways the reason why he's trying to find Gwen is because he knows she's magical and in his stupid little brain that means that she can bring him to Maltruant

he would probably take Kevin hostage (somehow idk that man's a tank) leading gwen to confront him and they would have a big fight

Rook has also been looking for Ben this whole time

Personal--

He has a really bad anger issues that he's had since he was a child

Stiles his hair with motor grease

His favorite animals are hawks

Doesn't name his aliens

He skilled in many different fighting styles so is still versatile even without his omnitrix

The only reason why he has a newer omnitrix is because azimuth is a cruel bitch and gave it to him

Ben sees at azimuth as a god

Ben is the only person in Bellwood to have a mattress and a bed frame

Bro definitely has scurvy

Definitely snores

If he ever tried chili fries he'd probably throw up

His vest used to be a jacket he wore as a kid but he ripped off the sleeves to make it cool

Definitely would wear his dirty shoes around the house.

Most definitely would wear his dirty shoes on the couch

Physical--

Okay that's it sorry it was so long I just really like yeppin if you guys have any more requests about anything feel free to ask. Hopefully I won't forget about it next time 🙏

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rotating-hyperfixations · 7 months ago

Text

Teen Yellowjackets Niche Specific NJ Headcanons:

Watching Yellowjackets has me reflecting on my own teenage hood and I grew up in NJ, so therefore I constantly think way too much about dumb shit they could do that’s specific to growing up in New Jersey and thus this list was born:

Growing up Nat was a CEO catholic (Christmas and Easter only). Her parents don’t really believe, but there’s enough Catholic guilt there from their childhoods that they feel like they should go for the big holidays. They stop going when her dad dies.

Lottie was informally adopted by an elderly Italian couple who owns a deli. In middle school she started going there nightly for dinner when her parents were out of town, and the owners were so confused/disgusted that they always made sure she had a meal free of charge, even though she could pay. Even into high school they give her extra food, she usually pawns it off on Van or Nat, or sometimes Shauna if her mom’s working the night shift at the hospital.

Van worked at a pizza place. She hates it, but they let her take slices home for free and she likes that it feels like one of those jobs a character would work in an 80s coming of age movie.

Jackie’s parents have a beach house in LBI. The soccer team takes it over for one week every summer

Shauna likes to drive down Ocean Ave late at night listening to her mixtape that she made specifically for those drives (this basically a right of passage for teenagers who grew up by the shore, myself included).

There is infighting amongst the team about which is better: Dunkin Donuts or Wawa. They had to put a moratorium on the topic because things were getting too personal.

Van looks up to Kevin Smith and loves Clerks because he was also from a small town in NJ and was able to get his movie made.

Tai is ready and willing to kick anyone’s ass who tries to defend Pineapple on pizza, she thinks it’s a crime against pizza and it should be outlawed. Jackie is a pineapple on pizza enjoyer, this causes problems.

They all live in central Jersey and fight with opposing teams at tournaments and matches about whether or not that section of the state exists.

Nat is a transplant from North Jersey and they all give her shit for her accent that she just can’t shake.

Misty is an NJ transit defender, even though the service barely functions.

Shauna is banned from watching the Giants and Yankees because she has anger issues and spends their entire game yelling at the tv.

Nat and subsequently Van (Nat-Van childhood best friends you are very dear to me) call it Taylor Ham, whereas the rest of the team calls it Pork Roll. Each side has attempted to convert the other, but have yet to be successful.

They were all devastated when Action Park at Vernon Valley closed because it meant they could no longer get shitty cheap beer without being carded.

#Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets headcanons #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #taissa turner #van palmer #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #misty quigley #we can get really deep in Nj lore if people are interested #this is just surface level stuff #growing up in Nj is both a unique experience and like growing up anywhere else

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abominable-space-they · 7 months ago

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A modern Lulaw au in which Law is a tattoo artist at a long established well respected tattoo shop owned by the Donquixote Brothers, Wild at Heart

Law's been trying to convince them to hire traditionally trained piercers to open an internal dedicated piercing studio forever but Doffy doesn't like any idea that isn't his so he keeps shutting Law down

As a compromise Rosinante starts booking extremely well respected, highly trained traveling piercers both to show Doffy it would make money and to give him a chance to imagine it was his idea all along

Luffy is a traveling piercer who's considered a huge legacy kid celebrity in the body mod community

He was born to, adopted and taught by pioneers in modern body modification. His dads are The Revolutionary Dragon & Sir Crocodile themselves.

Because Luffy's so huge in the scene, Rosi books him for the whole summer season instead of just a couple weekends

Rosinante likes Luffy's tenacity and the total lack of fucks he gives high society and their rules. If there is anyone with the skill, clout, and charisma to convince Doflamingo, it's this kid

When Law meets Luffy, he kinda hates him at first.

Luffy is dressed like he's going to the beach in late fall. Flip flops and a sun hat! Who dresses like that?! And he's way to childish for his age, way to casual with everyone, to disrespectful to the art of body modification. And to top it off he's always moving around, bouncing, bopping, and talk talk talking. Within 20 minutes of their meeting, he asks Law to take him clubbing so he can get familiar with the local queer music scene.

Law says no of course

Luffy asks again

10 million times

(Law's not tempted to just do it, he's not, he hates popularity obsessed scene gays, Luffy obliviously is one. Ugh!)

Then it's time for Luffy's first piercing appt. The client is some youngish kid. It's his birthday and he wants a piercing to celebrate being old enough to legally get one.

Luffy locks in, befriends the kid instantly, asking all manner of questions. He finds out that the kid got a job and worked after school to save up for Luffy's fee for months. He's barely scraped up enough money for a basic piercing with the basic jewelry.

Luffy's calm, confident, professional bedside manner shocks Law. He's so gently reassuring and soft spoken. It's dumbfounding to watch. It's like Luffy got body swapped with some other mature adult responsible piercer.

Before he'll even do the piercing Luffy sits down and keeps talking to the kid till he finds out what the kid actually wanted pierced, what jewelry he dreamed of and he upgrades it for free.

Afterwards Luffy gives the kid high protein snacks and a drink out of his own back pack.

When the kid hands over his card to pay, Luffy only charges him for the snack

Law: you can't just hand out free piercings, my uncle will have your head on a platter, and I for one don't feel like listening to the screaming

Luffy: Don't worry so much Lala. I paid for it. I'm not afraid of Mingo and I'm not shorting anyone.

Law: that's not my name... You know what? Nevermind. Why would you bother to upsell him and then pay for it out of pocket?

Luffy: Silly Lala, I wasn't up selling him, I was giving him what he really wanted. He's a kid. He should spend his money on making his dreams come true. Studios charge to many fees. It's why I don't really work in them. Don't worry about me so much. I won't starve to death paying for one little piercing. It's fine.

Law: Don't be ridiculous, I'm not worried about you starving to death.

Luffy, grinning like mad at him: cool. I'm hungry too. We should get something to eat before I actually do starve.

He's just to charming in such a casual sincere way... And now Law understands why Luffy is basically a folk hero, why everyone who meets him, loves him. Now going clubbing with him doesn't sound so bad.

Law: hmmm well don't go crazy waiving fees, you still have to pay your chair fees. I'll pick up the next one you just absolutely have to comp. There's food in the back for now... and I'll pick you up at nine. If I'm taking you dancing, we need to eat first. I've seen the way you put food away, constantly and like you're starving. I'm gonna feed you before you end up at some leather bar stuffed with tequila and poppers

Luffy: Leather Lala? Ooh. I didn't know we were on poppers terms. I'm a good boy, buy me dinner first. I'm hungryyyy

Law, malfunctioning in embarrassment: I am buying you dinner! I just said that! I mean... You know that's not what I meant.

Luffy: no no you asked me out, you you wanna fill me up and work me out, you started it. I'm invested now. We have to do it. We have to go on a dancing and dinner date.

Law, pretending he isn't ecstatic: fine... Just be ready at nine, I'll make reservations somewhere nice for dinner

It's the Baratie, of course it's the Baratie.

Sanji knows them both. Luffy is his boyfriend's best friend and practically lives at their place.

He and Law are both from up north, they dated way back when they were both trying to force themselves through academics. They both quit college to apprentice in the arts they loved, and decided they were better off as just friends.

They were just to much alike in all the wrong ways

They stayed friends over the years though they're both to busy with their adult lives to see each other to much

Sanji takes one look at Luffy and Law together and cackling evily, calls Nami immediately to tell her that he needs to place a bet that Luffy gets engaged or married within two years.

Nami is livid that he won't share his insider information, Luffy doesn't even date like that

Sanji: Well he's dating now Nami my sweet and totally reasonable beloved best friend. Wait till you see them together. I just know you'll agree with me.

Law, not incidentally does get invited to family dinner that weekend. He begrudgingly accepts

Luffy is ecstatic, he's already decided he's keeping Lala forever and if his real chosen family gets along with him, that makes it even easier.

It's fate. They're gonna be together forever.

Five years later when Doffy & Rosi retire to travel. Law & Luffy rename Wild at Heart, Two Wild Hearts Ink & Steel.

Luffy has his own dedicated piercing studio where he comps almost every single piercing because he just adores people so much.

He can't help himself.

Law never minds anymore. Luffy's infamous family loves to come in and pay it forward for months worth of bookings anyway... and it makes Luffy happy to do it

It turns out, Luffy being happy makes Law really deeply spiritually happy

He'd do a lot more then give up a little pocket money for that smile

He doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it anymore

So what Luffy wants, Luffy gets

Thank god Luffy's favorite thing to get is Trafalgar Law, forever.

They're very happy

Doffy swears hiring Luffy was his idea

#lulaw #lawlu #law x luffy #luffy x law #one piece #one piece au #one piece fanfiction #straw hat luffy #monkey d luffy #op law #lawluffy #trafalgar law #crocodad #dadodile #mishuggy #Mishuggy helped raise Luffy #The Donquixote Brothers #fanfic

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waystostay · 1 month ago

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Catch you if you fall, I mean it.

this is just pure word vomit from a while ago, reader is adoptive miya. pls don't think too much abt grammar. timeskip au. wc: 7.6k tw: alcohol and marijuana use.

Suna had always known you. Ever since high school, actually middle school maybe. He can’t quite place exactly when he met you but being his best friends’ adopted sister, you were kind of always there. You both went to college in different places. You went to a whole new country actually. Those 4 years meant you weren't as present, so he didn't really know much of what was going in your life, didn't even follow you on Instagram either. The only times he saw you then were an occasional hi on FaceTime with your brother or a smile and hello at your house during breaks. Basically, he had always known you. He just doesn't know when he became painfully obsessed with you.

Was it the beach trip you all took last summer? Was it seeing you in the waterfall wet hair stuck down the curve of your spine? He would be sitting a few feet away from you awestruck as you toweled off. What had the cotton towel done to deserve gliding down your body? Why doesn't he have that right?

Was it the halloween party where you got too drunk and danced under the lights of the club in your tiny costume? The gleam of your smile as you laughed with your friends or maybe the drops of liquor falling into your cleavage as you downed shot after shot.

He knew it was a problem when all he could look at New Year's Eve was how pretty the fireworks looked reflected in your eyes.

It was a regular week for you, but he was losing his mind. He’d been staying with you and Osamu for the past week while JNT sorted out his housing for the next couple months in Tokyo. He felt privileged to be able to watch you go about the mundane parts of your life. Your door would be open and he’d steal glances at you doing your makeup or skincare. He’d walk by while you were fast asleep taking your midday nap. His favorite were the nightly smoke sessions. Sometimes it would be you, him, and Osamu other times, like tonight, Atsumu and Kiyoomi would join, even Kita-san.

He watched as you placed the joint delicately between your lips and lit the tip taking a deep inhale. You passed it off to Atsumu, blowing out the smoke in his direction. Kiyoomi was talking about something but he was only half-listening, pretending to scroll on his phone occasionally stealing glances at you.

“Oh, by the way guys, Eita invited me to a show.” You said taking the joint from Kita. “He’s in Tokyo and he DM’ed me.”

Suna’s head snapped up at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips. Who was Eita? Did you have a boyfriend? He looked around and apparently everyone else was as confused as him. “Who the fuck’s Eita?” Atsumu said furrowing his eyebrows and snatching the lighter from Kiyoomi.

You gave a very deadpan look, “Eita, you know, from college.” “That provides so little answers, s’not like we went to college with you.” Osamu said frowning. “Did you mention him before?”

“Do either of you ever even listen to me when I fucking talk, I was obsessed with him sophomore year.” Suna would have listened to you. “You know Eita my ex something or other?” You said getting slightly annoyed.

“You have an ex?” Kita asked blowing out smoke. You have an ex? He’s still talking to you? Does he still want you? Does he want you as much as Suna does? He feels like if it’s a competition he would win. “I’m just as fuckin confused.” Osamu said frowning at you.

“OH MY GOD! EITA! He was a musician, we talked or whatever my sophomore year then he left and came back to Japan and I never really heard from him again!” You said beyond exasperated. Suna wanted to smile at your cute face scrunched up in annoyance, but his mind was racing.

"Ohhh weirdo guitar guy," Osamu said hitting the joint, passing it to Suna. "Dude," Osamu nudged his shoulder when Suna made no move to accept the joint.

"You still talk to the fucker?" Atsumu said, capitalizing on Suna's diverted attention and quickly stealing the joint. Osamu tsked at Atsumu breaking the circle.

"No, we just follow each other, he randomly slid in my dms" You said shrugging. "He's apparently friends with Ushijima-san too and visiting him, they went to high school together." You continued.

"Wait." Atsumu said slowly connecting the dots. "Semi Eita? Aoba Johsai's setter?"

"What the fuck Atsumu, how are you just now getting this?" You frowned. "Anyway, yes. He said his band is performing at this show and he's inviting people he knows. I asked if I could bring a few friends, and he said sure. So do y'all wanna come?" Suna did not want to come. Suna did not want to watch you get wooed by your ex. He wanted to stay home and stalk the man on every social media there is. He wanted to dox him on Twitter if he had the time. Suna was considering starting a hate account for this band he's never even heard of.

"Ushijima-san?" Kita's ears perked up. "Ushijima-san's gonna be there?" He asked hopefully.

"Kita-san, I'm so serious when I say you need to stop mooning over Ushijima-kun." Astumu said throwing a look at Kita.

"No he has a point, I'm still waiting on that signed jersey." You say nodding. "I don't know if he'll be there sadly, maybe y'all can convince him to go."

"Either way do you guys wanna come or not?" You ask diverting the conversation away from Suna's teammate.

"Yeah, why not. I wanna see this Eita character." Osamu said reaching over to pull the joint from Atsumu's mouth. He let out an offended gasp until he realized Osamu handed the joint to you.

"Me too, I'm down." Atsumu said shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I'll ask Ushijima-san if he's coming and then, and only then, will I come." Kiyoomi said glaring at Atsumu when he pouted.

"But Omi-Omi~~" Atsumu started whining, effectively forcing everyone in the circle to tune him out.

"Kita-san, Sunarin?" You asked, putting the joint out on the wall behind you. Butterflies erupted in Suna's stomach and the sound of his nickname in your sweet voice. He still didn't wanna go. But he had to.

"Sure, I'm still here through the weekend anyway." Kita said shrugging. Suna nodded his agreement not trusting himself to speak right now.

"And you want that jersey." You said laughing. "And I want that jersey." Kita confirmed smiling at you.

The rest of the week passed by with minimal issue, apart from every waking thought in Suna's mind being occupied by you and Eita. He looked the man up, stalking his instragram, and he's sure that bastard's silver hair was haunting his nightmares. Saturday came along and Suna was sitting downstairs, a pre-game playlist you made filtering through the TV's speakers. Osamu was mixing up party juice in the kitchen while they waited for everyone else to get to your apartment. Suna could hear you upstairs. Going back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom, heels clicking against the wood floors. He was dreading you coming down because he knew he'd fold the moment he saw your outfit. He already had to reign in his emotions when he saw your curled hair.

"Jesus you take so fucking long." He heard Osamu say as you climbed down the stairs carefully.

"Perfection takes time stupid." You sneered flipping him off. Suna took a deep breath and steeled himself to look up from his phone. He immediately regretted it. Did you have to look that good for your ex? The black mini-skirt clung your hips and accentuated your ass, teasing as you moved towards the kitchen. The gold platform heels you put on were new, he knew that. It matched your bracelets and hoop earrings perfectly. When you walked into the kitchen, his stomach clenched at the sight of your bare back in your backless tight fitting top.

He wanted to follow you into the kitchen, drawn to you like a magnet but the door swung open revealing Kiyoomi, Atsumu, and Kita before he could.

"SUNARIN!" Atsumu yelled bounding over to give him a hug.

"Jesus pisshead are you already drunk, it's 9:30?" You questioned walking out to say hello to your brother.

"OOOO you look great!" Atsumu said holding you at arm's distance as you gave a playful twirl. "All dressed up to go get back together with your ex?" He teased. Suna wanted to punch him.

"Ew don't even say that, I would never see that man like that again." You said scoffing.

"Why did you even date in the first place then?" Kita asked sitting on the couch.

"We didn't really date Kita-san, we made out a couple times and we hooked up once before he left for Japan again." You said sitting beside him. "I think both of us really just wanted the attention."

"Then why are you wearing that new top. And why did you buy heels specifically for this occasion?" Osamu said walking into the living room and raising an eyebrow. FOR THIS OCCASION? WHAT FUCKING OCCASION? Suna wanted to yell.

"Bye I am NOT wearing this shit for him." You said rolling your eyes. "We were friends before we ever did anything, like we were pretty close. I told him all about-" Your eyes quickly cut over to his for the briefest of seconds. He would have missed it had he not already been staring at you, "-that thing in high school that happened." You cleared your throat. What happened? What thing? Suna had never left more left out than he did at this moment.

"Huh? Oh!" Atsumu said. "Ohh, I see now." A shit-eating grin spread across his face. What? What did he see? What was Suna missing?

"So you remember this but nothing else?" You said glaring at him with a 'cut it out Atsumu' look. Suna watched as he leaned over and whispered something into Osamu's ear. Osamu's eyes landed on his then looked to you before the same shit-eating grin appeared on his face.

"I'm going to throw both of you off a building." You warned.

"So I'm confused." Komori said walking in through the open door suddenly and startling everyone.

"Oh my god, Komori!" He watched as a bright smile lit up your face. Did you get that happy to see him? You went up to give his teammate a hug, and Suna wanted to chop off his hands when they settled on the exposed skin at your waist, EJP be damned.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." You said shaking your head pulling away from him. "Don't. Worry. About. It." This time directed towards Astumu and Osamu who looked more evil, and more identical, in this moment than ever. On your way back to the couch you purposefully stomped on Atsumu's toes and Suna watched with satisfcation as he yelped bringing his shoe covered foot up to rub away the pain.

"Sunarin, you're bein awfully quiet tonight." Osamu said sidling up to him. He could sense Osamu was up to something, he had no idea what, but it unsettled him.

"You're being weird." Suna said furrowing his eyebrow and stepping away cautiously. His eyes once again found your form laughing with Kiyoomi and Komori. The action did not go unnoticed by Osamu.

"My sister huh?" He said pulling Suna's attention away from you. Fuck.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Suna tried to deflect. Before he knew it Atsumu was coming up to him matching Osamu's mischevious look.

"That why you been off at training?" Atsumu asked, in such a condescending tone it made Suna's skin crawl. "You obsessed with Y/N? You jealous?" He pestered before he could answer.

"Atsumu. Osamu." Kita said in such an authoritative voice, all three boys immediately stood up straighter. "Leave Suna and his little crush alone." Oh he was evil. Kita was evil for that. Forcing down a smile while he said it too, Kita was the devil. Suna panicked and sneered as he heard your heels clicking over to four of them.

"What're we talkin' bout?" You asked poking your head into the circle. All four boys looked down at you, but you looked straight up at Suna, dark eyes reflecting the living room lights. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of your pretty face all dolled up. For Eita, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

"Nothing." Kita answers for them. Never mind maybe he isn't so evil, Suna was relieved. Now he just had to keep you, Astumu, and Osamu separate for the rest of, well, your lives.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go get some drinks." Osamu said smiling once again, a glint in his eye. "Come help me." He gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen. Fuck. Again.

"No screw you have 'Tsum do it, Komori and I are trying to convince Kiyoomi to play ride the bus." You said walking away. Suna thanked every god that exists before turning to Osamu with a scowl.

"I swear to god." Suna warned. "I will expose you with everything I have." At the idea, both Miyas faltered.

"Whatever, you're old enough to make a move if you want to." Osamu said rolling his eyes and shoving Atsumu into the kitchen. Suna still felt uneasy leaving the two of them alone to plot and scheme with this newfound information, but he turned and locked eyes with Kita-san.

"I think you'll find the outcome to be different than what you're thinking, Suna." Kita said pensively. "Bravery can prove to be truly fruitful." Suna rolled his eyes at the philosophical words grabbing Kita's arm to go to the circle you started by the coffee table. He sat down on the floor between you on the couch and Kiyoomi on a cushion. He nodded when you asked him if he wanted to play ride the bus and stared when your manicured hands dealt the cards carefully, leaving out two piles for your good-for-nothing brothers.

Playing a few rounds ensured all seven of you were sufficiently tipsy, you headed out to take the train to Roppongi towards the club where Eita and his band were playing. You waited in line and got in eventually, Suna thought it was borderline comedic watching you lead 6 of the tallest buffest men, 3 of which played for the National Team, through the crowded dance floor of the dingy club.

Kiyoomi saw Eita first, being the tallest of you all. He waved to Ushijima-San who waved back prompting a tall, slender gray haired man to turn in your group’s direction. Kiyoomi’s hand lowered and the smile fell into a less genuine one when he locked eyes with him.

“Is that Eita?” He whispered to Atsumu. Before Atsumu could turn to him with a bewildered look because ‘why the fuck would I know?’ “Y/N-chan!” The man called walking over to you at the front of the group. Atsumu watched as Suna’s eye twitched. “Eita!” You cheer giving him a warm smile, to anyone else maybe you’d be flirting but Atsumu knows you’re just being friendly.

Suna thought you were flirting. Suna could feel his keys imprinting in his palm with how hard he clenched his fists.

And then it got worse. Eita came to hug you, one arm spanning the expanse of your lower back the other around your shoulder blades pulling you against him full-frontal. After you pulled away, he looked at you. Way too intimately. He leaned down and Suna could have sworn he would kiss you but ended up briefly placing his cheek on yours and pulling away entirely. He had to divert his attention from the scene of him looking through his lids at you like that and you staring up at him with those pretty, pretty doe eyes Suna loved so much. He turned to Osamu only to see Atsumu jaw dropped, Osamu eyebrows raised, and Kita once again stifling a smile. He caught the confused look that passed across Komori's face before Kiyoomi explained to him. He wondered what Kiyoomi said. Did he say Eita was your ex? Did he say Eita was a rando guy trying to fuck you again? Did he say Eita was a pussy bitch? Everyone seemed to wipe their faces back to neutral when they noticed you turning around from Eita.

"Hi guys, this is Eita. From college." You said gesturing to the man behind you. Suna watched his eyes briefly scan the 6 men behind you. "Eita this is, Osamu and Atsumu my brothers, Kiyoomi and Komori, Atsumu's, and Ushijima's I guess, teammates, Kita is our friend from high school and he works with Osamu, and" His stomach dropped waiting to see what you'd say about him. Why wasn't he with Kiyoomi and Komori's introduction as Ushijima's teammate? Or Kita's as your friend from high school? What special thing did you have to say about him? "this is Sunarin, or sorry Suna" Cute. Did you always call him Sunarin in your head? "he's our friend from high school too." You finished. Oh, that was it? Suna couldn't help but feel disappointed as he threw a half smile towards the bastard with his hands still on your waist.

"Isn't he also on the national team?" Eita asked bumping your shoulder with his.

"Oh shit yeah wait." You said. Atsumu snorted while Osamu snickered. He figured he should save you,

"It's fine. Just a job." He shrugged.

"Don't let Sho-chan hear you say that." Atsumu laughed. He turned away from Atsumu to see Eita already looking at him. They locked eyes for a minute as Eita's gaze seemed to linger with some.. unfamiliar look? Suna hardened his gaze but Eita seemed to smirk and look away looping his arm around your shoulders to introduce you to his friends.

"You all know Ushijima. This is my friend Shirabu from high school he's a vet." A guy with an awful brown haircut raised his beer glass at you. What the fuck kind of greeting is that? "And you probably also know who Ushijima brought." Ushijima leaned back for you all to see,

"KAGEYAMA!" You and Atsumu both yelled. Atsumu sounded more affronted while you sounded excited. Why.

"Wait can you sign this" You try to say digging around in your purse for something. Oh yeah, you were a Kagyeama fangirl the same way Kita was an Ushijima fangirl. Speaking of,

"Uh. Kita-san?" Suna asked tapping his former captain's shoulder.

"Hm, sorry.” Kita said not looking away from Ushijima. Suna rolled his eyes, he needed good karma tonight.

"Ushijima-san can you bring a signed jersey to practice tomorrow?" Suna asked addressing his current captain. Funny.

"Of course." Ushijima said, no hesitation. "Who should I make it out to?"

"Nobody, my sister just wants one to wear to games." He lied smoothly.

"Wait I want one too!" You cut in. Suna looked down to see an old club wristband and a lipliner in your hands. He snickered making you turn to him with a pout.

"What?" You hissed.

"That's your plan for an autograph from Kageyama?" He teased. This was easy. He was worried for nothing. For the first time this week, his shoulders eased.

"It's all I have shut up I'm not letting go of this opportunity, Atsumu absolutely refuses to get me anything from him." You said excitedly rushing over. He watched with a smile as you pushed the items towards a very confused Kageyama. He laughed when Kageyama couldn't push up the lipliner and ended up breaking off the tip in an attempt to sign his name. The genuine fear in Kageyama's eyes as he watched your face fall in real time was so hilarious, Suna immediately took out his phone. You reassured Kageyama that it was alright and took your crudely signed wristband to walk back over to him and Osamu.

"Not go how you planned?" He asked snickering. You pouted again and showed him the crumpled wristband and your now completely broken lipliner.

"I'm cooked." You said with so much genuine sadness, Suna had to laugh again.

His joy, peace, happiness, and will to live were immediately destroyed when Eita came up to you again. This time his right hand went to your shoulder then caressed down your arm before fully resting his forearm on you. He placed himself strategically between you and Suna, a fact not unnoticed making him scowl.

"Why did my show turn into a JNT Volleyball bonding event?" He joked leaning far too close to your ear.

"I wanna call Sho-chan." Komori said. "It'd be funny, I think."

"Least it's good press." Suna bit out. He didn't mean to be unkind but when he saw Osamu's brows raise, he knew it came off harsh.

Eita didn't falter. "Yeah, you're right." He said. "Thanks for bringing your athlete posse." He said laughing down and nudging you closer. He watched you roll your eyes, a pretty smile on your face. "They're your athlete posse too." You said smiling, light blush on your cheeks as you looked up at Eita again. Suna almost growled.

"Okayyyyy" Osamu said. Maybe he did growl. "Sunarin you owe me a shot from last time let's go." He said pushing Suna towards the bar.

Once they got there, Suna leaned back against the bar letting Osamu flag the bartender while he continued to scowl in Eita's general direction.

"Dude you're being so corny," Osamu said rolling his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up." Suna said with malice.

"Either you ask her out or you quit being a jealous fuck." Osamu said crossing his arms unfaltered.

"I'm not jealous," Suna sneered, lying obviously. "I just don't fuck with the guy."

"Because he had the balls to do what you can't?" Osamu said passing him a full shot glass.

"Man it's not that simple." Suna said staring at the liquor.

"I'm not gonna push either way but quit acting like this. She obviously does not know you like her. She's just gonna think you were forced to come and you don't wanna be here." Osamu said. Suna felt a bit guilty. He was right. He knew you cared about how everyone in the group felt and put people's happiness over your own.

"Yeah. You're right." He said knocking his shot glass with Osamu's and downing the bitter liquid. Once he put the glass down and got the taste out of his mouth, he looked up. The crowd around them dissipated allowing a clear view of the sight ahead of him. You. You with Eita's hands resting on your hips. Your arms were crossed as you looked up at him not pushing his hands off but not reciprocating. You were having some conversation with him. He smiled down at you dragging his eyes up and down your body as he spoke. Suna could feel the lust radiating off him and it made him sick. He knew you weren't one for sleeping with strangers, but would you with a former lover?

"Either you take her home or he will." He barely noticed Komori on the other side of him. He rolled his eyes and didn't answer picking at the nailpolish on his fingernails. 'We're gonna end up going home together anyway we sleep in the same place' he thought bitterly. He looked up again to see Eita closer than ever. This time gripping your hip and whispering something in your ears. He should be making you blush like that Suna felt. He felt his heart light up when you gently pushed Eita off of you shaking your head. He didn't know what was said but the more distance between you and that devil the better. He watched as Eita's face contorted into something of understanding and nodded pulling away from you with a comforting smile. He felt good until you suddenly reach out grabbing his forearm and pulling him back into your space. You whispered something in his ear and he nodded with a scarily mischevious grin. Suna was burning with the need to know what was being said.

"Alright hold these." Osamu said suddenly pushing more shot glasses into his hands. He held three beers and Komori held another 6 shot glasses to add to the four in Suna's hand. ‘Were they buying for the whole damn club?’, he thought, walking back to the booth with Ushijima, Kageyama, and that Shirabu guy. Kiyoomi and Atsumu were talking in the corner. He put the shot glasses down on the table and went towards you and Kita.

"We apparently bought shots for the whole table." He said getting you and Kita to look at him.

"Oooooo exciting," You clapped your hands making to go sit. "Wait." You suddenly stopped turning to him. "You didn't give Osamu your card did you?"

"Fuck he must have taken my wallet again when I was brooding" He said running his hands down his face. He watched your face twist in concern before he realized what he had just said.

"Why are you brooding?" You asked intently. What was he supposed to say? Because he was jealous of your ex flirting with you when he himself can't even hold a conversation with you?

"Nothing just. Training." He tried. He looked around awkwardly when Astumu came up.

"Quit pestering Y/N about the other stupid middle blocker he's second string bro." Atsumu said clapping his shoulder. Maybe he should be nicer to Atsumu he's kind of saving his ass right now.

"Aww, it's okay Sunarin you're a great player!" You said trying to cheer him up. He immediately smiled at how cute your attempts were.

"So good you forgot I played for the Olympic Team?" He asked to watch you flounder.

"Okay you and I both know that is not what I meant." You said shoving his arm. He laughed as the four of you walked to booth to take shots with everyone else.

Shot after shot, drink after drink everyone at the booth got drunker and drunker as Eita's band played. Suna was having a pleasant time sitting in the booth with Kita and Ushijima quietly talking every now and then. He spent most of his time people watching. People being you. You-watching. You had found a group of girls to dance with and he could barely keep his eyes off you as you moved your hips back and forth. No Eita was in sight (he was on stage) so Suna could have his fill of the beautiful sight you made on the dance floor of the club. Atsumu and Kiyoomi fucked off somewhere, Osamu was flirting with a girl across the club, and Komori and Kageyama had left to meet up with Hinata and Bokuto at a different club and come back with them. He watched as you nodded to the girls you were dancing with when they went away leaving you standing alone in the dance floor. He didn't know if it was the jealousy over Eita, the confidence from the liquor, or simply how drawn to you he felt but he stood up and made his way over to you.

"Hi Sunarin!" You said smiling brightly at him and waving.

"What're you drinking?" He asked nodding to your almost empty glass. The liquor took him right in front of you but what was he supposed to say now.

"It's an amaretto sour." You said twirling the straw. "You wanna try?"

He leaned down and sipped from the straw you held out to him lips barely brushing your fingertips. He looked up at you pulling back and licking his lips. You seemed almost frozen in the position you were in before.

"'s good." He said nodding, wiping off a non-existed drop from his lip with his thumb. "Come with me to get one?" He asked nodding his head towards the bar. He watched you nod and bring your glass closer to your chest on shaky hands. Feeling awfully bold he grabbed your wrist and tugged you through the crowd, pulling you in front of him when you got in line for the bar. You both stood quietly, he looked down at you while you mouthed along and swayed to the music.

While distracted, the guy in front of the two of you suddenly stumbled back bumping into you and knocking your glass sloshing the liquid over the side and effectively spilling half your drink on the floor. Suna frowned and put a hand on your hip thumbs grazing the skin between your shirt and skirt, pulling you into his chest. The other went to push the guy in front of you gently away from you,

"Dude." He said taking his hand off the stranger's back but still holding it out in front of you protectively.

"Sorry man." He laughed.

"You're fine!" You said cheerily stepping around him and placing your now empty glass on the bar. He walked away as Suna moved his hand around to your lower back guiding you forward towards the bar.

"You're too nice" He said looking down at you.

You shrugged, "'s not like he meant to". Suna heard you perfectly but he wanted to test a theory. He slid his hand again further around your waist towards your belly, pulling you oh so gently towards him. He leaned down murmuring a "what?" right against the shell of your ear, prompting you to repeat yourself. You could barely get the words out at his proximity. Every point of his touch on your body was tingling, the skin to skin contact setting you on fire. His cologne was dizzying and the little smirk he had while boring his deep green eyes into yours was maddening. Your faces were so close your noses almost brushed and you got a little too caught up in the feeling of your breath mingling in your shared space.

"Um I just said that he like didn't mean to." You said gesturing with your hands lamely. He nodded leaning up but making no effort to remove his hand or move away. You were painfully aware of how close he was, belly clenching at his proximity. As much as you were distracted by him the aching in your feet didn't seem to fade. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, Suna picking up on the action. You didn't notice him leaning down until you felt his breath on the side of your head again. You jumped slightly looking up at him,

"You wanna sit down?" He asked gesturing towards an empty seat beside you. You turned your head to look automatically, missing the way Suna's eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath of your sweet smelling shampoo and hair oil. You turned back to him and nodded. He pushed you towards the chair and held your hand as you stepped onto the bar stool. The position was awkward so, much as he hated to, Suna pulled away, remaining close. He flagged down the bartender and ordered two Amaretto sours.

"You don't have to!" You said quickly looking up at him while he told the bartender his last name for the tab.

"It's fine, I want to." Suna smiled down at you. "Plus that asshole kinda spilled the rest of your drink anyway." He said knocking his shoulder against yours. You gave him a sweet smile and shyly ducked your gaze whispering a 'thank you'.

The drinks came back and he handed yours to you, holding your hand again to help you off the stool. This time before he could let go, you were already guiding him through the crowd towards the dance floor. The two of you sipped your drinks and danced along to the music, Eita's band apparently no longer playing. Suna didn't give a shit where he was right now, his focus was entirely consumed by you.

"How's training?" You ask barely audible over the music. Suna slides his hand around your waist to pull you towards his ear, "what?" He laughs.

"I asked 'How's training?'" You repeated bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder for balance. Heels on and you still had to get on your tippy toes.

"Good." He nodded. "How's school?” He countered. "Good." You said smiling. He smiled back at you letting you back away a bit but keeping you within arms distance a hand still on your waist. You clinked your glass with his and downed the rest of your drink, him following suit. He grabbed your empty glass and placed it on the nearest table coming back to keep you company as you danced. A few minutes later and Suna was dying to get you alone. He was gonna do it. He was gonna make a move.

He grabbed your wrist pulling you close to his lips, "you wanna smoke?" he asked pulling up a pack of cigarettes. You eagerly nodded, "should I get Osamu and Atsumu?" you said looking around for your brothers.

"Fuck 'em, I don't feel like looking for them right now." He said desperately hoping you'd agree. You nodded and he turned around lacing his fingers with yours to pull you towards the outdoor area at the club. Successfully getting outside he watched as you shiver in the cold air. He pulls a cigarette from the packet and place it between his lips lighting it quickly and taking a puff. He hands off the cigarette to you and pulls off his leather jacket. He holds it open,

"Come on." He says to you gesturing to the jacket.

"Oh my gosh no Sunarin it's freezing put that back on." You said shaking your head smoke curling between you two from the lit cigarette between your fingers.

"Exactly Y/N its fucking freezing and some of us are wearing more than 2 inches of clothing." He said looking you up and down.

"Hey quit calling me a whore." You pouted puffing out smoke and crossing your arms.

"I'm so sorry, in exchange for your forgiveness please accept my jacket." He watched as you smiled and turned around letting him place the jacket on your shoulders. He tried to hide his laugh as he saw his jacket engulf your frame, falling farther than your miniskirt and well over your hands.

"Rin, I look like a fucking idiot.” You deadpanned. His heart jumped at the tender nickname and he let out a smile.

"Noooo, you look amazing!" He placated taking the cigarette from you with a teasing smile. Before he could take a drag, you looked up at him smiling brightly. He looked down at you getting lost in the way the streetlights reflected in your eyes. He moves the hand not holding the cigarette up towards your face not yet touching. He brings his face closer to yours watching your smile fall into something more shy and fragile. He looks between your eyes and lips quickly, palm barely brushing the side of your face.

"Is it okay if I.." He trailed off once again glancing down. Your breath hitched as you nodded slightly eyes fluttering closed. A few seconds passed and Suna hadn't kissed you yet making you crack one eye to see him biting his lip gazing at your face.

"Quit staring at me, just do it if you're gonna." You said fully opening your eyes and rolling them, heat coming to your cheeks and going to pull away. He laughed lightly and stopped you hand pressing to the side of your face.

"You're just pretty." He said moving closer lips barely brushing. "Wanna look at you a bit." You rolled your eyes and went to retort until you felt his lips on yours, all thoughts zapped from your mind. You kissed back hesitantly pushing closer to Suna. The hand on the side of your face moved to cradle the back of your head titling it giving Suna access to kiss you harder. You placed your shaky hands on his chest pressing when crushed your face to his, almost trying to consume you whole. You went to swipe your tongue to his mouth when Suna suddenly pulled away with a hiss. He dropped the butt of the now burnt cigarette shaking his fingers to get rid of the pain. He turned back to you noses brushing. He watched the dopey look fade from your eyes and clarity hitting you. He smiled as you blushed so pretty, skin hot against his hands. He laughed and kissed your cheek down to your neck as you placed your hands on his shoulders pushing him.

"Oh my god get off we're in public," You giggled hands weakly batting at his chest. He pulled away and held your wrists gazing down at you with a soft smile. Your eyes were reluctantly torn away from his when your phone started buzzing.

"It's Atsumu." You said when he leaned down to look over your shoulder cheek brushing yours. "He's asking where we are."

Suna pulled his phone out when it also started going off picking up without looking at the caller id assuming it was Osamu,

"SUNARIN!!!!" He heard a voice boom on the other end,

"Bokuto-san?" Suna asked confused pulling his phone away to check, and sure enough it was an unsaved number. "How did you even get my phone number?"

"COME BACKKK" "please don't fuck my sister in a shitty club." Suna heard Bokuto's yells fade away and Osamu's voice come through clear.

He looked down at you watching as you titled your head in confusion like a puppy.

Suna rolled his eyes ending the call, not deigning Osamu with a response.

"We gotta go back in huh." You said taking off his jacket. He quickly grabbed the edges and pulled you up kissing you hard. You were standing on your tippy toes when Suna's arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand once again cradling your head. You felt his tongue slip into your mouth lightly before pulling away entirely.

"Keep it on." He said smirking down at you and grabbing your hand. You were still disoriented until he pulled you back inside the club lacing your fingers with his. He looked back over his shoulder at you and pulled you closer, walking you both back towards the table.

You saw Eita leaned over the bench by Ushijima. He smiled at you knowingly when he took in Suna's hand in yours and his jacket around your shoulders. He snorted when you blushed and silently screamed to show your excitement.

"Y/N-CHAN!" Bokuto's big voice boomed heading towards you. Bokuto was your favorite of your brothers' friends (don't tell Sunarin). He bounded over to you wrapping you up in a big hug breaking apart you and Suna. You eagerly returned it jumping around in a circle with him.

"Isn't that jacket a bit big for you? Still love your outfit though!" Bokuto said looking you up and down.

"Yeah Y/N, isn't that jacket a bit big?" Atsumu asked teasingly. "Doesn't it look more like a men's?" Osamu asked joining him. "Looks just like something Sunarin would wear now that I think about it huh 'Samu." "You've got a point there 'Tsumu." You hoped they both got run over by a train.

"Again for the second time tonight, jump off a building like actually both you." You said shoving Osamu into the booth to sit beside him.

You slipped out of the jacket and handed it off to Sunarin thanking him. He took it back with a pout and you rolled your eyes. The rest of the night passed by with you joking and dancing along to the music with the rest of your friends. You couldn’t help but keep thinking about the kiss. Did Suna like you? Did he just want to fuck you? Shit either way you’d be down. The rest of the night Suna didn’t make a move considering you were around all your friends but every time you looked in his direction he was already staring at you, giving you butterflies at every stolen glance. At the end of the night Suna gave you his jacket once again and pushed you into the inner seat on the train sitting down beside you to press his thigh to yours. You sat with your thighs clenched and body curled in on itself to retain warmth while Suna manspread in the seat beside you laughing at your shivering. He ran his hands down the front of his thighs pinky extended to brush against your skin. He smirked when goosebumps followed the path of his finger.

“Still cold?” He asked whispering to you. You pouted and nodded at him burying yourself further into his jacket. He moved his hand onto your plush thigh rubbing the skin to warm you up squeezing when he couldn’t hold back the urge. “Get a fucking room.” Atsumu said glaring at you two. “That’s the plan when the train stops.” You said sticking your tongue out at him.

“Oh gross while I’m in the house seriously?” Osamu asked pulling a disgusted face.

The three of you laughed while Osamu shook his head and shivered. Your train stop came and all four of you walked back to your small apartment Osamu and Atsumu in front of you as you and Suna trailed behind them hands brushing but neither one of you daring to grab. What happened to all the confidence you had earlier? What happened to Sunarin who had kissed you so sweetly first? You were lost in your thoughts when you came to your doorstep Suna grabbing your wrist as Osamu and Atsumu proceeded inside. You looked at him with a confused glance.

"Everything ok?" You asked.

"Why do you think I kissed you?" Suna asked dropping your wrist and putting his hands in his pockets.

Feeling very put on the spot you shrunk into yourself a bit only to remember his heavy jacket drenched in cologne on your shoulders. Your gaze briefly cut up to his before looking down and biting the corner of your lip. You never thought he'd like you. You had the most massive crush on Sunarin all throughout high school, fucking Eita and every guy after him in college to get over those memories. And you thought you were! Truly you had convinced yourself you didn't like him anymore. Sure you had a huge smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach as you watched him play the national court in Paris. Yeah maybe every time you visited Hyogo you prayed and hoped Osamu or Atsumu would bring him back with them. But you had convinced yourself, firmly. At least until he moved in with you.

Suna was different than he was in high school. Back then it was puppy love. You liked almost all of your brothers' friends, you were notorious for having a crush on nearly every member of the volleyball team. With Sunarin it was different. You never explicitly told him you liked him. Not like with Aran or Ginjimia. You convinced yourself over and over you wouldn't be that bitch. You wouldn't fall for your brothers' best friend just because he was around. He was only friends with you because of them anyway.

"Y/N?" He questioned when you hadn't responded for almost a minute.

Anyway, Suna was different now. He was bigger, he was stronger. He was more mature, less biting and mean. He mellowed out. Now, you couldn't convince yourself you didn't like him. You had become that bitch.

"Sorry." You said releasing your lip before you chewed a hole through the skin. "I don't know Sunarin, you tell me?" You redirected his question nervously. "Heat of the moment? Liquor? Fuck, maybe you're just pent up. Neither of us have gotten laid in a very long time."

"Y/N, I like you." He said so easily. As if he didn't just destroy your entire world view. As if the past 9 years of you wishing on a star every night to get rid of the crush you had him meant nothing. You gaped at him mouth wide open.

"Go on a date with me." He asked pushing your chin up, clicking your teeth together.

"I-yeah. Sure. Of course." You said excitement creeping up onto your face barely containing yourself from jumping around in glee.

"I'll text you then." Suna said smiling with just as much joy.

"You have fun doing that without my number." You said crossing your arms watching as Suna's mouth opened and closed thinking of a retort.

"Whatever just get inside it's cold and the neighbors are gonna complain." He rolled his eyes and pushed you around towards the door.

"Oh I'll give the neighbors something to complain about." You said smirking at him, opening the door. ‘What had he created’, Suna thought as he gaped at you red coming to his cheeks.

"Not in this house you won't." Osamu said arms crossed as you opened the door.

"Were you fucking eavesdropping?" Suna asked smile immediately dropping, frowning at Osamu and Atsumu standing in foyer.

"I needed to know if you would hurt my baby sister!" Atsumu admonished.

"I'm adopted and less than a year younger than you." You said rolling your eyes.

"I'm serious Suna! Do NOT FUCK IN THIS HOUSE!" Osamu yelled as the two of you climbed the stairs. Of course you had no plans of fucking Suna in the bedroom across from your brother's, but seeing Osamu get mad was too good.

#suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff

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macknshift · 22 days ago

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[ ☀️ 🗺️ 🪼&👙 ] for your marauders reality pleasseee 🥺🙏

YIPPEEEEEE THE DR I LIVE MY MERMAID PRINCESS FANTASY IN!!!! (thank u for the ask pooks)

𐔌 . ☀️ ⋮ DAYS OF SUN ֹ ₊ ꒱ what are your go-to summertime activities? do you and your friends plan big garden parties with all the fruits and snacks? maybe a charcuterie board? possibly a water balloon tournament?

day-to-day, i do three things; swim (in a lake near my house. it's enchanted to not have any creatures or illnesses in it, Thank God!) read, and tan. i lay out in the sun for so long every day. i know that logically i don't have to care about tanning bc i'm a metamorphagus and i can change my skin color at whim (which i don't do?? btw??? i've seen ppl say that they do and i am NAWT a race changer good lord) and also the sun is not that strong in my hometown, but i just like laying in the sun and getting a nice bit of outside time. i usually bring an enchanted mp3 player so i don't have to bring any electronics with me lol

otherwise, i just like popping in and visiting my friends where they live. i think i visit remus the most (mainly bc we're bffs but also his family is so sweet (his younger sister adores me, i'm like her idol or smth lol)) but i go see james specifically a lot too. (euphemia hooks me up w some of the best food i've ever had in my entire life LMFAO) my friends obviously come and visit me too, so it's not like i'm the one travelling to them 24/7, but it is a really fun activity to just go floo-ing around the greater UK area lol

𐔌 . 🗺️ ⋮ WORLD WIDE MAP ֹ ₊ ꒱ if you could have one fantastic trip where would you go? why would you go there? what intrigues you about that place? are there certain activities there that have attracted you there?

i would LOVE to visit japan. japan is overall a bucket list country for me anyway, but i can imagine that the magic system there is probably pretty different. besides that, i just really want to go to the studio ghibli museum y’all 🙏🏻🙏🏻 like PLEAK just once and i will be a happy clam i promise i will be!!!!!! i honestly don't know who would come with me tee bee h. i feel like logically i could drag remus with me he would basically go anywhere w me and probably (weirdly) alice fortescue? she's japanese (adopted by the fortescues!) and i know that she likes to travel based on her and frank planning on taking a gap year once they graduate (they graduate 2 years before i do!) so maybe? mayhaps? alice would come along? i think i could also convince marlene too. she's on a "my parents want me to stay inside SO I MUST TRAVEL!" kick rn (which like, good for her tbh)

𐔌 . 🪼 ⋮ COLORFUL JELLYFISH ֹ ₊ ꒱ okay, we're going to the biggest aquarium in the world. where are you dragging me first? to the large sharks? the exotic fish? fish tank tunnel to watch the fish above us? or are you mad at me because you wanted to go get ice cream instead?

on top of the whole. u know. mermaid fairy princess vibe i try to have, i deadass think i can talk to fish. like, not shitting you, i think i can. or at least like. dolphins. (they’re kind of terrifying but my mom’s patronus is one so i’ve learned to appreciate them LMFAO)

personally i looove just running around and seeing all the little guys. like the tiny ones that get overlooked for the Big Kahunas™️ bc that’s just how i am as a person i think??? idk i’m just a “look out for the little guy” type ig. besides that! however! as i mentioned in the marvel dr answer, i do tend to go insane for the fish tank tunnels. in my cobra kai dr i’m sooo excited to go to the sekai taikai solely for that aquarium i’m so srs LMFAOOO obvi barcelona *said in the voice of that kid from booksmart that says s-es as ‘th’* will be super fun but like!!! aquarium!!!!!! i am getting off track lol

𐔌 . 👙 ⋮ DOTTED BIKINI ֹ ₊ ꒱ what are your dearest summer pieces? a swimsuit that highlights the color of your eyes and makes you feel good? an old band tee you put on after you're done swimming? a new top with pretty flowers on it?

*kim crawford dance* THIS MY JAM!!!!!! the little collage i made above is pretty much the vibe for my summer clothing! i'm ngl, i dress pretty much the same every single season, just varying amounts of skin showing 😭😭 i'm a metamorphagus as well, so i change my hair color based on whatever i'm wearing that day too. i normally stick to those same pastels & everything, and of course the vibe is pastel mermaid princess, so my hair is either the typical pastel pink (what i make my 'default') OR a bright blonde with streaks of whatever color i'm wearing that day (usually pink, purple, or blue streaks!) which i think is super fun.

jewelry wise, i stick to the same jewelry i wear all year (i have a heart-shaped locket necklace from my parents that has a photo of me and my family & a photo of my nuna and bamp (my grandparents) and another necklace that has a sea star pendant from my mom. i wear a crap ton of rings, with various jewels and things and a few separate bracelets, including a charm bracelet with a charm for each year i complete of school, which is super fun. kind-of pjo vibes a bit?) BUT! i wear a lot of arm cuffs? i think they look super cool, and it kind of adds to the whole beach-y vibe. it's kind of ironic that my ass lives in (lowkey) dreary belfast, ireland, but it's alright!!! i travel a bunch!!!

#mack answers #mack loves theo #mack's marauders dr #i loooove being a mermaid fairy witch princess

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solangelo-taylors-version · 8 months ago

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What are your Solangelo headcanons?

I’m so sorry you had to wait so long! I basically spent ages to staring at a wall trying to think up my best ones. So, here you go @hazellevessque!

As soon as Will found out Nico spoke Italian, he immediately went and learned some, and then surprised him

Or, Will speaks Italian because it’s the language of music (just like Piper can speak French because it’s the language of love), and Nico was ranting about losing Capture the Flag to Clarisse.

He was speaking rapid fire Italian, and Will just came over, and said: "Va tutto bene, amore mio. Calmati. Unisciti alla prossima volta?”

(“It’s okay, my love. Calm down. Team up next time?”)

Nico didn’t know how to ask Will out so he just came up to him and said “Me. You. Tonight. At seven. Be there” and left.

Will just stood there looking stunned, then went back to his cabin and partied.

(Alternate idea to what they said to Gloria in TSATS)

When Will and Nico adopted their first baby girl (pretty sure this is canon, but I don’t know), they called her Bianca Di Angelo-Solace

Will and Nico both had playlists dedicated to each other and never found out until they were well into the relationship (credit to @a-headcanon-a-day)

Will, as child of Apollo, is as scared of snakes as children of Athena are scared of spiders. He absolutely PANICS.

Nico is very protective of his boyfriend and his instincts always make him grab Will or cover Will with his body whenever some danger occurs. (credit to @nicodisigma)

Will would totally initiate random lightsaber fights. Like he would attack his siblings all the time just...out of nowhere (it's the ADHD).

Kayla would roll her eyes and threaten to snap the saber in half. Austin would play along and fall to the floor and dramatically die.

But the first person to actually fight back was Nico, who secretly has his own lightsaber hidden in the shadows. And he would disarm Will in some sort of fancy move that would leave Will stuttering and blushing because it was hot.

(Fastest way to get to Will's heart is with a lightsaber) (credit to @ace-writer-lani)

Will’s clingy when it’s summer because Nico’s always colder than an average human and Nico’s clingy in the winter because Will is a walking furnace. (Credit to @yonemurishiroku for this one)

#solangelo #solangelo headcanons #@yonemurishiroku #@ace-writer-lani #@nicodisigma #@a-headcanon-a-day)#@hazellevessque #Love you hazellevessque #Solangelo is so cute though #Hands down #nico + will #will + nico

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allthedamnlove · 4 months ago

Text

AQUAMARINE: RAFE CAMERON X SOFIA FANFICTION: CHAPTER 3, PART 1

Previous Chapter

Face claim for a new OC, Victoria Ramirez: Sofia Carson

WORDCOUNT: 7.5K

Radio for the chapter:

Sofia's POV:

“Well, to wear blue or not to wear blue ‘tis the question, what do you think?”

Merrp Merrp

“Oh my God, Sofia, are you still talking to the cat?”

I heard my cousin Victoria Ramirez's voice boom through Facetime. She appeared on camera with a bowl of cut-up fruit on her hands, and I could feel her amusement radiating from miles away.

“Shut up, Vic. Mishmish is a good and fair judge of character and also has an impeccable fashion sense, aren’t you, my niñita?” I concurred as I threw a sideways look at my tabby ginger cat, Mishmish, with her irresistible chubby face and snow-white neck adorning a cute blue ribbon, positioned suavely in her loaf position on her cat bed as she peered at me with observant eyes. I found this cutie when I visited here for summer vacations four years ago and she was just a lone kitten, probably left astray by her mom, shivering on our family’s porch. My sisters and I felt so bad for her and thought we would send her to the adoption center the next day after we bathed the poor kitten.

That didn’t happen at all. And now I am a mom to the most adorable, chatty cat ever.

“I wish I could aww at you but I am just sad that you have no social life and that all you do is bartend and yap to your cat which by the way, doesn't even understand what you’re saying”

“Well, you can stop feeling sorry for me ‘cuz I-” I shot back as I twirled around, clutching my possible outfit for the party by its coat hanger, “-am going to a Kook party. With a special invite”

“Uh huh, now I am invested.” she came closer to the camera, keeping her food on the table, “whose party is it, anyway?”

“Rafe Cameron invited me to go to his party, Vic. Yesterday night. After I embarrassed myself in front of him by going to a prohibited beach”

“OH! Now why didn’t you tell me that crucial piece of info before, missy? Wait. Hold up, you went swimming in a prohibited area, Where? How? What happened? Oh my God, did you die? Am I talking to Sofia's haunted soul?”

“Yup I did, and before you start bombarding me with questions again, I’ll just say what happened: basically I was sick of working. Again as usual. And then I wanted to do something out of the blue, something fun and spontaneous. And so I saw the beach and no one was there which I should have thought that through and then I just went in, mind you, I literally stripped my clothes off and was about to dive and then I felt two hands literally pulling me and then I went autopilot mode and then I screamed and guess who it was who grabbed me…” I threw my hands in the air as I recollected that painful memory, “Rafe. fucking. Cameron.”

God, that was in my top ten moments of Sofia Ramirez being an absolute dumb dumb.” I might not have died from the water, but I sure did when I turned around and saw him.

Funnily enough, I was thinking about the flirty-not-flirty conversation we had in the bar a week ago. That night when I lay in bed, sleep didn’t even befriend me as I stared at the night light all night, thinking about the teasing smiles he threw at me and my heart shaking as I quipped back at him, the pink light emanating fresh bits and pieces of memories as I mindlessly stared it for hours. For the town’s certified cokehead, he was charming to the T.

And god I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive.

When he asked me if I could come to his party after seeing me in my most unattractive set of underwear that had been used for a year, my mind just went circuit. I just said “Yes” I knew that I had met him only twice, that too, never had a proper conversation but this flicker of attraction and child-like curiosity about this guarded man is gnawing me alive. And the way our eyes can’t stop talking to each other in a language I couldn’t even understand, it’s like whenever we both look into each other, my brain just stops its blood flow and the immaterial part of my muscled heart, and my eyes just race to find his eyes and just, stare at him.

I should probably choose a dress for this damn party.

Victoria’s voice cut through my reverie, “Ok, so now you’re going to his party, and then what…you just gonna stand there and wave at him…or…” she arched her eyebrows as she said,” You’re actually doing something there…or…someone there, huh?”

I picked up my phone from my table and I narrowed my eyes at her, her jet-black straight hair reflecting light on her screen “Ok, first of all, shut up. And two, I’m going there because he asked me to, okay, and yeah, I’ll probably stare at the wall and drink some wine or probably some beer and say hi to him. I am not going to “do” anyone, so can it!”

“Be real for a second. How long has it been since you actually got your back blown out?” I opened my mouth to make her stop but she continued, “Wait, never. So why don’t you actually get sum by a guy who presumably has fucked half of the Kook’s female population, I mean, he may have some STD but you can still ask him if he’s clean-”

“BYEE, VICKY. REMIND ME TO NEVER CALL YOU.”

“SUA VADIA. And DON’T FORGET, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU-”

The call got disconnected with a soft PLOP.

I threw the damned phone, my outfit, and then myself on my bed, the bedspring squeaking as my body hit the lavender comforter.

I cupped my hands on my face as I groaned as quietly as I could. I hate that she’s right. I hate that my thieving mind wanted to make out with a guy I just met.

Am I ovulating or is this how it really feels to have a crush on a guy on the daily?

In my twenty years of living and breathing oxygen, it is a joy and a slight humiliation that I have not had a proper sexual experience. I know I am way too young to even utter that sentence and I have all my life to experience “bodily pleasures” but the one time I made out with a guy was not “pleasurable” at all. It turns out that when you’re both eighteen, virgins, and have known each other for three years and then try “explore” each other, it becomes really awkward at some point when the other person can’t do a proper handjob and then you’re unsatisfied. Still, you can’t also tell that person cause you don’t wanna shame him.

Then the worst part comes.

You can’t even look him in the eyes the next day without turning beet red or wanting to sprint away from him yet you are stuck with him since he was your dance partner. Yeah, that technically means I am still a virgin.

However, a dark cloud passed over my memory as I thought about the implications of baring my body and soul if I give myself to a person. Murky thoughts. No, not thoughts but memories.

"Sofía, tienes un pecho perfecto… Para bailar, por supuesto" (Sofia, you have a perfect chest. For dancing, of course)

"Sofía, te ves muy gorda. No puedo creer que realmente te hayan dado permiso para estar aquí" (Sofia, you look so fat. Can't believe you actually got permission to be here)

"Veamos de cerca el cuerpo perfecto que mi papá nos dijo que tienes" (Let's look at the perfect body that my dad told us you have up close)

“SOFIAAA, I NEED HELP!”

I shot up as I saw Isabella, my youngest sister standing in front of my room, her walkman in one hand and her teddy bear, Beans in the other. The pink plastic tic-tac clips with charms shimmered as the light hit her hair; an adorable pout situated on her face that mirrored my features. Out of my twin sisters, Isabella “Ines” Ramirez has been endowed with my features: her oval face, chestnut brown eyes, and wavy black hair that curls around winter; my ma always says that she even smiles like me, eyes crinkling, dimples and all. She tumbled towards me and accompanied me on the bed, crashing beside me, sitting cross-legged amidst the mountain of all the clothes that I own.

“Sof, I need you to change this song, it keeps replaying. I wanna listen to Night Changes, not Kiss You.”

I take full responsibility for introducing Isabella to the best boyband ever, (yes, it is my subjective opinion but also it's a fact, get over it) when she was seven. It’s been three years yet she loves that band to death. Her side of the twins’ room, like any other fangirl, is filled to the brim with 1D merchandise; from her school bag, and pencil pouch to the spoon that she uses for cereal, she has been obsessed with those boys and I, for one, am ecstatic since I can sing along to One Direction in the car when I pick her up from school when Alejandra side-eyes both of us.

Both Isabella and Alejandra are ten now so my ma and pa are very stringent on using mobile phones or even any electronic devices. Isabella and Ajendra have second-hand walkmans that they can listen to music with headphones for 2 hours, (they can blast music on speakerphone anytime but my ma fears that they may get deaf by twenty-five if they excessively use headphones). Other than that, they can use a common laptop for one hour for “entertainment” purposes and only and only if they finish homework. Theo is sixteen now and so shamelessly uses the excuse “Pa, my homework is in the laptop, so just get me a new one” Well, he got a laptop but again, a secondhand one. We haven’t got the funds to buy him a new one but Theo was happy with what he got.

Isabella is not as tech-savvy as Alejandra and Alejandra has probably run to the neighbor’s house to do quilling with Brianna, her best friend. Alejandra is the “people’s princess” and befriends people in seconds; she is an extrovert to the core and spends her time folding colored papers into cranes and other crafty shapes, quilling, and being a Girl Scout. Meanwhile, Isabella is not as boisterous as my other sister; sure she is also pretty friendly and has a tight friend circle of five (I don’t even have that many people to call as “friends”) but sometimes she just likes to blast One Direction and Taylor Swift on full sound, dote on my parents, Theo and mainly me; and read books. But obviously, Alejandra is her favorite person in the world; after all, she is her twin. However, being #2 in her favorite list (I love it when she bashfully smiles and says “I love you all” when we joke about who’s her favorite) means she just likes to barge into my room when she’s bored or is confused about her walkman not working. Or sometimes she just comes into my room with the most random questions, expecting an answer from me when I am deadbeat from work.

“Sofi, where do fish go when they die in the sea?”

“Sofi, I wanna go to the big place in my geography book where there’s so much snow and bears that look white” (she’s talking about the Arctic and the polar bear by the way)

“Sof, why do people call taco, “taco?” (this question haunted me for nights cause same)

But I love to sit and answer her questions as much as I can since I know that time runs as fast as light does and I may regret not spending time with my siblings when they’re scrolling through TikTok ten years later and go non-verbal when I ask them, “How’s life?”.

The kook kids that I see at the restaurant in the country club make me feel scared for the sake of humanity, let me tell you. Unavailable parents combined with unfettered access to all the riches in the world, I feel so bad for those kids who try to fill the void their parents create but then they get rude with the waiters, and then I immediately lose my shred of empathy for them.

“Oh, Isa. Gimme your walkman. You probably might have clicked the replay button. Lemme disable it.”

Her hands tenderly gave me her device, the edges of the walkman smudged, losing its nude pink color. The harsh white light of the screen hurt my eyes for a second as I changed the settings in her Walkman, her chin resting gingerly on my shoulder. As I fidgeted to give her device back, she took a once over to my another possible outfit for the party; a spaghetti strap baby blue slip dress, flowery lace patterns stitched at the hem; the scooped up neckline accentuating my decolletage.

“Sofi, where are you all dressed up and going?”

I am going to a guy’s party to probably drink myself to the point of no return or flirting back at him while he just ends up hooking up with some other hot Kook.

“Oh, just to see a friend”

“Well, I hope you have fun, Sofia. I never see you going out that much since you came home from Mexico” her innocent voice airing out the pathetic state of my social life

Gosh, that’s a low blow and, that’s coming from a kid.

I knew her comment was innocent so I had to be the bigger person and say, “I will, thank you, Isa. By the way, stop clicking that button if you wanna listen to the whole playlist” It’s not she’s never been given a phone at all but the big sister part of me can’t help it.

Still, she listened and shook her head vehemently, “THANK YOU SOFI, YOU THE BEST” she screamed as ran back to her room.

Kids.

My attention went back to the task at hand as I helplessly stared at the gargantuan pile of dresses, hoping that an impeccable, show-stopping outfit would just magically appear out of thin air.

Should I just call Rafe and tell him that I am not coming to the party because I have periods…which I don’t.

I can just dip out of this very rare occasion of me socializing with people and I can spend my weekend like any other, munching on Takis as I watch YouTube compilations of ballerina dancers or a movie on an illegal website and, pester my ma as she cooks dinner at night and then I crash out on the bed, pensively contemplating about what could have been, should have been.

Or maybe I could face the music, stop feeling sorry for myself, and, go see Rafe at his party and try being a normal twenty-year-old girl, chat up a pretty boy, try to get sloshed, and maybe dip my toes in his pristine pool that he totally has. And maybe, maybe he’ll keep his word and be my tour guide and show me this “spot” that he was raving about.

Most importantly I am slightly enamored by his overall demeanor, the air of casual indifference seeping with his mysterious, almost quizzical lore surrounding him rendered me curious. The two times we met, the aquamarine-eyed boy’s ridiculous charm and, smiles and sugary words made me dissolve my barely-existing conscience.

Screw it, I am going to see what’s all the hype about a Kook party.

And the fact that I even thought of telling practically a stranger that I have periods…I gotta get better at being a socially functional human.

So with all the strength I had, I bundled all the clothes lying on my bed and crammed them into the unkempt wooden cupboard which already looked like it survived a hurricane with all of my underwear mixed with my work uniform with my other old clothes. As I closed it with my back facing the cupboard, my eyes caught the makeup box half opened on my vanity, the various shades of blushes, lip stains, and the half-finished concealer tube taunting my mind.

I walked over to the mirror, my eyes catching every blemish and dull spot on my face. There’s a new minute red spot on the apple of my cheeks and the crease underneath my eye is more prominent.

Ugh, why do my eyes always linger on the faults and why do I always wanna cover up the imperfections with caked-up makeup till the point that my tears wash away all the hard brushing I do over my face every day when I go to work?

I wish I would have said I didn’t let my insecurities win over my heart but my fingers grabbed the cherry red lip stain and, slathered it along my chapped lips and then fluffed the excess on my cheeks, hoping that the blush would cover my blemishes.

Ok, now I look…presentable. I twirled myself in front of the mirror, giving a final look at my ensemble, hoping that I wouldn’t change my outfit again. I took my brush combed the unkempt baby hairs and left my room, hastily climbing down the stairs, hoping that I wouldn’t regret the decision to say yes to Rafe Cameron’s party tomorrow.

That’s when I remembered. I forgot my phone and my purse.

Yikes. We are off to a good start.

************

A few hours ago, I promised myself that I absolutely wouldn’t change my dress, right?

That was a lie. I changed my mind and wore another dress.

As I took a peek of myself in the car mirror, I thought to myself for the millionth time, “How the hell did I end up here?”

My blue dress was replaced by a breezy coral red dress reaching up to the flesh of my thighs, the fabric littered with pink, orange, and yellow floral prints all over it. My red colored bra was playing peek-a-boo underneath the outfit, making my insides feel pretty sheepish. My makeup and hair were completely frazzled now, stray hairs having a party over my forehead and the lip stain lost its magic, leaving me with a very light pinkish-red hue on my lips. My blush was completely smudged off with a bare face and my mind spinning in excitement and anxiety,

As I parked my car over the spacious parking space adjacent to the lush gardens with trimmed grass and perfectly cut trees, I hoped that I didn’t look like my jaw was on the floor as I gawked at this mansion of a “house”

Goddamn, this guy’s place looks massive.

Tannyhill, in all its glory, stood tall and huge. With a capacious balcony and mint green paint radiating sunlight, the mansion screamed wealth and old money. I grabbed my purse tight as I leisurely walked into Rafe’s supposed “home,” hoping that I bump into him. I was in awe as I went in, the interior baffling me more. High ceilings, a chandelier with twinkling glass beads twinkling in the sun, a grand staircase with thick white marble railings in the middle, and a large wooden table in the center of the room with a large fireplace at one corner, the furnished shelf above it housing a plethora of photo frames.

The house was packed too, unknown faces crowding my view as they walked into the house with beers or solo red cups on their faces, bikini-clad bodies shimmying their hips and bobbing their head to Young Thug rapping on the enormous JBL speakers situated at one of the corners of the massive room.

I drudged around the crowd, too situate myself near the fireplace where the photos were there. Before I walked over to silently snoop at them, I felt a towering presence behind me.

“See something you like, Miss Sofia?”

I turned around at lightning speed, his baritone tone made me spin and there he was, the man of the hour, Rafe Cameron walking down the stairs, hands in his cornflower blue trousers and beige polo shirt, gold-lined aviators hiding those cheeky eyes and that smug smirk gracing his berry lips.

“Oh, I was just looking around, I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“Nah, you’re fine. I’m actually surprised that you showed up” he stood in front of me, his looming energy enveloping my vicinity.

“Well, I’m not the one for turning down polite offers. And I wanna see for myself how you party, so…” I wanted to thank him for inviting him but I stopped myself short. If we are going to play this back-and-forth game of flirty comments, he better start the serve.

“Now that you are here, lemme show you how we actually do things in Outer Banks. Follow me,” he beckoned me to join him as his long legs led me upstairs, my feet trying to catch up with his speed. The first floor looked more grand if that even makes sense. The walls were adorned with hand-painted lush flora, green leaves, and blue hydrangeas, and another smaller chandelier hanging in the middle of the room that led to the balcony on one side and four other rooms on the other.

We both crossed the threshold, now with a solo cup in my right hand as he turned towards me and said, “Now if you kindly follow Miss Sofia, the VIP Section.” he pointed towards the huge balcony overlooking the sea, two big brown sofas encircling a round table and multiple white chairs littering the area. It was so spacious that it could fit a party of thirty on that singular floor.

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah, only very very very special people are allowed in here, as you can see,” he said as he put his hands on my shoulder and in turn, made my legs and arms into jelly.

He just casually put his hands on my shoulder and I just want to faint.

I could have just let my hands go limp but no, instinctually my arms went up to his clothed, chiseled shoulder blades, and smirked at his shameless flirting.

“Uh huh…” I shot back a teasing smile as I looked up at him.

He led me to the wooden railing; the view in front of me taking my breath away again. A horde of partygoers were just swaying to Drake booming on another speaker on the veranda down below with the DJ throwing random signs at the crowd, and a spotless beach situated just a few meters in front of the colonial mansion. Rafe caging me on one arm, pointed his other hand holding a solo red cup like me, toward the line of trees, its leaves crowning like it was the entrance of a fairyland, azure waters, frothy white waves jumping from a faraway distance. The golden ring, with some indescribable engraving, glimmered as he showed me around his place.

I was nearly smushed to his chest as he said, “As you can see, there’s the water,” I, too, looked around towards the directions he pointed as he continued, “Then there’s the beach. The next neighbor lives like a mile away from mine, it’s that private.”

Then his eyes went to the ongoing raucous at the party and he howled at the party under the balcony. He looked like he was having the time of his life, with everyone hollering at him, calling his name, and high-fiving him before we even reached upstairs minutes ago. Rafe Cameron seemed he was holding the world in his hands and I was witnessing it.

“Hey, that’s no Jim Beam Bullshit, alright. That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a day’s salary bro. AND IF YOU HAVEN’T GOT A DRINK IN YOUR HAND, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE”

I can’t help but openly laugh at his caveman-esque antics. Rafe was buzzed from alcohol and a flush to his cheeks. His hands were off of me now, leaving a gaping space that I never thought I felt before and then he took off his sunglasses and threw another smirk at me as he took off his sunglasses and slinked them on the collar of his polo.

I couldn’t help but say, “So, this is the VIP life, huh?”

His smile was soft as he said, “Yeah”

“Cool.”

We just looked at each other

“You wanna see some more?” he suggested. He’s all in for being my gracious host today, isn’t he? I didn’t wanna leave him and his infectious company so I was completely fine with him taking anywhere with me.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

His hands found purchase on my body once again as he said, “GREAT NEWS! THAT’S GREAT NEWS. Lemme show you the grand tour.” As we both started leaving the crowded room, a flash of blue nylon appeared on our side, stopping us.

“Don’t go runnin’” a buzz-cut man with harsh brown eyes and blue sneakers mentioned towards Rafe. He abruptly stopped for a minute and let go of me, now gently placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Hey, give me five minutes, I’ll come see you soon.”

I didn’t want to seem like a clingy pest but I was slightly down that our plans were cut off.

Stop it, Sofia. It’s only five minutes. Calm down, geez.

I played it safe and just said, “Okay.”

Both men now wore taut expressions as I walked out of the place, but then I heard the other guy screaming, “COUNTRY CLUB!!!”

Feeling explorative, my feet carried me downstairs to the veranda, planning to scout around the party as well as the mansion. They were playing Playboy Carti now, and everyone was slurring their words as the partygoers were all absolutely sloshed or probably coked up or high and it was only 6:30 pm.

Dazed and confused, I saw a girl eating Cool Ranch Doritos in the middle of the dancefloor, bobbing her head as the bass hit her eardrums.

Now that’s something I can vibe with.

If I am stuck in a party where I don’t know anyone but the host, might as well have some fun alone I guess. Fun, meaning finding the pantry or snack stash.

This is going to be a long day.

**********

I’m on my second pack of family-sized Red Hot Cheetos. And still on my first can of some random root beer.

And, I think most of the people here are mentally floating in some other dimension while I am observing them like some scientist but with toxic red dust on my chin.

It’s 8 pm.

Why am I still here, you may ask? Well, it was not like I was completely alone for an hour and a half, Rafe checked in on me every twenty minutes while I was sitting cross-legged on his kitchen counter. He actually came back ten minutes after I left him on the balcony

“Look who found the secret snack drawer.”

I indeed raided it just two minutes after going downstairs.

“Oh, is it ok? I don’t drink that much, not when I am alone at a party and don’t know anyone.”

“Yeah, go for it. Hey, I wanna apologize if I don’t stay with you at the party. I really want to but I-” he got cut off by another random person coming up at him and bumping chests with him, “HEYY RAFEE, MAN YOU’RE BACK!”

His attention diverted to the person in front of him but, his eyes stayed with me, apologetic as he got dragged again by that bleached blonde head who was accompanied by a throng of men who nearly trampled and took him away somewhere else.

That was an hour ago. He did try his best to come up to me once in a while but in a minute, he got approached by someone and he would bare his teeth for a minute and then switch up to greet them and then get yanked by his Kook friends. However, his vision was always on me even when he was knee-deep in another conversation, both of us playing a silent game of who would peel off their gaze first and, both of us were not backing down. We were both like two ends of a rubber band stretching out incessantly, anticipating when the band would snap, the tension creeping up over Rafe and me.

I was actually planning to leave fifteen minutes ago but, then Rafe came up to me, trudging through the horde of people across the room, panting and all, eyes glossier than ever, and rushed over his words, “Hey, I am so sorry that I didn’t spend enough time with you when I literally invited you. Just give me…fifteen minutes. I promise I’ll come back and really show the place around and, be with you.”

He looked so desperate that I couldn’t help but say, “Ok, I’ll wait. But it’s ok. I’ll leave if you are busy, clearly, you seem like the life of the party. And I don’t wanna impose…”

“No! Please, I…I’ll be back. Just stand here and look pretty like you have been doing for the past hour.”

Now, I’m here, hoping that he keeps his word or otherwise, I’m leaving in five minutes.

I sipped on my root beer; my feet dangling on the counter. If I am leaving without having fun, I’m at least taking this pack of root beer for funsies.

But as per his words, I saw Rafe stroll in my direction with a whiskey glass in his hand; all his attention centered on me. Once again, I felt bashful under his piercing gaze.

“Finally,” he breathed out, “now…where were we?” he downed his drink in one long gulp.

“I don’t know, it’s your rave, Mister Cameron”

“Well then, I promised you to show you around, right? Before that, let’s have a toast, shall we? Since it’s a party and all,” he maneuvered around the tight space; and took a tequila bottle and two shot glasses from the top shelf above the counter without even trying, his height towering over my relatively shot frame. His biceps bulged as he held the bottle poured two shots into the glasses and offered it to me while sporting a small smile.

My mind is spinning in circles over his tall frame. And I haven’t even gotten drunk yet.

He was near me now, his hands inviting me to get off the counter and I took it, the ground underneath me withering for the third time today as he held his hands in mine. His hands felt comfortably warm in contrast to my ice-cold ones.

“Bottoms up, Miss Sofia"

I was heavily invested in his game now, his risque charm pulling me in at a dangerous speed.

“Bottoms up, Rafe” We both clinked our glasses, downing our drinks in one go at the same time.

Game on, I guess.

************

I lost count of how many shots of neat tequila I had, how many lime wedges my teeth bit into, or even the consecutive gulps of gin I guzzled. All I can comprehend is the calloused fingers digging into my hips as my body is glued against Rafe Cameron who, indeed gave an extensive tour of the house but my conscience was all up in the air. He took me to every room of the mansion and gave a one-line description of each room but I was invested in his booming voice, the way his eyes glimmered underneath the soft lights (which were hurting my eye now, cuz I am so close to getting pissed as hell) and the way he never let go of my hands. All I did was nod vigorously and throw in some flyaway comments like, “That’s nice,” and “Hmm…interesting.”

We were on the dance floor now, the DJ blasting “Often” by the Weekend, and, both of us stood at arm's length, our inebriated bodies slowly staggering to the beat. The sober me would have been appalled of me throwing my head back and staggering from side to side but here I am, dancing my heart out with Rafe watching me over like a hawk. His eyes were piercing as he stood with a red solo cup, looking at me like he was ready to pounce on me. And I was enthralled by the attention he was showering on me.

Fuck, for the first time in my life, my twisted heart is carnally desiring something.

At one point, the minuscule distance between us was reduced to nothing, as he tugged my tipsy self to his chest, his arms seizing my waist and we both started to sway to the sultry beat drops, basically grinding on each other. My arms crept up to his nape, my head discovering my latest favorite place to rest; his chiseled, clothed chest. Air became precious when I could hear our breaths blend in, our chests heaving in insurmountable tension.

His voice shook me to my core as he deliberately whispered in my ear, “Do you wanna go swimming in the pool?”

No, I want to keep feeling your skin on mine but I was too stunned to say no to his out-of-the-blue proposition.

“Yeah, ok,” I murmured like no one was present when the party was going on in full swing

I thought I would wobble my way to the pool outside but Rafe Cameron had other plans.

Effortlessly, he picked me up by my waist and placed me in my his arms.

Not just anyway.

Bridal style.

I was being carried by Rafe Cameron bridal style.

If I didn’t faint then, I was going to fall into an unshakable stupor now.

My heart weighed as a cloud; his hold on my body was light as a feather. My body softly thudded with each step he took toward the glimmering swimming pool and with it, my adrenaline slowly spiked. My back could feel the chlorine emanating from the water as Rafe neared the pool, his face reflecting the scintillated shine; cerulean blue eyes turning aquamarine in the warm July night. He let me down gently near the steel steps directed towards the pool; the cold tiled floor causing shivers in my feet.

With no time to waste, he peeled off his polo shirt leaving me no imagination of his sculpted chest; abs chiseled and, a prominent V-line trailing over his limbs.

Holy smokes.

“Like what you see, Miss Sofia”

“I’ll let you know later, Cameron,” I shot back as I bared off my excuse of a dress, leaving me with my red bikini. Rafe who witnessed me taking off my clothes in the most unsexy fashion shamelessly stared at me, wandering eyes trying to capture every part of my body.

“Now do you like what you see, Rafe?”

“Very much”

Fuck, he ain’t slick.

“So what now?”

“Now,” he took a once over at the pool and started to run towards it, body curling into a cannonball as he went airborne and hit the water with a big SPLASH, “we swim. I thought that was obvious, Miss Sofia. I wanted to show you the beach but hey, we both are way too tired to walk till there and swim so why not bring the beach experience, here?”

I just shook my head from side to side, drunkenly giggling and went near the stairs to go into the pool, Rafe also swimming along with me. As I climbed down into the chill waters, Rafe rushed towards me, grabbed my hands, and pulled me into his side for the second time tonight. His body felt warm against the cold swimming pool. My arms found home in his nape again, my nimble fingers softly grasping on the matted buzzcut. A tingly sensation flared up on the inside of my thighs and my heart.

Space was a foreign concept between us as we both clung to each other, Rafe holding me by the flesh of my thighs and hoisting me up to his level. I was putty in his hands, both of our bodies floating in some random flow like two leaves gliding in a river.

“So, how was the premium Rafe Cameron experience?”

“It was satisfying, to say the least. But I wish the host was more sober…”

“Heyy…”

“Kidding, kidding. No, but really, thank you, Rafe. This is the most fun I have ever had in a very very long time.”

I have never seen him smile that shyly, eyes downcast as he said, “Well, I’m glad to tell you that the fun has just started, Miss Sofia…” he let go of me as he had a sinister look in his eye.

“What are you scheming…Rafe…”

“Oh…nothing,” his lips turned into an upward chuckle as he started to push the water in my direction with all his might and splashed it in my direction, the buoyancy of the water making me lose my balance; and I slipped into the water.

“AHHH! RAFE, YOU SNEAK!”

“HAHA,” his cackle cut through the combined hum of the party as well as the silent night. I staggered for a moment and held my breath for a moment inside the pool.

If he wants to play with me, might as well give him a run for his money.

He caught on to my disappearance and panic slightly flooded his features. I felt the water sloshing as Rafe looked around, silently called me, “Sof, you ok? Hey, Sof. SOFIAAA…”

Poor guy must have thought I drowned or something. Well, I might if I keep staying like this for a few more seconds,

I rose out of the water, my bangs completely drenched and my face splotched red as I took deep breaths and tackled him, the water swishing in ripples as I latched onto his body.

“BOO!”

“JESUS SOF, My God, I thought you drowned or something.”

Worry was etched onto his face now, regret filling into those eyes that I can’t stop thinking about for no reason at all. I felt bad now and immediately cradled his head, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you properly, ok. I just wanted to get back at you for splashing water at me. I’m ok, Rafe.”

“Well, don’t do it again, ok”

Fuck, I ruined the mood. Sometimes, I wonder if there’s another nameless entity in my brain forging the most horrible decisions ever.

I snaked my arms around him, hoping that my hug would at least emulate my regret. He didn’t hesitate to hug me back, his arms imprisoning me in a sweet deadlock. We stayed in that position for a few minutes, nothing but silence speaking our thoughts out into the ether. As much as I loved being intertwined with the blonde who had been afflicting my dreams, I started to shrivel from the freezing cold pool water and let out a small ACHOO.

He was the one who pulled away, noting my incessant shivering and pruning body, “Come on, we should leave. Shit, you’re trembling.”

We both waggled our way back to the edge of the pool and got up the stairs, aware that Rafe ogled at my drenched body as I left the pool. The bikini lost its opaqueness, the translucent flimsy red material sticking on my body like second skin. He got out of the pool after me, head dripping with water but held a burning fire in his eyes. Rafe wasted no time and began rushing me inside the mansion through the backdoor; I was worried that I would be exposing my body to a bunch of drunk teenagers. However, Rafe quelled my rising insecurities when he snatched his polo shirt and draped it on me when we reached the threshold, quietly putting my hands on the sleeve holes of his shirt. My skin burned whenever he touched, making me shiver in heat.

“I have some towels in my room, dry yourself off,” he muttered as he took me in the direction of the staircase, bypassing the party which was slowly dwindling down, the DJ playing a very random song in some unknown language and only a few people littering the living space, slowly sipping on alcohol, the stench of weed and cigarette infiltrating my nostrils.

We entered a peacock-blue room up the stairs, a massive bed with a long mahogany bedframe occupying the space front and center, lustrous teal blue sheets covering the pristine crisp white bed springs. The sofa and chairs was cluttered with clothes and other stuff and a tall sliding door situated right infront of the bed hidden by coffee-colored curtains with a bathroom attached to its left.

As he shut the door, leaving only the two of us in the confined space; breathing itself became a chore, my lungs caving in and heart thrumming with anticipation and pure desire. I was standing near his wooden drawer as he went in to the bathroom to get two towels. The stretch of the rubber band felt excruciatingly painful; the tension melting my soul every second. My thoughts started to jumble into one mess that craved for his touch on me, my mind wanting him to cross the distance and end my arduous yearning for a kiss from his lips or even, a graze from his hands. His stormy eyes and alluring body rounded on me as he ambled towards me, his walk having a sure purpose; two cotton towels on his hand. His presence cornered me, my back hitting the drawer. I can sense his body heat radiating off of him, the mix of his perfume and natural musk making me heady with want.

He gingerly gave me the towel, my hands sizzling with current as my hands lightly grazed his. We both looked into each other, square in the eye as we started to dry our bodies by ourselves. I threw the towel on my hair, feeling the dampness of my chlorinated hair transfer onto the soft towel and slowly rung my hair on the towelletel; my vision cut off by the piece of cotton blocking my eyes. When I felt sure that my hair was more-or-less semi dry, I took off the towel from my head and found Rafe heavily breathing down on me, his angled nose nearly plunging into my hair.

It felt like life rolled in slow motion as he threw the cloth away from my hands, and put his hands on the door behind me. Rafe’s voice purred in my ear as he said, “You look so pretty, Sofia. Fuck, I can’t stop looking at you all night,” he breathed into my hair as he spoke, “You even smell good, you know how hard it was for me to focus on other shit when all I think about was you in those little white bra and panties with the bow. It’s all I have been thinking about since yesterday with kissing you senseless, and fuck, I can’t even erase the memory of you in your uniform. ”

I looked upto him and saw that his eyes were feasting on my picked on lips, my breasts with his digits digging into the flesh of my hips. I was stupefied too; I couldn’t stop memorising every detail of him; the curve of his Adam’s apple, the defined planes of his face, the sharp ears, the matted blonde strands of his buzzcut, the small freckle under his left eye and those eyes.

Those cereaulean blue eyes glimmering like sapphire; I knew from that moment that they wouldn’t stop haunting me till I am dragged down to my casket.

I couldn’t even slip out a coherent sentence to his confession but my heart was on fire, but all I could muster was, “Rafe?”

“Hmm,” his voiced with laced with pain as he spoke to me.

I knew that this was the moment that my life was going to change forever.

I felt possessed as I said, “Can you kiss me, please, Rafe? I want to stop playing this game.”

The rubber band snapped and recoiled.

“Thought you would never ask, Miss Sofia”

Inches of space got reduced to nothing as he crashed his lips onto mine; his mouth lapping mine up with urgent fervor almost as he was worshipping me by pressing his lips on mine with undulated passion. The kiss felt earth shattering, the earth beneath me felt like it was going to break into pieces and take me away and Rafe’s lips and wandering hands were the only thing keeping me sane and tethered to reality. His lips swallowed my mouth, pouring all his fervor onto me, and my lips couldn’t get enough; chasing his lips like we’re both running from a disaster. The world went utterly still with only the sounds of our kiss, hands cradling each other hips and heads and mouths nearly gnawing each other with such intensity and devotion.

I never thought kissing someone would feel heavenly. Well, I wish I told that girl I was about to get my world rocked by Rafe Cameron.

Forever.

AN:

My brain and my fingers after typing this chapter:

FINALLY DUN DUN DUN! THEY KISSED. YK WHAT IT MEANS FOR NEXT CHAPTER, your girl is going to try writing mid ass smut...Pls dont stone me to death for this chapter, the next one and the futures ones too.

THE AMOUNT OF LOVE YOU GUYS GIVE ME IS AMAZINGGG. KISSES TO EACH SINGLE ONE OF YOU. MWAHHH. Any comments or likes or reblogs are absolutely appreciated.

The next update...I genuinely don't know when it's happening but I am always thinking about this story so hopefully within this month.

Hope you guys have a good new yearr...BYEEEE

Taglist:

@lostsyren @araybiaaa @cherubfille @didddii589 @popou61 @rafecameronsfavourite @rafesofiapalomo @me-ig1 @beautyinsteadofashes

#obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #sofia obx #rafe x sofia #drew starkey #fiona palomo #Spotify

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