#SORRY I JUST HAD A CONCEPT AND HAD TO BANG IT OUT

[authorddreamz]

Protector - Deshon Dreamz

Brewing....

Nowhere near finished...actually just a concept currently.

Smoke x Annie (Please don't expect anything else from me...I've tried and failed at Stack X Everybody and they momma. It won't flow. Also tried Sammie and Pearline and...nope. Everyone else...chile.)

Warning: cursing

She's wanted for practicing magic...

He's known for being the "bad guy" who owns a few businesses in town. No one bothers him. He's a loner, outside of his twin brother. He's a quiet storm. A inactive volcano. He's not to be tampered with.

One night she's running from folks trying to capture her ( the KKK)(it's lowkey modern though) and she runs right into his gun shop on the outside of town.

Preview:

Her thighs burned. She'd been squatting behind this diesel bed for what felt like hours. Her heart banged loud in her throat, overshadowing the elevated cadence of her pulse as it clouded her ears. The gravel beneath her feet pierced through her sandals, her body heavy with fear. The moon shifted in the sky, casting a darker cloud over the heated streets of Mississippi. Frantic breathes pushed through her lips as the sound of galloping grew closer to her. The feeling of being trapped engulfed her like a flame, relentless in its pursuit to destroy everything surrounding it. She closed her eyes, sending a silent prayer before moving her body backwards. A stray cat jumped from a car, starling her. A quick yelp escaped her before she covered her mouth, eyes extended as wide as the Nile. Heat sparked from the tailpipe of a nearby car, the engine revving into the night, disturbing the cool air.

Annie didn't know if her life would end tonight, it hadn't been in any of her visions or throws, but she couldn't stop the burst of terror settling in her gut.

More galloping, more shouting.

I saw her go that way!

She can't be far!

We must kill her tonight!

Her hope of making it back home was fading like color from a bleached t-shirt. The street was clear, outside of the men who were tracking her and the ambient light shining from a building nearby. She knew she was pushing it coming back into town so late, but the city had everything she needed for a protection spell she was brewing just for times like this. Her grandmother taught her root work, she also taught her how to fight, negotiate and shoot a gun, but she couldn't go up against four men with sticks, ropes, guns and misplaced rage. She knew she couldn't withstand them alone, there was no way she'd survive. So, she planned to hide as long as she could.

The sight of an open sign flickering off across the street caught her attention. Before she could think too much about it, she heard her grandmothers voice loud in her ear, a rushed whisper that turned frantic. "Go, Annie. Run as fast as you can."

She listened. Her feet pushed into the ground as she lifted, running as fast as her body would allow until she made it to the door. She could barely see through the fiberglass door, but she could make out a figure moving on the other side.

She knocked, her fist heavy with panic and uncertainty as she waited. After a beat, she knocked again- somehow harder this time.

The door was snatched open and suddenly Annie found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Her entire body felt slack as her hands shot into the nights air. "I'm sorry!" She whined, voice smaller than normal.

He lowered the gun- only slightly. Brown, untrusting eyes swung past her, then to the left and right. He took her in slowly, eyes scanning her from head to toe. A toothpick hung from his thick lips as he leaned to the side to get a better view of her, around his revolver. Silence hung in the air as Annie continued to hold her hands up.

Smoke took in the dirt decorating the bottom of her dress, the mud smudged into her beautiful brown skin and the cloth bag thrown across her body. She released hard, earned breathes as terror danced in the depths of her soft brown eyes. He wanted to lower his gun but he knew better. "Why you banging on the door this late?"

Annie swallowed. "Running."

Smoke brow arched. "From?"

The sound of horses neighing grabbed her attention. She urgently turned back to the cold man before her. "Please let me in."

Smoke craned his neck out the door, looking at the approaching horses ridden by men with pale skin carrying fire torches, wood planks and rope. "Get inside." He stepped outside the door, allowing the woman past him. "Go all the way to the back, up the stairs and into the apartment on the upper level. I'll let you know when it's clear."

Annie nodded before doing exactly what she was told.

Smoke tucked his gun into his jeans, grabbing a blunt from his ear to light it. He flicked the toothpick from his mouth, placing the blunt between his lips. Any other man would have fear dancing on their skin. Not him. He'd been in the Delta long enough to know that men like the ones approaching him on horseback existed. He'd went up against them, was familiar with their battle tactics. He was unreservedly unmoved. He reached behind him, pulling the door to his shop closed as the men on horses came to a stop before him. His frown remained as one man, who he assumed was the ringleader of this shit show, climbed off his horse.

He slowly released smoke from between his lips, his eyes trained on the ringleader. "Y'all boys far from the outskirts. A long way from home." Smoke's eyes shifted. "Looking for something?"

"A witch." The ringleader spat. "We don't want no trouble."

"Trouble is exactly what y'all gone get barking up this tree." Smoke's face didn't shift at all. "Best y'all get going before it's too late."

"You don't understand. She needs to be handled."

"Fuck that gotta do with me?" Smoke questioned.

"You telling me you ain't seen her?"

"I'm telling you I don't know who the fuck you talmbout. I'm also telling you to leave before shit get uglier than you round here."

The ringleader mugged Smoke for a while, weighing his options. The man before him had a reputation that proceeded him for miles. There wasn't a soul to in the Delta who didn't know the Smoke/Stack twins. They were a line you didn't cross. He stepped back. "Guess we'll be going then."

Smoke titled his head. "Get to gettin' then."

Without another word and a bruised ego, the man mounted his horse, turning to go in the opposite direction with his folks behind him. Smoke released a grunt as he pulled the door to his business open. He made sure to lock the door securely, pulling down the internal protective gate before locking it. He took the stairs to his loft two at a time. He found her sitting on his couch in the living room surrounded by warm hues and uncertainty. The air felt stiff, unmoving as he walked deeper into the living room. He caught the last of her mumbling, what he assumed was a prayer before she stood and turned to him. In this light, he could admire the softness of her features. Her skin was the color of Africa, deep and ritual. She was on the thicker side, thighs crafted by the ancestors of Mississippi herself. She was on the taller side, but he still had at least half a foot on her. Her lips were full and inviting. His eyes got stuck on them for too long.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't have anywhere else to go." Her voice quaked, remnants of fear making it shaky. "I'll leave."

Smoke took a pull from his blunt. "Ain't too sure the coast clear yet."

Annie's shoulders went slack in defeat. "As long as they going one way and I'm going the other."

Smoke eyed her. "How you to know which way is which?"

That question stumped Annie.

Smoke walked over to his bar, pulling out a stool. "They say you a witch."

Annie's nostrils flared. "You look smart enough to know better."

Smoke smirked. "Say they need to kill you."

"People fear what they can't control."

Smoke nodded, looking at her through the cloud of smoke that curled between them. "Now you done found yourself in the apartment of a mad man."

Annie shook her head, standing. "You ain't a mad man. You're my protector."

Smoke's spine stiffened as she walked over to him, "You got the wrong man, sweetheart."

Annie pulled a stool, sitting down beside him. "My grandmother guided me here. She'd never put me in harms way. She sent me here because she knew you would take care of me."

Smoke thought the woman was losing it. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"By keeping me here til morning and loving me for the rest of my life, which will end before yours. Not for a long while though, Elijah."

To be continued...

[dragonlordofmiddleearth]

Girl what did Arthur do in the legends

He got Morgana pregnant with baby Mordred

[the-witty-pen-name]

Video Girl

Modern AU

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Youtuber!F!Reader

Summary: Eddie stumbled across your YouTube channel when you posted a review about Corroded Coffin’s newest album. Now, he’s binged all your videos and your channel has become his “comfort channel” that he has on all the time while he’s feeling lonely on tour. When they’re invited to perform at a convention he wonders if he’ll finally get the chance to meet you.

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: pining; fluff; angst; cyber-bulling/mean comments directed towards reader; kissing; slowish burn; eddie absolutely down bad; substance use; cursing

A/N: he convention is essentially VidCon- I’ve never been to VidCon or any other type of convention before. I have no idea what I’m really talking about but this is like my best guess as an outsider as to how conventions like these may look? Sorry in advance. I really loved the idea of the reader being a content creator but I don’t know the details on how being a creator at a con would work haha I did my best. 

Eddie falls asleep every night to the sound of your voice. 

When the tour bus is driving overnight as they head to the next city, he rests his phone on the wall of his bunk, watching YouTube videos with the volume low as he tries to drift off. One of your videos had played as a recommendation automatically and he was too tired to turn off his phone. He laid on his stomach, too tired to move but still not fully asleep. 

“Hey everyone,” you smiled, offering a wave to your video's viewers. “I’m really excited for this video- it’s been literally requested non-stop since my last Corroded Coffin video-”

The mention of the band, makes his ears perk and he opens his eyes again- suddenly not as tired as he just was a second ago. You’re holding up a copy of the band’s newest vinyl and talking about how this video will be your live reaction to listening to it for the first time. 

Eddie usually doesn’t watch or pay attention to reviewers- he doesn’t really care for typical critics. However, he just ended up watching it. He smiles to himself as you excitedly tear the plastic to open your vinyl, and you show your viewers a tour of the record sleeve, the photos inside, everything visual. You beam excitedly at the included square posters and the book with the lyrics. You hold up one of the posters. 

“Literally the hottest guy I think I’ve ever seen,” You smile bashfully, the poster showing Eddie playing his guitar at one of their shows. Eddie can’t help but blush. “You guys already know, Eddie Munson is my celebrity crush- has been for like years… ever since the EP came out like what? 6 years ago? He’s gorgeous. Anyways…” You get back on topic, focusing on talking about the visuals and the album's concepts. You provide your own opinions and interpretations and Eddie can’t help but just really appreciate how much you appreciate all of the effort the band put into every aspect of the album. 

Eddie can’t help as his whole chest swells with pride with each of your reactions. You practically jump out of your seat with excitement at the riffs, the way you head bang to the drum solos, the way you pause and take your time to absorb lyrics. It’s so endearing. He’s smiling to himself as you go on excitedly. 

From that moment, he watched everything you posted. Your channel was a bit eclectic- album reviews, gaming, vlogs… he watched everything. Your vlogs were probably his favorite. When he’s in his bunk winding down, it kind of feels like being on FaceTime with a friend. He loves watching just the normalcy of your life compared to his. Sometimes, his heart aches for simplicity like that. He can picture himself there, sitting with you in your car after you went through the drive through, taking you to the bookstore, helping you cook. He wishes he could have something like that. 

“Holy shit guys,” you smile, you cover your face with your free hand while you hold your phone. Using his burner account, Eddie is watching your most recent TikTok that’s been reposted to your Instagram story. You show a paparazzi photo that’s been taken of Eddie recently, you zoom in and show that under his flannel and his jacket, he’s wearing your merch. “Eddie Fucking Munson is wearing my merch! My merch! Shit, this can’t be real. That’s my shirt!” 

Eddie recognizes where that photo was taken almost immediately. He’s walking out of the hotel they stayed in last weekend after their shows in Toronto. He and the other guys were leaving out the back entrance, thinking they’d be safe from view. Of course, there was a pap with a long lens. 

He’d been up all night, and he looked like it. His hair was even more unruly than usual, he was sporting dark under eyes, and he was wearing the clothes he went to bed in- old sweats and your shirt. He was embarrassed to have a photo of him like that circling around the internet. No matter how often it happens, he can never get used to it. It always sucks. 

But right now, you are so happy and it’s all Eddie can focus on. You’re smiling so wide, and he’s the reason for it. Your eyes are big with excitement and it’s like your joy is jumping off his phone screen directly into his chest. He couldn’t even care less about the picture now, or how he looks. It doesn’t matter. He’s just happy watching you be happy. All of his initial worries just melt away as you talk to the camera. 

“I can’t even wrap my head around that one- Eddie Munson knows I exist. And two, he’s watched my videos? Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I’m more excited or embarrassed,” you flush. Eddie chuckles. He likes the story and puts his phone down so he can focus. Later on, the same warm feelings bubble up again when he sees that you tweeted that since that photo began to circulate, you’ve gained thousands of new followers and that your tshirt completely sold out on your site. You tweet at him directly thanking him. He screenshots it. 

Eddie originally wasn’t thrilled about the band going to perform at a convention right in the middle of their break on the tour. A beautiful month of doing nothing now suddenly interrupted. However, when you post that you’re going- he doesn’t mind so much anymore. 

Apprehension clouds his mind once he starts to think about it too much. You’ll probably think he’s a freak- some creepy stalker if he ever admits to you how much he watches your content. Despite you saying many times that he’s your celebrity crush, he can’t imagine living up to any sort of idea of him that you have in your head. He’ll fall short, you’ll reject him, and he’ll never be able to live it down. It’ll break him. 

You’re a nervous wreck as you look over the schedule- your eyes narrowing on the line-up of live performances. How in the hell did the convention center manage to book Corroded Coffin? You haven’t been able to think about anything except Eddie Munson since your friend had sent you that photo. Your mind races with questions. You want to know how many videos he’s seen- has he seen the ones where you essentially make a fool of yourself talking about him? Does he even know who you are or is it someone else’s shirt? Is he a subscriber? You can’t even fathom that you exist in the timeline where one of the biggest stars on the rise in some capacity knew of your existence.You can’t even think straight. 

Fans are screaming outside the convention center as the band arrives in a large black SUV. Eddie’s palms are sweating, and he is more nervous than he thought he’d be. The anxious feeling he’s experiencing has nothing to do with the crowd, the cameras, the performance- it’s all because of you. Looking at the building they will shortly be escorted into, all he can think about is how you’re here- after the months of pining from behind the security of his phone, he’s going to be at the same place as you. He can’t let the opportunity to meet you pass him by. 

Jeff and Gareth shove him to pay attention when he doesn’t look up from his phone when the car finally stops. They exchange a knowing look that Eddie deos his best to ignore. He got wrapped up in photos of you- watching your story as you post selfies with your friends as you’re walking around the convention center. Your smile is infectious to him. He resolved a while ago it was the prettiest he’s ever seen, coming to terms with the fact that he's helplessly smitten. He tucks  his phone securely into the pocket of his jeans, and follows quickly behind his bandmates as they are ushered into the building safely. 

“Corroded Coffin just got here,” your friend squeals, as she shows you a livestream someone is taking from outside. You watch Eddie on the screen as he quickly walks into the building. He’s wearing the goddamn shirt again. Your face feels overwhelmingly hot as this begins to feel all too real. He waves to fans with a goofy, wide smile- sticking out his tongue and throwing up the devil’s horns with one of his hands. You watch his laughter and it makes your heart ache. 

He looks good. You’d think he’d look silly with the pink shirt but he looks so undeniably hot. He’s wearing black ripped jeans, heavy boots, and your baby pink shirt with the sleeves cuffed accentuating his tattoos. Your channel’s name is splayed across the expanse of his chest and you swear you short circuit. It’s only then that you fully allow yourself to admit that Eddie Munson not only knows that you exist- and he’s a fan. 

Your friends chatter excitedly, freaking out about the situation- because duh. Who wouldn’t be? You can’t even think because your heart is beating so incredibly loud and fast, and adrenaline is making your head throb. It’s a sensory overload, and you feel like you can’t wrap your head around it. You physically shake your head to try to subside the feeling. You needed to be on- you had to finish setting up your booth, be ready to meet people who subscribed to you. You couldn’t let yourself get bogged down by this, at least not yet. 

You hurried to get your table ready- tablecloth with your logo displayed on the front, merch folded into neat piles, your business cards in a small tray. Your channel name was displayed on a banner behind you that you had made to match. Your friends helped you set up the portable POS system as you set up a rack that you filled with your stickers. You didn’t really care if people bought anything, you were just excited to meet the people you’ve interacted with online since you started your channel. 

Understandably, a lot of people who approached your table immediately started asking you about Eddie. It was a lot of the same questions over and over but you didn’t mind that so much. They all had asked the same things you had been asking yourself- and you wanted to know the answers as badly as they seemed to. 

“No, no. I haven’t met him.”

“No, I didn’t know he watched my videos.”

“Yeah, it’s really crazy.”

“No, I didn’t send PR.”

“Yeah, no. I didn’t pay him to wear it.” 

Eddie anxiously shook his leg, trying to figure out if he could sneak away. Unfortunately, most instances- it feels like his time isn’t his own. He wishes he could just walk around with Jeff and Gareth, but there’s no way to safely do that. Everything needs to be planned out, timed out and they always need security. He doesn’t want to complain- it’s that everything needs to be a thing. He can’t just go up and talk to a girl. He needs to tell his security, who also needs to coordinate with the building security. It needs to be added to the timeline of the day. Before he knows it, there’s like fifteen moving pieces that need to be put in place so he can walk up to you. 

He knows it’s easier to just ask for you to be brought to him. He feels like that’s cheating. He’s the fan- he’s the one wanting the experience of meeting you. It makes him feel icky- sending buff intimidating security guys to ask you to follow them blindly- taking you away from the fun and people just so he can say hello? Makes him feel like he’d look like a douchebag. He understands it needs to be you in your world- he doesn’t want you to be the one who feels out of place. But then on the other hand, he’s drawing all this attention towards him and inadvertently to you if he does this. He worries about the scene he’s inevitably going to cause and he hopes you don’t resent him for it. 

It’s towards the end of day one. Most attendees are making their way over to the auditorium for some of the other live performances. Since Eddie figured most people would be heading to that while the vendors were getting ready to partially break down their booths, it might be the perfect time to walk around. It ended up working out more perfectly than Eddie would have hoped. 

Jeff and Gareth wanted to check out the other acts that were performing, so they went to go watch the concert. Eddie was able to walk around the near empty convention halls with his head of security following a couple of steps behind. He can see you in the distance. He feels warmth bubble up as he just observes your actions briefly from a short distance.

You’re packing up your merchandise and putting them into boxes, tucking them under your table to keep it out of the way until tomorrow. Three teenage girls cautiously approach you and you immediately stop everything to offer each of them a hug. You smile and chat with them- taking your time to ask them questions and thank them for talking to you. You ask them if you can take a picture with them and they nod enthusiastically. You wrap your arms around them like you’ve known them forever as your friend offers to take the picture. You hug them all again, sincerely thanking them for coming over to talk to you. 

Without needing him to ask, his security lets him approach you on his own. He stands far enough back that Eddie can feel independent but still close enough he can jump in if he needs to interfere. Eddie’s been racking his brain all day for the best thing to say to you when he finally gets to meet you. Of course, he has nothing. He’s so nervous and he’s praying to God that you won’t be able to tell. 

“Hey,” he says shyly as he approaches. He walks with his hands stuffed in his back pockets. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, though you guess you shouldn’t be that surprised. You try your best to play it cool, but you're not sure you’re pulling it off well at all. 

“Nice shirt,” you comment, with a smile. 

“I’m Eddie,” he introduces himself. He’s so shy, not at all like how you'd expect him to be. You can’t help but find it endearing. You introduce yourself too. 

“I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that I love you videos,” he compliments bashfully. “I think I’ve seen them all- I’m a big fan.” 

“Thank you- um, same. I mean, I’m a big fan of yours too. Not of myself, obviously,” you ramble, “Your music! Not videos, but yes- I also love your music videos…” 

“Thanks,” he replies, and you’re relieved to be cut off before you embarrass yourself further. “Listen, um, I wanted to ask- could we get a picture together?”

You straighten your posture and nod enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah- of course,” you reply. You go to smooth out your hair, and tug at the hem of your shirt. 

“You look great,” he insists and you feel flush at his compliments. You feel giddy, as he casually wraps his arm around your shoulders. He holds up his phone, making sure you're both in frame. You both smile and he snaps a picture of the two of you. 

“Do- do you mind sending it to me?” You ask. 

“Here,” he offers his phone to you, “Do you want to just send it to yourself?” You’re stunned. He’s trusting you with his phone? You text the selfie to yourself, and hand it back. 

“Thanks,” you smile. 

“Are you going to the concert?” He asks, “I was going to meet Jeff and Gareth… do you want to come with me?”

“My friends are waiting for me..,” you say, and you’re a little disappointed to have to say no to him. “We’re supposed to meet up there actually.” 

“Well, you can just have them meet us at the box if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He hears his security sigh but he couldn’t care less. 

“If that won’t be too much trouble,” you insist. He shrugs it off. 

“Nah, don’t even worry about it,” he’s doing his best to be nonchalant. “What do you think?” He asks hopefully. 

“Yeah! I’ll text them, they’ll freak out,” you smile. You lean over to the security guy. “In like a normal way, they are harmless. The worst thing they’ll be is maybe loud. I swear.” 

The man offers a closed lip smile and nods. 

*** 

“It was just hanging out,” Eddie argues exhausted. He slumped in his seat and crossed his arms. The band’s publicist scoffs, pushing her phone across the table. 

“No, it’s not,” she chastises, “first, you wear the shirt. The pink tshirt was great- did wonderful; the public really liked it. But, then you wear this shirt again at a public event where it was confirmed this person would be in attendance. Then, you’re photographed with this girl and you didn’t think there’d be speculation? You’ve essentially confirmed a relationship.” 

“Wearing a fucking tshirt and posting a selfie confirms a relationship?” He retorts. 

“Not in normal circumstances, but you already know that there’s never normal circumstances.” 

“We’re not together.” 

“Eddie, this isn’t about lecturing you. Stop acting like a spoiled little kid. This isn’t about you- this is about everything you’ve built and accomplished; your band mates and their careers. It’s about all the people you employ. You can sit here and act like your actions don’t have consequences- and this isn’t about whether or not she’s a good person, or if you are or aren’t dating- it’s about thinking about the impact you have and why it’s so important to think about and plan these things.” 

“Literally no one would have anything to worry about. Her reputation is spotless, she does charity fundraisers, she makes YouTube videos about Stardew Valley for Christsake.”

“This time? Sure, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been reckless Eddie. You can’t deny you’ve done worse- this is just the newest thing.” 

“Jesus…”

“It’s better for optics when the three of you appear single.” 

“What the hell? We aren’t even dating! We hung out once.” 

“Eddie…”

“You’re telling me that people lose their jobs and no one buys our albums if I go out on a date?” 

“It’s gradual Eddie..  have you even given any thought on how this is going to affect her? The microscope you put her under? The swarm of crazed fans, angry and jealous and spiteful that it’s not them… you’ve sent the poor girl out to slaughter.” 

He recoils, shrinking further into the chair. Had it been that selfish and thoughtless? He didn’t imagine anything this upsetting could happen. He does feel like shit now- he didn’t think about how this attention would affect you. Maybe he had been blinded by his own infatuation. It’s not fair to you. He wanted to see you again, but maybe now he thinks he shouldn’t. You were so sweet, he thinks back on that day. He couldn’t imagine anyone hating you, or wanting to inflict that kind of pain his publicist is talking about. 

He looks at the pictures she’s trying to show him. The both of you chatting near her table- obviously taken from a distance and zoomed in. He’s blushing looking at you- of course he was. You’re both smiling, looking at each other and not paying attention to anything else. Then, photos taken of the concert. Sitting next to each other, legs brushed up against each other as you chat- completely ignoring the show. He’s leaning in close so he can hear you speak. Then, you’re standing next to each other, cheering and clapping for the performance. Well, more so that you’re applauding the artist, and Eddie is standing next to you- looking at you like a lovesick idiot. It’s painfully obvious that he’s into you. Now, he’s more worried if you picked up on that than anything else. And if he wasn’t anymore obvious in his body language, just to really drive the point home- he was wearing the pink t-shirt on top of everything else. 

“This is just the one post ET made about it,” she says, opening the comment section for him. “Look at the comments- this was posted an hour ago.” 

He can do much better kind of sad actually 

Mid 

She is so annoying

They both make me sick 

She’s not even that pretty 

Who even is she gross 

Why is she even there

It's obvious she’s just using him to grow her channel 

Eddie blink twice if you need help

Clout chaser 

Hundreds of comments like that kept pouring in. Of course, for every negative comment there were hundreds of positive- but Eddie couldn’t help but focus on the hateful things people were saying about you. He wanted to reply to every one of them and defend you. Who were these faceless, nameless assholes with nothing better to do? 

***

You had posted a vlog about your experience at the convention- completely leaving Eddie or anything Corroded Coffin out. You shared videos of you meeting subscribers, and you meeting your favorite creators. You shared fun videos of your friends and you trying the convention center food. However, as you should’ve expected, all of the comments were about Eddie. On your little corner of the internet, your following was overwhelmingly positive and supportive. Occasionally, you saw a comment that was obviously left by someone who sought out your channel after the pictures were posted- but otherwise, you were fine. 

You figured you’d be better off not to go looking for the negativity because you knew for sure you’d find it. Blocking and deleting is very easy to do, you decided a long time ago when you started your channel. You’re used to the occasional hate comment, and you haven’t checked your social media notifications on other platforms in so long. You were impressing yourself with how you’d handled the situation honestly. You figured you’d just stay offline for a few days and everything would mellow and go back to normal. You grossly underestimated the persistent attention that would soon hit you. 

When you tried to live stream for your most recent let’s play, you ended up deciding to end the stream way earlier than you usually would. You anticipated people joining to ask about Eddie or ask about the photos, but you underestimated the influx of viewers you’d receive. Your moderators weren’t able to keep up and the stream was completely overrun with spam comments and hate. You usually stream for a few hours but this happened about a half an hour into your live, and you decided to shut it down. You needed to regroup. You were startled- it was unexpected to say the least. You weren’t sure where to go from here. Almost immediately after you ended the live stream, you got a text. 

You okay?

Eddie had been watching? 

Yeah, I’m okay. That was just a lot. I didn’t know what to do. 

I’m sorry. It’s my fault. 

Nothing is your fault. You don’t need to apologize. I appreciate you checking in.

Of course sweetheart 

Sweetheart? You could squeal- just collapse on your bed and kick your feet. You wanted to just scream into your pillow. It was like that one text canceled out all the bullshit you just had to deal with. Thousands of people can comment that they hate you all day long, but you are the one he’s texting. You're the one he just called sweetheart. 

While you’re trying to decide how to respond, your phone begins to vibrate. He’s calling you. Your heart leaps and your stomach excitedly ties itself in knots. You hadn’t spoken to him since a couple of weeks ago at the convention. You gathered the courage to answer right before the call would get sent to voicemail. 

“Hey,” you answer, trying to sound casual. 

“Hey,” he replies. 

Eddie’s on the tour bus- he’s in another time zone that’s a few hours ahead of yours. He can hear Jeff snoring in the bunk under his and he’s sure Gareth must also be asleep. He pulled the draw curtain to muffle his talking, but he still wants to keep his voice down. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked. “How are you holding up?” He winces. He hates that this is a thing. He resents that something like this would happen to you and he feels incredibly guilty. He did this to you, and you never asked for it. 

“I’m good- really,” you insist. “I’m just logging off. I think I just want to deal with it all tomorrow.” 

“I wanted to call you way sooner than this,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck nervously before he starts to lay down. “I’m sorry I didn’t- I really wanted to, but I don’t know- I sort of convinced myself you’d want nothing to do with me after all of this press and attention.”

“I do feel like I’m under a microscope a little bit,” you giggle, “But that has nothing to do with you. I was hoping you’d call. I’m glad you did.” 

“Our publicist isn’t too happy with me,” he explains. “Nothing to do with you-” he quickly makes sure to explain, “She just likes to plan out everything and she gets mad when I go rogue.” 

“So it was a publicity stunt?” You gasp, faking shock. “I’m kidding,” you reassure him and you smile when you hear him laugh. 

“Trust me, it was the complete opposite,” he reiterates. “Listen,” he takes a deep breath, “I really want to see you again.”

“I’d really like that.”

“Good,” he replies, and he punches the air victoriously for no one but himself. “What are you doing next weekend?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say teasingly, “but aren’t you playing like back to back shows in Indianapolis?” 

“Fly out and meet me,” he proposes, “Come to a show and we can hang out after. We’re playing Thursday, Friday, Saturday- come to the Saturday show. Bring your friends if you want- there’s probably going to be an afterparty of some sort. Be my date. If you still can tolerate me after that, we can hang out on Sunday and do the whole like real date thing- I know this great breakfast place…” 

You bite your lip, of course you want to say yes. What girl wouldn’t? The guy whose poster is literally on your wall is calling you and wanting to whisk you away for a weekend. 

“Are you okay being seen with me?” you ask hesitantly, “Are we adding fuel to the fire, if we do this?”

“I guess so,” Eddie sighs, “but to be entirely honest- I don’t give a shit at all what people are going to say. I just care about you- I want to get to know you and see where this goes. That’s all that matters.” 

“I’ve liked you for a really long time,” he goes on to confess, “Listen, I’ve had like a really stupidly big embarrassing crush on you since like the first time I saw one of your videos. I don’t need any convincing- I know I want this. But like weird parasocial, celebrity crush feelings aside, I started to like you even more after I met you. To me, seeing if this goes anywhere is worth it. I don’t mind putting up with the attention if I get to spend more time with you.” 

“But,” he continues, “I know it’s asking a lot of you- and I know this isn’t easy. And you have to deal with so much added pressure. I fully signed up for the paparazzi and the crazy fans, it comes with doing what I love. I signed on that dotted line a while ago. I gave up my privacy and my anonymity, you know? You don’t have to be a part of that- it’s too much of me to ask of anyone.” 

“Can I think about it?” You ask and you bite your lip.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he reassures you, and you're so happy to hear he doesn’t sound upset or disappointed. You can tell he’s being genuine at putting your comfort first. “Here’s what I’m gonna do, text me your email if you’re okay with that- I’ll send you the plane tickets.”

“I can-”

“Nope. It’s my insane idea for a first date- I’m asking you out, so I pay,” he insists. “Look, if you decide not to use them, I’ll make sure it’s taken care of. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything. Please don’t feel like you have to use them, I know this is a big ask. It’s ridiculous. But I think you’re worth it.”

“I will think about it,” you say sincerely, “I don’t want to rush into anything. I just need a bit of time.”

“You can have all the time you need, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere until you say the word.” 

***

Eddie has resolved that you aren’t coming to the show tonight. He hasn’t heard from you since that phone call, and he’s realized he probably scared you away. He knows he can be dramatic, and he falls into things too quickly, and he’s convinced he’s ruined his chances with you. He’s heartbroken. 

But the show must go on. 

Despite feeling completely devastated, he still gives the show his all. No one would tell he was going through something to look at him. He was giving all his energy, giving the crowd back exactly what they were giving him. He could do it. 

You kept telling yourself over and over again to just play it cool. You tried not to lose it in the back of the Uber in bumper to bumper traffic. You watched the numbers crawl by minute by minute on your phone, knowing which song in the setlist you were missing next. You worried when the venue security questioned the legitimacy of your passes, questioning you until you felt dizzy. You finally made it as the band was finishing up one of your favorites. So relieved you made it before the end, you couldn’t find it in you to care that you missed it. You hung back, and followed the instructions of the tech crew carefully so you wouldn’t be in the way. You let yourself take a deep breath. You made it. 

“Miss, do you mind waiting in the dressing room after this song?” Someone asked you, “The show’s finale has some flames and other large visual effects. It’s a liability to have you back here.” 

Understanding, you nod and you promise to make your way there. As the song finished up, another crew member found you and brought you to a security guard, who then escorted you to a room with “TALENT” marked in bold on the door- a piece of plain paper with CORRODED COFFIN taped underneath. He held the door open for you and you thanked him, walking inside. 

You felt very out of place, amongst Eddie, Gareth and Jeff’s things without them there. You were apprehensive and took a few minutes to find a space where you felt comfortable. Obviously, they weren’t expecting anyone. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, stage makeup still left open and messy on the rooms vanity, their duffel bags thrown messily on the floor. It felt like a piece of their world you weren’t supposed to see. A TV mounted to the wall was playing the show, so you took a seat on the uncomfortable couch and watched the rest of the concert. 

You tried to practice how you’d be sitting when Eddie walked in. You didn’t want to be slouched but you also didn’t want to look too forced. You opted to just sit with your legs crossed- casual but not too casual that you felt frumpy. 

For their final exit, the band was lowered under the stage. Crawling out from underneath the mechanics, Eddie hoped maybe he’d see you there waiting for him. His face fell after the high of being on stage when he realized he got his hopes up again. Jeff patted him on the back, not needing to even ask to know why Eddie was clearly upset. 

“Come on,” Gareth said encouragingly, passing him a bottle of water. Eddie nods his head as a thank you, and the three of them begin to make their way back to the dressing room, thanking staff for helping as they see them.

When Jeff is the first one in the door, he offers you a wide, knowing smile. You move to stand up and say hello when Eddie sees you. 

“You’re here,” he marvels.

“I’m sorry I was late,” you apologize, “I was stuck in the traffic outside forever and then when I got here they asked me to wait here-” 

Eddie strides over and envelops you into a crushing hug. You were tense but your body immediately relaxed. You hug him back, not caring about how sweaty he is from just being on stage. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” he mumbles into your hair before pulling away. 

“Me too,” you agree.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” he whispers, afraid the guys would hear and make fun of him for sounding so desperate. 

“Me either,” you giggle. It makes him smile again. His grin expands from ear to ear and all of a sudden, every little sadness he felt all night just evaporated. 

“We’re going to the wrap party,” Jeff interjects, pushing Gareth out the door with him. “We’ll see you guys over there.” 

“Wrap party?” You ask, intrigued. 

“Yeah, like the crew and everyone at this like after party thing,” he explains. “Should be kinda cool if you want to check it out.” 

“I’d like that.”

*** 

The music is blaring; the bass pulsing throughout your entire body and it makes your ears feel like they’d pop. Hundreds of people were crammed up against one another, and the smoke from a variety of substances wafted throughout the bar. Eddie held your hand, helping guide you through the hoards of people. He offered a head nod to people as you both passed- no one would hear him talk anyways. 

You travel up a few mezzanine levels until you’re both further away from the chaos. You can look down and see the crowded dance floor, but you are much more content with this calmer atmosphere. Leather couches and coffee tables adorn this floor of the club. Another bar is situated in the corner, with a line much, much shorter than the ones downstairs. You start to realize this is some sort of private area or VIP lounge of some kind. You see security positioned in all corners as the guard which led you and Eddie here takes his new position against the wall near the bar. 

“This is pretty much all crew, producers, management people, friends,” Eddie explains, “Just people who are close to us, you know?”

You spot Jeff and Gareth on one of the couches, in the midst of a heated discussion with another person you don’t recognize. Gareth almost spills his drink as he’s frantically using his hands to make a point, while Jeff is sitting with his back to him- talking to a girl who is seated on the arm of the couch. 

“MUNSON!” A voice booms over the chatter. Eddie looks to the direction of the voice. You watch his eyes light up, unapologetically happy. He drops your hand and you see him bolt to the person. 

“Harrington, you motherfucker!” Eddie exclaims, pulling the other guy into a big hug. “Shit,” he pulls away quickly, and returns back to you. With his hand on your back, he gently guides you over to the spot of the reunion. “Steve Harrington,” he introduces. Steve shakes your hand as you introduce yourself, and he smirks as he glances between you and Eddie. 

Eventually, Eddie introduces you to all of his hometown friends. They all attended the show- drove up from Eddie’s hometown to surprise him. Despite catching up with old friends, Eddie was so attentive to make sure you still felt included. He went out of his way to make sure you were introduced to everyone, and he bragged on your behalf about the success of your channel to everyone. He also made sure to fill you in if you got lost in the conversations. He’d explain the context of the inside jokes, tell you the bigger story that an anecdote was from… everything to pull you into his world, his real world. 

“We should get out of here and go to The Hideout,” Gareth said, “For old times sake.”

“I’m not abandoning top shelf shit for the skunky beer at The Hideout,” Steve scrunched his nose in disgust. 

“What’s The Hideout?” you ask Eddie as the group debates the next move. 

“A really, really, really shitty bar back home,” he whispers close to your ear. “It was where we used to play when we were just starting. It was actually awful,” he chuckles, reminiscing. “We’d play to practically no one on Tuesday nights at like 11pm.”

“You had the time of your life didn’t you?” you smile, knowingly. He nodded.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking awesome,” he admits.

“Fine, not tonight,” Gareth concedes finally, “but we gotta get back there at some point.” 

“So,” Nancy says, changing the subject and turning to you. “Eddie didn’t tell us he had a girlfriend. We all had to find out on TMZ like the rest of the world. When did you guys meet?”

“Oh, um,” you begin, but Eddie places his arm around your shoulders. 

“This is our first date, actually,” he interjects, confidently. “So none of you assholes can say anything to make me look bad. I’m trying to impress her.” 

You bite your lip to hold back a smile. 

“So the whole t-shirt thing?” Nancy asks, directing her question to Eddie.

“My way of just trying to get her attention I guess,” he admits with a shrug, “Not that first picture though- I looked terrible. The second time though? Yeah, that was totally on purpose.”

Your face felt like it was on fire- you were overwhelmed with the way Eddie was so nonchalant. He was so honest, unabashedly so, with the way he spoke about his interest in you. You’d never experienced that type of attention, you didn’t know how to handle it. You don’t know how to play this game when he’s just put all his cards out on the table. There’s no guessing, no implications, no mind games- he just likes you. For the first time, in the craziest of circumstances, something you always found complicated is finally simple. 

He liked you. He pursued you. He got you. 

The drinks and the conversation continue to flow with ease. Eddie enjoyed sitting back and watching you fit in with his life. He loves the way it’s all just making sense. It’s like you’ve known his friends for years. You fit perfectly amongst them, and he just can’t help himself as he just admires you. He’s finding it so hard to play it cool, but he just wants to skip ahead to where this is routine. He wants you here, learning this side of him- engrossing yourself into his world. It just clicks and to him, it just all makes sense. 

When Jeff Gareth and him are inevitably pulled away to greet and talk with other people, he can’t help but keep checking back on you. He didn’t want to abandon you. He didn’t want to engage with anyone else here outside of the little circle he reluctantly had to leave. He should be paying attention to the names of these suits he’s meeting, but his mind is too preoccupied. He wants to just rush back to you, and intercept any embarrassing things he knows his friends are telling you. 

“I think you and Eddie seem really great together,” Steve discloses to you when the rest of the group is caught up in their own conversations. “He wears his heart on his sleeve,” Steve explains, “He’s not like how the tabloids and the news make him out to be. He’s always been misunderstood. I just uh- wanted to let you know that. He doesn’t do this, ever.”

Steve goes on to explain, “He’ll kill me for telling you this. But I haven’t heard Eddie talk about a girl since the whole band thing took off. You’d think he’d be like running wild and like getting all these girls- hell, that would be me. He’s very selective on who he invites in; he wouldn’t be doing all of this if he didn’t want this to go somewhere like for you two.” 

“I can tell he really likes you,” Steve continues, “I just wanted to make sure you know how good of a guy he is. In case you know, like, you had any doubts or anything. He’s not like that kind of guy. He’s probably the most sincere, loyal person ever- I just, you know, wanted to hype him up to you a little bit and vouch for him. And also just to ask you, to please not break his heart- don’t make him have false hope if you aren’t serious.”

You nod, understanding where Steve is coming from. 

“Back,” Eddie announces, jumping over the back of the couch to settle himself between you and Steve. “That was so fucking boring,” he jokes, wrapping his arm around you comfortably. “Best thing at this party is right here,” he gestures around the circle of his friends with the stem of his beer bottle, starting with Steve and working the neck around to you. He offers an incredibly cheesy grin and you laugh at his antics. You rest your head on his shoulder as he settles back into the group conversation, and you both miss how Steve smiles watching the two of you. 

***

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, Jeff and Gareth sit quietly on their phones in the middle row of the large car while you're cuddled into Eddie’s side in the far back row. Eddie doesn’t dare move, too terrified that he’ll wake you up. Your head rests on his shoulder and your body is flush to his. He silently curses every pot hole and sharp turn begging that you stay like this for as long as possible. 

Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be anyone waiting outside for them. The driver pulls around to the back door- the plan is to sneak you all in through the kitchen. The band’s body guard opens the car door. Gareth and Jeff climb out and scurry into the building quickly. Eddie softly nudges you awake. 

“Keep your hood up, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs as you pull your jacket tighter around you. You put your hood on your head and pull it down to cover your face- just in case. Eddie helps you out of the car- also with his hood on. “Head down, okay?” he whispers, and he guides you as you walk with your head down. 

You scurry through the kitchen and you use the elevator towards the back of the building to travel to the higher floors. 

Eddie arranged for one of the assistants to bring your bags here while you were out. He set you up in the room across the hall from him. He wanted to make sure you had your own space. When you get to the rooms, Gareth and Jeff disappear to their own rooms, offering very tired “goodnights.” Eddie walks you to your door.

“I had so much fun tonight,” you sleepily admit. “Thank you… thank you for trusting me.”

His eyes soften. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep,” he smiles, affectionately grazing your jaw with his thumb. You lean up and his heart skips when he watches your eyes linger- looking between his eyes and his lips. You press your lips to his and this delicate kiss feels like enough to make his entire body melt. 

It’s soft and perfect. A first kiss that you only see in the movies. Kissing you made Eddie feel like he’d never kissed anyone before. Nothing that came before amounted nearly as much as this. He feels like he’s in high school again all of a sudden. This, he decides, should have been his first kiss. Because none of them ever felt as good as this. He makes up his mind then and there, that you’re the only person he wants to kiss for the rest of his life. It’s a thought he won’t share until much further down the road.

[hoshifighting]

ok... so i've seen your amazing college fling works for seungcheol, jeonghan, and joshua.... but what about one for hoshi 👉👈

ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!! ❤���❤️❤️

WARNINGS: freshmen!hoshi, late night practices, burn-out, shyness, sunbae!reader, fluff, a lil bit of angst.

WC: 2.8k of this... judge me 🗣needed to divide this into parts...

part 1 / part 2

college fling!hoshi that you clocked that he was a freshman by the very moment he stepped into the dance practice room. it started with the smell, honestly. freshman reek—like nervous sweat and too much axe body spray, paired with the faintest whiff of fear. baggy-ass hoodie that practically swallowed his arms, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they’d get fined if they came out, sneakers so new they squeaked against the gym floor. he looked young. not in a bad way, just in that “i’m not used to being left unsupervised” way.

he stood in the doorway like he didn’t know what to do with himself. everyone else was stretching, pulling their limbs into shapes human joints probably weren’t meant for, and there he was, swaying on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting to ask if they could borrow a crayon.

“you lost?” you called out, not even looking up from where you were sitting, tying your shoelaces.

“huh? n-no, i’m, uh—this is intro to hip-hop?”

the way he said it like a question had you biting back a grin. “yeah, you’re in the right place. c’mon in before the instructor roasts your ass for lurking.”

he shuffled in, taking a spot in the back corner like he was hoping no one would notice him. “i'm invisible if i stand still enough”, he thinks. but of course, everyone noticed him. new kid energy was impossible to ignore, and to top it off, he had that awkwardly cute thing going on. messy bangs falling into his eyes, face pink like he was one awkward comment away from combusting. his eyes, wide and curious, darting around like he was mentally cataloging every single thing in the room.

“you got a name, freshman?” you asked, leaning back on your hands as you watched him.

he blinked, like he didn’t realize you were still talking to him. “oh, uh, hoshi. i mean, soonyoung. but people call me hoshi.”

“cool. you dance before, hoshi?”

“alright, new guy!” the prof clapped his hands, dragging everyone’s attention. “show us a little freestyle! don't be shy...”

college fling!hoshi who freezes mid-blink, still thinking about your question. clutching his backpack straps so hard you thought they might snap. he turned to you, wide-eyed and panicked, like you could save him from the impending doom.

“relax,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “you do this and sunbae’s buying you dinner. whatever you want. ramen, fried chicken, you name it.”

he blinked, like the concept of being spoiled by you was enough to short-circuit his brain, but there was something there. a spark. like maybe he didn’t wanna flop in front of you.

“okay,” he mumbled, and you gave him a grin that could probably power a small city.

“attaboy,” you said, patting his shoulder as you turned back to the class.

by the end of the first class, he’d loosened up a bit—mostly because the instructor made everyone run through improv drills, and there was no room for shyness when you were flailing around to some experimental old-school rap track. you caught him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

college fling!hoshi who finally zipped up his backpack after what felt like an eternity, stood up, and immediately knocked over a water bottle with his foot. he muttered a quick, shy “sorry,” barely glancing at the offended plastic, and shuffled toward you. his shoulders were stiff, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were the only things tethering him to this earth. you gave him a once-over, your phone in one hand, and a smirk playing at your lips. “you survived,” you said casually, and his grin was so tiny you almost missed it.

college fling!hoshi who started walking alongside you, a little too close like he didn’t know how to pace himself yet. every few steps, his elbow brushed yours, and he’d shift just enough to make it obvious he noticed. you didn’t say anything—just side-eyed him with a teasing smile that had his ears turning red.

college fling!hoshi who paused outside the building with you, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve as he asked, “so, uh… what do you like to eat?” his voice was barely louder than the passing breeze. you raised an eyebrow at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “you’re really gonna let me pick, huh?” he nodded, determined, even as he shuffled his feet. “you said you’d spoil me,” he countered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sass in his tone. you liked it.

college fling!hoshi who almost tripped on his untied shoelace when you said you’d pick a place, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he bent down to fix it. he was mumbling something about bad luck when you crouched beside him, yanking the lace from his hands and tying it with a quick knot. “you’re gonna kill yourself before dinner at this rate,” you said, and the way he stared at you—wide-eyed, lips parted—made it feel like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.

college fling!hoshi who sat across from you at the tiny chicken shop, looking at the menu like it was a math test. “it’s just chicken, dude,” you teased, propping your chin in your hand. he fumbled with the laminated page, finally blurting, “but what if I pick something too spicy?” you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, rookie, let me help you out.” you ended up ordering for both of you, and when the dish came, his eyes lit up.

college fling!hoshi who distractly puts too much sauce on his chicken wing and doesn’t notice because he was too busy grinning at your stories. “wait, wait—so you fell during a performance?” he asked, the sauce at the corner of his mouth. you groaned, throwing a napkin at him. “it wasn’t just a fall, okay? it was a crash,” you admitted, and his laugh was so loud the couple at the next table glanced over. “stop making fun of me or I’ll make you pay,” you threatened, and his face instantly sobered. “wait, what?”

college fling!hoshi who insisted on paying despite your earlier threats. he pulled out his wallet like it was some grand declaration of independence, only to hesitate when he realized he didn’t have enough cash. “um…” he started, cheeks burning. you rolled your eyes and handed your card to the cashier before he could protest. “rookie rule number one,” you said smugly, “always check your wallet before acting like a big shot.” he muttered something about repaying you, and you just laughed, nudging him toward the door.

college fling!hoshi who got lost again on the way back to his dorm, despite the fact that he’d been living there for a week. “are you serious right now?” you asked, watching him squint at the campus map on his phone. he scratched the back of his head, mumbling, “it all kinda looks the same at night.” sighing, you grabbed his phone, pulled up the map yourself, and started walking. “come on, hoshi-ya you’re hopeless.”

college fling!hoshi who walked beside you, hands in his pockets, quietly humming a tune you didn’t recognize. “what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. his eyes widened like he’d been caught. “oh, uh, just something I made up,” he admittedquietly. you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with a grin. “wait, you write music?” he shrugged, suddenly bashful. “a little… it’s not a big deal.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “nah, that’s cool as hell. show me sometime?”

college fling!hoshi who hesitated outside his dorm door, hand hovering over the handle. “thanks for… you know, today,” he said, glancing at you shyly. “and dinner.” you smirked, crossing your arms. “you earned it, rookie. but next time, you’re paying.” his smile stretched wide, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he didn’t want to go in. finally, he nodded, fumbling with the key. “goodnight, sunbae,” he said softly, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you turned to leave.

college fling!hoshi who always trails behind you, holding onto the strap of your backpack like a lost puppy. “you’re gonna rip it, you know,” you tell him, but he just grins and tightens his grip. “you’re my sunbae. gotta make sure I don’t lose you.” it’s so dumb and cheesy that you flick his forehead, but your chest feels warmer anyway.

college fling!hoshi who managed to charm his way into your friend group like he’d been there all along. one of your music department friends spotted him loitering outside your lecture hall and asked, “is that the guy you’ve been dragging around campus?” you rolled your eyes, but hoshi smiled like he’d just won an award. “that’s me!” he said proudly, and somehow by the end of the conversation, they were swapping playlist recommendations.

college fling!hoshi who shows up at your dorm one night with a bruised knee and a sheepish smile. “i tripped during practice,” he admits, wincing as you drag him inside. “tripped or collapsed?” you demand, pointing at the ice pack in his hands. he shrugs, trying to play it off, but you’re already crouched in front of him, scolding him as you press the ice to his knee. “you should stop, sunbae its worried about you.” you mutter, and when he mumbles, “i’ll be fine,” you glare at him until he mutters an apology instead.

college fling!hoshi who gets into his first real argument with you after you find him practicing in an empty studio way past midnight. “what the hell are you doing?” you snap, flipping on the lights to find him mid-spin, sweat dripping down his face. “just a bit more,” he protests, breathless. “i need to get this routine perfect.” but you’re not having it. “perfect doesn’t matter if you’re too dead to perform, hoshi!” he flinches, wide-eyed, but you don’t stop. “you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. stop before you break something.” he looks at you, frustrated, and finally, he slumps onto the floor, whispering, “sorry, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who randomly shows up with snacks between your classes. “figured you’d be hungry,” he says, handing you a convenience store bag. you peek inside—your favorite drink and a pack of cookies. “didn’t know you were trying to bribe me,” you tease, taking a bite. “is it working?” he asks, grinning, and when you give him a thumbs-up, he beams like a kid on christmas morning.

college fling!hoshi who ends up crashing at your dorm after a long night of studying. he’s sprawled on your bed, one arm thrown over his face, while you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing away at your laptop. “you’re gonna fail if you don’t actually read the material,” you say, glancing up. he groans, rolling onto his side. “then i’ll just ask you to tutor me again,” he says, smirking, and you chuck a pillow at his head.

college fling!hoshi who catches you off-guard one day by slipping his jacket over your shoulders during a chilly walk across campus. “you looked cold,” he says simply, his voice softer than usual. you pull the fabric tighter around you, the faint scent of him lingering on it, and when you glance at him, he’s pretending to be super interested in a tree. “thanks,” you say quietly, and he shrugs, his ears turning pink as he mutters, “anytime, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who came back one day to the practice room after a late practice, two cans of soda in hand, humming to himself. “sunbae, I got—” his voice cut off when he saw you slouched on the floor, one hand clutching your forehead. “y/n?” he rushed over, dropping the sodas with a dull clunk. crouching in front of you, his voice softened. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you waved him off weakly. “just tired. it’s nothing.” but he didn’t buy it for a second.

college fling!hoshi who gently pried your hand away from your forehead, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’re burning up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “why didn’t you say anything?” you tried to sit up straighter, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “it’s fine, really. just pushed too hard today.” his expression tightened. “this isn’t fine, y/n. you shouldn’t have kept going if you felt like this.”

college fling!hoshi who helped you lean back against the mirror. “stay still, okay?” he murmured, crouching next to you. you gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “you’re acting like I’m dying, hoshi.” he didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “don’t joke about that,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of improvement.

college fling!hoshi who let you rest your head against his shoulder when you slumped forward again. “here, like this,” he said softly, adjusting so you were cradled in his arms. his hands were steady, one supporting your back and the other brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “just relax. you’re safe.” he started gently blowing on your face, the cool air soothing your heated skin. “better?” he whispered, his voice close enough to send a strange flutter through your chest.

college fling!hoshi who stayed with you until you could sit up on your own again, his arm still lingering behind your back just in case. “you scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “i thought… what if something happened and I wasn’t here?” you blinked up at him, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “sorry,” you muttered. his hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “just don’t do it again, okay? i mean it, you always scold me for practicing too late...”

college fling!hoshi who refused to let you walk home by yourself, no matter how many times you insisted you were fine. “nope, not happening,” he said firmly, slipping your bag over his shoulder along with his own. “if you collapse halfway there, what am I supposed to do? carry you like a princess?” you snorted, but the teasing tone in his voice couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.

“you know, I could really get used to you carrying me around,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh, really?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah,” you said, deadpan, “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute guy carrying them everywhere?”

college fling!hoshi who, despite the teasing tone in your voice, caught that little glint in your eye. “alright, then,” he said, voice suddenly serious, as he paused in front of you. “come here.” without waiting for a response, he slid his arms under your knees and around your back. you yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, he had you lifted off the ground like you were weightless. “you wanted it, right?” he said with a grin, carrying you like it was nothing. “not a word out of you until we get to your dorm.”

“you’re a natural at this,” you teased, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from passing out on me,” he muttered, but his cheeks were flushed, and his hands felt like they were holding you just a bit too tightly. “this isn’t bad,” you added with a smirk, “maybe I’ll start making demands. like, no more walking for me from now on.”

he blushed at your joke but didn’t miss a beat. “you sure about that?” he asked, glancing down at you with a sly smile. you nodded, playing along. “definitely. I’m a princess now. I’ll need snacks, water, a blanket... and don’t forget the back rubs.” hoshi shook his head, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re taking this way too far, but okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “I can do all that...”

“deal. but only if you don’t drop me halfway there,” you teased. hoshi’s grip tightened, his voice lowering a little. “I’ll never drop you, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who made it to your dorm room, still carrying you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this,” he said, shaking his head as he set you down on your bed. “enjoy what?” you asked innocently, grinning up at him. “this whole ‘being carried around’ thing,” he said, still laughing a little. you shrugged dramatically.

college fling!hoshi who would come up to you after class, always fussing over you—was your shoulder okay? did you stretch enough? how was your lunch? you’d always brush it off, sulking a little at the way he took care of you like it was his full-time job.

[wordsarelife]

—sweeter than fiction

pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!hale!reader

summary: stiles finds out you're dereks sister and has to cope with the news lol

warnings: none, just canon typical losers flirting lol

note: just gonna leave this here lmao. this is just a little drabble, but i hope you guys like it!!

“let me just clarify this. when you say brother, you mean…”

“brother”

“…right” stiles nodded. “and that’s like a 100% sure, yeah? no chance of misconduct or—“

“stiles”

"okay, you know what? it's fine" stiles smiled, but did not look even close to being fine. "i mean what's a little relation to derek hale, when there are far worse monsters, right?"

"right." you nodded, trying your best to help stiles calm himself down.

"i mean has he ever talked about me.. to you, i mean?" his gaze narrowed as he searched your face for any hints of rememberance. "i think he likes me."

"well," you paused, trying to think of the time before you had come back to beacon hills and what your brother had said about scott mccall and his idiot friend. "he's definitely mentioned you."

"ha!" stiles called, a victorious smile settling onto his face. his fist swung through the air and just nearly missed you as you swerved to the side quickly. "eh, sorry," he excused. "i'm still getting used to all these new proportions."

"are you talking about puberty?"

"well, it was a hard time for me, okay?" he bit back. "everything happened so quickly. like— like being hit by a bus. but not in a fun way."

"there's a fun way?"

"i—" stiles blinked. "it's definitely more fun than being ripped to shreds by your brother when he finds me here." stiles made a large gesture to signal that he was not supposed to be here. in your room. at night. in the loft you shared with derek.

"why are you emphasizing the word brother like that?" you furrowed your brows.

"ever heard of the phrase 'foreign concept'?" stiles muttered, before he lowered himself onto the bed in front of you. "i mean how is that possible? like biologically?"

"well, when a man and a woman—"

"don't" stiles interrupted. "you're supposed to be serious."

"you're not really serious either, are you?" you crossed your arms and leaned back against the headboard.

"i'm not supposed to be. i'm allowed to fight trauma with the inappropriate use of sarcasm. it's who i am. you shouldn't even be able to detect a joke or crack a smile, considering who raised you." he send a side-eye in your direction before he continued rambling. "and as always it's just my luck that i am hopelessly into someone who's related to derek hale. this is just great—"

"you're hopelessly into me?" you repeated surprised.

"i said someone related to derek hale." stiles corrected. "i could very well be talking about your mother."

"are you talking about my mother?" you repeated with a roll of your eyes.

"nah"

"okay, that's good. because you know she's dead, so your love would be doomed from the start."

"yeah, good argument, actually." stiles nodded repeatedly. "glad we talked about this. now that i've revealed my interest, is there a slight chance— i mean statistically speaking and considering, uh, that i—"

you interrupted promptly, taking his face into your hands and moving him so close, your lips were not far from touching. "you should stop talking."

"uh, yeah, i probably should"

you kissed him—quick, impulsive, no time for words. it was over in a second, but it left both of you breathless, staring at each other, the tension thick in the air.

your eyes wandered over the stunned expression on his face, before you moved closer once more, softly kissing him again.

the door to your room flew open with a bang and you and stiles jumped apart, similiarly surprised at the sudden sound.

your brother was standing in the doorway, his dark eyes narrowing at the scene in front of him and stiles quickly moved his hand away from your thigh, as if derek's stare alone had burned it.

"stiles." derek growled. "you have about five seconds to get your slimy little lips away from my sister before i rip you to shreds."

stiles shot you a look that clearly said "i told you so" before scrambling to his feet and practically bolting out of the loft, not bothering to say another word.

you couldn't help but smile up at your older brother. "oh derek, do you always have to be such a sourwolf?"

derek’s lips twitched into a humorless smirk. “yeah, okay. that’s it. you're officially banned from ever seeing him again.”

[enrosewriter]

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Pairing: Reader X Bang Chan

WC: 600

Content: Idol au, mature context, shy reader, kiss marks, more of a dom chan then shy chan.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

It was supposed to be just a photoshoot. Just another concept for the brand Chan was helping promote—something edgy, something bold. And you, his best friend, had somehow ended up roped into being part of it.

The photographer’s vision? Something intimate. Something raw.

Something like kiss marks all over Bang Chan’s chest, neck, and stomach.

You’d laughed when they explained it, thinking it was a joke. But Chan had agreed almost instantly, flashing his dimple and saying, “Yeah, Y/N’s perfect for it. She’s comfortable with me. We’ll make it look natural.”

Comfortable. Right.

Now here you were, backstage in the dimly lit studio, your lips stained red from the makeup artist’s touch-up, and Chan standing in front of you with his shirt already off—tan skin, defined abs, and that confident smirk faltering just a little when your eyes met.

“Ready?” he asked, voice lower than usual.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. Totally.”

The first kiss was awkward. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his collarbone, and both of you laughed nervously.

“Sorry,” you muttered against his skin. “This is just…”

“Weird?” he offered, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Yeah.”

But the camera clicked. The photographer gave you encouragement. And you did it again.

And again.

You trailed marks down his chest. Light pressure. Lingering lips. His skin was warm under your mouth, and you could feel every breath he took—shallow, restrained.

At one point, your hand landed on his waist to steady yourself, and he flinched—just barely.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but his fingers brushed your arm in response. Gentle. Anchoring.

By the time you got to his stomach, the tension was unbearable. You could feel it humming in the air—unsaid things and stolen glances. Your lips pressed lower, just above his waistband, and his hand gripped the edge of the table behind him.

The photographer’s voice was distant. Something about how good the shots were turning out. You barely heard it.

Finally, someone called a break. You turned away, heart pounding, heading toward the dressing room to wipe the lipstick off.

You didn’t expect Chan to follow.

He closed the door behind him, locked it, and stood there, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Chan—”

“What are we doing?” he asked, voice rough. “Because that didn’t feel like just a shoot.”

Your back hit the counter. He moved closer.

“You think I didn’t notice how your hands were shaking?” he said, his fingers brushing your hip. “How you hesitated every time your lips got too low?”

You exhaled, trying to stay composed. “We’re friends. We’re just—”

“Friends don’t look at each other like that,” he growled, cutting you off. “You think I haven’t noticed how you avoid my eyes lately? How you bite your lip when I get too close?”

He pressed a hand to the wall beside your head, caging you in, but not touching you beyond that. Giving you space—barely.

“Say something,” he murmured.

You reached up, thumb brushing one of the kiss marks you’d left earlier. “You liked it,” you whispered. “Didn’t you?”

His control snapped.

He kissed you—hard. Mouth urgent, hands gripping your waist like he couldn’t get enough of you. And you kissed him back, all the heat and tension from the day exploding between you in a rush of teeth and tongue and desperate gasps.

When he finally pulled back, both of you breathless, he pressed his forehead to yours.

“That’s not leaving the studio,” he whispered. “That’s mine.”

[scurvyboy]

Not to beat a dead horse or whatever, but you don’t see fiddlestan being healthy at any point? I feel like your version of them would have most of their issues figured out by the time they’re old and stuff. Can you talk about their dynamic a bit more pretty please? (I know you just had an ask about this so sorry to keep bringing it up aha 🤪. I’m obsessed with them, and I love your art/au and want to understand them.)

the basis of why i like the fiddlestan ship is strictly because it doesn't work and is doomed to fail. it's a relationship between two extremely damaged people that are only together for transactional reasons.

the way i see it starting: fiddleford comes back to gravity falls after being kicked out by emma may in hopes that he can patch things up with ford. he finds stan there instead and decides to help him fix the portal despite his crushing anxiety about it because he has nowhere else to go. they're both stuck alone in this situation and urges become apparent. things are awkward for a while before they start banging fuck nasty brokeback mountain style.

fiddleford wants stan because he's delusional and still in love with ford. sure he grows to appreciate differences between them and has a separate chemistry with stan, but he is also completely out of touch with reality and rebounding off of his failed marriage with a man who looks just like the one he cheated on his wife with. working on the portal triggers intense panic attacks, which makes him use the memory gun more, which makes him less and less stable.

stan is working himself to death trying to get ford back and just needs affection. the sexual aspect of their relationship helps him blow off steam, but fiddleford also treats him like a person with a brain and allows him to be emotionally vulnerable for the first time in a long while. having someone finally break down his walls is equal parts frightening and addictive for him; he wants to be loved so badly but knows deep down that fiddleford doesn't actually love him, just the person he represents. he's just second best again.

things start to fall apart when it becomes clear that fixing the portal will be impossible without the other journals. fiddleford basically gives up trying to do the work in earnest and just lives in a domestic fantasy world. stan starts to get more and more impatient about the lack of work getting done and the stress makes him a lot more irritated and volatile. the two enter a vicious cycle of violent fights and honeymoon phases until things boil over: stan confronts fiddleford about the memory gun and kicks him out after he tries to use it on him.

post break up fiddleford, now with his cult and savior complex, murder suicides the portal and their affair from both of their memories. however, stan gets his portal memories back being at the shack and goes on to do what he does in canon.

the whole relationship takes place over the course of a few weeks and is as canon compliant as i could manage. i think it's a really fun concept and i think about it all the time.

to be real, i really dislike the idea that all relationships in media have to be healthy and resolved in order to be compelling. the idea that characters NEED to end the story happy and together is just plain unrealistic. i prefer when stories go outside of the limits of "and then they got together and everything was great after that", especially if being in a relationship isn't necessary to a characters arc.

i do think that them getting together when they're older could work and be very nice. however, i also don't think it's entirely necessary, especially since i did make their relationship rotted gutted awful bad. it is cute though, they can kiss and watch tv and marry for taxt purposes i guess.

[evelyns-envy]

Hi, I really liked your account <3. Could you make a hc of Daisuke with the reader being Swansea's daughter? But I understand if you don't want to :>

(sorry if the writing is bad, English is not my first language and I used the translator ಥ_ಥ)

YES YES I WILL HAPPILY WRITE THAT (your english is better than mine and english is my first language lmfao.)! this is such a cool idea though and i never even thought of it. this is my first req ever im so excited tysm!!

✎ "but daddy i love him!" (i'm havin' his baby, NO IM NOT but you should see your faces ;)) -taylor swift

warnings! - SMUT HCS + SFW!, vibrator, pegging, reader being swanseas daughter and getting w daisuke, MY FIRST REQ GUYS BE SO PROUD, evelyn is freaky 😼

SFW!!

oh jesus this is certainly a concept

you're there for almost the same reason daisuke is, for in internship.

however... daisuke is there since his parents are rich asf and paid for him to go, you're there because you've been rejected from your dream job and went into a depression due to it.

swansea knew he wouldn't let his daughter suffer, so he asked if you could been an intern on the ship for Anya.

the Pony Express executives were hesitant at first, but caved when Swansea offered for them to renew his contract for longer.

your first day aboard, you make fast friends with Anya and faster friends with Daisuke.

you ended up having to share a room with daisuke, in bunk beds.

a flirty/silly argument about who got top bunk, ending with daisuke going “what if we just share?”

he knew damn well

taking advantage of your stunned face and mind, he jumped up on the top bunk and stuck his tongue out at you.

”i was just joking, mini mechanic.”

100% calls you mini mechanic for the rest of the time on the ship even though technically HES the mini mechanic but wtv let him have his fun

is actually so glad you’re relatively the same age as him, and was really excited to be able to talk w you about younger and occasionally inappropriate stuff

UNTILL he found out you’re his boss’s daughter..!

tries to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum, but fails miserably

it was always pretty obvious that he had a thing for you, even before yall got together

would be asking swansea abt you 24-7 and your hobbies and favorite things only to be met with “stay away from my daughter, juarez.”

is now 10x more scared

and you’re also 10x more attractive to him since he knows he can’t have you

intentionally gets his finger jammed in something while helping your dad so he can go to medbay and see you

once you’re about a month into the trip, you two have regular staying up late and YAPPING sessions in your room

he’ll occasionally come down from his bunk and sit on the floor next to your bed if the topic is deeper, until you notice he looks uncomfortable on the metal floor and tell him to come sit on the bed

anddd thats how babies are made folks! the end!

nah jk anyways you two talk until the early hours of the artificial ‘morning’ on the ship

when yall finally run out of things to talk about, you realize he’s laying next to you and you’re laying on his arm

oh nooo how did that happen (fuck already damn)

“comfy there?”

”shut up.”

”make me, mini mechanic.”

”now is not the time to bring up my father, dai.”

you playing w his hair and growing to understand how much he loves when you do that

eventually falling asleep in each others arms

you cannot tell me this mf isn’t SO comfy to sleep on be so fr

waking up to YOUR DAD 🤗 banging on the door demanding that daisuke get up and come help him fix smth in the storage

getting jump scared and shaking dai awake bc bro is knocked out and snoring

him opening the door and yall having to act like you weren’t wrapped in each others arms, entirely consumed in the other

holy shit that was fuckin poetic

awkwardly waving bye to him, both of you having a knowing smile tugging at your lips

he eventually asks you out, VERY awkwardly and in the middle of one of the routine late night talks

you accept happily (no shit)

doing basically everything together

always bringing dai along when you’re in front of your dad js for funsies and to piss him off a little

even while swansea doesn’t seem like he approves of the relationship, he secretly loves how sweet and gentle daisuke is to you

+ his parents are rich so you’re set!!

always telling Anya you need to go ask your dad something when really you js wanna see your pretty boyfriend

you both love each other so fucking much it’s insane. and getting your dad to approve is next level

NSFW….!! (watch out 😛😼 ‘ya girl evelyn is a wee bit freaky)

if you’re a little bolder, you definitely jerk dai off under the workbench where both he AND YOUR FATHER are working (this hc isn’t mine i saw it somewhere else on tumblr btw i js love it sm)

ok listen. dai is a sub at heart, but a bratty sub.

tries to talk back to you? his ass is getting bent over the nearest surface and fucked stupid by your strap (it’s always close by 😼)

also jacking him off while another crew mate is nearby, one i think would be good is curly’s bday celebration. jacking dai off as he’s trying so hard to focus on making the cake while all you can focus on is his slutty noises spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

going down on him while he’s talking abt his usual unluckiness when trying to find a girl to truly love him, and now js his money. slowly unzipping his jeans while he keeps ranting, breath slightly jagged now.

“they alway-.. (y/n)? uh- what are y- mhmmm. never mind. feels good.”

he says as you gently tug his pants down, letting him fall around his ankles as you look up at him w those fucking eyes. shit. he’s a goner.

leaning back against whatever wall you undoubtedly have him pushed against, head thrown back as his trimmed nails run through you hair, egging you on.

you’re totally in swansea’s office change my fucking mind and he’s sitting on your dad’s desk 😋

“don’t mess up any papers, pretty. don’t want my father finding out you were gettin’ all ruined by his daughter on his desk, now do you?”

“n-no.. don’t mm- don’t want that.”

“then keep quiet and be good.”

he’s so fuckin freaky he’s defo an exhibitionist

you’re a girl- so you obviously brought a vibrator be SO fr w me rn

you definitely press it against his tip while slowly licking up the base

he is SO vocal that you have to tie his hawaiian shirt around his mouth so that he won’t YELL

gets cum on an important paper and yall have to throw it away lmfao

swansea being confused as shit abt where the document went and has been searching the Tulpar and asking all the crewmates if they’ve seen it

oopsies…

[yeollie-plz]

Promises.

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: In a world where gender roles have been reestablished, Joel continues to save you.

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: no outbreak but different outbreak?, i can't explain it, established relationship, Y/N insert, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced marriage, kissing, mentions of alcoholism and abusive relationships, explosions, pet names, kissing, orgasm denial, breeding kink?, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Once again writing from a dream I had, idk why I get such vivid dreams sometimes but its honestly so fun!

Also! I am so sorry that I haven't written something in so long, I had literally no motivation. But I hope you didn't miss me too much! And hey, I'm coming back with a bang! (literally, in a few aspects)

When the world almost ended 20 years ago, the government had to issue new laws. Laws that matched up women to men, in order to ensure the repopulation of the human race.

If you were of age, you were matched and married, the man basically owned you. It was very medieval in concept and for a lot also in practice. But for you, it brought you Joel who had slowly but surely became your whole world.

He was kind and took care of you. Nothing like the horror stories you would hear from the other women. He wanted to protect you and let you take your time to warm up to him.

When you finally admitted you liked him he was overjoyed. He had kissed you but took his time with everything else. He knew it was your first time and he wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. Joel was good and you couldn't be more happy with who was chosen for you.

The world, although now different and strange was the world you had to live in. You had to stay home, unless accompanied by Joel. The goal to repopulate the earth after an alien race tried to take over and wiped out half the population was going well. But with less humans and more aliens taking up living here, it wasn't the safest anymore.

Everyone was assigned a job, a person to marry, and a home to live in. It was organized with the goal of integrating humans and the aliens. And it was working as well as it could be. In the beginning it was rough but after so many years people were getting used to the new world order.

There, of course, was still some rebel groups out there. Women who wanted freedom, aliens who didn't want to be a part of earth, and humans who didn't want them either. Riots would happen here and there because of these rebel groups. But you? You were safe with Joel, you knew that, and you trusted him fully.

You woke to the sun shining in through the large windows that lined your apartment. One good thing about being assigned housing was that most were very nice. Rolling over you were met with an empty bed, Joel was no where to be found. There was no sound coming from the connected bathroom, and just as you were about to get out of bed in search of him there was a crash in the kitchen.

Out of instinct you threw the seats off of you and ran into the kitchen. Only to be met with Joel bent down on the floor cleaning up a broken plate.

"Joel?" You questioned, the shock now leaving your voice and being replaced by amusement.

"Hi baby." He said sheepishly as he picked up the last few shards.

"You okay?"

"Yep, just trying to make you breakfast a failing miserably, the usual." He shrugs and throws the shards away before leaving his mess for a second to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"It's the thought the counts." You smile at him while watching while he finishes up his cleaning.

You sit at the counter, watching him intently. After he finishes cleaning he returns to the stove. You hum to yourself as you watch him. The way his back flexes as he moves his arms makes you bite your lip.

Joel turns as you basically eye fuck him, smirking as he notices the look on your face. Placing a plate in front of you, he smiles at you, and leans across the counter for a kiss. You give him one and utter a small thank you.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel spoke up, "Got a lot of cleanup at work today, someone vandalized the train station." He said almost absentmindedly.

You nod in response not being able to hide the concerned look on your face.

"What?" He questions, quickly noticing.

"It's just-" You set down your fork, "-it was probably one of the rebels and I just don't want you to be put in danger."

He smiles lovingly at you, "I'm sure they won't be anywhere near it anymore, it was just some spray paint. Besides, you don't think I can protect myself?"

"No, I know you can protect yourself. But you'll just want to protect everyone else as well, then you'll get yourself in trouble."

Joel lets out a half scoff half laugh at your statement. He knows you are right, he is a protector by nature. He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him in an attempt to draw your eyes to his.

"The only person I want to protect is you. Sure, I will help the guys if they need it but my main goal is always to come home to you." Kissing your knuckles, he puts your hand down.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It had been a few hours since Joel had left for work. You did what you did most days which included some cleaning with a lot of relaxing. As you were settling down on the couch after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, heavy knocking came from the front door.

The sound made you jump, the aggression of the pounds sent chills down your spine. You usually weren't one to open the door when Joel wasn't home but you did like to at least see who is was.

So, as another set of knocks sounded on the heavy wood door, you dragged your ice cold body towards it. Your feet felt like lead as you stood straight to see clearly out of the peep hole.

On the other side was your neighbor, Jill. Jill had always been nice to you, yet you didn't really like her husband. He was arrogant and rude to say the least. But as Jill stood on the other side of the door, you could see fear etching her face. She shook as she glanced back and forth down the hallway. It was almost like she thought someone was following her.

After a few seconds of debating what to do and watching Jill secretively, you decided that whatever was happening to her was important enough to help. Girls had to stick together, especially when your world had become what it was.

Just as Jill was about to pound on the door again, you opened it slowly revealing yourself to her. She seemed almost shocked that you had answered.

"Jill?" You questioned trying to snap her out of her trance enough for her to explain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do." She looked at you with pleading eyes and you knew this was something serious.

"Come in, I'll get you something to drink. Maybe some tea?" You weren't sure what else to do but when you were anxious you liked a nice warm tea, maybe Jill did too. She nods at your suggestion and enters the house.

You close the door behind the two of you. Telling her to make herself comfortable while you made her tea.

When you returned to the living room with a nice cup of tea, Jill was still stood in the entrance of your apartment. Arms crossed like she was trying to protect herself.

Slowly you made your way over to her, holding out the mug to her. She took it after a beat or two of staring at it.

"Please, sit down. Take your time, you can tell me what happened." She looked up from the mug to you as you spoke and nodded tentatively, but did what you said anyway.

Silence washed over the two of you and stayed there for almost three whole minutes. You weren't sure what to do so you kept glancing around like something on walls would tell you what to do.

Suddenly she placed her mug down on the coffee table. Your head snapped towards her, you had almost forgotten why she was here. Something had clearly happened and you were curious what.

"I'm sorry for coming over here so abruptly, it's terrible of me to put you in this position." She said with a sigh.

"It's no problem. I can tell you aren't doing great so I'd like to be there for you if I can be." You offer a smile which she almost returns.

"Uh well how do I put this?" She sits and thinks for a second.

"My match...my match isn't such a good fit. He isn't a good person. Since the wedding day he has gotten drunk almost every night. He gets angry and yells and breaks things. He's just a bad person. Even not drunk he isn't a good person." You nod along to the things she's saying. you've heard of bad matches but nothing this bad.

"Well for a while I put up with it. I mean what else am I going to do? This is what had been chosen for me. He didn't always take it out on me too, he would yell at nothing or himself. But eventually it was turned towards me. Nothing I did was right and no matter how hard I worked to keep everything perfect he'd find something wrong with it." Tears are beginning to form in the corners of her eyes the longer she tells you about her husband.

All you can do is sit there and listen, unsure of how to respond. You've never seen Joel angry, let alone as angry as she is describing her husband.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Jill continues, "He would yell and call me names. Tell me how worthless I am and he would throw things, break things. He never got physical with me so I took it. I took the names, I took the insults, all of it. But I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to stand up for myself. And-and-" She chokes up not able to finish her sentence.

This is when you reach out your arm to touch her shoulder. An attempt at a reassuring gesture that just has her jumping back instead. She recovers and looks up at you with apologetic eyes. You give a small smile back.

"He hurt me, badly. I thought he wouldn't stop, it just kept happening. I think I blacked out because when I came to he was gone. I didn't know what else to do so I came over here. I think I should go to the hospital but I can't go without him. I just don't know what to do." She was fully crying now, her words almost indiscernible as she sobbed.

You offered her a tissue which she took and sobbed even more into. Unsure if you should try and comfort her again, you decided it was better to try and this time she didn't shy away. Instead she leaned into the touch and you stroked her shoulder slowly. The action seemed to calm her down remarkably and she eventually calmed down enough that you felt it was a good time to finally respond.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry we don't get choices or options. I'm so sorry we are forced to submit to insane ideals and insane people." She lets out another sob. "Listen, Joel doesn't work too far from here and if you think you are strong enough we can go to him and he can take you to the hospital. As long as we have a man with us, they should treat you."

"You mean...go out alone."

You debate what you had just suggested, I guess you had suggested going out alone but it wouldn't be too far of a journey.

"It's not too far and we aren't alone we have each other. We can wear disguises if it makes you feel better. I just want to be able to get you the help you need."

"Are you sure Joel will help me?"

You nod, "If I ask him, he will do it."

She frowns a bit at your statement, you didn't realize how perfect you were making your relationship seem after she just poured her heart out to you.

"Listen, he will help, I promise."

So, the two of you donned some hood and masks in an attempt to cover your hair and feminine features. You also gave Jill an ice pack to soothe her injuries for the time being.

"Ready?" You glanced at her trying to decipher what she was thinking. She stood there still looking very guarded. "Here, we can hold hands, make sure the other doesn't get lost." You offer your hand to her with a smile, she smiles back and takes it.

Leaving your apartment the two of you make your way to the ground floor. It wasn't often that you left the apartment but when you did it was obviously always accompanied by Joel. Something about leaving on your own felt freeing but very scary at the same time.

The train station was a short walk from your building, maybe half a block. Joel always told you exactly where he was working that day and what he was doing. You liked to hear his stories of the outside world and it made you feel safe to know he was safe.

As the two of you got closer to the bustling crowds trying to catch their trains, you felt Jill tense up next to you. You glance at her and squeeze her hand tighter. This draws her attention to you.

"Not far now, we'll be fine."

You didn't know how much you would regret this sentence because as soon as you caught sight of Joel's salt and pepper hair an explosion busted out the wall a mere hundred or so feet to the left of you.

Through the hole in the wall came a group of rebel aliens, screaming and yelling something. With how loud and close the explosion was you ears were ringing. You glanced around at the crowd who was now running around in fear. Trying to catch a glimpse of your husband in the mess, you felt a hand tug yours. Looking down you saw Jill on the ground, curled into herself. She was crying again.

You jumped into action trying to pull her up so no one stepped on her, but she wouldn't budge. "Jill please, get up we need to get somewhere safer!"

She still didn't move, you looked around desperately. Either you were going to find Joel or someone else that could help. That's when you caught a glimpse of him. There was no way he could hear you over the yells and chaos but you called his name anyway.

And it was almost like his ears were trained to hear your voice and your voice alone because not long after beginning to call out to him, he locked eyes with him. He took a double take, convincing himself it wasn't really you. Then his eyebrows furrowed realizing he wasn't imagining things and quickly pushed through the crowd towards you.

He was now stood in front of you, your face in his hands as he looked you over. "Baby what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The questions came quickly, too quickly to answer so you nodded instead.

"Joel, I'm fine. I came to get your help and then the explosion..." You trailed off not sure how to explain yourself now that you had put yourself in such danger.

"Tell me later, come on, I gotta get you out of here." He tries to drag you out but you pull him back, stopping him.

"I can't go, we need to get Jill."

"Jill? Our neighbor, Jill?" You nod and gesture to her still on the ground.

He looks confused but doesn't question it, instead he walks over to Jill.

"Jill? Can you walk?" She shakes her head no.

"Can I carry you, we really need to get somewhere safe." She takes minute and eyes him closely, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Finally, she nods.

So he picks her up carefully and turns to you, "Hold onto my shirt and don't let go." You nod and grab ahold of the plaid shirt he was currently wearing.

That's how the three of you made your way out of the chaos. But Joel didn't stop until you were at least a block away from the danger before stopping and setting Jill carefully down onto her shaking legs.

You quickly made your way to her to help her stabilize herself and when she did you looked back at Joel. His back was turned to you and his hands were in his hair. He wasn't happy, you knew that, so you didn't speak just kept trying to calm down Jill.

Finally he turned back around, eyes filled with something you had never seen before. At least something you had never seen in Joel.

He breathed deeply, "I need to get you home." He said simply.

"Okay, but Jill needs to go to the hospital first."

"What?" The curtness of his voice had you reeling back a bit, was he angry? You had never really seen Joel angry before, not at you at least.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before he said something he would regret.

"We will take her to the hospital, make sure she is in safe hands, then we are going home."

"But what if she needs me?" The look on his face at your response should've had you stopping at 'but', so you just nodded.

And that's what you did. Made sure Jill was in safe hands and that her family was called to help her and you were dragged home. It was less than twenty minutes before Joel was pushing you back out the door and dragging you home.

You didn't protest but you also didn't know what to say to him. So as the two of you entered your apartment, you went to explain yourself. Instead your explanations were muffled by Joel's lips on yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was unsure you were really there. Maybe unsure you were really okay?

"Joel-" You mumble into his lips as he doesn't stop kissing yours. A grunt sounds from him as he hears you say his name.

He doesn't want to talk it seems because his lips stay on yours and his hands find the back of your thighs lifting you up into arms. You help him by jumping and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your arms find their place behind his neck.

Joel carries you through the apartment, lips never letting up. They only disconnect as he drops you onto your bed and quickly takes off his shirt. Leaning back over you his knee is placed between your legs and you gasp at how close he is, his body heat, making you feel even warmer than you already did.

"I thought I lost you." He says simply but you can see in his eyes he really means those words.

But you don't have a chance to respond because his lips are back on you. This time trailing down your jaw to your neck, only to be stopped by the fabric of your shirt. Joel lets out another grunt as he grabs the bottom of shirt and quickly whips it off of you like it had offended him.

As soon as the shirt is off of you his lips are back on your neck, now trailing to the places he really wanted to get to. Your bra is unclasped quicker than you can even process what is happening. His mouth instantly biting at the sensitive skin of your breast, biting at it only a bit before licking down to your nipple.

You gasp as his mouth latches onto the sensitive bud. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that moment. Sure you wanted this, you always wanted Joel but the danger of the day was catching up with you. Now you needed him, needed to feel protected, loved.

"Joel please, I-" Hearing you beg had him unlatching his mouth from your breast and looking up at you.

For almost the first time in an hour he finally addresses you, "What do you want baby?"

"You Joel, I need you. I-I'm sorry." The apology wasn't what he was asking for but it was what he needed to hear because as soon as those two words left your lips he was returning his attention to your chest.

He now attached himself to your other breast, giving that nipple what it had been missing. His hands worked at the button of your pants, undoing it and the zipper quickly. He shoved them down your legs with your help, lips never leaving your flushed skin.

As soon as your pants were down his hands were playing with the hem of your underwear. The thin fabric causing his touches to feel even more intense as he teased you just a bit. But he knew neither of you could wait much longer so he pushed them to the side and started stroking your clit.

Slow circles at first which had you arching your back, chest pushed even farther into his mouth as he continued to take care of both of your nipples. He stroked your clit a few more times before letting his fingers dip further down, teasing your slit.

You were wet, very wet, so they slid easily against you and you gasped. You could feel him smirk against your nipple. But this time he detached himself from it and returned his mouth to yours.

He worked a finger into you in time with your kissing. Then two, then three. They curved against your insides, you moaned into the kiss and bit down on his lip as he brushed the perfect spot inside of you.

Your head tossed back as you got closer to your peak the more he stroked you g spot. When you gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough to draw blood, he pulled his fingers out of you. Leaving you at the brink of an orgasm. You let out a whine as your head snapped back up to look at him.

"I don't like punishing you, doll, but tonight you're gonna need some discipline." You didn't argue just let your head drop slightly. He brought his down and caught your lips in his, forcing your head back up.

You didn't notice but he had unbuckled his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down just enough to let his member loose. He doesn't take your panties off either, instead he leaves them how they were when he was fingering you as his tip teases your entrance. You were still very sensitive from your denied orgasm so your hips jerked up at the contact.

He pretended not to notice and slapped his dick onto your clit, causing you to buck up once again. He pulled back, eyes searching yours. Joel had this look about him when the two of you had sex, something between dominance and love but right now it was a fire. One you hadn't seen before and it made you nervous but oh so excited. It had you gushing between your legs.

You bit your lip as his tip pushed past your entrance, sliding in easily with how wet you were, not to mention his thick fingers being there only minutes earlier.

"Always so tight." Joel grunts as he hilts himself fully inside of you. He stays like that reveling in the feeling before slowly pulling himself almost fully out of you just to snap his hips forward back into you.

He continues this and it is so aggressive that you need to grip onto his shoulders again for any form of support. He had never fucked you like this before. It had your brain fogging up with pleasure.

Your peak catches up with you quickly. You whimper, needing the release you have been waiting for. Joel notices and brings his thumb down to rub your clit a few times. Your heart swells thinking he is going to let you cum. But it is too good to be true because just as you begin to clench around him he is pulling away and out of you.

"Told you, you need to remember how to be a good girl first." The name has you swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I am Joel, please, I need you inside me." He stutters at your words, but recovers quickly, flipping you over onto your stomach.

"You don't just get to cum whenever you want, gonna have to work for it pretty girl." He kneads your ass as he speaks, clearly liking his new view.

"I'll do anything." You speak so quietly, Joel almost misses it. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Want you to suck my dick so badly right now, you have no idea. But this-" His hand lands onto your round ass with a smack, "-this is too tempting right now."

Another smack and his member is returning between your legs as he pushes into you. You moan loudly at the intrusion, constantly getting more and more sensitive the more he denies you of what you need.

He thrusts in an out of you at the same speed as earlier. When his hips snap into yours, he lands a smack onto your ass. He relishes the feeling of you sucking him in each time he spanks you. The feeling causing you to clench onto his dick.

The hand not making your skin burn red is holding your hip so tightly the skin is turning white, you there will be bruises there tomorrow. Hell, at this rate you'll have all kinds of marks tomorrow.

"Want to fill you up, need to see you full of my cum." Although you knew what had gotten into Joel, you had never seen this side of him and it was almost jarring how much of a change it was. Was this the true him? Was he scared to show this side of himself? Scared you couldn't handle it? Fuck was he wrong.

"Please, I need your cum." And you decided to truly show him he was wrong. You liked this side of him and you wanted him to know that.

Joel grunted snapping his hips into yours so roughly it had you seeing stars. You could tell he was close and unsurprisingly so were you. You pushed your hips back into his and he was too far gone to deny you any longer.

"Joel, baby, please can I cum now?"

"Let go for me, I need you clench around this dick as I fill you with my seed. Want to see you all round and pregnant for me." His words send you over the edge with the orgasm you have been waiting for all night.

You clench like a vice onto his cock, the feeling sending him over his edge as well. The hand that was spanking you is sent up your spine to grip the back of your hair pulling your head back so he can attach his lips to yours.

You each moan into each other's mouths as he continues to pump you full of his seed. He works you both through your orgasms as your lips work against each other as well. Your breaths come out ragged as he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes are closed as he speaks, "Did I hurt you baby?"

"No! I uh, I actually enjoyed it very much." He laughs at your response.

"I'm glad." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Your brows furrow.

"For getting mad and getting rough with you, I never wanted to show you this side of me."

"Hey, look at me." He does. "I like every side of you. I should be the one apologizing right now. I got myself into danger by going against the rules."

Joel sighs and swallows the lump that was sitting in the back of his throat.

"I love you." Is all he can think to say.

"I love you." Is all you need to respond.

[lov3rachan]

3RACHA with a Flirty and Pervy s/o

“Is somebody gonna match my freak?” - Nasty, Tinashe

Summary: 3RACHA with a flirty/pervy partner

Pairing: 3RACHA (separate) x reader

Genre: Fluff, humour, suggestive, gender neutral (you/your)

Warnings: cheesy pick up lines, suggestive

Word count: 573 words

With the same concept: DanceRACHA here, VocalRACHA here

Comment: My first request, yay! Ps: the flirting is all taken from things I said irl. I'm a friendly flirt but I mostly use very cheesy pick up lines so… sorry about that. I tried my best with the pervy partner but I'm not really good with that concept/personality trait. Hope you like it!

Requested by: anon (@bbokicidal)

Written: 11.12.2024

Bang Christopher Chan

- Absolutely flustered. He is incredibly shy when it comes to compliments and flirting. While he might at times be flirty himself or retaliate, he can't help but blush and become red from head to toes.

Bang Chan had just parked the car outside of your shared house when you greeted him outside: “Didn't know angels used cars”.

He simply let his head hit the steering wheel, a red blush creeping from his neck to his cheeks.

He groaned in embarrassment: “Can't say this kind of thing darlin'”.

You opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat: “Why? I pride myself in my honesty”.

He just hugged you, face hiding in the crook of your neck: “Stop teasing me”.

“Me? I'm just stating how beautiful and perfect my genius partner is” you chuckle.

Chan felt his heartbeat going crazy and he was sure you could hear it.

One day he was going to be the one to fluster you.

Until then, he’ll take your flirting with a flustered smile and a blush.

suggestive - Hearing how much (and how) you want him makes him blush and riles him up in ways he can't explain. He loves how needed you make him feel and he can't help but kiss you whenever you tease him (and more). He's just eager to please you.

Seo Changbin

- He loves it! It gets him giddy and giggling like a schoolgirl. He will act all cute and fish for more while flirting with you back.

Changbin threw himself on you as you were sitting on the couch, head landing on your lap.

With a smirk you ran a hand in his hair: “Now I know how it feels to have the most handsome guy in the world throw himself at me”.

With a slight blush he giggled and fake pouted: “Just handsome? I'm super cute!”.

He then began acting all cute, his voice's pitch raised and hands making hearts.

Changbin loved being vocal about his love for you and, while he was confident, he adored when you complimented him.

It was a giant ego boost, to say the least.

suggestive - Changbin reacts in the most innocent of ways. At first he thinks he misunderstood you but when he realises… he's blushing and stuttering. Pamper him and keep on talking dirty to him. He just can't get enough.

Han Jisung

- He is shy but tries to hide it. Whenever you're flirty he does not hesitate to send back flirty remarks and show you physical affection. Inside, though, he's blushing and he will think back on your interaction and relish in it.

“Hey!” You screamed, pointing at Han, who was watching a movie in the living room.

“What?!” He screamed, startled.

“I gotta warn the police that a statue escaped the museum ‘cause you're too beautiful to be human!”.

Jisung just smirked, ears reddening by the second: “While you're at it, let them know that you stole my heart”.

As you both giggled at the flirty exchange he hugged you: “You gave me a heart attack”.

“Just like you did when we met” you replied before feeling him heat up.

He was definitely blushing.

He just held you tighter, hoping you wouldn't notice just how flustered you were making him.

suggestive - Han's very needy and so when he meets someone that “matches his freak”... he loves it! The moment you voice your desires and let out your dirty thoughts he's putty in your hands and eager to please.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What are your thoughts on the possibility of Petunia redeeming herself or atoning for her abuse of Harry? This is more ramblings and musing then coherent ask, sorry.

You mentioned in a previous post that while she might not love him, she is concerned for her nephew’s safety - as well as that her emotions towards Harry are quite complex (similarly to her emotions towards and relationship with Lily, post-magic revelation).

There are many fics where Petunia does eventually break the cycle of abuse she and Vernon perpetuate on Harry (but usually this is the result of either divorcing Vernon or her husband outright dying), but I’m kind of curious as to what you think in your analysis of her character.

Petunia is a tough nut to crack for me when it comes to fics where she is redeemed.

At the very least, the extreme neglect and enforced silence that Harry is raised in just…it’s terrible when you look at it more deeply than the early books intend.

Which is made worse still by later on, when she swings a frying pan at his head (Chamber of Secrets, I think?).

In the first books, I get that as the target audience was young kids, not much gravitas was placed in Harry’s treatment in the hands of the Dursley’s - they were the bad family he escaped into the magical world from, the anti-thesis to the Weasley family later, meant to seem more caricature and buffoonish.

If that frying pan had hit Harry, though? Depending on how hard Petunia swung it, no matter that she was concerned for Dudley (after Harry didn’t even use magic, just pretended to), that could have killed him.

We know Dudley beat Harry quite often with his friends, and Vernon at the very least threatened to do so (and from some of Harry’s lines, likely went through with said threats at times), but little about Petunia’s abuse of Harry is mentioned except in the very early books - her shaving his hair except for his bangs for example, leaving him to go to school mortified - so there’s no indication that she regularly threatened him physically over the emotional abuse, but still.

Not to mention the potential for neglect/abuse that Petunia herself went through, Lily being their parent’s favored child over her, how that in turn also affected her relationship with her sister, and then how that is turned on to Harry…

Petunia’s character, and redemption/atonement for Harry’s abuse is such an interesting concept.

Personally, I was never interested in a Petunia redemption arc. I think she's just as bad, if not worse than Vernon. So I'm going to have to disagree with you.

It's not that Petunia's sitting there feeling bad about how she and Vernon treat Harry and wish she could stop it — she doesn't. It's very clear throughout the books that she isn't remorseful at all.

Her feelings about Harry are complex because Harry is Lily's son. And as bitter and jealous as Petunia is, I think, she used to love her sister. Used to even be protective of her. So, deep down, I don't think she wants Harry dead or seriously hurt (to her standard), but at the same time, she feels justified in hurting him and treating him as subhuman.

See, Vernon truly does hate wizards. He fears magic, he loves normalcy, and he despises the "freaks" that essentially represent everything he hates. He's straightforward and completely honest in his approach.

The reason I sometimes consider Petunia worse, is becouse she isn't honest, she's a fucking hypocrite.

She wanted to be a witch. She wanted to be special and go to wizard school like Lily. She was jealous of Lily that she got to do magic and go to Hogwarts.

Petunia started calling wizards freaks and latched onto normalcy as a way to cope with not being special. I mean, she was told that magic exists, that there's a whole special world of magic out there, but that she isn't special enough to become part of it.

So young Petunia coped by going in the opposite direction. She became as normal as can be. Started claiming anyone special was a "freak" even when deep down she fucking knows that if she got a chance she'd leave and go to Hogwarts in a heartbeat. That deep down she wants to be special.

She transferred that jealousness and bitterness, then toward the wizarding world as a whole onto Harry personally, which is so unfair. Like, I find it disgusting, I find it disgusting how righteous she feels treating him the way they do. She is very similar to Snape in this regard (projecting her problems with Harry's parent onto Harry), just without any of the redeeming qualities since she isn't even all that smart, and she wouldn't give a shit if all her neighbors died one day (Snape would). And Snape was better to Harry than Petunia, let's be real, being an ass to a kid is not the same as starving a kid and locking him in a cupboard.

But I do want to point out, that she doesn't have the excuse of a cycle of abuse (I'm saying excuse because that's what it is. Tragic backstory can be used to explain characters' actions but it doesn't absolve them) becouse Petunia wasn't abused or particularly neglected. We have no indication she was, and I think it's more likey she was treated well.

We're told their parents loved having a witch in the house by Petunia in PS, but when we see Snape's memories, apparently their parents urged a pre-Hogwarts Lily not to do magic. They feared it until it was explained to them. Petunia is biased in what she says. Because while they were supportive of Lily once they understood, I don't believe they ever mistreated Petunia, and I don't think she is meant to be read as neglected.

I mean, Lily wasn't even home most of the year, Petunia was getting all of their parents' attention year-round, and during the breaks, they probably dotted on Lily because they hadn't seen her in months. This isn't neglect or abuse. This is Petunia being a petulant child who didn't get to be showered in attention all the time because her parents wanted to hear from the daughter they only got to see, like, 3 months a year.

I don't think either Lily or Petunia were abused or neglected, and I find it somewhat silly to try and justify Petunia by giving her a tragic backstory when the books make her reasons to hate Harry very clear. These being jealousy and pettiness.

So, I'm not interested in a redemption arc or atonement arc for Petunia or Vernon for that matter. I think neither of them deserves it and the only atonement I'd be interested in for them is a prison sentence for child abuse and neglect.

Yes, Petunia may not beat Harry physically as often as Vernon or Dudley, but she lets them. She watched him be chased by Marge's dog and laughed. She approved of Vernon's and Dudley's treatment of Harry because if she didn't, she wouldn't have let it happen. She stopped Vernon from throwing Harry out of the house when Dumbledore sent a threatening letter to her in OotP; if she cared to stop the abuse she didn't actively participate in herself, she had the power to do so, but didn't. Becouse she thought Harry deserved it. She mistreated him just as much. Looking at him with disgust and scorn and calling him a freak is abuse. Starving and locking him up is abuse. She isn't any better than Vernon.

The only Dursley I can see redeemed is Dudley. He started his journey in the books (btw, in that scene, Petunia thinks Dudley is "too sweet" for telling Harry he isn't a waste of space) and he actually was a child, like Harry. He did what his parents did like every child does. But he shows signs of improvement after Harry saves him from the dementors. He realizes his parents are full of shit.

So, yeah, Dudley is the only Dursley I'm interested in a redemption for. Petunia and Vernon deserve a prison sentence.

[cometcrystal]

PNF S5 SPOILIES!!!

MY THOTS

summer block buster/cloudy with a chance of mom - i count these as 1 ep because its the same plot. anyway this is a REALLY strong comeback ep. it doesn't feel unnecessarily self-referential, and the family dynamics are soooo cute and lovely. also the song bangs. 9/10

submarine sandwich submarine - this one had moments that made me laugh but overall it was just fine/good. i liked it but the bigstandout for me was when baljeet went perhaps in hindsight we should not have made our submarine out of FOOOOOOD. also "i like my biscuits hot". 7/10

license to bust - solid fuckin episode. dont have a bunch of thoughts on it but the song was good so 8/10

dry another day - not suuuper memorable but i enjoyed that buford and baljeet were on the same sled. also the mothermugger is a really really really good pun. they wanna say motherfucker so bad. 6.5/10

deconstructing doof - dwampy said we are going to make an episode that is so meta. i thought the therapist character was annoying but the plot of the episode was genius + i liked that candace is going to therapy now. good for her! now someone please get her a therapist who is actually good at their job. 8/10

tropey mctropeface - i really liked this one. it was fucking weird in the same way that remains of the platypus was weird. just experimental and goofy. 8/10

biblio-blast - lawrence fletcher is the only man on earth 7/10

a chip to the vet - i actually liked this one a lot??? i thought it was funny and clever! i felt a connection with the lady who owned an iguana and a tarantula. the concept of a rancho being chipped is incredibly funny. also good pet mode perry moments + jeremy mentioned. canderemy come back to me..... 9/10

more than an intern - this ep just solidified the fact that i dont like major monogram. little fucking bitch. pay your employees you cunt 7/10

the aurora perry-alis - IM SO TIREDDD OF MONTESSA SORRY. whether or not AYA was retconned this all just feels pointless. if an m/f ship does not appeal to my hetjoshi senses, i consider it a total failure. because im a dyke who is a connoisseur of m/f ships so i know my stuff. but the animation of the sky was soooo fucking beautiful so it gets points for that. 6/10

lord of the firesides - this fucking ruled. one of my fav songs of the entire season. also little girls just do this even without an inator because they crave revolution. 9/10

the candace suit - maybe this is a controversial opinion but i liked this episode a LOT. it was creepy and weird, but that's why it's HILARIOUS. everyone just going along with it and putting on the suits makes so much sense because this is a group of people who are deeply weird. buford's song also felt wayyy less cursed in its final form than in the storyboard. so happy he's becoming more comfortable in himself. 9/10

agent t for teen - MY FAVORITE OF THE SEASON BY FAR!!!!!! STACY HIRANO YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!! she is so fucking cool. literally the ONLY thing i would have added to this episode was a mention of her talking to vanessa for like. a second. but flawless otherwise. i couldn't have written a better agent stacy episode myself. 10/10

the haberdasher - i was just thinking about the songwriting video dan posted the entire time. and the song is just as cute as i remember. also big news for annoying people (mothman doof) 7/10

out of character - exterra...... 7/10

meap me in st louis - underwhelming! but i did like stabby barf pain + candace getting moments to shine. meap is meaping like he is sick with consumption now 6.75/10

no slumber party - gonna keep it real with you guys. i published a fic a few days ago where the boys host a slumber party (without ANY knowledge of this episode coming), and i think i blindly executed that concept 10x better than this canon episode did. it was a huge bummer that candace didn't get to have any fun once the groups joined, and there was no stanessa, which is illegal. 5/10

the ballad of bubba doof - bless your heart lunch 6/10

general thoughts

jeremy's new voice is suitable. i am content with it if we cannot get mitchel musso to record lines from prison. whoever this new mystery VA is, he does a good job of capturing jeremy's vibe. i just hope jeremy doesnt get pushed to the wayside in future eps...bring my boy back....he's dating candace he should be around more often

2025 is a good year to be a bufordhead

i think everyone who is questioning why/is disappointed about doof being evil again/candace busting again needs to relax. it's a heavily formulaic cartoon get over it

this isn't about s5 specifically but i like pet mode perry more than agent perry and these new eps had a lot of really good pet mode perry moments so it just got me thinking about that. hes just a little loaf of a creature with nubby paws who loves his family so so so so so much

[nadvs]

push and pull (part one)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

author’s note finally wrote the zach/rafe twin au!! i won’t be making this a series but it was so fun to write as a one-shot (that had to turn into a two-shot because i ran out of post space lol)

tags college au set in the obx universe. mutual pining. angst. love triangle. miscommunication. no smut. rafe endgame (s2 bangs supremacy) (sorry to my zach girlies)

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post

» masterlist

Everyone can tell the Cameron twins apart by their hair.

Zach’s is short and unkept, always looking like he just ran off the soccer field, while Rafe keeps his a little longer, soft strands hanging over his forehead, every edge neat and clean.

From the moment you first see them together, you can tell that the two couldn’t be more different. And you don’t need to rely on any tricks like looking at their hair to know who’s who.

It’s their eyes that give them away. While they’re the same captivating shade of blue, Zach has a sense of hope in his eyes that Rafe doesn’t.

────୨ৎ────

Your father has been coaching your college’s men’s soccer team for most of his career. When the directors of the athletic department kept pestering him about the team needing a social media presence for the school’s PR, he asked you if you’d be interested.

As a freshman, the part-time job seemed like a fun way to get to know people, so you accepted the position and made a TikTok account for the team.

Since the start of the season, of all the soccer players, Zach has been the most welcoming. He goes along with whatever you need for work, humoring you when you hold up your phone and ask him trending questions for videos, like what his lockscreen is or what superstitions he follows before a game.

As time went on, you felt yourself gravitating more and more towards him, watching him in awe whenever you came by the field during practices and games.

Eventually, he started inviting you to the close-knit team’s hangouts. You quickly and seamlessly joined the friend group within a few weeks.

Before you knew it, you had a serious crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and a total sweetheart. What makes it so complicated is that you can’t read him at all.

He’s nice to you, but he’s nice to everyone. Maybe your feelings are unrequited, but you hold onto hope that he looks at you the same way you look at him.

It’s a Friday night when you visit Zach’s place for the first time. You’re sitting in the living room with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends, your empty takeout containers scattered over the coffee table, the sound of the autumn wind rushing past the windows reduced to a whisper beneath your loud conversation.

Zach had already told you he had a twin brother that he lived with in a loft off-campus, but when you rest your eyes on Rafe for the first time as he comes through the front door, it’s surprisingly jarring to see someone identical to Zach.

The chatter continues around you as you watch Rafe toss his keys onto the end table, drop a duffle bag, and silently walk into the open-concept kitchen. He swings open the fridge, keeping his head down.

His hair is damp, sweat glistening on his skin. His shirt is plastered to his torso, the planes of his muscles angular and sharp, not leaving much to the imagination.

“You haven’t met my less handsome brother yet,” Zach jokes to you. He points to Rafe, then to you, introducing you to each other.

“Hi,” you say kindly.

When Rafe meets your gaze, he stills for a moment, eyes almost imperceptibly widening. A couple seconds of silence pass.

“Hey,” he finally offers with a quick, tense nod.

“How was your workout?” Zach asks.

Rafe pulls a protein shake out of the fridge and swings the door closed.

“It’s so fucking busy in that gym,” Rafe replies, stepping away. He turns the corner and paces up the stairs towards his bedroom.

He and his brother have always lived in different worlds. They host parties sometimes, but that’s usually as close as their social circles overlap.

Right now, though, it’s like his aching muscles are willing him to turn around and keep talking to the pretty girl sitting in his living room. But while he’s never been good at ignoring his impulses, he’s not about to flirt with his brother’s guest, knowing how much it bothers him.

Before Rafe reaches his bedroom to get ready for a shower, he hears Zach come upstairs to stop him in the hallway.

“I’ll make sure they’re out by nine,” he says quietly. “That cool?”

Zach has always enjoyed having people over and surrounding himself with friends. But he’s aware of how much it annoys his moody brother when he just wants to chill at home. Despite how much Rafe parties and hooks up, when he wants quiet, he wants quiet.

Because Zach naturally wants to keep the peace, when they moved out of Tannyhill, he set ground rules. One of them is that they’ll check in with each other to make sure they don’t let guests overstay.

Rafe looks at his watch to see it’s nearly eight and says, “Sure. Whatever. I’m having a girl over later anyway.”

As soon as Zach left the living room, you heard one of the other soccer players, Chance, quietly make a joke about how that was the most words he’s ever heard Rafe say.

It makes Rafe all the more intriguing to you. Everyone here has some sort of history with him, albeit small and meaningless. But you’re still fairly new to the friend group. You know nothing about Rafe. For some reason, you want that to change.

Zach’s eyes meet yours when he comes back into the living room.

“Still a warm and fuzzy guy, isn’t he?” Chance says.

“Like always,” Zach quips with a shrug. And that’s that. Nobody brings up Rafe for the rest of the night.

When the hangout comes to an end about an hour later, Zach trails you all out through the front door. You bump into a girl you recognize from one of your classes.

“Hey,” she says. “I know you.”

“Hi,” you say with a laugh, holding the door open for her when you realize she’s coming into the loft.

Rafe appears behind Zach and by the way his eyes hungrily travel down her body, you quickly surmise she’s here for him.

And for some reason, it stings that she’s physically the complete opposite of you. If that’s Rafe’s type, you definitely don’t measure up.

You’re not sure why your mind is running away from you so fast. Why do you care about Rafe’s type? It’s his brother you’ve been pining over for the last month.

“How’d you do on that quiz?” she asks you.

“The grades are already up?” you reply.

“On time for once,” she laughs.

“Let’s go,” Rafe mumbles to her, his hand finding the small of her back.

You know it isn’t personal. He clearly just wants to hang out with her, not entertain any small talk. But the way he’s acting like you’re not even in the room hurts.

You say bye to Zach one last time before you follow your friends down the hallway towards the elevator. Your shoes are padding over the tiles when you hear your name half-whispered.

Zach stands with a foot out his door, beckoning you. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you scurry back to close the distance between you. You look up at his warm eyes expectantly.

“Sorry. Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs with a gentle smile. “Rafe’s like that with everyone.”

You’re sure he’s not like that with the girl he just led upstairs. But you don’t know why you even care that much.

Zach’s the one you like. Obviously if you find him attractive, you’ll find his twin brother attractive, too. You figure your brain is just getting used to it.

You return his smile, appreciative. Stuff like this is why you like him; he cares enough to try to comfort you after his brother brushed you off.

“It’s okay,” you reply. Your friends call your name, urging you to get to the elevator before the doors close. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”

Zach watches you rush away, hoping he managed to make you feel better. He loves his brother. He understands why he is the way he is. But he doesn’t like that he made a girl who was nothing but nice to him feel bad.

As he tidies up the mess in the living room, thinking about how sweetly you had offered to help clear the table, Zach realizes that he enjoys not having housekeepers.

He never liked watching people have to clean up after him. Getting used to cleaning took some time after he and Rafe settled in here when the school year began, but now, it feels good.

Moving out was the best thing they could’ve done. Even though Zach’s only minutes older, he always felt protective of his brother, and being at home with their dad and stepmom just messed with Rafe, bringing out his self-destructive tendencies.

About an hour later, Zach’s doing schoolwork at the kitchen island when he hears the front door shut. He’s used to his brother’s habits, having random girls over, never letting them spend the night.

“She’s new,” Zach says when Rafe saunters into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Rafe says, ducking into the fridge. “Do we have any food?”

“I saved some takeout for you.” Zach points to the container by the oven.

“Sweet.”

“What’s she like?” Zach asks.

Rafe shrugs. Thankfully, his hook-up wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. She just wanted to be physical. Losing himself in the feeling of a girl’s legs wrapped around him, melting into emotionless pleasure, shutting his mind up, is Rafe’s comfort zone.

“She’s cool,” he mumbles. “It’s nothing serious.”

Zach watches his brother pick at his dinner at the counter, not bothering to sit down.

He never understood how he could have these meaningless hook-ups. Zach can’t imagine sharing a bed with a girl he has no connection with. Or never talking to her again after.

He shuts his laptop, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.

“Hey, you think you could be a little nicer to my guests?” he asks. Rafe tenses up.

“This again?” It isn’t the first time Zach is giving him shit for how he talks to his friends.

“It makes them feel unwelcome when you act like that,” Zach replies. Rafe’s temper flares.

“Did they tell you that?” he snips.

“They don’t have to. Just… be decent, okay?”

“I am. You care too much about what people think,” Rafe mutters.

“Maybe you don’t care enough.” Zach’s lips firm into a thin line. “I don’t want to have to apologize for you.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “Who’d you have to apologize to? For what?”

Zach mentions your name and how sad you looked as you were leaving. Rafe sighs, but a hint of anxiety pricks at his skin. This happens a lot. He thinks things are fine, and then he finds out later that apparently, he was rude.

“I hope you’re at least nicer to the girls you bring over,” Zach says.

“Not every girl wants a nice guy,” he jokes with a snort. “Can we skip the lecture?”

“Dude,” he sighs in exasperation.

Rafe rolls his eyes. Zach never got that Rafe doesn’t have the ability to read people all that well, that he doesn’t know when he’s expected to tiptoe around feelings. Rafe wishes everyone was just upfront like he is.

Despite the frustration rolling through his body, he hates to lose his temper on his brother. He always regrets it after if he does. So, he relents.

“Fine. I’ll be nicer,” Rafe sighs. He thinks back to the way you looked sitting in the living room earlier tonight, your voice sweet, your smile pretty.

“She’s cute,” Rafe mumbles. “New girlfriend?”

He wonders if Rafe’s mocking him. Or maybe Zach’s just being overly sensitive. His younger brother has teased him in the past for how he’s hardly ever single for very long.

Zach does prefer to be in a relationship, to live in a promise of commitment with someone who wants to love him. But is that so bad?

They deal with their trauma in different ways. Zach runs towards comfort and connection, while Rafe would rather die than be vulnerable with a girl.

Zach would never say it, but he believes he copes much better than Rafe does. But then again, Zach is pretty sure Rafe has mental health issues that he refuses to acknowledge.

“Just a friend. Her dad’s my coach,” Zach replies flatly. “She does social media for the team. She’s off limits.”

“Off limits?” Rafe echoes. “Why? You like her?”

“No,” Zach lies on impulse. It’s not just his brother he considers you off limits to. He can’t pursue you, either. Although he wants to.

But if he admits to not wanting to date the coach’s daughter because it could end badly and leave things awkward for everybody, Rafe’ll whine about how stupid it is to be living life like that, always afraid to upset people.

They’ve had this exact conversation so many times. Zach would say that it’s not stupid to be considerate. Rafe would tell him to be selfish for once. And they’d get nowhere.

“I already told you that you can’t hook up with my friends,” Zach states.

Rafe sighs. He’s done it in the past, had flings with girls Zach befriends, then caught shit for not calling back, even though he’s always clear that he’s not looking for a relationship. Zach hates losing friends as a result of Rafe’s impulses.

“I know,” he finally says. “Relax.”

It frustrates Zach how much his brother acts like he’s high-strung. In reality, he is relaxed. Among his friends, he has a reputation for being chill and fun.

But with Rafe, he has to play this role. He’s had to since they were kids.

Zach stands, taking his laptop with him as he paces towards his bedroom. It’d be nice to talk to his brother about how much he likes you, about how excited he gets when he sees you coming to talk to him, even when it’s just to film a video.

It’s not like he can tell any of the guys on his team. As close as he is with them, he’s sure it’d spread and get back to you.

Rafe’s the only person he’d gush to, but he’d rather not listen to him whine about how Zach needs to stop giving a fuck about consequences. Because that’s who Rafe is.

“Night,” Zach says curtly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t try to be a dick,” Rafe says. “You don’t want any more of this?”

Zach looks at the food.

“I’m good.”

It’s another lie. He still has an appetite, but he’d rather let someone else eat if they’re hungry. Because that’s who Zach is.

────୨ৎ────

“Whoa,” you say, scrolling through your notifications.

“What’s up?” Zach asks, leaning closer to you.

You’re sitting in a loud and overcrowded on-campus bar with your friends. It’s been a few days since you hung out at Zach’s, being pulled out of the conversation from your phone buzzing incessantly.

Zach’s chin is almost touching your shoulder as you drag your thumb over your phone screen. He smells like soap and warmth, making your heart race.

“This one video randomly blew up,” you say. “From like, two weeks ago. It has almost ten thousand likes.”

“Which one?” Chance asks, sitting across the table from you.

“The one where I asked you guys what’s on your lockscreens,” you tell them. “I’ll send the link.”

Your friends gaze at their phones around the table after you share the video in the group chat, but Zach stays in his spot, preferring to watch over your shoulder, closer than he’s ever been to you.

It’s stuff like this that makes you think he’s crushing on you, too.

“Well, that’s good, right?” Zach offers. “Makes you look good if you get us viral.”

You breathe a chuckle as you read through the comments.

“I don’t know,” you say. “You’re all kind of getting objectified.”

“What?” Kacey, Chance’s girlfriend half-shouts.

“Oh, that explains why I’m getting all these random follow requests,” Chance laughs. He looks at his girlfriend. “I’m not accepting them. Don’t worry.”

“Sunrise guy is so pure,” Roy, the goalie, reads a comment aloud in a teasing tone. “102 likes. Jesus.”

“Am I sunrise guy?” Zach mumbles to you.

You smirk, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. In the video, Zach said his lockscreen was ‘a cool picture he took of a sunrise.’

“I think you are,” you reply. Admittedly, he looked adorable in the video, just coming out of the locker room after a game, his hair messy and his skin flushed.

“Pure,” he repeats, his lips twisting. “Is that good?”

“I’d say it’s good,” you shrug.

“Sunrise guy is fine as hell,” Roy reads, laughing. “And there’s a whole thread under trying to find your Instagram.”

You swear you notice Zach blush as he shuffles to take his phone out of his pocket.

“What are they saying about you, huh, Roy?” Zach teases. “Share with the class.”

“Nobody’s saying shit about Roy,” Chance laughs, scrolling.

“Shut up,” Roy says, punching Chance’s shoulder.

Your stomach twists with unease when you see Zach open Instagram, the red message bubble mocking you.

Sure enough, a few girls dm’d him. He opens a message from a girl with a pretty profile photo.

Hiiii :) please don’t think I’m a stalker lol I just saw you on tiktok and I’m wondering how I haven’t seen you around campus?

You look away, feeling guilty for snooping. It’s a girl who goes to the same college. A girl he could very easily meet and date.

He’s not your boyfriend. You have to remind yourself that he owes you nothing. But jealousy doesn’t care if you’ve claimed someone as yours or not. It still finds a way to seep in.

You shift in your seat, pretending to continue to read comments while your heart squeezes in a vice.

────୨ৎ────

The next weekend, Zach and Rafe are hosting a party. As you get ready, you put extra time into getting pretty. You wonder if you haven’t been obvious enough.

You’ve been flirting with Zach like always, but he might think you’re just being nice, so if the air feels right tonight, you’ll try to make it more clear that you’re interested.

You arrive at the loft, trying to act unfazed when Zach pulls you in for a quick hug. He does it with everyone, though, so you’re not sure if you’re special to him at all.

Rafe notices you walk in. He’s standing just outside the kitchen, a cold beer bottle in his hand. You’re even prettier than he remembers.

Zach leads you to the kitchen where drinks are laid out on the counter, then quickly gets pulled away by the doorbell ringing again.

You pace into the bright space, gazing over the ridiculously large array of alcohol. Ever since you saw the size of this place, you’ve wondered if Zach comes from a wealthy family.

Regular college students couldn’t afford a home like this. And they wouldn’t so generously buy all the many drinks scattered atop the counter.

You meet sharp blue eyes. Rafe raises his beer bottle slightly in greeting. You offer a smile in return, your body numbing.

You notice yet another difference between them. Zach dresses like most other guys on campus, while Rafe is in a crisp button-up, a small logo stitched on the front. You know that brand isn’t cheap. Neither is his watch.

They must be well off. Zach doesn’t seem to want to show it. Rafe does.

You find a drink you can stomach, picking up the cold glass bottle and looking around for an opener.

“Apparently, I was rude to you the other day?” Rafe’s voice cuts over the music.

You look up to see him stepping a bit closer, putting his beer down on the marble with a clack and gripping a metallic bottle opener. You take his silent invitation, handing him your drink.

“You weren’t not rude,” you reply.

Rafe’s dimples cave into his cheeks when he chuckles, looking down, popping the lid off with ease. He likes that you call him out on it, instead of appeasing him.

“My bad.” His voice is husky, his words said with a drawl. He hands your drink back to you. “Zach’s always giving me shit about my manners.”

“He’s right to,” you joke.

You take a small sip from the bottle, your face pinching with a hint of distaste, and Rafe finds it ridiculously cute.

“Don’t like it?” he asks, eyes glinting.

“Just a little bitter,” you admit. You look out at the crowd, some faces familiar, some faces not.

You’re not close enough to the girl in your class, the one you saw Rafe with, to have asked her what their deal is. The curiosity has oddly been gnawing at you.

It’d be weird to mention it to her. Or to him. But you do notice that she’s not here. You take another drag from the bottle, tapping your nails against the counter to the familiar song.

Rafe can’t tear his eyes off of you, noticing the way you’re slightly mouthing the lyrics. If he wasn’t this close, he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“You know this song?” Rafe asks.

“You do, too?” you say, looking up at him again as he towers over you.

“It’s my playlist.”

“Oh,” you laugh, surprised that you have something in common with him, that you both like this fairly unknown artist. “Yeah. This whole album is good.”

Rafe nods. You try not to stare. He has a magnetizing pull that you can’t really make sense of. There’s something so naturally dominating about him, like he’s silently demanding your attention.

The night Zach mentioned your job, Rafe looked through the account you run for his soccer team. Truthfully, he wished you were in the videos instead of behind the camera, but at least he could hear your voice.

You intrigue him. There’s no way to ignore it. His brother doesn’t want him hooking up with his friends, but what’s the harm in talking?

“So, you do TikTok stuff for my brother’s team?” Rafe asks. Zach has obviously talked about you to him. You wonder what else he said.

“My job description technically says ‘content creation’,” you reply. “But I guess ‘TikTok stuff’ works.”

Rafe can’t stifle his smile. He thinks Zach’s an idiot not to like you.

Maybe he’s lying. But it’s unlike him to lie when it comes to girls. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, so much so that it confuses Rafe why, after growing up around so much instability, he’s still so open to being hurt.

“You’re not into soccer?” you ask. He shakes his head no. “Do you play something else?”

“Nah,” Rafe says. “I golf sometimes, but that’s it.”

You can’t help but breathe a chuckle. Of course a rich guy like him would play golf of all sports.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say.

“What’s funny?” he teases, his stare penetrating.

You have to look away, heat flushing through you. Everything about him, about his appeal, is overwhelming.

“Come on,” he beckons, teasing.

“I was going to say that I’m not surprised.” Your eyes dart down to the small logo on his shirt. “You would play golf.”

Rafe’s amused. Zach never liked making it obvious that they come from money because he says it’s in ‘bad taste.’ It’s another thing about his brother that never made sense to Rafe.

“Really? Who’s being rude now?” he asks.

You look up at him with doe eyes. Right now, it’s really hard for Rafe to give a fuck about you being off limits.

“Still you,” you reply. He laughs.

It’s a surprise, the way Rafe’s not as cold as you first thought. He has a guard up and he doesn’t smile much, but he has his own type of charm.

You continue to chat with him about music and school and even your dad being the soccer coach. Zach must have mentioned that, too.

Thankfully, you’re not quite drunk yet, because if you were, you might ask him what else Zach has said about you, and that could be a giveaway of your feelings for him. And if you show interest in Zach, that would probably kill your chances with Rafe.

Uncomfortable realization pools your senses. While these men are complete contradictions of each other, unalike in so many ways, you like them. Both of them. Shit.

You down the tiny bit left of your drink, a sign of just how long you’ve been standing here talking to Rafe. Time with him has a way of slipping.

You gaze out at the party again, noticing that the living room has gotten much more crowded. And then you see Zach, sitting on the couch, beaming brightly as he talks to a girl.

Rafe catches the way your face falls. When he sees your eyes on his brother, he’s sure of it. You like him. And here you are, making conversation with him while you’re pining over Zach.

He thought you were having fun together. He felt a spark. The sting of rejection tears into him. His gut reaction is to be spiteful. To say you should just go talk to Zach if he’s boring you. Or to really make it hurt, to tell you Zach said he doesn’t like you like that.

Truthfully, as much as he loves Zach, he’s always been a little jealous of him. Everything just seems so easy for him, while every minute of Rafe’s life feels like a fight he’s losing.

Instead of hurting you, he swallows down his words with a swig of beer. Maybe all of Zach’s scolding for his lack of manners is finally working.

“Enjoy the party, yeah?” Rafe says to you. He steps away before you can reply.

Later on, you’re chatting with Kacey when you feel rhythmic buzzes in your pocket. You pull your phone out to see Zach’s name on your screen.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Finally,” he laughs. “Can you open the front door for me? I got locked out.”

A moment later, you meet Zach on the first floor, wishing your heart didn’t skip the way it does when he smiles at you through the glass door.

“I’m an idiot,” he says once you let him in. “I forgot my keys. Thanks.”

“Sure,” you laugh.

“You know, you’re the fourth person I called.” Zach puts an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the lobby. He’s never touched you like this and it’s comforting, but then again, everything about Zach is comforting. “Nobody else answered.”

By the way he’s being more affectionate than usual and slurring his words, you can tell he’s drunk.

“Why were you outside?” you ask.

“I walked someone down,” he answers. “Actually, a girl I met because of that video you posted.”

Likely the girl you saw messaging him just a few nights ago. He must have replied and liked her so much that he invited her tonight. Your heart aches.

“How’d it go?” you ask, feigning indifference.

“Good,” Zach replies. “I think she had fun.”

Of course he answers selflessly, more concerned about what she thought of him. You enter the elevator and he parts from you, pressing the button.

“Was Rafe being nice?” he asks. He obviously noticed you talking to his brother.

“He was actually telling me to leave,” you reply. Zach’s eyes widen and you laugh. “Wow, you’re gullible. I’m kidding. Yes, he was nice.”

He did leave your conversation pretty abruptly, but you’d rather not tell Zach in case he feels the need to apologize for his brother’s behavior again.

“Okay. Good.” Zach looks up at the changing numbers on the screen, smiling proudly as he leans back against the elevator wall.

His younger brother can be brash and reckless, but Zach knows it’s all because his feelings overwhelm him. He sees right through Rafe’s attempts to hide it from everyone, including himself.

Everyone thinks Zach is the emotional one. He isn’t. He doesn’t even come close to how sensitive and unstable Rafe can be.

“He’s a good guy,” he says. “I love him to death. We’ve been through a lot together and when our mom left, he…”

You look over at Zach’s profile, his lips curved into a frown.

“He took it hard and I don’t think he ever really got over any of it,” he finishes his sentence.

His inhibitions have clearly been silenced by alcohol, and you’d ask for more information if it didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of his drunken state.

The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Rafe’s standing in the hallway, holding his phone, having just caught up with Zach’s missed notifications.

“Where were you?” Zach says, mocking offense. “Do you even care that I was left out in the cold? You know I don’t like being alone.”

“Alright, come on,” Rafe says, shaking his head in disapproval as he pulls Zach forward by the shoulder. He meets your eyes for a second. “How much did you drink?”

“Relax,” Zach says, then laughs. “Wow. For once, I’m telling you that.”

The three of you walk down the hallway towards the loft. Your arms are crossed, still confused about your feelings for Rafe, still hurt that Zach doesn’t see anything worth pursuing in you.

“I love you, you know?” Zach mumbles to his brother. “I was just saying how much we’ve been through and how much I love you.”

Rafe’s body goes cold. He glares at you.

“What did he say?” he asks you, tense.

“I could barely understand him,” you fib. You don’t want to embarrass either one of them.

“You’re not gonna say you love me back?” Zach says to Rafe.

“Dude,” Rafe scoffs. “You cannot hold your booze. You’re going to bed.”

“Never,” Zach murmurs.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you feel too disoriented to be able to laugh.

(part two)

[bestiesenpai]

this is a quick write, a concept i stole from a video on xiaohongshu :)

God, you weren't supposed to be here. It was a whim to come here and see him and god what a mistake you've made. It started with a knock on his office door, then rounding the desk when he beckoned you over, innocently following his lead when he asked you to sit down on his chair. You didn't know it would lead to this, didn't plan for this, that's for sure.

"K-Kento..." you whimpered, pathetically rutting your hips into his face as you balled your fists up. Wearing a skirt didn't necessarily translate to having your husband eat you out under his desk but here you were. Your panties were in his pocket, his glasses were disheveled on his face and his hair and tie were horribly messy and unkempt.

You were trying to be quiet, not like anyone would come into the office. He had a sign tacked on the door saying he was occupied, in a meeting of sorts. Little did anyone know that meeting was between him and your cunt.

Sucking harshly on your clit, Kento didn't control his loud, panting breaths as he feasted upon you. There was no need, he muttered when you told him frantically to keep it down, no one can hear me.

A knock at the door killed the moan trying to tear its way out of your throat, forced your arching back to go painfully rigid and straight, made your uncovered feet slip from where they rested on Kentos back.

"S-someone's here!" You whispered, biting your lip to stop a whine. Kento paid you no mind, digging his fingers into your thighs as he pushed his nose deeper into you. You couldn't even make eye contact with him, his head obstructed under your skirt.

"Nanami?" A voice called from the other side, knocking again.

"Kento!" Attempting to push his head away only earned you a huff and he grabbed your wrist and held it steady. "Kento please!" Slick gushed out of you and into his waiting mouth and you weren't sure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going; the adrenaline in your body was sending mixed signals.

"Mr. Nana- oh." It was someone you didn't recognize, not that you came to Kentos office very frequently. You just happened to have some free time in your day, so you thought to come over and pay your husband a sweet, innocent visit. And yet what a fool you were.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded in acknowledgement, urging your face to go to a neutral expression and not the sorry fucked out one you knew was plastered on it. The employee eyed you incredulously, trying to pinpoint where they knew you from if they knew you at all.

"Where's Mr. Nanami?" The employee spoke slowly and the suspicions in their voice finally made Kento relent a little, swallowing his own thick globs of saliva mixed with your essence.

"Out?" You squeaked out, face set aflame at the tone of your own voice. There was a tense silence and that finally spurred Kento into action.

"Sweetheart, scoot back for me." He was already pushing your chair back and coming up from behind the desk, a sight to see when his comically large frame unfurled from under the desk.

And what a sight to see, his shirt was unbuttoned a few from the top, his tie was barely hanging onto the knot it was put in this morning, the hair he had perfectly set into place was a horrible mess with his bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, it was a miracle his glasses were still even on his face with how lopsided and foggy they were. The true cherry on top was the lower half of Kentos face, almost dripping with spit and boldly shining in the harsh light of the office. There was no mistaking what was going on in this room.

"Wh-why are...you under the table?" The employee dared to question, their cheeks getting ruddy as they dared to glance your way. Leaning a forearm on the desk to steady himself, Kento heaved a sigh.

"You came all the way to find me just to say bullshit like that?" God, his voice was gravelly and it made your legs twitch. The two were locked in a staring match that the employee desperately wanted to get out of.

Without saying a word they left, careful not to slam the door but not quiet about their escape either. With them gone, Nanami turned to you, licking his lips unabashedly and gripping the edge of the chair to pull you back to him.

"Now, lets finish this meeting, shall we?"

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

No Reservations - Intro

Restaurant Owner Lottie Matthews x Chef!reader

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: After graduating culinary school you have been building up your portfolio, to become a street level legend in the culinary world. And after years of hard work you get hired by a renowned michelin star restaurant Matthews’ kitchen to help design a new menu that’ll star in their new brick and mortar in New York. And there you behold the new heiress of the Matthews’ Kitchen, your boss, is your old situationship from culinary school…Charlotte Matthews.

Warnings: NSFW lol mdni ✨

A/N: Guys i did it🤠 this will take umm more time for updates but I’m committed. Intro (v spicy intro but intro) to kinda set the tone for the rest of the series 🤞🏼

It was like a symphony, the sounds of steel against wood, dough against fist, and the sizzle of oil against the open flame. You felt like you stepped into the middle of sheet music and melodies when you walked into school. Not that it was new, it was far from new.

It was your second year attending The Culinary Institute, and you were rushing past the kitchen to get to your Restaurant management class. Not that you wanted to manage an entire restaurant. You just wanted to cook.

Still it was part of the program and you couldn’t afford to slack. Not when this was your shot to make this into a legit career. You didn’t have any plan b. It was become a chef or work at your uncle’s auto shop in Staten island.

Which wasn’t an option…not a real one.

You’re the last one to walk into the class. You curse under your breath. Late by five minutes, which in turn causes Charlotte Matthews to tut loudly. She shot you a disappointed look, shaking her head.

You felt your frown deepen, walking to find a seat and when the only seat is next to her, you can’t stop the roll of your eyes. You fucking feel your frustration bubble.

Well there goes your day.

“You know if you took this class as seriously as you do your sleeping skills you might actually pass. Isn’t that a concept?” She mocks silently as soon as your in ear shot to hear it.

“Sorry was busy fucking your mom.” You shot back in a whisper, pulling out your books on the table.

That makes Charlotte chuckle, “That was a pathetic shot. Feeling lazy today? Party too hard last night? Heard Eliza’s party in little italy was the party of all parties. Did you sleep with one quarter of little italy again.” She pokes, assuming what most people assume about you.

That you’re a party girl that got around. You don’t know when you got the connotation stuck to you. Whether it was when you got caught swapping blunts with Travis. Or when the rumor spread around that you brought some stranger to your dorm and they stayed there for the weekend and y’all fucked. Or when people saw you leave every weekend to party in the city.

Regardless it became a thing.

You didn’t care, because in actuality. You smoke with Travis to deal with your anxieties. The stranger was your best friend Van who crashed the night with you once to surprise her girlfriend Tai the next day at her mock trial in New York. And you only leave on the weekends to visit your family in Staten Island.

You roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you want to know Matthews. For the record the only thing I did last night was make sure I understood staple ingredients and seasoning characteristics in each cuisine. Oh and of course…your mom too.”

Charlotte scoffs, and stares at you with an hard look before she turns away. Not giving you the slightest attention for the rest of the class. You tensed at the sudden lack of attention, feeling so…loud.

It pissed you off how good she was at the business side of it all. Her hand shot up to answer questions about cost control, inventory management, even fucking strategies on staffing. It was like she was naming her ABCs. Your eyes trailed off from her notes to her face.

She had light makeup on, her bangs framed her face in a pretty way. Dark Curls bounced with a shine to them. Her brown eyes were locked onto the page in front of her and her bottom lip was tucked under her teeth in concentration.

You peeled your eyes away from her to write down something about the importance of filling every role in a restaurant. Charlotte Matthews was the perfect girl according to 80% of the faculty. Her father was a big beneficiary apparently.

You never cared to look into what her family was rich doing, because you didn’t care about Charlotte Matthews. You minded your business. Yet for some fucking reason she cared enough to be in your business. Whether it was because last year you smoked her finals elegant Salmon plate with your creative Wagu burger blend. Or because you got awarded young chef to look out for after winning the midterm smackdown.

Either way you didn’t know why you won those things. Charlotte was leaps and bounds ahead of you in everything. Every step ahead you were she is three steps ahead of in a blink of the eye. It was fucking impressive how she pushed herself to be perfect.

Not that you’d ever tell her that.

Not when she acted like a fucking bitch to you like it was her full time job. Besides half the staff and students here got that covered. She was worshiped like she invented stainless steel pans.

You left class wordlessly, shoulders brushing Charlotte’s as you walked out. There waiting across the hall was Travis. He had his uniform on, and his backpack slung over his shoulder. Head down texting someone.

Probably Akilah.

“Hey,” You greeted walking up to him slowly.

He shot his head up and a smile slipped onto his face. “Hey, is it true Matthews called you a slut?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “How the fuck did you hear that?”

“Bro, you know Jamie live tweets about your arguments in classes.” Travis reminded you, showing you his phone screen with the tweets.

“Shit man. I hate this place-“

“Well did she?”

“No Trav, she just assumed I slept with half of little italy at Eliza’s party.”

“Oh shit-you didn’t even go to that. Which you should’ve because it was insanely good one. At one point I saw Melissa beat Jeff in shots. Jeff went down like a fucking tree.” Travis reminisces with the shine of pure joy.

You shake your head and shrug. “Yeah well unlike you, I want to actually graduate and have a career.”

Travis nudged you with his elbow. “Hey, I already told you my dad will take us both under his wing at his restaurant when we graduate. It’s not like fucking Singlethread. But it could be if we took it over.”

He says the last part with this wistfulness. It makes you smile. “You do know that still means we have to actually try in classes.” You interject, opening the door for him.

He rolls his eyes and walks through. “Yeah well unlike you I want to have some fun.” He says it under his breath.

You hit his arm, as you find seats towards the back of the classroom. He whines at the contact.

“What’s that supposed to mean.” You hiss under your breath.

Both of your eyes flicker to the front watching the professor get settled into the lesson plan for the day before Travis sighs. His hand rubbing the spot you hit, regret painted his eyes.

“Just…you take everything so seriously. You should just try to have fun. Get drunk at a party-actually drunk you know? Dance, laugh, get laid. All you ever do is study, eat, get high with me, and then visit home.” Travis says softly, like he realizes he is stepping into dangerous territory.

You don’t say anything, turning your attention back to the front of the classroom. Watching the professor begin a demonstration on food safety. And five minutes turns into ten, until finally after fifteen minutes you sigh.

“You may have a point.” You admit.

“I know I do.”

You paused, staring at the margins of your paper for a second. You blinked, “Last time I went all in on a party I got cheated on, so it kinda brings back unwanted memories.”

“That was right after high school Y/N. This is our twenties. You desperately need a win-mainly in bed. You’ve been acting like a bitch lately.” He whispers to you, not making eye contact.

“Okay first off fuck you. I work out, to get that pent up energy out.” You whispered loudly.

Travis gives you a look of judgment. Before he turns to write down whatever the professor said about cross contamination. You frown, and bite back any other clapbacks.

“Fine, I’ll go to the next party.”

Travis snaps his head to yours and his face beams. “Holy shit! Seriously?” and when you give him a nod yes, his eyes go wide. “Shit! It’s actually happening! We are going to get so fucked up tonight.”

Travis dragged you into one of the infamous Hyde Park house parties the very next night. You had Van and Tai on high alert in case you needed to be saved. They lived a whopping forty five minutes away but it was better than nothing.

Still you were smoking your cigarette like it was a lifeline. A red solo cup filled with a concoction way too sweet to be considered good. You were in a corner blending in with the haze of the dark lit living room.

You don’t know how many sips you’ve had or how many puffs you taken when you feel someone get close beside you. You hear their voice before you see who it is.

“Well if it isn’t world cuisines herself. What? Missed out on little italy so you decided tonight was redemption.” Charlottes voice rang beside you.

She was wearing a white button down with a black lacy vest over it, black slacks, and strappy heels. Her make up was fresh, and her hair had a messy curled look to it. If she didn’t have that ugly ass smug grin on her lips. I would’ve said she was beautiful.

“Something like that. Why are you here? Trying to get laid by someone besides Monsieur Blachett?”

Charlotte’s face flushed and her jaw clenched. She gave you a pointed look. “No, If I was going to get laid it wouldn’t be with the jackasses in this room that’s for sure. I have taste, unlike you.”

“Whatever Matthews you probably couldn’t get a single person to fuck you.”

“Oh? As opposed to what? You? Sleeping with anyone who breathes? Very original Y/L/N.”

“Fuck you Charlotte. At least I make sure the girls I sleep with finish. Bet you never had a real orgasm in your life-“

Someone behind you walks into your back. Cause you to mid sentence stumble into Charlotte. Both drinks spilling all over her very white button up. You both freeze, your arm braced on her arm. Your face way too close to her chest.

“Shit-Charlotte I’m so fucking sorry.” You rush out in a panic, using the sleeve of your jean jacket to wipe the red liquid off her sleeve.

She yanks herself away from you and a string of curses flying out of her mouth as she marches to the bathroom. You follow her in a surge of adrenaline and sudden obligation to help.

You are beside her in the bathroom as she faces the facet a now wet towel being dabbed on her shirt. She looked fucking pissed, cheeks flushed red, lips in a deep frown, eyebrows furrowed.

“Shit Charlotte I’m sorry-“

“You already said that Y/N.” She snapped, not looking up from her task.

“I know I did but-is that expensive…it looks expensive.” You ask the quality now coming out looking like silk in the bathroom overlight.

Charlotte picks her head up and gives you a peeved glance. Like what you said was the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. And…to be fair maybe it was.

“Well it was a Saint Laurent. Now it’s trash.” She sighs, like she’s exhausted. “If you’re here to keep ruining my night I’d ask for you to find some other victim.” Her hand motions for you to leave.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to do that. Let me make it up-“

“How the hell are you going to do that?” She questions quickly, lips in a tight line.

“I don’t know-I can embarrass myself in front of everyone if you want? It’ll cancel out whatever that was back there.” You suggested.

Charlotte paused, too long of a pause. You wondered if she was plotting your downfall or how much money you owed her for her designer clothes. But she did something you weren’t expecting. She got closer to you. Her hand reach out to close the bathroom door, and with a click locks it.

Your face scrunches in confusion, your eyes following her hesitantly. Lost on what she was doing. Her brown eyes gave your face a once over as her hands grabbed either side of your face. “I have an idea-“ and she kissed you.

It was a very soft and gentle kiss. No rushing, not roughness. It had the tenderness of a first kiss after a first date. You felt frozen, and you didn’t understand why the hell your stomach flipped instantly.

Or why your hands grabbed her waist to pull her closer. Or ever why when her hands snaked around your neck to deepen the kiss, you melted into it. She lead the kiss like she knew exactly where she wanted to go.

Taking her time to lower your guard and then-she tugged on your hair and forced a gasp out of you. Slipping her tongue inside your mouth with the new opening. It made your mind go fuzzy.

She is smooth as hell.

You fought her for the lead. And with the combination of her index finger caressing your jaw, her other hand threading into your hair. You lost the battle, feeling consumed by Charlotte Matthews.

She then pulled away, a string of your shared spit connecting you. You opened your eyes, wide in surprise and slight awe. She had that damn smug grin on her lips. But her eyes had something else then competition. No she had hunger in her eyes.

Butterflies seemed to open up within your ribcage like a pandora’s box at her intense gaze. Like only her eyes could’ve opened something so raw and sudden within your chest. You swallowed hard and licked your lips at the intensity.

“That was…hot.” You mumble, dumbly.

Her smirk softens at the edges and she hums. “Hmm could be better. We could definitely do better.”

It’s a challenge, an opportunity to try again. A chance for more than just the one hazy drunk fluke. You don’t even think of the consequences.

Nodding slowly, “We could absolutely do better.”

Charlotte breathy laugh makes an appearance and something about it tonight was endearing and not anything like it’s normal annoying flair. She shrugs, “Well, logically makes sense to try again…right?”

You nod, not letting her a chance to banter more your hand grabbing her face to pull her back to your lips. She smiles into the kiss, and this time the kiss isn’t soft or gentle. Its hungry. Needy. It has an edge to it.

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

All teeth, and tongue. Charlotte makes you feel weightless. Her hands holding you like you were precious cargo she can’t bear to part from. It throws you for a loop. And when your back presses to the door of the bathroom. And her knee slots itself in between your legs you moan.

It makes Charlotte pause, her head pulling back to study your face, eyes wide. Not even a full beat goes by when she presses her knee into your core again with purpose and another sound gets released from your sealed lips.

“Out of all the irritating sounds you make…that has got to be the prettiest.” She mumbles, lips trailing open mouth kisses across your jaw.

Her hands hold onto your hips, as she guides you to grind on her thigh. You’re uncomfortably wet now, full ball of need. Desperate to release for Charlotte. Your hands are on her shoulders, your nails digging into her shoulders enough to make her wince below you.

Charlotte’s eyes were dark and transfixed on you. Like you were an answered prayer, at the tip of her fingers. And the way her chest was rising and falling? She was breathing like she was getting off on this. It only made your need expand to an unbearable amount.

You moaned into her neck, rutting your core onto her thigh harder. She sucked in a shaky breath, “I got you pretty girl, you are so soaked for me.” it came out in a strained whisper.

You heard it though, “Of course I am Lottie, fuck-fuck…do you think was going to happen.” You stammered out against her neck.

Lottie. You never called her that before. Always Matthews, or Charlotte. Never Lottie. Charlotte’s heart skipped.

She hummed, pressing you down harder, clearly trying to get you to crumble faster. She kissed your temple and mumbled encouragement. Something about it was so tender it made your stomach stir even more. Until your legs trembled on her thigh and you came hard.

A strangled moan tumbling out of your lips into the skin of her shoulder. You were sweaty, heaving for air, clinging onto Lottie like your life depended on it. She held onto you like a steady anchor, as the waves of your arousal subsided.

She was also catching her breath underneath you, her face flush, and head resting on the door behind you. She was studying your face, carefully.

Maybe waiting for you to say this was a mistake. Or play into this being a drunken accident. But you weren’t drunk enough to call this an accident. You knew what you were doing. And when you met her gaze, you knew she knew what she was doing.

Where do you go from here?

You swallow dryly, and let your hand trace the outline of her lips hesitantly. Her breath catches but she doesn’t move away. You nudge her chin back down to you and kiss her lips softly.

“Want me to take care of you?” You whisper the question against her lips.

Lottie freezes, not expecting the question or the tenderness in your tone. She wanted that so badly. She was dripping at this point for you, soaked through. Her voice was stuck in her throat, so instead she simply nodded.

You hummed, and pecked her lips before beginning the slow journey down Lottie’s jaw. Leaving open mouthed wet kisses, taking your time to nip her neck, suck and kiss. Smiling to yourself knowing they’ll show in the morning.

Your hands hand a mind of their own. Undoing the button of Lottie’s slacks for her. You could feel her breathing shift and her hands in your waist tightening. You had to stop the chuckle wanting to leave your lips.

When her pants were successfully discarded. You pulled away from her. Her big brown eyes were wide as she watched you drop to your knees in front of her, your warm hands on her thighs. Your eyes never leaving hers.

This felt way too charged and intimate to be called drunk sex. Too soft to be angry sex. It was a weird other thing. A weird other thing that took Lottie everything in her not to cum just from the sight of you on your knees peeling off her underwear.

You kissed along her inner thigh. Lottie’s hands instinctively threaded into your hair. You looked up to her with a smug smile, before diving into her core. Lottie’s head was spinning with how you were lapping her pussy like you were getting paid.

Your unoccupied hand moved Lottie’s leg over your shoulder, your face now pressed closer to her. You were focused, her taste on your tongue being bitter and so fucking sweet. You found yourself moaning into her folds.

Which only spurred Lottie on, her grip on your hair tightened and she pushed you further into her. Making all sorts of sounds above you. You tried to hold back your smile, as you let your tongue dip between her folds, before moving to suck her clit.

Before long Lottie was practically grinding against your face, “S-so fucking close. I’m fuck-you feel so good.” She mumbled.

She was fully using your face to get off, and you were wayyyyy too into it. Feeling yourself get wet all over again. Still you bucked down, you started sucking on her clit hard. Hear her chant out a serious of cursed and praises above you.

You decided to try something else to get her over the edge and slowly you slipped your index finger into her wet cunt. And Lottie let out a loud “Fuuuck.”

You started a slow a slow pace, fucking her with your finger. Tongue still playing with her clit. Lottie was a breathless mess. You didn’t wait a beat before you started a faster and harder rhythm.

Impatiently wanting her to come undone for you. Desperate for her to cum on your mouth. And when her legs trembled, her cunt clenched around your finger, and her hand shoved you closer to her cunt you knew something snapped.

She was gushing onto finger and mouth. You fucked her through her orgasm, pulling your finger away only to properly lap up her up. Moaning into the taste of her.

Fuck was Lottie in shambles at the sight.

Your lips and chin glistening with her. Your pupils blown out looking up at her like she hung the moon and stars. She brushed her finger through your hair as she caught her breath.

She watched you suck your finger off, the same finger that was in her. And you mumbled “Tasty as fuck.”

Lottie took a shaky breath. This was way too much for her. This-you. A sudden wave of need and want washed over her. Her tiny drawn out crush on you exploded into a fuck session at Kelly’s house party? How the hell was Lottie supposed to be normal about you after this?

How the hell did she fit you into her very curated and planned life? There was no way she couldn’t not try after this. Not after you gave her the best orgasm of her life. Not when you kissed her like she was something to be treasured.

Not when you looked at her so…soft.

But also it’s you. The known fuck girl of the culinary institute. Gets around, unserious, and annoyingly one of the best chefs in her program despite barely trying. You had this air of confidence and cockiness that had most people hung on your aura.

You couldn’t want her. This was a drop in the bucket for you. And if it wasn’t? Lottie started to sweat. That scared her.

Lottie did what Lottie knows how to do. She left. She thanked you put her pants on and left you. Your eyes wide and mouth agape in disbelief.

And that was the beginning of something very very complicated.

[oobbbear]

This rant has 1 target audience and it’s me sorry I like to talk about my unfinished/abandoned stories like they’re successful tv shows and I’m the director getting interviewed about the little details of said show

I love afterland postal so so so much you don’t know how hard it was for me to cut it, but it got to the point that it’s effecting my mental health so I had to stop it. His story in the afterlife is a healing journey, so for that healing journey to be effective I have to make the downfall in his past life hurt, like, HURT hurt, and I went a bit too far that and focused on it a bit too much that I was not working on the healing part anymore. Everyday I regret the making of water angel cause it ended being my fav instead of the protagonists and it being the physical manifestation of death made me focus on the downfall of the story too much, until it literally just crumbled to the ground. If I pick back up Dolus’s story one day I will cut out water angel entirely and maybe most part of his past life, focusing mainly on the afterlife part and how he recovers/deal with his past traumas and rid of bad habits. I want to draw this gremlin again so so bad.

Afterland Postal is a story about learning to love life through death. I like to draw Dolus with CT moon and Callisto sitting together because all three of their stories are about “learning to love life again through the death”. In Dolus’s case is his literal death. For CT moon is him fantasizing death. And for Callisto is through the death of her old life.

After the “death” all three of learned to love themselves again by traveling. They see the world in different perspectives, goes out of their bubbles and get a taste of the wild possibilities of what life has to offer.

For Dolus, I specifically placed him in this post office that delivers mails to the living plane so he can run around experiencing the world but doesn’t have to deal with life? One of his big thing is that he enjoys simply existing, he likes observing the world, feel his surroundings, I had an entire chapter that’s describing how he sees the world through his 5 senses. The feelings are the only thing he enjoyed about life, now he’s a ghost life doesn’t have effect on him anymore, he can really slow down sit down and look at the world he didn’t have the time to look at before, see what he missed and what he may have never be able to see.

For CT moon is basically all described in that If my world goes Bang comic.

Callisto is a different case cause she doesn’t die, strongest fucking character in my stories she survived and very passionate about living. In the original plan after her finding Hester and having Hester’s soul freed, she’s gonna go and travel the world. She has been living in this little house in the middle of nowhere for good half of her life, having her burned down her past and moving on to a new one is good for her. I had a lot a lot of sketches that is just her traveling, I used this as a chance to expand on this weird magical world she lives in, so many cool places and concept. (Also she started dating people again wohoo) I really wish I didn’t burn myself out after that animatic this story would have been so fun to work on.

SPEAKING OF TRAVELING AS A HEALING MECHANISM☝️I m gonna go on a mad Orange Knife spoiler rant since I don’t think there’s a single soul still reading this thing. In Moondust & Natto plot, Moondust really really wanted to see the world with Natto, she loved the world she loved life, in her eyes the outside world is a struggle but one she would fight for because the sunset is beautiful and the grass is soft and for that the hardship is worth it, she loved the world so so much and she wanted to have Natto experience it too. Freedom was a large part of her soul and being add to OK’s collection permanently took that away. She never got to see it again not even the part of her that got added to worm made it out, her soul is killed long ago and body died with the fire that led to Worm and the remaining crew’s freedom, which honestly I think she would be happy knowing that her death freed Natto in the end. She would be mad knowing the person who killed her is freed too but she would understand if she knows Worm’s situation better. After Natto is free I’d like to think he carries a piece of Moondust with him so in his heart he completed their dream, and they can finally experience the world together.

It’s 2am and nothing is making sense sent post to tumblr.com go