#advanced reader

[lillipad72]

As an advanced reader and a mature child, even my english teacher mother gave up trying to find me books and left me almost to my own devices. She did screen books as best as she could to make sure that I was not reading anything too age inappropriate. But that did not mean some books did not slip through the cracks.

One book that sticks out to me is Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. I had loved the musical Wicked for as long as I could remember and my mom, I assume thinking that it would be just like the show, gave me the book at the ripe age of 11. Let us just say that, the horror I felt reading it has stuck with me all these years.

I never finished the book, did not even get that far because well it mysteriously disappeared. Was it my mom realizing the book she had given me, my very religious catholic school teacher, or me just misplacing it? The world may never know but what I do know is that I did not look very hard for it.

[fluffandpoops-blog]

Wanna Become An Advanced Reader & Read The Dead Shadow First?

If you know a writer or if you are one yourself, then you are probably familiar with Advanced Reader Copies. Those are the copies that are sent to the first readers, even before the book is available for sale. An advanced reader is crucial to helping the book reach out the right target audience and find its readers. As it happens, we are now at a stage where we can finally start looking for…

[solmire]

Cockslut!reader is always beside Satoru.

He is the one, who is trying to hide from you, from your filthy mouth and a little pussy which doesn’t know how to stop and always eager to feel his cum deep inside.

You don’t know how to keep your hands away from such a piece of art. If he were a lollipop you would suck and lick him like it is the last thing you could do before dying.

It’s really funny, that you still suck him off like you are gonna die in a minute and the last thing you would like to feel is his cum on your tongue with a mushroom heavy tip in your mouth.

“H-honey, please… I am empty, I can’t do-ahh-this an-nymore” Satoru was holding the edge of the table for dear life. He is going to cum for a fourth time in a row, and all you did was deepthroating his thick cock for 30 minutes.

“Baby, stop lying” you pull out his cock with a pop sound, your pupils are too dilated, too thirsty for his cock, signaling Satoru that he is not gonna make it alive. The mix of rosy cheeks and plump lips on your face was too much to handle for a poor man especially when he sees how you grope your tits with a free hand, meanwhile the right one was tightly squeezing his balls, making him cry out loud. “I knooow, that these breeding balls are full of semen and just for me”.

“No-no, i-it hurts” he is literally whimpering and pleading you to stop this torture, but the way he grabs your face with his two palms and starts roughly fuck your face tell you the opposite.

Oohhh, you love when he is turning to an animal with the only ability - fuck your face like a pocket pussy. You are not his love of his life anymore, just a stupid face to fuck and a tummy to fill with his cum.

But, is it really the problem?? You are just a loving wife, who is always ready to fulfill a marital duty.

[sh1-n0bu]

do you guys think that yautjas have like,,, their own form of social media and thirst edits and stuff? like one of the yautjas would be like:

“this is my hear me out”: shows picture of human reader after another gladiatorial combat, all messy, tired, filthy and most definitely covered in whatever blood of the creature

and the comments are either

yautja.No1: you fool, your “hear me out” is supposed to be something diabolical. like xenomorph or something

ooman_fvcker: i’m hearing you out

galacticalmenace: that ain’t a “hear me out”. that’s a “hold me back”

xeno-hater: i ain’t no damn prey but…

[mothwingwritings]

I know a lot of people like to hone in on Sylus' more dominant and teasing side, and while I do love those aspects of him what I really really love is the softer side of Sylus that he only shows to you. ♡

The Sylus that avidly listens to everything you say, drinking you in with with a dopey little grin on his face as you fill him in on everything and anything happening in your life. The Sylus that lets you decorate his chic and mature office with all the plushies you have won together from the claw machine, looking at them fondly as if they were great treasures you have scored. The Sylus that will gladly wear stupid matching kigurumi's with you in public and have fun doing it, reputation be damned. The Sylus who absentmindedly plays with your hair while you are sitting together on the couch watching a movie, sighing in contentment as his long fingers massage your scalp. The Sylus who has memorized all your favorite foods and works hard to come up with new recipes to delight you based of what he already knows you love. The Sylus who's hugs completely engulf you, squeezing and holding you like a lifeline, almost as if he's afraid to let go. The Sylus who stays glued to your side until you fall asleep each night, even though you know his day has hardly begun and he has more important things to be attending to-you always take precedence. The Sylus that wants nothing more than to see you happy and thriving, and will do whatever it takes to make that a reality.

He truly makes me weak. (╥﹏╥)

[sinnamorolly]

random freak hcs for onyyy<3 (18+, nsfw links)

rbgs much appreciated>~<!

def the type to pause mid stroke to swipe his thumb thru the cream at the base of his dick to feed it to you

fs loves breath play. he likes grabbing ur neck, but he lovesss when you choke on his dick instead. likes watching you struggle to swallow it all while you get lightheaded

makes outtttt with your pussy. and i mean he’s a EATER. thigh bites and kisses before he sucks each lip. holds u open nd his tongue doesn’t leave ur poor clit alone for at least half an hour (he likes making u squirt on his face).

this mans physique?😫his dick is already a solid 8.5in, then its fat ontop of that?????!? it took so much prep the first time he tried fucking you

and the motion match the ocean ok! he got that hip roll with the deep grind right against your cervix typa stroke. only picks up his pace and starts fucking u up when you’re close so he can fuck you thru it and give u another one

oh and donttt piss him off bc you will not be heard from for a solid 4 hours and newly in need of several maintenance appointments. he will absolutely fuck out anything yall are feeling and will make you tell him whats wrong while hes in it

if u ever let him nut inside theres just no going back. the image of your pretty pussy dripping his cum is already permanently engraved into his brain

after he’s fucked you a few times, he dont gaf abt them “too bigg” whines no more, youre just stuck taking it. in fact he usually makes a point to grab your hips and press that last inch in. and i dont suggest pushing at them abs too often, he will jus go buy some handcuffs

his favorite position is definitely upright doggy. he can watch your ass jiggle and get deep up inside you all while still being able to reach everything. he be pulling your hair so he can see your crumpled face before giving u some sloppy ass kisses mm mm mm

loves smoking w you beforee

LOVES the noises you make he could literally cum from the sound alone

how he talks to you*.<3

“mm right…..there hm?”

“ you so pretty like this baby yk that?”

“uh un take that….mhmm there you go”

“move them fuckin hands im not finna tell you again”

“fuck princess thats how you comin?”

“yeah das all you needed huh?”

“so fuckin messy”

“ mhm you gon give me another one ma?”

“who all this for baby hm? use them pretty lips n tell me”

“ yeah you can”

his playlist*.<3

Poison - Brent Faiyaz

Power Trip - J. Cole

Stay Ready - Jhene Aiko

305 - Jordan Adetunji

It Won’t Stop - Sevyn Streeter

ALL MINE - Brent Faiyaz

Coming Down - The Weeknd

Kiss It Better - Rihanna

Damage - H.E.R.

Sorrows - Bryson Tiller

Try Me - The Weeknd

N o C h i l l - PARTYNEXTDOOR

Don’t - Bryson Tiller

[humanjarvis]

whoosh!

for the sixth time this period, a folded sheet of notebook paper whizzes through the air and smacks into your body. 

the culprit? same as the first five times. 

caleb was trying to master his evol by the start of junior year, dead set on perfecting it before he drowned in assignments, sports, and college prep. practicing at home wasn’t enough, he’d said, so he’d taken to bending gravity at school now, too. 

it was a noble effort—he was the most determined teenage boy you’d ever seen. but unfortunately for you, that determination had him floating notes over to you in class every day.

today’s was a paper airplane that always flew just within your reach, pricking your neck or your arm or the back of your skull. but before you could grab it, he summoned it back to him like a boomerang. apparently, just within your reach wasn’t good enough. his aim had to be perfect, and his target was your desk.

“stop it,” you hiss the moment your math teacher turns her back. “this is why you always have to help me with my homework. you’re distracting me.”

wide, unapologetic eyes gleaming in delight, caleb shrugs. with an innocent grin, he gestures for you to turn back around so he can try again. 

but before you get the chance, an accusatory drawl stops you in your tracks.

“is there a problem here?”

“no ma’am,” caleb answers sweetly while you freeze in your seat, feeling your cheeks flame with embarrassment. “she was just makin’ sure i could see the screen over her head. it’s not as small as it used to be, you know,” he quips, earning a chorus of giggles from your classmates.

your teacher sighs in exasperation. “alright then, mr. xia. but don’t let it happen again, you two. or else i’ll have to separate you.”

shooting him one last exasperated glare, you grumble a defeated “yes ma’am” and turn your head to face the front. and for a while, class proceeds as usual—no notes, no disturbances, just complex equations on the screen ahead.

until a thin white object makes a smooth landing on your desktop, followed by a whispered “yes!” from behind you. jumping at the sudden movement, you scramble to unfold the airplane before your hawk-eyed teacher sets her sights on you again. 

and when you read the simple message scribbled on it, your heart swells despite the twitch in your eye.

you look nice today :D

[bluebeary-jay]

A promise softly sung

Astarion x f!Reader/Tav

Summary: before the battle that will decide his fate, Astarion is terrified of losing you to Cazador. you comfort him after a nightmare. (set at the beginning of act 3)

Tags: hurt/comfort, BIG angst and some fluff, poor boy doesn't believe he's deserving of love :( let's hold him until he changes his mind

Warnings: mentions of trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, memories of past abuse and torture, c*zador, being unable to move (briefly), tadpoles mention (idk if that's a trigger)

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: hiiiiiiiii my darlings <33 soo this is something else from what i usually write but i finished bg3 recently and i LOVED IT but i'm on a trip rn so in the absence of my pc i found some inner inspiration to write something again. honestly i missed writing very much but i had the biggest block for almost a year now but maybe it'll get better now that my classes are starting again and i'll be needing a distraction lmao. anyway comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and don't be shy to send in a request! and as always, happy reading!!! <3

He was there again.

Astarion loathed those hard, stone walls as much as he feared them. It was here that he once spent an entire night, having infernal script meticulously carved into his skin. It was here that he was punished every time he disappointed his master, every time he didn’t do well enough on his mission. It was here that he was reminded time and time again how worthless, pathetic and meaningless his existence was. It was here he returned in almost all of his nightmares.

But now you were here, too.

Astarion couldn’t believe this, but no matter how much he blinked or willed himself to wake up, the view before his eyes didn’t change. It was you, chained by the wrists to the ceiling where he was hanging so many times before, your toes just barely scraping the ground that was already splattered with your blood. Your clothes were ripped to shreds and cuts and bruises covered almost every inch of your skin. Astarion wanted to run up to you, to get you somewhere safe and far away from this place, but he found that he was unable to move. It wasn’t shock seizing up his limbs, but magical paralysis which he had experienced a couple of times during combat. Even though he knew it was a spell that was holding him in place, he still fought against it with all the strength he could muster – but to no avail.

Your eyes, full of tears and fear, met his briefly before you looked past him at someone else.

“Ah, my sweet, insolent boy,” whispered a voice straight from Astarion’s deepest, darkest nightmares, causing him to tense up in terror. A hand – pale, all too familiar in its deceptive tenderness – brushed his jaw from behind before grabbing his hair roughly. The vampire spawn could do nothing but watch as his head was tilted back and he came face to face with his master.

No, it can’t be… How was Cazador here? How were you here?!

“You’ve been a very bad boy, Astarion,” Cazador tutted, shaking his head. “Running away like that, not returning home for months… It’s no way to treat family, isn’t it?” Astarion felt a sharp sting of his master’s quarterstaff at his back, digging into the scars made by the same hand, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. “But I’ll forgive you… eventually. After all, you brought me this delectable treat…”

Both him and Cazador looked up at you when Astarion realized what – or rather, who – that bastard was talking about. He tried shaking his head, tried begging for him not to hurt you, but he still couldn’t move, his voice was still stuck past his throat and no word or sound came out. In the meantime, Cazador stood up, walking around his spawn to stand in front of you.

“His own survival was always the most important thing to him,” Cazador said almost pitifully, and only after a moment Astarion realized that this time, he was speaking to you. “He’s a selfish, contemptuous creature, after all. Say, did he tell you he loved you before he lured you here like so many others before you? Did he lie, swearing how much you mean to him?”

“Yes, he… he did.”

Astarion prayed to any higher being that it was just the power of another spell compelling you to say that, and not what you were really thinking. He tried to struggle against his own magical restraints, but whatever scroll or verbal command was used, it was far too powerful for the vampire to beat it with sheer willpower alone. He was helpless again – but worse than that, he was forced to watch you being at Cazador’s mercy, too, all while he couldn’t do anything to save you.

“I honestly didn’t think poor Astarion had it in him,” Cazador continued calmly, gliding gracefully around you and disappearing behind your back. Your own eyes, now full of hurt and betrayal, were trained on Astarion’s. He couldn’t turn away, but in the corner of his vision the elf saw a flash of a blade against your bare skin. “To give away one person who, for some strange reason, saw good in a filthy worm like him… But I’m so very proud of you, sweetling.” Cazador looked at him over your shoulder and licked his lips, so, so dangerously close to your neck. “You’ll live to serve me for centuries to come, and you can watch your lover take your place in my ritual… You did well, Astarion.”

No, Astarion cried in the prison of his own body, unable to reach you or to even stop Cazador from spilling lies into your ears. Not her, no, no, please–

“No!”

Cazador smiled widely and sank his teeth into your fragile neck, and you screamed, still looking at Astarion with this horrible hatred in your eyes…

“No, no, please! Take me, please, just don’t–”

“My love, it’s alright, you’re safe…”

“Stop! Please, just–!”

His body suddenly jerked painfully and his eyes shot open, darting around in confusion and trying to figure out where he was. Astarion wasn’t feeling the cold frigid air of the kennels anymore – instead his skin was almost hot, and damp from sweat, but there was something smooth and soft under his back… the sheets. He was in a bed, at an inn. Still panting heavily, he looked around, noting the details in his surroundings: the crooked chandelier, a little window with curtains drawn shut, his shirt hung neatly over the back of the chair… and your shoes right next to it.

At the memory of your battered and tortured body in Cazador’s dungeon, Astarion shot up with a belated sob, almost knocking you over in the process. Only when your warm hand left his cheek did he notice your presence. You were kneeling next to him on the mattress, expression worried and sorrowful, with the last traces of sleep just leaving the edge of your vision. His red eyes scanned your body, but there were no bruises, no cuts made by Cazador’s wretched blade, no burns on your wrists from the manacles he saw you in mere moments ago.

And there was no hatred in your gaze. Only love and care he didn’t deserve.

Astarion’s eyes filled with tears, but before he could run out of the room or hide under the bed, you opened your arms, gently offering him the solace within. And he, being the selfish, contemptuous creature that he was, didn’t deny himself what he wasn’t worthy of.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, petting his hair softly, while the other hand was – as always – mindful of the scars on his back. “It was a dream, my love. You’re safe here with us.”

His body shook with quiet sobs as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the soothing scent of your skin and your blood singing to him just beneath. He saw again before his eyes the way Cazador looked at him before he bit you, right in this place he was now so close to…

To give away one person who, for some strange reason, saw good in a filthy worm like him…

“I’m sorry,” Astarion choked out, finding his voice at last, which made you pause in your ministrations. “I’m so sorry f-for not doing anything… He…”

You were quiet for a couple of seconds, but then Astarion felt the most tender touch of your lips on the crown of his head, and he buried his face more into your chest.

“I’m here, darling,” you whispered. “Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real.”

He didn’t answer, instead lifting his arm and tentatively brushing his fingers just underneath your shirt. He didn’t feel any scars mirroring his own, but could still see the blood flowing from your back and down your legs, could still hear your painful scream… It brought fresh tears to his eyes again.

“I… I swear, I would never do that,” he attempted to explain himself, but his words came out in a pathetic sob, and he shook his head again, curling in on himself. “He– he was lying. I’d never…”

A fresh wave of tears wetted your shirt, but you didn’t seem to mind as you gently rocked him back and forth, cradling him safe in your arms. Old Astarion would probably scoff at the condescending action of being treated like an infant, but he knew better now. He still found it difficult, but with you at his side he was learning what true care and affection looked like, and how to accept it. You were always so patient with him, so gentle, never rushing or angry when he couldn’t give you the closeness and intimacy you deserved. Astarion loved that about you – even if he wasn’t ready to say it out loud just yet.

“My star…” you hesitated, but ultimately asked, “what did you dream about?”

The vampire took a shaky breath, unable to open his eyes or speak about what he saw. Instead, he called on the tadpole in his brain and nudged your mind with it, wordlessly asking for permission, which you immediately granted. There was at least one thing the tadpole was good for, he thought as you lived through the nightmare his weak, broken mind had conjured. If by the gods’ grace all of them managed to get rid of the tadpoles and survive this whole ordeal… and if by some miracle you still wanted to stay with him after all was done… Astarion knew he would have to learn how to communicate his feelings on his own. But not tonight. Not tonight.

You didn’t say anything for a long while, only continuing to hold him close to your chest. In this position he could hear the soothing beat of your heart, proving that he didn’t lead you to Cazador, that he didn’t turn you into a monster like him…

“We’re gonna kill him,” you finally said with your throat tight from emotions. “I promise you, as soon as we get to the Baldur’s Gate, we’ll find him and end him for good.”

Astarion knew what he should say – he should agree, or maybe jest that this is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said, or even argue that it’s not going to be that easy.

But all he could do right now was to continue clinging to you like a child, too afraid to face you.

“I’d never give you away,” he breathed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure you heard it, but he didn’t care. “Even if I had to suffer another two hundred years. I’d never–”

“I know, my darling,” you whispered back, and Astarion felt your own tears disappearing in his white locks. He still couldn’t believe why someone like you would waste your tears on him of all people, and it caused a new kind of pain to bloom in his chest. “And you’re not those things he told you. You’re… you’re everything to me, Astarion. Everything.”

Astarion wondered if he’d ever believe that. You proved to him time and time again that you can make anything possible, even change the worldview of someone like him… but with Cazador’s threat still looming, he didn’t have it in him to try and convince himself of your words.

Maybe after the bastard's dead, he concluded. Maybe then it’ll get easier and he can finally start becoming someone deserving of you.

You stirred slightly, breaking him out of his musings. Astarion hugged you tighter, sharply stopping you from moving away.

“Please. Don’t go.”

You just leaned back on the pillow and kissed his head gently again. Astarion felt the tension in his body melting away just a little, but the tears welled up again in his eyes.

“I won’t. Promise.”

And you kept your promise. Astarion didn’t fall asleep again, but your constant heartbeat under his cheek brought him some semblance of peace as he waited for the sun to rise. It didn’t feel right to let you care for him so much, to gift and envelop him with your love that he didn’t deserve… But it’d be even more wrong to take that choice away from you. He knew all about that, after all, and he'll be damned if he ever treats you the way he was treated.

So Astarion decided that he will let you love him and he will love you in return, for as long as you allow it.

Because, truth be told, he was nothing if not a selfish, contemptuous creature.

[honeytae]

synopsis: it’s finally time to confront the sexual tension you’ve been dancing around.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: tensions are high people, sarcasm as always but they’re cute, flirting. this is smut, so mdni. mentions of kissing, oral sex, unprotected intercourse, and vulgar language below the cut!

“you know,” you huff, kicking off your shoes and tossing them toward the couch, “this is officially the part where you either make yourself at home or awkwardly hover by the door.”

taehyung chuckles, leaning against the wall across from you. “third date me plays it cool.”

you turn, one eyebrow raised, the corner of your mouth tugging into a teasing smile. “third date you is really milking the joe cool thing. it’s kind of hot.”

tae grins and takes a step closer, not saying anything for a beat, just letting the space between you shrink. he tilts his head, smirking as you meet his gaze.

“i think you think i’m hot all the time.”

you blink at him, laughing as he tries to keep a straight face. “that didn’t even make sense,” you reply, closing your eyes as his forehead presses to yours.

he breaks down and laughs too after a moment, your mouths acting as natural magnets once you both quiet down.

the kiss isn’t cautious. it doesn’t need to be. it’s familiar and new all at once. it’s like crossing into a room you’ve been circling for weeks, finally stepping all the way in. his lips trace a trail over your neck, and you can’t help but let out a moan in response to his touch.

his grip tightens on your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies. the heat of him envelops you completely.

"you like that?" he whispers against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

you can only nod, words failing as his hands explore lower, fingers tracing the curve of your hip at a deliberately slow pace. every touch ignites something primal within you, making it impossible to think clearly.

"i need to hear you say it," he insists, teeth grazing your earlobe. the gentle bite sends shivers cascading down your spine.

"yes," you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper. "please don't stop."

he smiles against your neck, clearly pleased with your response. his fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to caress the bare skin of your stomach.

the tension between you two in this moment is electric, and as taehyung pushes up closer to you, you feel anticipation crawling up your throat.

his lips are now mere inches from your ear, and he gently grips your waist as you feel his cool breath tickling your neck.

“i’ll give you everything, but you have to tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his voice soft but tone firm. there was a slight rasp to his words, one that nearly stole all the breath from your lungs.

“i want everything,” you say, “i need you to touch me.”

he responds with a confident grin, lifting his eyebrows as he pulls his hand back from your body. he seems to hum thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “where do you want me to touch you? here?”

your eyes follow his hands as they move to your chest, cupping each breast in his large hands. you let out a shaky chuckle, raising your head to look at him again. “typical.”

tae grins, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “i promise you baby, i’m anything but typical.”

a wave of tingling excitement sweeps over you from head to toe, and you bite your lip in anticipation. his hands knead gently at your breasts through your clothing, and even that simple touch has you arching into him, desperate for more.

“so responsive,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “how will you react when i really touch you?”

his words alone make your knees weak. you reach up, threading your fingers through his soft hair, pulling him down until his lips crash against yours. the kiss is hungry, desperate — all teeth and tongue as you both pour yourselves into each other.

taehyung breaks away first, both of you breathing heavily. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust as he continues tracing over your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to cause you pleasure.

“let me see you,” he commands softly, fingers already working at the buttons of your top. one by one they come undone, revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze.

you shift your shoulders to shed the garment completely, letting it fall somewhere behind you. cool air hits your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise, but taehyung’s hands quickly return to take away the chill.

“beautiful,” he whispers to himself, eyes taking in every inch of you with appreciation. “so fucking beautiful.”

his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, and you arch into his touch, craving more.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he confesses, voice rough with need.

the vulnerability in his admission makes your heart flutter despite the heated atmosphere. you reach for him, pulling his body flush against yours once more. “i’m yours now,” you whisper against his lips.

that seems to flip a switch within him. his mouth descends on yours with renewed fervor, his hands traveling down your body leaving a flash of heat in their trail.

your breath catches as his hand travels down your lower abdomen, finally pausing between your legs. his fingers apply pressure to your sensitive clit, rubbing it through the thin fabric of your shorts. when his fingers slip beneath your panties, you moan as they tease your entrance, resting your head on his shoulder and letting soft noises melt into the material of his t-shirt.

your hips struggle to grind your swollen bud into his palm while his fingers find their way inside you. everything else seems distant as pleasure causes your eyes to roll back.

you’re brought back to earth when he hums in your ear, lifting your head to meet his inquisitive yet adoring gaze.

it appears that he asked you a question while you were floating above your own body.

“would you like to move this to my bed?” he tries again, withdrawing his hand from your pants as you nod, brain still foggy from the way his hands were on you. “yes, please.”

you’ve been in his bed plenty of times — watching a movie mid-afternoon, crashing after a boozy night — but never in this context.

as he leads you to his room, you feel butterflies swell in your stomach. when he slips his shirt off over his head, the feeling increases tenfold.

you can’t hold yourself back once his face reappears from behind his shirt, crashing your mouth to his. he hums in surprise, his tongue darting out to explore your mouth. your hands trace every bit of skin and grip the tense muscles of his arms and back.

even as he guides you backward, you remain locked together, unfazed when something — a candle, maybe? — is knocked from his bedside table, and he lays you down on the mattress.

your hands move to his head, fingers knotting through his hair as his lips move down over your neck. his lips ghost the skin there, dragging down your chest and over your stomach.

your wiggle your hips toward him as his fingers move underneath your waistband, pausing to raise his eyebrow at you in question.

“please,” you whine in response.

that’s enough for him, taking your pants and underwear and sliding them down your legs in record time.

you’re gripping his hair, hard, by the time he lowers his face between your thighs, placing light kisses to the skin there.

“fuck,” he murmured, his eyebrows furrowing as he admires you. usually you would feel exposed, but with tae, it feels oddly comfortable.

you watch him until his tongue comes out to lick into your entrance, your head falling back helplessly onto the pillow. trying to catch your breath between moaning, your jaw drops as he licks up your center, flattening his tongue on your clit.

his hands slip beneath your thighs, holding them apart so he can dive in easier. calling his name, you clench around nothing every time he flicks his tongue over your clit, heat exploding through your core when he moves down to thrust it into your entrance.

his bliss is voiced by the deep timbre of his moans vibrating against you, your fingers clenching the sheets on either side of you in ecstasy.

“fuck, tae, i’m close,” you warn, feeling the pressure mount within you fast, spiraling toward your climax.

tae moves his mouth back to suck your clit, fingers sliding back into your entrance with ease. “good,” he says, kissing your inner thigh and watching as your eyes flutter shut when he pumps his fingers in and out. “i want you to cum.”

and then his mouth is back on you, curling his fingers into you to hit all the right spots. his mouth is closed around your clit, sucking more and more and more until-

“oh my god, taehyung!”

all you see is white, and all you hear is static. your body trembles as you release around his fingers, fire shooting up your spine as you repeat his name like it’s your very own mantra.

after a moment, you pop your eyes open, electricity buzzing through you as you watch him remove his fingers from you and pop them into his mouth. the sight makes your lower half tingle back to life, oxygen making its way back to your brain.

“you okay?” he moves back up your body, surveying your post-orgasm state before pressing a soft kiss to your sweaty temple.

the tender action fully brings you back to life, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him to lay on his back.

taehyung steadies you when you roll over on top of him, steadying your jello limbs with strong hands.

“why didn’t you tell me you’re a sex god?” you ask, your genuinely bewildered expression causing him to bellow a laugh below you.

“sorry i didn’t put that on my friendship application,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows behind him to slant his lips to yours.

“i need to ask you something,” you manage to get out between kisses, prompting taehyung to pull back and meet your gaze earnestly. “could we please get your pants off?”

taehyung rolls his eyes, smiling, as he complies with your request. he watches your reaction, seemingly seeing right through your facade.

his legs are some of the most sculpted you’ve ever seen, thighs practically inviting you to sit on them, his boxer briefs fitting snugly as your gaze travels to the bulge pressing against the fabric-

“like what you see?”

he smirks as you drag your eyes up his body, but immediately falters when your hand sneaks under the waistband of his boxers.

“obviously,” you simper, watching attentively as his eyelids fall lower over his eyes, pushing his hips up into your touch. you move your hand down, gradually, sweeping over his warm skin.

when you wrap your fingers around his cock, his eyes fall completely shut, cursing as his chin hits his chest. as you start stroking him up and down with your fist, he groans, watching as your hand comes out to pull his underwear all the way off.

your mouth waters as his length bobs up against his stomach, using your hand to guide it to your lips. at the first kitten lick you give his tip, you feel him throb in your hand.

“fucking killing me,” he mumbles, moaning as you start sucking on his tip in response. the volume of his voice rises as you take him further into your mouth, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head as your tongue glides over the underside of his cock.

you feel a fresh wave of desire pour over you as he moans your name, his hips stuttering when you take him to the back of your throat.

“where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he whines, swallowing thickly as you stifle a laugh, the vibrations stimulating him even more.

“nevermind, don’t answer that,” he says, groaning deep and guttural while clenching your hair in his hand. “you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

the tug he gives to your hair has you moaning on him, the final push for him to hit his climax. he tries to warn you, attempting to guide you off him with a desperate tapping of his fingers to the back of your shoulder.

instead, you refuse to move, sliding your mouth up his cock so that the tip rests on your tongue. your eyes pierce his in a silent dare, a breathless, whiny “fuck,” sounding from above before you taste his orgasm, taking him for all he’s worth.

when you come up for air, you note two things: for one, your jaw aches, but the good kind of ache. secondly, you’ve never been more turned on in your life.

it’s surreal to have taehyung like this. skin glowing with sweat, eyes trying to focus on you as he comes down from his high.

wordlessly, tae extends his arms, reaching for you with his eyes closed. you crawl up his body, straddling his hips as you lay your chest down flat on his. you can feel his ragged breathing, soothing your nails over the skin of his chest, resting your forehead on his moist skin.

he mumbles something you can’t hear, so you lift your head and ask him to repeat himself.

“you,” he breathes, “you are the sex goddess.”

despite rolling your eyes, you still lean in to kiss him again, laughing into his mouth at first but dissolving into him when he dips his tongue into your mouth in a slow but deliberate motion.

he tastes himself, while you taste yourself, your hips rocking into his on their own accord.

“i wanna be inside you, can i do that?” he asks, meeting your eager nod with a chaste kiss to your lips.

“condoms are in the drawer,” he points at his far away dresser, a warm laugh leaving him as you frown.

“i’m clean, and i trust you. if you’re uncomfortable with it, though, i can get up,” you shrug, and before you can lift yourself from his lap, he holds your thighs with a strong grip.

“don’t you dare get up. i trust you with my life, you dummy,” he huffs, his tone being just hot enough to make you lower yourself to his lips in another soft, open-mouthed kiss.

he moves to roll you over onto your back, confusion washing over his face as you stubbornly sit on his thighs.

“ah, ah, ah,” you tut, laying a hand down on his abs to keep him planted where he is. you watch the look of realization wash over his face before you feel his cock twitch against your leg.

“haven’t you ever heard that expression?” you ask, taehyung barely keeping his eyes open as you stroke him to full hardness again in your hand.

“which one?”

“save a horse, ride a cowboy,” you grin, tae barely having a second to react before you guide him inside you, delicious heat spreading throughout your lower abdomen.

when he bottoms out, he exhales the shaky breath he was holding, his hands soothing over your hips as he lets you adjust to him.

you feel full, his tip kissing the furthest spot inside you. you gasp when you shift back to sit on his thighs and he hits your special spongy spot, tae responding with an airy noise of his own at the way your muscles clench around him.

after another moment, you lift yourself up before dropping back down on him, and both of you are equally stunned by the instant rush of pleasure, crying out in unison.

you release a loud moan as he plants his feet on the bed, determinedly pushing into you from below, an aching pleasure swelling between your legs.

he shifts the angle of his hips, and his sharp movements are precise, hitting your sweetest, deepest spots. the euphoric sensation flows out across your entire body, sweat forming on your brow.

“right there, tae,” you gasp, the man humming beneath you in concentration. you start shifting your hips into him, aiding him in his efforts.

your head falls to the side, bodies rocking together with each thrust. “yeah, that’s it. good fucking girl,” he groans, and you involuntarily clench around him at his praise. when his hand possessively cups your ass, you look down to find the man smirking at you.

“hmm, so you like that?” he murmurs, a deep groan leaving him as your walls tighten around him even more in response at his husky tone.

“just shu- shut up,” you whine, watching as taehyung sits up a bit to take one of your nipples into his mouth. pleasure mounts within you as he sucks, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core.

“faster, go faster, baby,” you answer, moaning as he flips you over onto your back, popping off your chest to increase his speed with fast, powerful movements.

you close your eyes while he takes control, your body alight with burning passion.

dripping with sweat, you and taehyung look at one another, gazing into each other’s eyes. at this point, you are swelling with pleasure.

the feeling intensifies when taehyung’s hips stutter into yours, his loudest sounds yet leaving his mouth as you card your fingers through his soft hair.

you feel him twitch inside you, squeezing your muscles around him and he gasps your name. slamming his hand down on the mattress, you cry out at the feeling of his warmth spreading inside you.

you feel yourself spiral into another orgasm, feeling weak yet blissful as taehyung drops his forehead to yours. he runs his fingers up and down your arms, soothing your skin as you both try to catch your breath.

minutes later, you are wrapped up in his arms, chests pressed together as you lay on your sides. you look at him in comfortable silence, trying to memorize every aspect of him.

that is, until he snorts. loudly.

you giggle as he hides his laugh behind his hand, amused confusion contorting your face as you watch him. “what?”

he takes a moment to gather himself, running a hand through his hair as he exhales. “sorry. it’s just, we just had sex and it’s like, surreal,” he confesses, meeting your eyes as you smile at him.

“hm,” you agree, “worth the wait?”

you chuckle as his cheeks flush a dark shade of pink, smirking as you inch closer to him.

“so worth it.”

[snailpebbles]

Simple Misunderstanding- OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Best Friend! reader

Summary: You couldn't both be this stupid right..? Oscar is telling you you're dating, but he never even asked you out.

Pure fluff, absolute idiots in love <3

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

You and Oscar have been best friends since highschool when he (not surprisingly) was on the verge of failing Physics from missing so many tests. Since those tutoring sessions you've been inseparable.

You've always had a thing for him, which you would deny until your death that hopefully takes place beside him, Bicentennial Man style. The problem is.. he's a world famous Formula One driver and you're what? Still studying for your degree? No, you could never deserve this sweetheart of a man. Even if you style his hair most days and he rubs your back to help you fall asleep. Just friendly things.

Now we're brought to your current predicament.

"What're you doing..?" Oscar mumbles out in confusion as you begin to lift your head from where it rested on his chest. You freeze on the spot, peering up at him from below his chin.

"Uhm.. getting up?" You whisper for no real reason, suddenly feeling like a caught child. Oscars eyebrows furrow and he pushes your head back down while muttering a quiet yet firm 'no'.

"Wha- what do you mean 'no'?" You scoff, feeling more akin to an annoyed teen now. You go to lift yourself up properly but now his arms, previously wrapped around your waist and rubbing your back, are anchoring you down.

"Stay." He simply says, his eyes closing as he plans to return to his half asleep state. Those plans are interrupted as your hands wiggle down to tickle his sides. He yelps and releases you on instinct, which you take as a chance to launch out of bed.

"What are you doing??" Oscar groans, groggily sitting up now with a petulant pout. You return the question, hands on your hips as you stare at his sleepy form.

"I'm trying to cuddle my girlfriend." Oscar huffs, crossing his very muscular arms. Silence stretches between the two of you, making Oscar actually open his eyes fully to take in your extremely shocked expression.

"What's that look for?" He asks, reaching for your right hand in a need to hold some part of you. You let him as you're still trying to understand what exactly he just said and if he's on drugs.

"Girlfriend?" You choke out, your mind going a million miles per hour as you sputter, matching your racing heart. Oscar raises his eyebrow at you like you're an idiot.

".. Yes. You're my girlfriend? For quite some time now?" He chuckles, standing up now. His arms wrap back around your waist as he smiles fondly at you, you. Are you dreaming? Maybe your heart is giving out.

"Since uh, since when am I your girlfriend?" You stammer in disbelief, his expression shifting to mirror yours. His head tilts in confusion, squinting at you.

"Did you hit your head or something?" He murmurs, lifting a hand to jokingly check your scalp for any bumps. By this point you must be burning up with how warm you feel.

"We're not dating." You manage to get out finally, Oscars hand pausing mid caress. It slides down to cup your cheek, his mouth now downturned.

"Yeah we are- we've been together for months now." Oscar shrugs, squishing your face in his hands. He shakes your head side to side and you laugh, placing your hands over his as you ask what he's doing.

"Trying to shake those screws back into place." He teases, rolling his eyes.

"I think I should be doing that to you. You've never asked me out before, so where did this come from?" You chuckle, not able to feel that stressed in his presence and especially not when he's cradling you like you're a precious diamond. (Which to him, you are). Oscar laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

".. I have to ask??" He mumbles, making you snort in laughter. Your head drops, forehead pressed to his shoulder as your own shake in silent giggles. Oscars face, neck, and ears are bright red at this point as he stammers, trying to save face.

"Yes! You have to ask! How did you even think otherwise?" You snicker, rolling your eyes affectionately at your oblivious boy. Oscar smiles in embarrassment, looking off to the side. Though it isn't long before his eyes are drawn back to the irresistible sight in front of him. You're practically glowing with an unrealized joy, your subconscious recognizing your returned feelings.

"I just assumed cause you- well-" He sighs, groaning at his own stupidity. A grin spreads across your face and you tap his cheek, bringing his focus out of his head.

".. I don't know." He finally admits, pout returning full force. It's a beautiful sight to see the typically stoic or calm Oscar looking so flustered, just for you. It sends a thrill down your spine that you're quickly becoming addicted to.

"We've never kissed or had sex, or honestly anything besides cuddling!" You exclaim, very glad to have such fantastic teasing and blackmail material that will last you years to come. Just wait until Lando finds out.

"I thought you wanted to take it slow, so I never initiated anything." Oscar explains, his cheeks a delicious shade of red. You have to take a moment to appreciate the sight and snap out of the daze it puts you in.

"Well how about you ask me out then now, hm?" You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek that short circuits his brain and yours. The goofiest grin spreads across his face and he drops to one knee, grasping your hand in his.

"Will you, my dearest love, do the honor of allowing me to be your boyfriend?" Oscar asks dramatically, taking a moment to swoon. Seeing him at such an angle, regardless of his stupidity, you still need to drink in the sight of the brunette boy on his knees. For you. Asking you out after years of pining.

God it is beautiful.

"Hmm.. yeah, sure." You shrug, feigning nonchalance even though you're internally squealing. Oscar stands up, putting his hands on his hips in a sassy display. He grins, a mischievous grin which you quickly realize is not something you wanna see.

"Oscar no-" Your sentence barely gets out before you're tackled on the bed, face being peppered by soft kisses. It tickles, giggles erupting from your lips as he murmurs incoherently against your skin. You're a mess of limbs, your leg is already going numb, and you've never been happier as your hands inch up to play with his hair.

"You're missing." You manage to say in between giggles and over the top kissing noises from the boy on top of you. He finally relents, holding himself up on his forearm beside your head.

"Oh really? Wanna show me where to go?" Oscar murmurs, his breath fanning across your awaiting lips. You mumble some teasing jab about boys always needing directions, making him tickle your sides to shut you up.

"Okay, okay I give up!" You laugh, pushing at his hand. He stops tickling you and as soon as you've caught your breath, his lips are on yours. They're warm, slightly chapped, and oh so perfect. He kisses like you're the finest food on Earth and it's his last meal. Both of your heads feel fuzzy as you pull away for some air, noses bumping and mutual giggles filling the silence.

"So.. wanna go back to sleep?" You suggest, the very short yet aggressive emotional rollercoaster exhausting you once more. Oscar nods eagerly, head collapsing to rest in your neck where he occasionally kisses the skin his lips can reach. A warm feeling spreads over you as you tug the blanket across your tangled bodies, dozing off into the most restful sleep of your life.

[erwinsvow]

GOT WHAT YOU WANTED

summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.

now spinning: too many nights by metro & future

word count: 11.5k

warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)

truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry. 

it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs. 

those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.

to jj that is. 

you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.

jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you. 

“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this. 

“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire. 

jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.

“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.

“other.. boy?”

“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.

“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”

“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”

“no. it didn’t come up.”

“ah. got it.”

“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.

“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.

you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.

“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”

“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”

“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve. 

and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.

but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it. 

you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder. 

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”

“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you. 

“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.

“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.

“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it. 

it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.

“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”

“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.

“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”

“guys-”

“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”

“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”

“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.

“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj. 

whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.

“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”

“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”

“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.

“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”

“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.

“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.” 

“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.

“yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t.”

“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.

“no, she’s not.” 

“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”

“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”

“no you fuckin’ don’t.”

“who are you to tell me-”

“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”

you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.

“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”

“what else do you want me to say, huh?”

“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”

“m’not ignoring anything-”

“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”

“shut up.”

“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”

“what? what do you want?”

“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”

“don’t talk like that.”

“rafe.” 

exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you. 

that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet. 

you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with. 

the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.

rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.

“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out. 

you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.

“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.

“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.

“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”

“is that your way of apologizing?”

“it’s not an apology.”

“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“i didn’t.”

“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”

rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.

“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.

“thanks rafe.”

“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window. 

“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.

“kid.” 

“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.

“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.

“but you get to do it?” 

“that’s different-”

“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.

“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”

“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”

“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”

“rafe. shut up.”

“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea  you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”

“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”

“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”

“rafe?” “yeah?”

“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.

“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”

“goodbye, rafe.” 

you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.

sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality. 

then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you. 

key word: maybe.

the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement. 

maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.

you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.

.☘︎ ݁˖

rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him. 

“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”

“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.

“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.

“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”

“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.

“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.

“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”

“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”

“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”

“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”

“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”

“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.

“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”

“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.

“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.” 

“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.

he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped. 

when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning. 

you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.

if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you. 

kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.

“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.

“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.

“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water. 

“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”

“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.

“then shut up ‘bout it.”

“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.

when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.

“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you. 

the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.

“yeah. i guess i am.”

you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.

“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.

“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”

“you need a ride?”

“no, i drove here, remember?” 

“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”

“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 

sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.

“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.

“talk about it? talk about what?”

“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”

“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.

“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.

“oh my god-”

“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.

“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”

“what? your mom let me in.”

“you didn’t even text-”

“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”

“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”

“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.

“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.

“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”

“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.

“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”

“oh.”

“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.

“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.

“what about that girl?”

“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”

“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”

“oh. okay. promise?”

“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.

“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.

“alright. get on the bed.”

“rafe-”

“what? i just said-”

“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”

“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”

“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”

“ha-ha. get on the bed.”

“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”

“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”

you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe. 

you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head. 

the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.

rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.

“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”

“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.

“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.

he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.

“you wearin’ anything under this?” 

he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no. 

“good girl.” 

your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties. 

you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.

“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”

before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.

“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!” 

“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”

you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.

you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you. 

rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers. 

“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand. 

limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.

“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?

“nothin’.” 

“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”

“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.

“what?” 

“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea. 

he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to. 

“god, you’re such a boy.”

“shut up.” 

“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.

“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.

“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.

“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.

“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”

“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away. 

you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.

you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.

he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder. 

your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.

with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours. 

you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.

he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy. 

rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.

“you didn’t last very long.” 

“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”

“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”

“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.

“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay. 

you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry. 

“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest. 

“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”

“your parents are downstairs, remember?”

“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.

“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”

“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”

“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.

“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes. 

“why? got nowhere else to be.”

“oh. okay.”

“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”

“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.

“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.

and the part where you slept with your best friend.

a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.

top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere

kelce: maybe princess finally killed him

top: stop hanging out without us

kelce: top lets just pull up next time

you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.

“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.” 

“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”

“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”

rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.

“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”

you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.

“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”

rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.

“you wanna say that again?”

“uhh-”

“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”

“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”

“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.

“get out!”

“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”

“okay! wait, stay.”

“s’what i thought.”

“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.

“you woke me up.” 

“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”

“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.

“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.

“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone. 

about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.

you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.

but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it. 

with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not. 

after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead. 

the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.

“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.

“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”

“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.

“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”

“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”

“you too. tell them i say hi.”

the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.

you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you. 

you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.

“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.

“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.

“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”

“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.

“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”

“thanks top.” 

you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top. 

walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.

it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on. 

“hey.”

“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”

“yeah.”

“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”

“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.

“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”

“yeah, i did.”

“i just hope they’re sweet.”

“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”

“it’s a great day. good weather.” 

“you already said that.”

“oh.”

“would you stop and look at me?”

“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.

“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.

“i’m fine.. are you okay?”

“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”

“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”

“you were on board-”

“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”

“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.

“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”

“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.

“why are you being so nice about it?”

“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”

“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”

“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”

“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”

“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”

“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.

“you’re starin’.”

“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”

“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”

turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.

from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.

“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.

“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”

you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear. 

he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.

“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.

“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”

“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck. 

“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away

“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.

“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.

your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.

you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.

“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.

“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.

“fun. what time?”

.☘︎ ݁˖

finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.

“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.

“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat. 

you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.

topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now). 

you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.

inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks. 

the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.

“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.

“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.

“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.

he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands. 

if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.

“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.

he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.

“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.

“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot. 

he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.

“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.

“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”

“but i made the last one!”

“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”

“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.

for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.

“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.

“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”

“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you. 

“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.

“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer. 

“alright, you’re cut off.”

the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him. 

you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.

“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”

“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.

“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.

“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.

“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch. 

you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.

this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are. 

rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.

“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”

“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.

“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”

“man, why am i always on top watch-”

in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.

“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.

kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now. 

“enough. why?”

“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.

“you saw me?”

“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.

“what, you jealous, kid?”

“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.

“no, m’not.” 

you bite your cheek and stare out the window. 

“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.

tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.

you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.

you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?

grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.

“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.

“the couch.”

“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”

“i’m starting something new.”

“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.

you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.

“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.

rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.

“what the hell was that?”

“this whole thing was a mistake.”

“it’s been two days.”

“well i’m an emotional fuck!”

“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.

“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?” 

“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”

“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”

“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”

“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?” 

in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.

or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.

the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you. 

you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.

and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.

“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”

“you should have just confessed.”

“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”

“it’s been two days,” you mock.

“yeah, well, we tried it.”

“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.

“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”

“so if we break up-”

“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”

“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”

“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”

“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”

[kanescrochet]

with Simon it's never been big gestures or cute dates. You know he cares, he just shows it by making sure your favorite snacks never run out keeeping your favorite pop stocked in the fridge and warm just in case your teeth feel sensitive to cold at any point. Its the notes under a glass of water at your bedside table when you wake up and he had to leave before you got up. It's ibuprophen when you have cramps. He might not show his love the way you expected but he goes above and beyond in his own ways making you feel loved with all the little things that you never expected to make a difference if someone else did them for you

[niccolites]

one of the requests i received from the lovely @crazyweirdnoodles about meeting one or some of the 141 on holiday. bc u said ur going to scotland (period) i am thinking soap for this one

johnny who clocks you as a tourist immediately, catches you staring at your phone to figure out what way you're meant to be going. staring at all the plaques next to statues that the locals don't bother to look at

you look like a sweet thing, so when you duck into a nearby pub, he follows his gut as he does with most things, and follows you inside. slides up next to you at the bar and offers to buy you your first proper drink in scotland, on him. (you've been in scotland for a few days now, but it feels rude to point out now)

he's charming, in the way that, excited dogs are charming. it's endearing, watching someone be so enraptured by you even as he barely lets you get a word in, jabbers on about how he'll be taking over your tour of the town, show you all the real highlights, a real local insight

oh, is he from around this area? no, he beams back, and you forgot to follow up with your confusion when he places a warm palm on your thigh

he was right, you are such a sweet thing, only a couple of drinks in and your letting him tug you into the bathroom and bolt the door shut. letting him slip his hand down the front of your panties and pant into the flesh of your neck

he's army he had told you, chest puffed up as he tried to impress you (and succeeded). you feel it as you cling to his arms and there is no give in the muscle there. dig your nails in and feel the teeth of his grin on the soft skin beneath your jaw.

there's a beat after he makes you come after he had three fingers curled into you and a thumb mean on your clit, and he's tugging down the zip of his trousers. you tell him you don't normally do this, and his ego swells until it suffocates the room

just for him, eh, lovey? he locks his arms around the backs of your knees and lifts until he slides inside you with a groan that's so loud you have to slap a hand around his mouth. he slobbers on your palm and god if that does make you shudder anyway

he's so filthy, running his mouth about your sweet tits, how tight your cunt is, begging you to let him come in you. it's a flush all the way down to the centre of you, white hot, shameful but still causing a pulse to run through you

fucks you against the door of the bathroom, ignoring the pounding on the other side from an angry staff member. too caught up in the flush your cheeks, the sweet part of your mouth as he fills it with his moans, drool slipping down your chins

his brain feels like static when you let him come in you, every muscle tensing and then unfolding until he is around the shape of you. his mouth pressed against the hairline of your temple. the first time he has touched someone there

pulls away from you with a mournful noise, already trying to plan how to get back inside you. rights himself and watches as you try to sort your appearance out to not look like you've just been fucked in a bathroom

takes your hand and guides you out. what a gentleman, glares at anyone who is looking at you (which is the entire pub). you think it's to defend your honour in some strange way, actually soap is almost rabid at the thought of anyone else hearing how sweetly you moan when you took his cock

he still offers you that tour, and you take it (he doesn't tell you that this is the thinnest excuse he has to get you to fuck him in his car, off the nature trail or in another pub again. if you both aren't banned from the entire town by the end of your visit, he's decided he is the worst guide)

[sungbeams]

WIP DUMP

okay so this is lowkey inspired by @jayparked posting about her wips a bit ago (check them out here she's crazy talented and i can't wait to read them all) and since i've been struggling with writing recently i thought maybe sharing some of my wips could help. also biggest thanks to snail for helping me with the synopses for some of these and listening to me stress over the banners and everything

if you want to talk to me about any of them or wanna get tagged pls don't hesitate to send asks or comment on this post, i'd love to talk about them some more🥺❤️

MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs !! POSTED !!

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)

⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 6k

they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?

(i'm well aware the hype around tipsy heeseung has already died down but i started writing this immediately after the pics dropped and then got hit by writers block so i'm dedicated to finish this)

!! more under the cut !!

HE HATES ME, HE HATES ME NOT — psh

⟡ ┆ featuring. sunghoon x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, enemies to lovers, coworker AU, miscommunication (ikik), lowkey past fuckboi sunghoon

⟡ ┆ warnings. hate sex, semi-public sex (in an archive room?), protected and unprotected sex (there's several smut scenes), choking, spanking, degradation, praise kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjob, fingering, manhandling, overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 20k

park sunghoon hates you, and you hate him. it hadn't always been like that, when you first joined the company he works at he was friendly, a real gentleman, but over time of working together he turns cold, sometimes even downright mean, and you cannot for the life of you figure out what caused the sudden change in his behavior. however, things between you change yet again when you 'accidentally' get locked in your offices archive room.

HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college!au, friends to lovers

⟡ ┆ warnings. there's some talks of depression as well as unhealthy coping mechanism so be aware of that pls, protected sex (be proud of me okay), oral (f. and m. receiving), vanilla af, neither of them are virgins or inexperienced but they just having sex for the first time together after realizing they've been in love with each other for years :')

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 14k

"distance makes the heart grow fonder." is no longer just a cliche saying. heeseung decided to follow his dreams, but doing so lead him to a different city, leaving you behind. no other friends, no hobbies to keep yourself busy, and no motivation to keep going, the only thing keeping you on some sort of routine is attending your college classes that your parents force you to go to. just when you're about to officially quit and give up, heeseung shows up out of nowhere and manages to pull you out of your slump, upturning your whole friendship in the process.

NATURAL REMEDY — pjs

⟡ ┆ featuring. jay x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, physical therapist!reader, patient!jay, probably hipaa violations idk just don't do this irl basically

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), body worship (jay receiving bc he deserves someone to tell him or handsome he is), handjob, lots of oil, lowkey massage kink idek what to call this??

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 5k

when jay hurts his knee while goofing around with his friends, his doctor recommends rest and physical therapy. lucky for him, your office is just around the corner, just that neither of you can make good on the ordered rest by doctor.

HEALTHY COMPETITION — lhs + sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader x jake

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college au, non-idol au, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), no romance just fucking

⟡ ┆ warnings. basically no plot, threesome (duh), protected and unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, spanking, oral (m. and f. receiving), multiple rounds, manhandling, they make it a competition to see who can make her moan the loudest...

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 9k

your roommates bickering should be nothing but white noise to you at this point, but when they both rope you into their little argument of who fucks better things take an interesting turn and a welcomed distraction from studying is provided.

SNEAKY LINK — sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. jake x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, uni AU, frat boy jake (i'm sorry), friends with benefits but no one knows, alcohol consumption (they're not drunk and both consenting !!)

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex (it's a theme for me atp, don't do this irl pls), dry humping, fingering (it's jake come on now), kinda rushed sex ig, does it count as exhibitionism when they fuck in a spare bedroom idk, oral (f. receiving), breast play

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 4k

frat parties usually weren't your thing, but when your best friend invites you (with the intention to be her wingwoman) you're not one to let her down. that is until you run into jake, whom you've been fooling around with without anyone knowing ...

© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[tearsofastraeax]

cw: ooops i might hafe felt a lil angsty, please don't hate me, also sorry in advance

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

your heart beat heavily in your chest as you stepped up to the bar the 141 usually hung out in after returning from their missions. the pit in your stomach had been sitting there for 3 weeks now, ever since you had that fight with simon. the whole way to the bar you had tried to convince yourself it wasn't as bad as you thought that you were just being your typical overthinking self, that he didn't hate you and it was just a stupid old fight, nothing to worry about. no, not at all. he would be excited to see you barge in through the doors and welcome you with open arms. after all, you haven't seen each other for a while now.

as you stared down at the street, your feet slowly carrying you towards your destination, you tried to remember what you had even fought about. it was some stupid misunderstanding, but simon had been so agitated, you were at a loss, couldn't get a second in to explain yourself.

"just go, please. i'm so done with hearing your excuses", he had muttered for the third time. 

and while you were desperate enough to try again the first two times, your self-respect was still intact enough for you to take the hint. so you had left. 

you were only able to contact him again days later, right before he had to leave on his mission. back then all he had said was for you to not worry about it.

and you had tried. you had tried your best. but the worries were eating you alive, so much so that you decided to surprise him. or ambush him? did he even want you there? was he excited to see you?

before you knew it, you arrived at the bar. your eyes frantically searching for the guys through the window, hoping to get a feel of the situation before you just barged in.

and there they were, gaz and soap laughing about one thing or the other, beers in their hand and standing close to price, who was as calm and collected as ever, as he sat on one of the bar stools, nursing on his pint.

but what made your heart skip a beat, your stomach fill with a heavy stone, weighing you down, and your hands getting clammy by just the sight of it, was simon. who so very casually leaned against the bar, a beer in the one hand and the other wrapped around some pretty blonde thing, that cozied up into his side and giggled at his jokes and remarks.

you weren't sure you could even belief your eyes. was this actually happening to you? was he that done with you? had you been too dumb to catch on to him wanting to break up with you? what had happened to the 'it's always gonna be you'? what had happened to the 'you're my calm'?

your stomach turned around at what you saw. your heart heavy and empty. a cold nausea drifted through your body like you had never experienced before.

and then his eyes met yours.

[misteria247]

Frank could admit to his supposed flaws. Out of all the neighbors, he was the one who was the most prickly, so to speak. He went with logic rather than feelings and was the polar opposite of his best friend Julie. He could admit that his snippy personality could make him difficult to be around. That it could make him unapproachable to some. Yet he wasn't an unreasonable man or puppet. But at the moment.....

'I'm gonna start killing people.'

The grey puppet thought briefly as he grounded his teeth to not get into an argument. Praying to any deity out there to give him some patience. To spare his last nerve that was on its last leg. Across from him was Barnaby, the large blue dog puppet looking just as annoyed despite his easy-going grin.

"I just don't think it's a good idea exposing us."

The larger male said his tone lazy but firm. Frank took a deep breath, reminding himself that Barnaby was only thinking about the others. Just like himself.

"We can't keep this hidden forever. Sooner or later (Y/N) is gonna find out about us. And I think it'd be wise if we eased them into this rather than spring it on them."

Frank explained, trying to get Barnaby to see what he was saying. Just as he'd been trying to in vain to get him to see for the past two days.

"And what makes you think that we can trust (Y/N)?"

Howdy piped up, ever the question asker as much as a salesman. His eyes were narrowed a bit, staring Frank down. The smaller puppet wasn't phased, but he didn't respond. He didn't know how to convey that just from watching you for these past few weeks, he'd just got this gut feeling that you were trustworthy. Not in a way that was the logical manner that he was known for.

"Because they've been fixing us up! Despite all the bumps and road blocks, (Y/N) has done nothing but put us first! If they're willing to fix us old puppets, then I'm sure they're trustworthy!"

Julie chimed in, speaking Frank's thoughts exactly.

"I mean, look at my dress! My hair! Eddie's mailbag and Poppy's feathers! For goodness sake, they'd cleaned you up Howdy! And they just finished Frank's vest!"

The chipper puppet explained, holding the end of her red dress to show your handy work. The tears and holes that once littered the skirt were now patched up with adorable flower styled patches that were sewed on and ironed on. Some of them looked a bit bad, but they were stable enough to stay in place until you could figure out how to make them look better. Yet it was clear that they were done with care. And you'd gotten quite a few burns and pricks from trying to fix it. Poppy, who'd been quiet, jumped a bit, her feathers looking much better since their arrival to your home.

'Countless hours spent preening and fixing those feathers.'

Frank noted remembering how long it'd taken you to get the worst ones out.

"Julie darling....just because they fixed us doesn't mean that they're trustworthy with this."

Sally replied, sounding like she was exhausted and uninterested. The actor was next to Poppy, looking rather unimpressed with Julie's arguments.

"Now, now, let's not fight, please. This is a discussion, not an argument."

Poppy said, ever, the motherly one, as she sensed the possibility of an argument brewing. Julie, who had opened her mouth to reply, closed it, and Sally just sighed, not commenting.

"Well.....I don't know about you and Ms. Starlet, but I agree with Mr. Frankly and Ms. Joyful. (L/N) has been nothing but thoughtful. I think if we just explained, they'd understand."

Eddie, who hadn't really given his stance, put in. Frank looked at the larger mailman, who was nervous but steady in his words. Not wanting to stare too long, he quickly looked away.

"This could end badly if we tell them, you three realize this, right??"

Howdy asked his tone, judging.

"Howdy is onto something, pal. I'm not saying that (Y/N) is a bad person, but they're not him. Humans aren't always nice."

Barnaby threw in, looking a bit regretful at Julie and Eddie's expressions falling. Poppy and Sally didn't say anything else, but by their expressions, they were taking Barnaby and Howdy's words into consideration. Frank wanted to tear his hair out because he understood where they were coming from. He knew humans sometimes were not kind, especially to people or things who were different. But he couldn't give up. Something within him just couldn't let himself completely agree.

Not after watching you fix and clean them. Not after having you talk to him, always friendly save for when you were tired from work and other things. Not after watching you burn, cut, and prick your fingers and hands so much just to make them look better. Everything you did, it just screamed kindness. He wanted to give you a chance to be eased into this, not be taken by surprise.

You deserved that much, at least.

Frank steeled himself to again argue his, Julie, and Eddie's case on trusting you when a voice spoke up.

"No, they're not him. (Y/N) won't ever be him, but........they have his kindness. They've spoken to us and treated us like living beings. I think.....that they can be trusted."

Wally, who had been silent the entire time, had caused them all to quiet down and look at him. The smaller yellow puppet was calmly sitting on your armchair, a thoughtful expression on his face. Frank could see the others' expressions becoming resigned despite their displeasure. While Julie and Eddie perked up immediately at another one of their group agreeing.

"Wally buddy...."

Barnaby started to say, but Wally looking at him with a head tilt, quietly listening to his best friend, made him stop. The dog puppet just gave a sigh, knowing that Wally wasn't one to put his opinion in unless he was sure. And trying to change his mind was futile.

"I don't like this. You better think of a plan on how to do this, Frank..."

Barnaby said, gaze boring into him. Frank just thinned his mouth, meeting it head on.

"I always have a plan, Barnaby. I'm a bit offended you'd think otherwise."