#enjoy this quick pic of him

[cannibalcreepers]

Hey is Hog single? I'm asking for a friend ;)

Depends what age Hog you want, he gets a wife called Nina when he's 46 and she will fight anyone who'll try for him. So Hog aged 18-45 is very much single and ready to mingle

[jessamine-rose]

*gasp* It's me ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

🍵 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝒟ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒯? ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚: A Yandere!H:SR x Reader Otome Game

✧ romanceable characters (© hoyoverse): Professor Veritas Ratio, "Your friend" Kakavasha, and "Gallagher" [for now]

✧ content warning: yandere themes, mentions of racial/species discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), (y/n) uses they/them, the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC & Mac AND online play for any devices, though download is preferable to avoid pixellated graphics & misaligned textboxes)

You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...

☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular,

☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two;

☕ or Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?

☕ or are there two more you're forgetting?

... so...

𝒲𝐻𝒪 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉?

Please support this game by reblogging the post & sending asks/comments! I put a lot of time and effort writing, drawing, and learning to code for this. Thank you so much, my beloved yandere!H:SR community and of course, @dreamjolt-hostelry, for being supportive friends!!! - @beloved-brynn

✧ Characters, Background Art and UI Credits

Hoyoverse assets sourced from the-astral-express-archive. I just tweaked em a bit!

Canva freestock images... Haha...

✧ Intro video, sprites & CG art Credits

Me!!! Hi <3 I hope you enjoyed them! I can't believe yall made me learn adobe after effects a bit for this-

✧ Music Credits

The main menu theme (the first song upon booting the game) is made by @naraven!

The rest of the royalty free music soundtrack (such as the music used for the video above) is sourced from Vodovoz Music Productions!!! Please show the creator some love!!! I was actually vibing so hard while listening to them lmao

✧ (Fan)Story

lol hi again!!! man. i feel like Argenti.

If you wish to support my work and want to see more of this in the future, please buy me a coffee! So I can at least prove to my parents that my work is at least worth one dollar ;;;;

[twisted-broth]

Their Favorite Place to Kiss You

Characters: Cater, Trey, Leona, Rook, Vil, Idia, Lilia, Malleus, Rollo, Chenya

Genre: fluff, suggestive (Minors DNI)

Happy Valentines Day!

Cater loves a quick peck on the cheek! It always makes for the best pic when he can catch off guard and capture your expression of delighted surprise. Every time he can manage to draw a joyful giggle from your lips, he swears he can die a happy man. And it's really your own fault for having such a photogenic reaction

Trey likes to kiss you on the jaw, just below your ear. He argues that it's the best position for him to experience every aspect of your reaction. He can feel the heat on his lips from your blush, see your eyes widen, and hear your soft gasp all at once. His favorite thing to do is to hug you from behind and lean down to kiss your jaw then. This way gives him the added joy of feeling all of you against him

Leona will kiss you on the neck so much you would think he's trying to eat you. Actually with the amount of hickeys he leaves behind, maybe you're not wrong. The feeling of your pulse beneath his lips gives him a high unlike any other. But you should really stop moving so much. Those fangs aren't just for looking pretty, you know

Rook, ever the gentleman, prefers to kiss you on the back of the hand. It's how he says hello, goodbye, and everything in between. When he's particularly excited to see you (which is most of the time), his kisses will make their way up your arm until he's peppering them all over your face and anywhere else he can reach.

Vil doesn't want to mess up his makeup, so when he needs to be quick he'll go in for a nose kiss. His days are fast paced, but he'll always spare a second to give you a nose kiss in passing. He adores the way your face scrunches up when you laugh and squeeze his hand.

Idia will kiss you any spot where he doesn't have to meet your eyes, especially your shoulder blade. His happy place is when you're in his lap, playing video games with your back against his chest. The only thing that distracts him from gaming is nuzzling into your back and pressing his lips against your shoulder.

Lilia is always trying to make you squirm and the easiest way is by kissing your inner thighs. His lips and teeth graze your most sensitive skin until you're trembling beneath him. Even more than your whines of frustration, he revels in your cries when he sinks his teeth in. But if you wanted to grab his head and put his mouth to use somewhere else, he wouldn't mind that either

Malleus would accept nothing less than to kiss your lips. He is a prince after all, so of course he would deserve to lay claim in a spot no one else would even dare touch. Even though his lips are cold, his breath is always burning hot as it fans across your face. Even in the most passionate moments, his kisses are always gentle. Of course he'll still kiss you enough to make your lips chapped and sore by the time you're done

Rollo is always quiet in his affection, which is why he likes to kiss your wrist. Kissing you anywhere more intimate makes him too nervous to really enjoy the moment, but pressing his lips to your pulse point while you cradle his face brings him back to earth.

Chenya lives for a surprise forehead kiss. His face will pop up out of nowhere, inches from your own. Before you can even get a word in, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead and disappears again, leaving you blinking in confusion.

[4linos]

SKZ hyung line random hard thoughts (18+) MDNI.

warnings: porn. mentions/hinting of free use & somnophilia.

(a/n: don’t take this serious 😝 i’m just bored & these are my personal opinions lol)

maknae line ver.

red links are phb & regular links are twitter!

chan

- sorry but he's a dom not a sub or a switch he's just a dom.

- very passionate lover & VERYYY experienced.

- has a hidden folder full of lewd pictures of the two of you.

- nudes/dick pics. he'll sneak off when he's busy with schedules, makes some kind of excuse that he has to use the restroom and snaps a picture or video of his hard cock to send to you.

- when you tell him you're going shopping he'll always send you extra money for lingerie, he likes those silk slips he can lift up whenever for easier access.

favorite position: missionary

"don't hold back. let me hear how much you love it."

"you're such a good girl getting all wet for me. you're all mine, aren't you?"

"cum for me, pretty one"

<<unrelated this video just reminds me of chan>>

minho

- dom !!!!!! anyone who says otherwise is wrong sorryyy (again).

- loves to be in control. at all times.

- gentle but can be rough especially when he's stressed.

- shower sex he loves shower sex

- doesn't care for lingerie because he'll end up taking it off of you anyway.

favorite position: doggy style

“beg me for it and i might let you cum.”

“that's it, baby, nice and slow.”

“go on. fuck yourself on my cock”

changbin

- switch but dom leaning.

- can be subby when he’s tired and horny

- role playing: pt/client, nurse/patient, ceo/secretary

- loves loves loves quickies before work

- lazy morning sex >>

- road headdd

favorite position: cowgirl

“i need you. please. i'll be quick.”

“you're taking me so well.”

“i'm yours to do whatever you want.”

hyunjin

- switch switch switch

- said this before (i think) but he doesn’t care if anyone can hear him. he’ll be very loud. so soooo whiny.

- big fan of somno

- public sex: fitting room, restroom, etc.

- pegging.. pretends he doesn’t like it and will never actually admit that he likes it.. he was reluctant to try it at first & ended up really enjoying it.

favorite position: 69

“i've been a good boy today.”

“please don’t stop.”

“i need to cum. please, i'll do anything.”

//

nini’s notes

2 posts today because why not lol again this is just for fun & i don’t know if i’m even going to make a post for the rest of the members. i’ll probably delete later heh😇.

[whimsicalwritersstuff]

Under the covers

Pairing: older!Joel x fem!Reader

Summary: you decide to give Joel a little blowie under the covers whislt he's busy talking on his phone.

Warnings: 18+. Cockwarming, Oral (m!receiving). Age gap (50s,20s), kinda freeuse with consent.

Note: hello! Welcome to my first pic, I hope y'all enjoy reading it and i humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 💞💞

words: 2,063

Joel's thick eyebrows are knitted together slightly as he concentrates on the worn pages of "Moby Dick". He'd always found comfort in books, a quiet escape from the harsh realities of the world. His calloused fingers carefully turn the page, his eyes scanning the lines of dense text. The round frames perch precariously on his nose, slipping down slightly with each thoughtful wrinkle of his forehead. His eyes squint slightly behind them to read the tiny print. He looks almost scholarly, far removed from the tough, weather-beaten face everyone in town knew.

He continues reading silently, occasionally turning a page with a soft rustle of paper. Every so often he pauses to run a hand through his messy grey bed hair or adjust his glasses, completely lost in the world of Captain Ahab and the great white whale.

The sudden sound of running water breaks Joel's concentration. He glances up briefly, listening as the sink is turned on and the familiar sounds of someone getting ready for bed filter through the thin walls.

He settles back against the headboard, his focus returning to the book as he continues reading.

You stand before the mirror in your simple cotton nightgown, brushing your teeth vigorously. Your hair is down, waves falling past your shoulders. You catch your reflection - dark circles under your eyes from another long day, high cheekbones, and full lips wrapped around the toothbrush.

You finish brushing your teeth and rinse your mouth, spitting into the sink. You lean forward, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up slightly. You pat your face dry with a worn towel, hanging it back up neatly.

You exit the bathroom quietly, the cool night air of the bedroom greeting you as you step inside. Joel is still engrossed in his book, sitting upright against the headboard with pillows propped behind him for support.

You carefully crawl towards him on the bed, Your hair falls softly around your shoulders as you lean in towards him. Your voice comes out whispered and sweet. "Any good?" You ask, your lips already curving upward.

Before Joel can even respond, you close the distance between you two, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. It's quick and sweet, meant more as a playful interruption than anything else. You pull back just as quickly, smiling against his lips before settling back onto your pillow, watching him with amusement.

Joel blinks, momentarily startled by the kiss. He closes his book slowly, marking his page with a bookmark before setting it aside on the nightstand. A soft smile spreads across his face as he turns to look at you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the bedside lamp. "Very good,"

Joel reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he leans in to kiss you back, this time more deeply and passionately than your initial playful kiss. His lips move against yours with a tender hunger, one hand sliding into your hair while the other pulls you closer against him. "Much better,"

You giggle softly against his lips, breaking the kiss to press a series of quick, playful pecks all over his face - his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. "Mmm, better than the book?"

Joel laughs softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he enjoys your playful antics. He turns his head slightly to capture your lips again, but you pull back playfully, keeping the kisses light and teasing. "Definitely better than any book," he admits with a smile.

Just as you're playfully kissing Joel's face, his phone suddenly lights up on the nightstand with a video call notification. The screen displays 'Sarah' - his daughter. The sudden ring breaks the playful moment, and Joel freezes for a second before reaching over to answer the call. "Hey sweetheart,"

Sarah's face comes into view on the screen, her expression bright and cheerful. She's obviously calling at a late hour, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Hey Dad!" she greets enthusiastically. "I was just laying in bed and thought I'd give you a call."

Joel props himself up against the headboard, adjusting the angle of the phone so Sarah can see him clearly. His voice is warm and loving as he speaks. "Hey kiddo. Shouldn't you be asleep already? It's kind of late for a school night,"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, Dad. But I wanted to talk to you before I went to sleep." She pauses for a moment before asking, "What were you doing?"

Joel glances over at you briefly before turning his attention back to the screen. "Nothing much, sweetheart. Just reading before bed." He replies casually, not wanting to mention the playful kisses and affection that had been going on before the call. "What about you? Everything okay at school?"

Sarah nods enthusiastically on the screen. "Yeah everything is good! I got an A on my math test today!" She beams proudly. "And my babysitter said she'd pick me up tomorrow after school so we can go shopping." She pauses before asking, "Are you coming home soon?"

Joel smiles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he thinks about his daughter. "I'm actually on a business trip right now, sweetheart. But I'll be home next weekend, okay? We can do something fun then." He promises. "Is the babysitter taking good care of you?"

As Joel is mid-conversation with Sarah, he feels the sudden movement of the covers being lifted and someone slipping underneath them. He glances over confused, he sees you smirking under the blankets. Sarah is still chatting away innocently on the screen, "...Yeah Dad,"

Joel tries to keep his focus on Sarah's video call while feeling the covers moving around his waist. He lifts the blanket slightly to see what's happening below and he sees you crawling towards him with a playful smirk. He gives you a confused look,

Joel watches as you look up at him with a playful smirk, your finger pressed against your lips in a silent'shh.' He's utterly confused by your behavior. Sarah's voice breaks through the moment, "Dad, are you listening to me?"

Joel quickly looks back at the screen, trying to focus on Sarah's conversations while your hands start fiddling with his belt underneath the covers. He swallows hard, his voice slightly strained as he responds to Sarah.

"Yeah, sweetie. You were saying something about the school play, right?"

You continue working on Joel's belt buckle, your movements slow and deliberate beneath the covers. You can hear Joel trying to keep up his end of the conversation with Sarah.

Joel tries to reach under the covers to stop your hands but you playfully slap his hand away. Sarah continues talking, "Dad?" She calls. "Can I try out for the lead role in the school play?"

With his belt now fully unbuckled, you slide the zipper of his pants down slowly. Joel lets out a frustrated groan under his breath, trying not to be too loud on the call.

"Of course you can try out, sweetheart..." He's clearly having trouble focusing on Sarah's conversation now.

Without hesitation, you push your hand inside his open pants and start exploring further. Joel's breathing grows heavier, his jaw clenched in an attempt to maintain control.

On the screen, Sarah continues chatting excitedly about the upcoming school play, oblivious to her father's predicament. "I'm really excited,"

As you wrap your hand around his thick, growing erection, Joel lets out a silent groan, his eyes rolling back slightly. He tries to keep his voice steady on the call,

"That sounds great, honey. I'm proud of you..." His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, "Stop..."

You ignore his plea and continue stroking him, your bratty behavior coming out. Joel's grip on his phone tightens, trying to keep his composure while Sarah chatters on about costumes and rehearsals. "...And babysitter said she'd help me practice my lines"

Joel's eyes snap shut as he feels your warm, wet tongue teasing the tip of his erection. He bites back a moan, his hand instinctively reaching out to gently grab your hair, though he quickly releases it, remembering Sarah is on the call. "Mhm...that's nice sweetheart..."

Joel's breathing grows heavier and more irregular with each teasing lick. Sarah's voice drones on in the background about some drama with the costume committee.

As you start bobbing your head, taking more and more of Joel's length into your warm, wet mouth, he begins to pant heavily as he tries to focus on anything but the incredible sensation you're giving him. Sarah calls out again, "Dad? Hello? You okay?"

Joel manages to choke out a strained, "Yeah, honey, I'm here," his voice strained as he tries to maintain a normal tone while you continue sucking and slurping him softly under the blankets. As sarah continues talking about her day at school.

As you take him deeper, Joel's tip hits the back of your throat and you gag softly around him. His eyes roll back, a deep groan escaping his lips before he can catch himself. Sarah pauses again on the call, "Dad? You sound weird..."

Joel's breath hitches as you pull him out of your mouth with a wet pop, leaving a string of saliva connecting his tip to your plump lips. He tries desperately to keep his voice steady, "...I'm just tired, sweetheart. Had a long day is all." Sarah seems satisfied with that answer and continues chatting.

Joel's eyes snap open as he feels your warm spit land on his length followed by your soft giggle. He watches through slitted eyes as you stroke him slowly up and down, his mind reeling at how naughty and bratty you're being while Sarah chats innocently in the background.

Joel's grip on the phone tightens as you continue your teasing torture. You stroke him slowly, occasionally leaning down to lick or suck gently on the sensitive tip.

He tries to keep his responses to Sarah coherent, but his voice grows increasingly strained. "...Yeah...that sounds nice...honey."

You can feel Joel's cock throbbing in your hand as you continue your slow torture. You take him back into your mouth, sucking deeply before pulling away again to stroke him. His breathing becomes ragged, and he struggles to focus on Sarah's words.

Joel's jaw clenches as you continue your relentless teasing. You run your tongue up the underside of his length, wiggling it against the sensitive vein before sucking gently on the tip.

You wrap your hand around the base of Joel's cock and start pumping vigorously while sucking hard on the head. His hips buck involuntarily.

As Sarah continues chatting, Joel's breathing becomes rapid and shallow. He can feel his release building, his balls tightening. You sense this and quickly take him back into your mouth, sucking him deeply as he feels the familiar tingling sensation in his spine.

Joel's body tenses as he reaches the point of no return. With a final, deep thrust into your mouth, he comes undone. Hot, white strings of cum shoot down your throat as he lets out a muffled groan.

Trembling slightly from his intense release, he struggles to keep up with Sarah's conversation. His body is slick with sweat as you continue sucking gently, milking every last droplet from him. His breath catches in his throat while trying to respond to Sarah,* "...Yes...yes, honey...that sounds good..."

Joel watches you emerge from the covers, your body glistening with sweat. You look up at him with a playful smirk and wipe the side of your mouth with the back of your hand, catching the leftover cum. He swallows hard, finding your bratty behavior insanely hot.

Joel shoots you a warning look, his eyes dark with unspoken punishment promise. But he soon returns his attention to the phone call, trying to focus on Sarah's words. His voice is a bit rougher than before, giving him away slightly. "...Uh-huh...yeah..."

Sarah's voice comes through the speaker, slightly concerned "Hey Dad... wait, you sound kinda weird. Are you okay?" He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. The damn AC's broken, that's all... I'm just hot."

Joel shifts slightly, trying to hide his smile as you snuggle up against him. He can feel your body heat against his side, and it takes every ounce of his willpower to keep his voice steady as he continues talking to Sarah. "...Yeah...yeah..."

[realcube]

— GOONER! FANBOY! KENMA

tws & tags ;; nsfw. mdni. camgirl! reader. filming. objectification. vaginal. oral (f! receiving). praise. light impact play. light daddy kink. body worship. squirting — hcs into long fic (wc: 5.6k) part one.

GOONER! FANBOY! KENMA who keeps track of your viewership and subscriber trends more than you do.

FANBOY! KENMA who is, hence, the first to notice your uneasy sub count and lower-than-usual engagement. of course, being a famous streamer himself, he is familiar with slow periods and realises that current trends aren't a direct reflection of the quality of your content. he's certain that due to how sweet you are, and how successful your account is overall, your views will pick up in no time.

FANBOY! KENMA who is surprised and disappointed when your views, in fact, do not pick up.

FANBOY! KENMA who figures that — although it's nice that there's less trolls and spammers in your livestreams now, and that he doesn't have to bid against thousands of other fans for a private show anymore — the suspended growth of your channel cannot be a good thing. firstly, he doesn't enjoy imagining a sweet, gentle girl like you struggle financially, or struggle in any sense of the word. secondly, if your explicit content creation doesn't continue to provide a steady and decent stream of income, you'll probably abandon it, similar to how you stopped making gaming content. and of course, that would be kenma's worst nightmare.

FANBOY! KENMA who is this close to transferring someone's yearly salary straight into your bank account, just so he can implore you to keep making porn. but he unfortunately realises not only is that solution unsustainable, but it's also on a level of absolutely pathetic that he has yet to reach.

FANBOY! KENMA who is more concerned about your channel than he is his own. even if his gaming content were to suddenly lose motion, he'd still have his stocks and company investments to fall back on — but what do you have? shamefully, it keeps him up at night thinking that he soon might never see your gorgeous pussy plastered over his monitors again. or hear those cute moans as you mewl his (user)name over and over during one of your private shows.

FANBOY! KENMA who doesn't have to fret for long. on your main account, you send a text post to all your fans, admitting that your channel has been struggling recently. however, you weren't ready to give up so easily; you figured that in order for your account to blow up, you need to pull some sort of viral publicity stunt. something adjacent to sleeping with 100 men in one day, but unforunately you don't have the endurance for that. instead, you're looking for a popular, non-erotic youtuber to make content with.

FANBOY! KENMA is left aghast. not only at the vulgarity of your proposal, but also at how shockingly clever it was. by poaching a youtuber who doesn't already make nsfw content, you'll not only bring in their audience to your channel, but also a large portion of individuals who will want to see the content purely due to the curiousity and shock-factor alone. it was certainly the perfect scheme for a viral moment. the only glaring issue with your plan lied in the fact that there probably wasn't many popular youtubers who are willing to sacrifice their entire reputation, dignity and future sponsorships for a quick buck.

FANBOY! KENMA who is more than happy to end his youtube career for a quick fuck. especially from you.

FANBOY! KENMA who hesitantly messages you through his verified account, enquiring about the possiblity of a collab. he pays attention to the way he types and makes an effort to stray from his usual typing quirks, lest you recognise the way the types from the hours of private shows you've spent together. and the hundreds of comments he's left under your nude pics from his gooner account.

FANBOY! KENMA whose heart jumps in his chest when he receives a message back from you, which reads that you're delighted to get this oppertunity to work with him and you're happy to discuss setting up a date to meet in-person.

FANBOY! KENMA whose cock stiffens at the mere thought of finally seeing you in real life. getting feel those cute tits, and admire your gorgeous face up close. it makes him light-headed to think he might get to taste that tight cunt he's spent so many late nights drooling over. in fact, he struggles to even picture you in three dimensions — you're just so gorgeous with the most perfect tits, a small part of him suspected you must be some sort of hyper-realistic v-tuber.

but no, you're real. you're a real person and soon he's going to meet you in real life and feel the inside of that pretty hole that he's been obsessing over for years.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Main Street Flats. Room 605. It's on the sixth floor but the elevator is broken right now </3 see you soon!

his heart is pounding in his ears as he gently knocks on your door. despite streaming for audience of over twenty thousand viewers on a weekly basis, this is the most nervous he's felt since highschool. his stomach churned and pulsed, as he gripped onto the hem of his hoodie and prayed he wouldn't throw-up.

the worst part was his original fears would only spawn new ones; in the beginning, his biggest worries pertained to his desirability — what if you think he's too ugly and grimy to have sex with? — and his identity — what if you somehow recognise him from his gooner account and figure out he's perverted loser? it was an endless spiral of anxiety that halted when your apartment door swung open.

"oh, hi! you're here early." you sing, noticing him visibly stiffen at the sudden introduction. famous youtuber and twitch streamer , applepi : this guy was a big name in a the gaming sphere at the moment. admittedly, you didn't watch a lot of his content, but his influence and fame was undeniable. you revised for this meeting by binge watching his past livestreams, so you weren't going in totally blind — overall, he seemed like a sweet guy and the perfect candidate for your publicity stunt.

plus, he was so cute. his hair is long for a guy, and slightly bleach damaged, but it suited him somehow. his features were appealing to look at too ; piercing eyes that are almost feline. though they are currently widened to match his awkwardly startled expression.

or at least, that's what you thought. really, although you did surprise him a bit at first, the reason he was still stood staring at you in prolonged silence, was simply because he was soaking up your ethereal presence. he couldn't believe you were real and standing right afore him.

and you were exactly like your account promised. no editing or filters. that pretty face with those glossy lips that tempt in-person just as much as they do online. your perfectly shaped body was currently clad in a baggy pair of shorts and a low-cut tank top which exposed the bold curve of your tits and that salacious cleavage which was already starting to drive him crazy. was it bad that he already wanted to start sucking on those pretty tits? was he perverted for wanting to rip those shorts right off to see if your pussy was as cute and tight as it is online?

fuck, he's not even been here for a minute yet and already getting hard.

"uh— hello? kenma. you there?" you ask with a curious tilt of your head, since he seemed too stunned to respond.

snapped out of his trance, he hurriedly stammers out a reply, "uh, yeah— hi."

"hi," you repeat with a kind smile, "kenma. that's your name, right?"

"yeah." he mumbles, his cock throbbing upon hearing you say his real name in that melodic voice. he was so used to hearing you mewl and moan, it was kinda weird hearing you talk normally.

"why don't you come in?" you offer, stepping out of the way and softly gesturing for him to enter. he does so, timidly shuffling inside and examining your flat while you shut the door behind him.

he could help but gawk at his surroundings , having finally step foot in your home — it was like a place of mystery and myth. having seen snapshots of your flat in the background of your posts and videos, it was as though he was finally putting together the strangest puzzle. what he never sussed out earlier though, is that you live in a studio. still, he recognises the various parts from content. there, to his immeidate right, was your kitchen area, and the familiar countertop you are bent over in many up-skirt pics. in front of him, there is the large window which you frequently pose nude in front of , which would leave him seething at the thought of any pervvy window-cleaners catching a glimpse of you. against the adjacent wall, was your infamous desk with your pc setup on it, surely the one you would use to broadcast your rauchy livestreams. it felt terribly meta seeing the device in-person, along with your leathery gaming chair, which is shockingly prisitne, yet he seen first-hand how much squirt that thing has been covered with. finally , although he couldn't view it well from where he was standing, a few feet behind your desk was your bed. the main attraction.

"sorry, i don't have a living room or anything, but feel free to sit down here." you scramble to pull out one of the bar stools by your kitchen counter, and it grates against the wooden flooring, causing kenma to wince, "would you like me to get you a beverage? maybe a tea or something?"

cautiously, he sits down on the stool and his eyes follow your figure as you move round the counter into the kitchen to prepare yourself a drink, "water, please."

after removing two wine glasses from your cabinet, you fill each one with water from your filter, "yeah, i'm not feeling tea right now either. and coffee probably isn't advisable." you snicker to yourself, and kenma smirks.

he mutters his thanks as you hand him a glass, and you remain on the opposite side of the counter as you converse, "so, i was thinking we could shoot a video today?" you say, shockingly casual, then take a lengthy sip of your water, "is that okay with you, or do you just want to stick with photos?"

"a video is fine." kenma croaks, attempting to not choke on his water.

"great. my bed is just round there. i've set up some lights and a tripod too, so we should be good to go. oh, and clean sheets." you explain, trying your best to project confidence and praying that he doesn't pick up on how inexperienced you are — especially as you are meant to be the 'expert'. but your insistent lack of eye-contact and stammering might've given you away. "heh, i should admit, i've never done anything like this before."

kenma raises an eyebrow, "hm? i thought this is your job."

"sorta. what i mean is that i usually make, erm— solo content. i'm not used to working with others. not like this anyway." you idly fidget with the stem of your glass, beginning to ramble from sheer panic, "i mean, sometimes my friends might help me take pics. y'know, posing or getting the right lighting. but they don't feature in any, it's mostly just me. well, except for that one time, but yeah."

kenma was forced to sit there and grip onto the stem of his glassware and pretend like he didn't know exactly what you were talking about. (for your birthday, you released exclusive content, wherein fans could buy you stuff off your amazon wishlist and receive special photos in return. most of them were of you in your birthday suit, but a couple of the more candid ones showed you dancing in the club with your friends.)

"i'm new to this as well. but we'll work it out together." he reassures, in his silky voice that already has you rubbing your thighs together with anticipation.

"alright. i guess i'm done with my drink. do you want to just, erm, get started?" you inquire through gritted teeth, and he answers your question by simply getting up and following you to your bed.

before you plop yourself down at the end of the bed, and he perches beside you, the camera is first turned on and the lights are adjusted to suit. "i hope they are not too bright?" you ask, as you notice he sublty winces at the harsh illumination.

"it's fine." he shrugs.

"okay, i find this setting works well for me when i'm on my own. but let me know if you wanna change it."

well, kenma thinks to himself, if this is the lighting that makes you look like an otherwordly, divine spirit in all of your videos, then he must be able to put some faith in it.

"also, remember, the key to a good porno is lots of foreplay. think you can do that?" you challenge, and without hesitation, kenma nods.

"great, in that case, should we just start?" you suggest, toying with your own fingers, "don't worry about messing up or getting it right the first time. i rarely get the right footage in one take, it usually takes me three or four rounds before i get the perfect shot."

fuck, there's no way. as soon as the words exit your word, there's a horny pang that ruptures through kenma's mind, almost causing him to shudder. all the times he's seen you squirt at your desk , or orgasm uncontrollably on your bed, that's been the third or fourth take? to think, how swollen and sore your poor little clit must've been from all that stimulation, just to get the perfect shot for your viewers. you were too heavenly. and what he would do to give that sweet clit a kiss.

"kenma? hello?" you call out, as he appears to be lost in a daze once again.

"uh, hi." he jumps back to reality with a firm blink, "thanks. i'm down to reshoot as many times as we need." which is true, he's been working on his stamina and going on runs specifically for this purpose.

"that's great. but are you sure that you want to do this today? you seem a bit distracted."

he shakes his head slightly, "i'm fine."

"if you say so." you sigh, as you sit up and throw one of your legs over kenma's lap so you are straddling him, "the cameras are rolling, so let's go. don't hold back on me." you purr, arching your back into him and tugging him up by his hoodie's drawstrings into a deep kiss, which he is quick to reciprocate.

it's as though he was having some sort of out-of-body experience, like his mind just couldn't comprehend that you — the woman he's been fanning over and masterbating to for years — was finally on top of him. and he didn't need to empty his bank account for it to happen.

despite the surreal feeling, he tried his best to ground himself by slipping a hand under your shorts and squeezing a handful of your ass, reminding him that you were real and he could touch you. in fact, your lips even vibrated against his own as you mewl over the rough groping. he was more randy than you initially assumed, but that's not to say you didn't enjoy it.

as your lips weaved together in a sensual rhythm, his hand becomes increasingly eager and is able to locate your pantie-clad pussy under your loose shorts. his fingertips poked at and explored your soft folds, and he could feel the wet patch in the fabric where it was drooling for him. the camera would only show his hand stuffed between your thighs, but you knew how his slender fingers were toying with your supple cunt.

similarly, as you got lost in the kiss, his fingers drew towards your clit like a magnet to metal, even through the damp fabric of your panties. it was odd but also kinda a turn-on how familiar he was with female anatomy — you figured he must get a lot of action, or something like that. little did you know, he didn't know the first thing about women's biology , he was only able to find your clit so easily due to the fact he's seen so many of your livestreams that an image of your pussy is basically seared onto his prefrontal cortex. so, considering how much time he's spent watching you abuse that little nub with your vibrator, it would be shameful if he didn't couldn't locate your clit in under a second.

your lips were still dancing against his in a sloppy kiss and your arms were wrapped around his shoulders and your soft tits were pressed against his chest and was it just his imagination of could he feel those cute nipples poking him through your tank top? while you whined into his mouth, his hand adventured under your shorts and rubbed that spongy spot between your folds and you were so wet it was seeping through your panties and sticking to his fingers and when he moved to slap your cunt , he could feel the dip where that tight hole was and how the fabric clung to it and— and fuck, he needs to tear this shit off you.

you try to put on a performance for the viewers — make a little show out of tugging your shorts of for the video that was hopefully going to be viewed by thousands , if not millions of horny gamers. but kenma prevented you from doing so.

"hurry up." his fingers, which were previously digging into the supple flesh of your thighs, move to keenly tug at your waistband. although you were making good progess sensually pulling your shorts down as you sway your hips for the camera, kenma is far to impatient and you stumble as he rushes them all the way down your legs and carelessly tosses them aside.

he grabs a fistful of your newly exposed ass cheek and kneads it in his hand, pulling you back in and deepening the kiss once again. "you're so pretty like this.." he rumbles against your mouth, and you can't help but smile. "better than i imagined." maybe he shouldn't have said that, especially as he's trying to pretend like he's not a fanboy that's been routinely pleasuring himself to you for the last year.. but it's the heat of the moment, and it's so true. he could've never conceptualised how angelic you'd feel, how sweet you'd taste and how deliciously lewd you'd smell.

you're so soft and malleable and light, it's like if he held you too firmly you'd shatter, but if he loosened his grip you might dissipate into thin air. and he couldn't let that happen.

a low whimper is strung from his throat as you lightly grind hips down against his throbbing erection. the noise he made caused him to cringe a little, hence his hand instinctually gripped your ass harder, and it didn't help when you giggled quietly while littering kisses over his jawline and neck. no, that only made him even more self-conscious, and in a fit of frustration, he smacks your ass with all the strength he has in his arm. then, he does it again.

you squeal slightly and strighten up, clinging to his shoulder and looking down at his blank face with a pout. his hands massages the warm area upon which he delivered his merciless strike, squeezing at your raw skin. "sorry.." he says timidly, though the lustful and greedy glint at his eye suggests that he might not be so apologetic.

still, you howl with your back turned to the camera, "ow, kenma!" and he genuinely feels guilty for a split second, until you lean in and whisper into his ear, quiet enough so the microphone wouldn't pick up on it, "do it harder next time, please."

kenma's eyes widen, and the insenity of his erection has suddenly shifted from mild to unbearable. thankfully, you are there to lead the way, and you push him back so he is laying on the bed, and you crawl on top of him, pecking all across his neck while he desperately works on unzipping his fly. usually, he taking his clothes off in front of a camera and professional lightening would've caused him a decent amount of mental turmoil, but fortunately due to the extreme discomfort between his legs, he was able to bypass that phase and skip straight to the part where he is trying to shove his cock into your snug little cunt. the cocksleeve of his dreams.

but of course, you are there to interupt him by grabbing his dick with your cute hands and whispering, "remember what i said about foreplay." kenma presses his lips into a fine line, almost tearing up while attempting not to come undone right there in your hand.

you let go and shuffle forward so you're straddling his lower torso, and your pantie-clad pussy is sat on his lower abdomen. you take the hem of your fitted tank top and pull it up over your head, and out fall your gorgeous tits. just the right size and it's like your pebbled nipples were staring right at him, begging to be sucked and toyed with, calling out desperately for attention, crying out just like how they did online during your private livestreams together. except the only difference is this time, kenma can actually reach out and pinch those adorable nubs with his own fing—

"kenma!" you yelp, feeling the hot cum that was leaking down his shaft touch your lower back. fuck, he came. despite his effort to bite it back, upon seeing your perfect tits, his seed naturally came spilling out too, drooling down the length of his cock and staining his thighs and the part of your back and ass that had been situated near him.

"mph, sorry. you're too hot.." he groaned, in a low enough tone that the microphone probably couldn't have picked it up. you furrow your brows and look down at him with a disatisfied pout; though you can feign anger all you want, doesn't change the fact you were secretly endeared by how easily he came for you. he's like putty if your hands. not that this kind of treatment from men is foreign to you — you entertain gooner fanboys all day, it's kinda your job — but kenma wasn't one of them. no, he's a famous livestreamer and millionaire stock-trader, who most women would be delighted to have sex with but he's still so down bad for you.

but you're only a niche camgirl; he'd probably never even heard of you before you reached out to him about a collab.

your chest heaved as you were momentarily fixated on the feeling of his hot cum splattered on your back, running down your skin in drops, over the rotund globe of your ass and back down on to his lower stomach where you were sat. meanwhile, his narrow eyes explored your perfect figure some more. your pretty tits, the tempting dip of your waist, your erect nipples, your panties which clung to the outline of your damp cunt: of course, he's seen it all before online, but this was different. and so much better.

his hands traced your silhouette, sliding up and down the sensual curves of your body and cupping those perky tits. the words left him without considersation, "can i taste?" he croaked.

"of course." you hummed politely in response. however, you were lost in thoughts of your own, and were not paying attention to the way he was lecherously gazing at your tits. hence, you assumed he was referring to something else. and this misunderstanding only manifests when you shuffle forward, pull your panties aside and sit on his face.

but kenma doesn't protest. not only because he's suffocating in your pussy and can hardly speak, but also because he prefers it this way. he relished the oppertunity and grips your thighs, pressing them further down against his mouth.

his lips work against your folds, feverishly, lapping at your sopping labia and sucking on it — savouring at prisitine juices you have to offer. his eyes screw shut as he loses himself in your wet cunt, thrusting his tongue into your hole eagerly and devouring you like a depraved, starving man. and fucking loves it too, and this time he can't even bring himself to hide it; you can tell by the way he moans into your pussy and whispers all sorts of nasty shit under his breath about how your tight hole is going to rip his tongue off, or how you long he's been dreaming about eating you out.

and those are only the things you manage to hear over the obscene, wet noises his mouth is making against your cunt. you're not sure if it's from the sloppy make-out session he has with your folds, or if it is from his tongue repeatedly drilling into your sopping hole, but something is emitting a squealching sounds which you pray the microphone will detect.

"hah— mmh, t' much.." you whine, your fingers winding into his darkened roots as your squirm against his face, "you're so good, kenma."

"not done.." he grits, squeezing the meat of your thighs and burying himself deeper into your fluttering hole, "'m not done tasting you."

"but i'm close!" you blurt out, legs tensing around his head as a burning heat swirls within your abdomen.

"do it." he groaned, hips rutting into thin air as his tongue furiously pierces into your desperate pussy. "finish on my face.. please, baby, cum on me." at first it was a harsh demand, but the more your sweet pussy filled his senses, it became a plea.

soon, your first orgasm wracked through your shivering body, causing your walls to constrict around kenma's tongue, but that didn't stop him from him from kissing your hole as you climaxed. once you were finished though — your body relaxed and your pornographic shrieks fade into heavy breathing — when you move to pull yourself off his face, his hands grip onto your thighs and hold you in place. his lips then begin to move again as he reestablishes a rhythm to continue eating you out.

his enthusiasm, although cute, was lost on you as you keep trying to pull yourself off his face, to no avail. he whines, words muffled by his mouth locked to your pussy, "nggh, please, princess. 'm not done. let me go again. you're so tasty." his fingers cling to your supple flesh, unable to let you go.

you squirm against his face from the ticklish vibrations of his voice against your clit. yours hands grasp meekly onto his longish blond locks, idly massaging his scalp, "mm, but we need to keep going, honey. for the.." your breath hitches, and you mouth the final word, "film."

"fuck the video.." he groans, pressuring your cunt down against his mouth as he starts gnawing at your insides once again. his lips peppered sloppy kisses at your puckered entrance, then his tongue wormed through your restrictive walls and lapped at gummy spot within you, causing back to arch and an utterly pornographic moan to be yanked from you.

instictually, your hips began to rut against his face as your body revels in the feral way he eats out your pussy. "so good, baby.. can't get enough of you, please don't ever make me leave." he murmurs, stamina fueled by a lust-induced trance.

"think you c— ngh— kenma!" you open your mouth to tease him but your abruptly cut off by a string of moans and sobs that your body is no longer able to suppress. from the way his tongue laps at your puffy folds and his nose prods at your delicate clit, there's a growing desire in the pit of your stomach which is becoming increasingly difficult to hide.

"you like that ? feel good?"

originally you'd been trying to stay collected as this was only just the foreplay, but he was doing something to you, and you just couldn't contain yourself any longer. there you were on your bed riding his face and jutting your hips against him, craving friction and selfishly chasing your high without a care in the word for the man suffocating between your legs.

his whole arms were locked around your legs to keep you in place and his eyes were squeezed shut as he delved into your hole, pushing into you repeatedly while you called for to him. "kenma! please!" you pleaded to the ceiling. " 'm right there , please."

"anything for you. just cum for me, kitten. let it all out. finish on my face again." his tongue was too far up your hole and he was too immersed in your needy, juicy cunt to give a fuck about the cringy pet name. that's what he's always called you in his head — his cute little kitten, with innocent eyes and a hidden fierceness — even when he was just a fan , pumping his cock to your digital pussy on his screen. but now it was real , as real as your arousal smearing his chin and dripping down his throat.

and as real as the squirt gushing from your pussy as you climaxed, drenching his face and neck. his tongue was freed from your spasming hole but he continued to suck on and nibble at your pulsing clit, massaging your ass to coax you through your high.

it was euphoric, your pent-up stress releasing as a wave of bliss coarsed through your body. your muted screamed bounced off the wall as you revelled in the sensation, without a drop of care for your neighbours or those who might overhear.

as your coming down, the orgasmic dizziness begins to fade and your seneses sharpen, which is when you become conscious of a hot fluid dripping down your back. your brows furrow, and you try to reach your hand back to touch it but unfortunately your arms don't bend that far. that's when you hear a murmur of a dishevelled kenma from between your legs, mouth still brushed up against your clit, "erm, sorry. again."

you turn around to see that he came a second time, and now his cum has spurted all up his chest and some must've also splattered across your back, again.

all you can do is titter in response, shuffling off his face and kneeling on the bed beside him, "don't worry about it.." taking his slender hand in your own, you guide it towards your hips as you twist around and bend over on the bed, bracing yourself with your elbows with your ass in the air. "c'mon. 'm ready to take you." still riding your depleting high, you look back at him with your bottom lip captured betwen your teeth and a wanton glint in your eyes. "wanna hurry up and give it to me, daddy?"

even though a part of him reckoned you were playing it up for the camera, he couldn't help but relish at how needy you are. who knew fucking yourself stupid with a dildo and toying with your clit all day while livestreaming wasn't enough for your greedy little pussy? still desperate to get stuffed by him; a guy you hardly knew. god, it drove him crazy to think about.

he swiftly sat up and aligned himself with your entrance, smearing the head of his cock over your glistening folds and lubricating himself with your arousal. he couldn't believe this. his breath hitched at the sight , along with the realisation that he was about to enter the same sweet cunt that he's been dreaming about for ages. he salivates at the notion, wondering whether your walls would squeeze his dick just like he imagined.

there was only one way to find out. wasting no time, the distance between his hips and yours narrow as he buries himself into your creamy hole. his eyes screw shut and he clenches a fistful of your ass, experiecing an overwhelming level of satisfaction as your walls grip onto his length. "nngh, i knew this pussy was made for me.." he grumbles, torso going slack as he leans forward, body laying against yours, with his cheek pressed against the back of your neck — without an ounce of concern for the cum on your back which was now surely staining his chest further.

"mhm, n' you fill me up so good." you mewl, squirming back against him and appreciating the inches of stimulation it brings you. you're given some time to adjust to his impressive length, stretching your stubborn walls to fit him inside you while he remained stagnant, body caving into yours as he savoured the moment.

" n' you're so fucking tight too.. you're like a dream come true." he droned in his usual monotone voice, "don't think i can ever pull out of you. this is where i belong. deep inside you." talk about pussy-drunk; this is the most talkative you've seen him so far.

it took one or two more agitated squirms before he figured out you were attempting to covertly ask for more. as much as he was enjoying himself cuddling into your back while balls-deep in your cunt, he straightening his posture and slowly begins to rock his hips into you. starting a reasonable and moderate pace, and working his way up until he was hurriedly slamming his cock into your pussy over and over.

a staggered cry emitted from your mouth with every harsh slap of his hips against yours ass, along with the cruel pierce of his length against yoru cervix. your whole body was rocked by his brutal force, and your tits swung in such an overt way — easily identifiable by a potential viewer.

"hah— yes, ke— kenma! right— there—" the breathy words stumbled out of you, accompanied by a high-pitched whine of pleasure. "no— no one's ever— mph, fucked me like this!"

"you're taking it so well, kitten." meanwhile, kenma's focus was zeroed in on your ass, watching it bounce against him as he pounded into your sopping hole repeatedly. the juices seeped out of you — an unholy mixture of precum, your wetness and his saliva — and culminated in a ring at the base of his cock.

your gummy walls swallowed him whole and took him so nicely. hugging every inch of his unloved cock and showing him the affection he deserved. so tight, and so good for him. it almost made him feel bad for mercilessly drilling into you. "just like that. stay just like that, pretty girl." he heaved, as his fingers idly trail up your thighs until they reach your folds, wherein he begins to rub and pinch at your clit.

it was all just so much. his expert fingers; his fat cock; his warm body against yours. plus, you were still sensitive from your previous two orgasms. the rigid knot was building up within you so quickly. your body was tensing and he could sense you were close from the way your walls clung to his unforgiving dick. "please, ke— enma. i'm so close, i'm so fucking close."

"shh. i know, baby. n' i'm going to take care of you. so just relax." his voice his shaky yet so calming and remorseful; in stark contrast to the way his dick keeping ploughing into you, relentlessly bullying your poor cervix and your aching little hole. this was serious, as reflected by the severe glint in his eyes; this means a lot more to him just some stupid video. he's a man on a mission.

his length ravaged your insides yet it was stroking all the right places, just as his hands caressed your thighs and ass. "such a good girl. can't believe this pussy's all mine."

with that, you tossed your head back and let pure bliss encapsulate your trembling body. your arms gave out from underneath you but the overwhelming pleasure coarsing through you distracted from the discomfort of your face hitting the mattress. despite how your cunt clamped down on him, kenma attempted to still fuck you through your high, but all he managed was a few feeble thrusts and a single stroke of your clit before he came undone inside you.

your moans bounced off the walls and filled the room. it was hard to cope with the conjestive feeling of his hot seed permeating your insides, but you were given time to lay down and recover. and soon, kenma's twitching body collapsed on top of you and joined you.

his dick was still buried in your stuffed pussy , and he was a bit heavy on top of you, but you were far too worn out to utter a complaint about it. instead, you just laid there and tried to catch your breath, flinching occasionally.

until you eventually spoke up, "that was a good demo. i think we've still got a lot of practising to do though, before we're ready to shoot the real thing."

"sure." he replied plainly.

there was a beat of silence between you, in which you could hear kenma still puffing for air. to lighten the mood, you ask, "by the way, what's with the nickname? 'kitten' ; i've never heard that one before."

"oh, do you not like it?"

"no, i don't mind it." you say defensively, "well, maybe you shouldn't use it during the final take, but it's not that bad. certainly new. never been called that before, which is pretty crazy considering guys online have called me plenty of unique nicknames: pumpkin, sugarplum, even honey muffin — but not kitten."

"hm, i think it just reminded me of you." he explains flatly, "but now that i think about it, i guess 'bunny' might've suited you more."

"hm, how come?"

"cos of your halloween costume. remember?"

"oh, yeah!" you giggle at the memory; the year you went as a bunny was certainly a wild one. gosh, it must've been ages ago now.. you think to yourself. and suddenly, your heart rate begins to increase as a realisation comes crashing down on you:

"huh, it's strange you know that, though. considering the only people who know about that costume are my friends, and the fifteen people who bought the pictures off my account."

shit.

[starmaidengarden]

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 !

contexts: just some adorable headcanons about the octavinelle boys

— Azul : Jade : Floyd : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. cute headcanons. pt3! Pic: Leo08ph on twt, dividers: uzmacchiato

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Azul doesn’t just fall in love—he spirals into it as if caught in a whirlpool. At first, he finds himself utterly enchanted by your quick wit and the way your eyes flicker with excitement when you discuss your passions. He admires your fearless spirit, and how you’re not afraid to challenge him, keeping him on his toes.

⭑.ᐟ He'll give you a compliment and then quickly play it down, feeling a bit shy about it. "You look absolutely lovely today," he stammers, his cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “I-I mean, not that you don’t always look great,” he quickly adds, a sheepish grin escaping as he tries to play it cool.

⭑.ᐟ He shows his love in clear and meaningful ways. He carefully organizes your busy schedule, making sure you have time to rest between classes, editing your papers and gives helpful feedback. On relaxed afternoons at the lounge, he buys you free drinks, a simple gesture that warms your heart.

⭑.ᐟ Beyond these everyday acts, he also has a thing for spoiling you with luxurious, thoughtfully chosen gifts—perhaps a rare book by your favorite author or a piece of jewelry that reflects your unique style. Each time he presents these surprises, he downplays their value, pretending they’re no big deal, yet deep down, you know they come from a place of affection and care.

⭑.ᐟ Azul is not openly affectionate in public. He gets flustered easily, and even a simple touch could send his composure crumbling. But in private? He’s incredibly soft. He loves being held, especially when he’s stressed. He’ll melt into your arms after long shifts, nuzzling into your shoulder and sighing deeply. If you run your fingers through his hair, he may just fall asleep there.

⭑.ᐟ His touches are cautious at first: brushing hair from your face, guiding you with a hand on your back. But once he grows comfortable, he loves holding hands, cuddling while reading, and soft kisses—always soft, almost reverent. Azul is old-fashioned when it comes to romance. He’ll offer his arm like a gentleman, open doors, and always insists on paying during dates. He wants to be someone you can rely on—a foundation, not just a lover.

⭑.ᐟ sometimes you doze off on his shoulder while he’s reviewing contracts. He freezes up like he’s just been struck by lightning. His cheeks go bright pink. He doesn’t dare move, even though his arm falls asleep. Instead, he watches over you with a soft, protective gaze, and when you wake up, there’s a blanket on your shoulders and a cup of warm tea waiting for you.

Jade Leech ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ He will quietly appear at your side when you’re overwhelmed, leaning in just enough to soften the moment, and gently say, “Shall we take a walk?” His presence has a calming effect, as if he senses the tension radiating off you

⭑.ᐟ He thrives off reactions. Embarrassed? Flustered? Delicious. He’s always watching—his gaze is everywhere and observant—and a soft smile curls on his lips, as if he knows your next move before you do. He favors subtle touches too. a hand on the small of your back, brushing your fingers as he passes something to you. He enjoys watching your reactions more than the contact itself.

⭑.ᐟ When you throw out a sarcastic remark, he leans in closer, the playful glimmer in his eyes intensifying. “What an amusing little bite you have,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mischief. “Careful, or I might bite back.” (You’re now emotionally ruined for the next half hour.)

⭑.ᐟ If someone else seems interested in you, he won’t interfere directly—he’ll smile politely, but there’s a dangerous glint in his eye. He believes in claiming things without making a scene. You’ll know when he decides you're his.

⭑.ᐟ He playfully jokes around, but he always keeps a watchful eye on you—slightly shifting his demeanor to a more serious tone if he detects even the faintest hint of sadness in your expression, his concern obvious in the way his brows furrow slightly.

⭑.ᐟ Takes you on adventurous dates in the woods, where he excitedly leads the way, so you can “hunt for rare fungi together.” Despite the trail and close calls—you barely avoided a slippery slope down a steep hill—his infectious spirit makes every moment thrilling.

⭑.ᐟ Absolutely teaches you random facts about mushrooms, deep-sea creatures, and poisons like it’s flirting. “Did you know this species can paralyze a person in under 10 seconds? Fascinating, isn’t it?” His tone is infused with charm, as if he’s flirting with knowledge (Comforting??? Maybe???)

⭑.ᐟ Jade doesn’t like being touchy in public. He reserves those moments for when you’re alone: wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, brushing your hair out of your face, or resting his forehead against yours with quiet intimacy.

Floyd Leech ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Floyd’s mood swings are real—and he doesn’t hide them at all. One minute he’s clingy, leaning into you with an almost desperate affection, his large eyes sparkling with mischief; the next he’s distracted, looking off into the distance as if entirely bored by the world around him.

⭑.ᐟ BUT! You’re the only person who can steady him. No matter how stormy his mood gets, your voice and touch act like a soothing balm, cutting through the chaos. It’s as if you’re his anchor, keeping him grounded in the midst of his emotional storms.

⭑.ᐟ If you manage to tune into his moods and mirror them just right? He will fall SO HARD. You’re not just someone who walks through life with him; you’re his favorite toy, the one he cherishes and plays with endlessly. To him, you’re his “shrimpy,” a term of endearment that makes you feel special and cherished.

⭑.ᐟ Floyd expresses his love through touch, often reaching for you. He’s the type who’ll grab your hand without a second thought, throw his arm around your shoulder possessively, or pick you up effortlessly, spinning you around as if you were a plushie in his grasp. His affection isn’t limited to light touches; he loves giving you squeezes that are more than just hugs. Full-body wraps where he lifts you off the ground entirely, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. “Squeeze time~! Don’t run, Shrimpy~!” he’ll tease, his voice light and playful, making you feel safe and cherished.

⭑.ᐟ When he’s sleepy, that clinging nature intensifies. He’ll tangibly wrap his whole body around you, like a heated blanket, and he’ll pout adorably if you even dare to suggest leaving his side. His sleepy eyes, adorned with long lashes, reflect an almost childlike need for closeness in those moments.

⭑.ᐟ Ask you weird, random questions just to hear your answers or just to hear you laugh. “Hey Shrimpy, if I was a bird, would you still date me?”, he’ll ponder, tilting his head in that adorable way he does. “How many marshmallows do you think I could fit in my mouth at once?” he’ll challenge with a glint of mischief in his eye. (He tests it. You stop him at 11.)

[skywalkerslvt]

Sticky- Peter Parker x AFAB!Reader

❥Pairing: Peter Parker x AFAB!reader

❥CW: smut, p in v, sub peter, inappropriate use of web shooters, riding, 826 words

❥Summary: You find one of peter's sensitive spots while riding him (his wristussy)

❥a/n: This fanart inspired this fic 🤭This was written with Tobey's spiderman in mind cuz of the natural web shooters but it can be read as any of them as long as u keep the web shooters in mind!! Hope u enjoy this mini fic i wrote <3 pics are from pinterest

Peter's breath came in ragged gasps as you rocked your hips over him, your hands pinning his wrists above his head. Every movement drew a shaky groan from his throat, his body trembling beneath you, trying to keep some semblance of control. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, every inch of him hot and pulsing, hitting just the right spot as you moved, your pace deliberate and slow.

The room was thick with the sound of your bodies coming together-soft gasps, broken moans, the wet sounds of your slickness as you took him deeper. Peter's eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to hold himself together.

But as your fingers lightly grazed his wrists, brushing over the spot where his web-shooters lay, his reaction was instantaneous. His body jolted hard, hips bucking up into you as his eyes snapped open wide, pupils blown with shock. His breath hitched sharply.

"W-what?" His voice cracked, laced with confusion, and the look on his face was almost desperate. He had no idea what just happened, and his bewilderment only made the heat in your core flare higher.

A slow, teasing grin spread across your face as you stilled your hips, locking your gaze on his. You pressed your thumbs harder into his wrists, feeling something tense beneath his skin. His reaction was even more intense this time-a loud, choked moan ripped from his throat, his hips jerking uncontrollably beneath you.

"Oh," you murmured, your voice dripping with mischief. "What's this?"

Peter's eyes were wide, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. "I-l don't know," he gasped, his voice tinged with panic. His head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving as his body trembled under your touch. "What are you-"

You chuckled softly, rubbing your thumbs over the same spot again, watching his entire body shudder beneath you. The confusion on his face only deepened, and you couldn't help but enjoy his unravelling. His hips moved of their own accord, desperate for more friction.

"You're so sensitive here," you whispered, grinding your hips down on him again. He was throbbing inside you, and you could feel how close he was.

His cock twitched with every brush of your fingers over his wrist, his moans growing louder, needier.

"F-fuck," he whimpered, his hands clenching into fists where you had them pinned above his head. "I'm gonna-"

You pressed your thumbs down again, rubbing in tight circles as you moved your hips harder, faster. "Do it," you breathed, leaning down to kiss his neck, your voice low and commanding. "Let go."

With a strangled cry, Peter's entire body went rigid beneath you as he came, his hips jerking wildly as he filled you. But just as the wave of pleasure crashed over him, his wrists spasmed, and-without warning-thick webs shot from his wrists, splattering the headboard and the wall behind him.

"What the—?" Peter gasped, eyes flying open in complete shock, staring at the sticky mess with wide eyes. His chest heaved, his mind clearly scrambling to process what had just happened. "Did I-did I just-?"

You stared at the webs hanging from the headboard, equally surprised, before a slow grin spread across your face. "Oh my God," you said, laughing breathlessly. "Did you mean to do that?”

Peter's face flushed a deep red, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment washing over him as he glanced at the webs, then back at you.

"What– no! I didn't–I didn't know that would happen!" he stammered, his voice hoarse, still catching his breath.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, leaning down to press your lips against his. "That was... something else," you murmured against his lips, still teasing.

"Didn't know you had that in you."

Peter was still wide-eyed, his body trembling with the aftershocks, clearly struggling to comprehend the sudden, overwhelming pleasure that had made him lose control like that. "I–I didn't either," he mumbled, looking like he didn't know whether to be embarrassed or turned on.

You raised an eyebrow, running your hands over his wrists again, a devious smile curling at your lips. "I kinda want to try that again."

Peter's eyes widened, and his breath hitched, a mix of panic and excitement crossing his face. "Wait—now?"

You grinned down at him, leaning closer so your lips were just inches from his. "You're telling me you don't want to see if it happens again?"

Peter swallowed hard, looking dazed and overwhelmed as your fingers trailed back to his wrists, teasing that sensitive spot that had triggered his web-shooting. His lips parted, his body already responding, his cock twitching inside you.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I-yeah, okay, but-"

You take his wrist in your hand, bringing it up to your mouth to press light kisses to his sensitive spot, cutting off his rambling as you rolled your hips again, feeling him harden inside you. "Shh. Just take it like a good boy, Pete.”

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 19

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language & themes, rafe refusing to refer to them cuddling as cuddling, fluff, rafe crashing out internally and also externally (standard cw atp), ANGST, mention of coke usage, rafe on coke, ruthie :)))), rafe having violent thoughts, hints at platonic rafe x kiara, verbal tension/major argument, minor violence (punch to the face), again ANGST and kindaaa s2!rafe vibes at the end (and ig some hints at bpd)

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ you updated cara after waking up (who had spent the night with jj) and she freaked out over everything, insisting that rafe liked you more than you thought, but you said you'd rather play it safe. you and rafe texted a bit. he immediately got riled up about you being in the pogue girls’ group chat, but you reassured him. he also got a bit too comfortable with his flirty pics and wording. cara ditched topper’s ride and chose to drive with john b. at lunch, your parents voiced concern over rafe’s well-being, given ward’s difficult nature. you stuided the afternoon for tomorrow’s math test. after a quick outfit check with the girls, you were picked up at 7. in the car, topper sulked about cara; molly and kelce seemed even closer. at the open air parking lot, you and rafe complimented each other. he was surprisingly gentlemanly, paying for your ticket, coat check, and snacks. after a brief chat with cara and jj, you felt a small pang of jealousy when rafe commented on cara’s nipple piercings. kelce and molly had reserved you and rafe a lounge bed next to them, which made you panic a bit. rafe seemed disappointed and hurt by your distant behavior, but you pulled yourself together and even excused your anxiety to which he reacted surprisingly sweet. a slightly awkward moment arose when he got a boner (probably bc of you) which you managed to defuse by joking around about your teacher’s buttcrack. as it got colder, you hesitantly scooted closer to rafe under the blanket. you lay really close and eventually worked up the courage to fully cuddle with him, pushing aside your fear of rejection. rafe even put your pillow away so it was just the two of you close together. deep down, it started to feel like this maybe meant more than just a newfound friendship.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 15.2k+ (SO SORRY)

✿ A / N ✿ um, yeah. not much to say about this other than AHHHHHHHH. sorry this is so long, i heavily debated if i should cut it before the last scene but i didn't wanna keep you guys on edge for no reason so guess you gotta eat all that shit up. also, hahahah, LOTS of back-and-forth but i HOPE you guys will enjoy the direction i decided to go with (especially bc i'm so anxious about the new problem i'm introducing) and PLS lmk what you think <3 ᓚᘏᗢ

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // S U N D A Y 8 : 0 0 P M

Rafe had stopped counting how many times he’d questioned his sanity this week. The tenth, fourteenth, fiftieth, shit, probably the thousandth time.

With this moment right now? Probably the 1001st.

Because if some asshole had told him at the beginning of the week that seven days later he’d be lying on some stupid shitty lounge bed with some completely random girl back at the time, at some stupid shitty open-air event, watching fucking Barbie with a bunch of stupid shitty people, while you clung to him like a goddamn baby koala—Rafe would’ve beat the fucker right the fuck up.

After that, he probably would’ve done a fat line of coke just because hearing some dumb shit like that required it on principle, and then he’d have gone on with his life.

But now? He probably wouldn’t even beat up that bum Rob. Shit, not even fucker Chris, even if that asshole stood right in front of him talking some bullshit. Because that would mean Rafe had to get up. And that, in turn, would mean he’d have to let go of you.

Of you. Your warm body half-hugging his, your right hand resting comfortably on his upper stomach—a gesture that somehow irritated and grounded him all at once—your head that seemed to fit perfectly on the side of his chest, and fucking hell, your addicting scent mixed with the perfume you wore that was driving him absolutely crazy.

Rafe felt so at ease with you here. The lack of tension, the missing irritation that usually ran through his whole body, confused the absolute fuck out of him.

He didn’t fucking understand why he liked the way you clung to him. Why this felt like doing four lines in a row. Why this absolutely absurd position you two were in had his pulse racing. Why it made his blood rush, his nerves buzz, and his adrenaline shoot through his veins like going 140 mph down the highway with a line in his system.

And what confused him the most—what made him question absolutely everything he’d ever stood for—was why he even allowed it.

Why the actual fuck was Rafe letting some random girl get this close to him—in public, no less—where every shitty bastard and gossip bitch could see? And fucking Kelce, barely a meter away on top of it.

It made no fucking goddamn sense why this felt… normal.

As normal as paying for your ticket and snacks because Rafe had already been in line anyway and it’s not like he was hurting for cash, so he might as well save time and pay for yours too.

And for some fucked up reason, Rafe actually enjoyed doing it.

Why? He had no fucking clue. Most chicks he’d hooked up with expected him to buy them drinks, gifts, dinner, or pay for their nails or whatever the fuck. Like, did he look like a goddamn charity case to them?

But you? You even wanted to pay for yourself, which, as a matter of fact, just made him want to pay for you all the more, just out of fucking principle. No fucking way was Rafe letting himself get turned down.

Shit, seriously, since when had he started chasing after a girl?

But honestly, he didn’t even give a fuck anymore.

He’d already stopped fighting this feeling on Friday night. Because this pull he felt toward you? Simple explanation: you were a very cute girl with a pretty face that drove him absolutely fucking insane with your fucked-up brain—and somehow, Rafe liked that.

He fucked with it.

You being a little nuts, the way you always pissed him off, your weirdness, and the insane shit that ran through your head nonstop. It was like having the human version of Rick and Morty around—deranged, cracked out, and somehow still annoyingly enjoyable. Especially because you weren’t predictable.

As much as that pissed him off as well, he also liked how your reactions always surprised him. You weren’t boring.

Sometimes you were awkward and nervous for no fucking reason, just like earlier when you two had waited in line for snacks. Like what the actual fuck was that? Sometimes you snapped back like your life depended on it, like yesterday, during that stupid argument about you hanging out with Sarah. And sometimes, you even flirted the fuck back—like holy shit, did you actually have a split personality or some shit?

Then again, Rafe wasn’t entirely sure if you were flirting, or just being nice whenever you complimented his looks or had that teasing little twinkle in your eyes.

Nah. You flirting? You always looked like you were about to have a mental breakdown whenever Rafe flirted.

So, you were probably just on that sweet polite girl shit.

Shit. Why was this even taking up space in his head? See what you were doing to him? Your fucking overthinking whatever-the-fuck was rubbing off on him.

NAH, what the fuck was he even thinking? That wasn’t overthinking. Rafe was just following his thoughts a little further than usual.

He wasn’t you. He didn’t have a fucking army of little shitty-ass asshole minions in his head constantly talking shit and running around setting his brain on fire.

…Shit.

Rafe hadn’t even noticed his left hand playing with that stupid crappy bracelet on your wrist, fingers brushing over the little childish charms dangling from it. He couldn’t help it. Somehow, it scratched his brain just right.

And you actually wearing that four-dollar gas station horse-themed friendship bracelet? Stupidly hilarious. But for some goddamn reason, the fact that you wore it filled him with this weird sense of pride (the fuck) and excitement (even bigger the fuck) because you deciding to wear something he had given you? Sure. If you wanted to show off your new possession, Rafe wasn’t gonna stop you.

And as a matter of fact, you weren’t stopping him either from touching that cursed thing in the first place (Shit, why the fuck was he still messing with it?).

Oh! Speaking of touching things he probably shouldn’t be touching.

His right hand, which was resting very comfortably on your blanket-covered waist? The fact you hadn’t stopped him from doing that either really confused the fuck out of him.

Shit, the fact that you’d even initiated this whole laying-on-him-and-clinging-to-him thing in the first place? What the actual fuck. Like Rafe definitely wasn’t complaining about a cute girl like you holding onto him, but seriously—what. You making some kind of move or whatever the hell this was supposed to be? That was the craziest part of tonight.

Sure, it was also fucking insane how hot you looked in that sweet little dress of yours, or how he’d actually fucking gotten bricked up earlier when the same dress had ridden up your thighs, because that had immediately triggered a whole chain reaction of images (which—you reacting that chill about it? Fucking unreal), or the fact that right now he had to hold himself back so badly from not letting his hand wander lower because of the curve of your ass under the blanket?

Shit was driving him absolutely crazy to the point he had to pull up that cursed image you’d burned into his mind of Mr. Martin’s hairy caterpillar-ass or him in a goddamn tankini.

Like, hell no. Fuck you and bless you at the same time for that.

So Rafe kept his hand on your waist, fingers lightly drumming out a rhythm, because honestly? You’d probably freak out—well, the minions in your head would—if that hand actually wandered. And also, he didn’t wanna look like a damn liar because just yesterday he’d made it very clear (again...) that he wasn’t some perv trying to get into your pants.

Okay yeah, he wanted to bend you over, press your face into some sheets, hear those sweet little noises from your lips and—fuck, that wasn’t the point, alright? Just last night, he gave you some physical proof that he’d accepted your weird-ass conclusion that he wanted to be your friend (mainly because you practically forced him into it and, well, he kinda liked you but that also wasn’t the point either, okay?).

So yeah, Rafe definitely wasn’t about to scare you off by making a move that would have you backing away like some scared stray cat.

THEN AGAIN, why the hell had you initiated this, if you supposedly weren’t looking for anything with him, huh? You’d both been lying there pretty damn comfortably. You with your little pillow under his arm and all, and then when you'd sat up, Rafe had honestly thought you were about to have a mini panic attack again—but no.

Fucking hell. You’d actually wanted to lay down on him, and now he was back to the exact same fucking thought cycle he’d just tried to escape, and he hadn’t registered a single damn word that stupid-ass Ken was sobbing about on the screen.

Fucking fantastic.

Maybe one of your shitty little asshole minions had actually infiltrated his brain.

No, fuck that, he just had to face the facts.

You were a sweet, nice girl when you weren’t in your cracked-out mode. As far as Rafe knew, you only hung out with other girls. One of them being your insane best friend (who chose fucking swamp rat Maybank over Topper? Whatever). And Rafe remembered from Sarah and her friendship with Kie that girls didn’t really have boundaries when it came to physical closeness. Cuddling, sleepovers, sharing beds, even making out for fun, all that shit. Stuff Rafe would never in his fucking life do with Kelce or Topper.

So with that in mind, you probably saw this—you two cozied up like this—as just another normal, friendship thing (Rafe still couldn’t believe he agreed to that fucking label). That was probably exactly why it didn’t faze you.

You were used to this with your girl friends.

Fuck, and why the hell did that piss him off now?

The fact that this was just some mundane, platonic thing for you and—fuck that. Jesus Christ, fuck that. What the actual hell was going on with him?

Oh right. He hadn’t done a line since yesterday morning. No wonder his brain was going insane.

Rafe slouched deeper into the seat, this whole mental gymnastics session draining the shit out of him. Your body instinctively adjusted to his as he pulled you in a little closer by your waist and—

Fuck.

The way your hip shifted under that fuzzy blanket as your right leg moved slightly, your knee now resting on his.

Rafe bit the inside of his cheek, trying like hell to think of literally anything else besides the electric shock that movement sent up his leg. How you didn’t seem fazed at all but he was basically losing his goddamn mind.

Like, he actually had to fight off another wave of brutally suggestive thoughts and visuals and—get a fucking grip,dude. The last thing he needed was another goddamn boner within thirty minutes.

Then you’d really think he was some horny fucking bastard. And also? He never got this turned on this quick with any other girl. Did you have some crazy-ass pheromones baked into your insanely good-smelling perfume?

Shit was insane.

With the hand that had been fiddling with your bracelet, Rafe ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, trying to focus on the dumbass movie. He let his hand fall back down onto his stomach, just inches from yours.

There was this urge, this absolutely stupid pull to reach over again. Not just for the crappy bracelet but for your actual hand. Feel your skin, trace the shape of your fingers, map out the patterns of your palm.

He was just curious, okay?

But he didn’t wanna push it. He was already scared that any wrong move might make you recoil. No way you'd—

No fucking way.

Rafe’s heart actually skipped a beat as your hand reached for his. Well, not exactly his hand, but the golden ring around his middle finger, your fingers brushing over it.

“Does it have a meaning?” you asked quietly, eyes focused on the shiny object.

Rafe looked at your soft profile for a moment before saying, “Belonged to my mother.”

Something weird twisted in his chest as your fingers stopped playing with the ring, then pulling away, your hand returning to rest gently on his stomach.

“Shit’s not cursed,” he said with a smirk at your oddly weird reaction.

You let out a soft chuckle, your warm breath ghosting over his hand. “Yeah, no, I know.” After a moment, you added, “It’s really pretty.”

Like you, Rafe thought, but he didn’t dare say that shit out loud.

“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered instead, reaching back out for your bracelet and playing with a tiny dangling heart charm. Ken was whining about something in the background. “Not as pretty as this royal masterpiece, though. Must’ve belonged to some ancient queen or some shit.”

Weirdly enough, the more Rafe looked at it, the more he actually started to think it was pretty. Maybe that was just your effect though.

You let out another soft laugh and Rafe soaked it up like liquid coke. “Cersei Lannister would be jealous.”

Rafe blinked. “Who?”

For some reason, that made you shift.

Rafe’s hand slipped from your waist as you turned toward him, propping yourself up on your left elbow while your other arm rested lightly on his stomach.

“You’ve never seen Game of Thrones?” you asked like it was some kind of personal offense.

Your face was so close now, thanks to how you two had been lying, and Rafe’s eyes briefly flicked to your lips before locking back onto yours. He smiled, shaking his head. “Nah. Not my type of shit.”

You looked like he just insulted your whole family tree. “That ‘shit’ is a masterpiece,” you said, tilting your head. “Well, minus the last two seasons.”

“Oh, I’m sure the sex scenes are real cinematic works of art,” Rafe replied with a crooked grin.

Your nose scrunched up. “You’re probably one of those guys who worships American Psycho. Yeah, not taking your opinion into account.”

“Wow. Acting like you know other guys,” Rafe said, chuckling at your dramatic little scowl.

Okay but like, he did like that movie. Bateman was a cool dude.

You just kept staring at him, brows furrowed like you were trying to decipher some puzzle.

Rafe chuckled again, raising his brows at you with a grin. “What?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it. Probably just Kelce being a dumbass a few feet away.

“This show is a must-watch,” you said, tapping your index finger against his chest.

Oh? This sudden boldness? The way you were initiating physical contact, telling him what to do, trying to boss him around about what trashy TV show he had to watch?

Shouldn't turn him on as much as it did.

“Yeah?” he asked, smirking. “Well, shit. Then I have to watch it.” He couldn’t have said it more sarcastically, but you just nodded all serious.

"Yeah, you have to," you said, expression stern. "I’ll bring the DVDs to school tomorrow and then you’re gonna watch that shit. Two weeks max and no scratches on the discs."

No fucking way you actually insisted on this shit. Also, who the fuck even had DVDs these days?

Rafe scoffed, amused. "Or you leave that shit at home and show me there."

There. That was the reaction he’d been hoping for. That little twitch of your brows, the blink of your eyes, the way you instantly got all awkward again once the minions in your head started realizing what he’d just said.

Shit was hilarious as fuck.

Bzzrt. Seriously, could Kelce stop being so fucking annoying?

Huh.

When Rafe looked over to the right, both Kelce and Molly were cuddled up, giggling at the movie. So either it was crybaby Topper sobbing over Hall again, or Wheezie sending him another one of her weird-ass YouTube conspiracy vids.

“Well, yeah, I guess if you want to,” you said, smiling all awkward.

Rafe raised a brow. “Do you?”

Bzzrt. Rafe was gonna kill that fucker, whoever it was.

Your brows twitched, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his polo as you let the question marinate.

A crooked smile formed on Rafe’s lips. No way the thought of watching that shit at your place made you uncomfortable but lying here with him was fine. Your brain was seriously fucked up.

But by now, he knew exactly how to shut up that one stupid minion in your head: just state the obvious. As much as it pissed Rafe off that he had to do this at all, he’d rather repeat himself a thousand times than go through another long-ass, exhausting convo with you spiraling over some completely unnecessary bullshit.

Bzzrt.

“Okay, let me say it again—” he started calm but firm, but you shook your head with a sheepish smile.

“No,” you let out a chuckle, then nodded. “I mean, yeah, I’d like that.”

That made this weird, fuzzy feeling bubble up in Rafe’s stomach, and the grin came naturally. “Okay, then—”

Bzzrt. Bzzrt.

Okay, that was fucking enough. Who the fuck was blowing up his phone like that?

“Fucking hell, wait a sec, some fucker’s spamming my phone,” he said with a frown and shifted slightly to the side, lifting his hip to grab his phone from his pocket.

Another annoying-ass bzzrt.

He lifted it to his face with his left hand but fucking Face ID bugged out, so he had to awkwardly move his right arm over your head to unlock it manually. That, in turn, made you back off slightly.

His chest clenched as your hand slid off his stomach, your head left his chest, and you shifted onto your back again, your gaze fixed back on Barbie.

Fuck. Seriously. This fucking fucker would catch hands.

Furrowing his brows, he unlocked his phone. And what. the. actual. fuck.

This fucking bitch.

What the actual fuck was she thinking, texting him this bullshit like he fucking cared? Shit. What the fuck?

Shit, hell no. This? This made his blood rush so fucking fast because not only had she chosen now to piss him off, she was also the fucking reason you’d pulled away from him. And Rafe wasn’t sure he could get you to move closer again.

But what really pushed him over the fucking edge was how she had the audacity to throw this passive-aggressive side dig at you. That was what really riled him up. This fucking bitch of all people trying to drag your name through the mud, acting like you weren’t worthy of him when it was the exact fucking—

FUCK.

Rafe could’ve thrown his phone at the screen. Why hadn’t he turned it off before this shitty-ass event? Why had he even bothered checking it?

Shit. And of all people, it was someone he didn’t give a single shit about.

Okay, no. Fuck her. He wasn’t putting up with Ruthie’s bullshit.

He sent her a middle finger emoji and made a mental note to tell that bitch off hard after the event.

He let out an annoyed breath, was about to turn off his phone and maybe try to coax you back to lying on his chest when, of course, Ruthie’s next message popped up.

Shit. He should just turn it off. But something in his gut told him something was off. That bitch lived to rile people up, but the tone of these next messages? It pissed him off too much to ignore.

Rafe shifted up higher, now sitting upright, knees pulled up, and tapped back into the chat.

Rafe stared blankly at the phone screen, fingers nearly digging into the display, pulse pounding, blood rushing through him while his chest rose and fell sharply, a vein popping in his neck as he tried to keep his fucking cool.

He was going to kill her.

He was going to fucking kill that bitch.

Because who the fuck did she think she was? Trying to toy with him like he was one of her stupid, cackling little bitches, when Ruthie’s stupid-ass family wasn’t even close to top-tier on Figure 8.

What did she—how the fuck had she even gotten a video like that? It didn’t make any fucking sense. Rafe always went into a backroom to deal AND do coke. He wasn’t a fucking idiot. He never did that shit in public.

HAH. Probably just fucking with him. Yeah. She was probably just trying to rile him up, fucking around, trying to ruin his moment with you.

Nah, it was probably just one dumb troll videos, fucking around like she always did. Joking, messing with people. Now she thought she could pull that same bullshit with Rafe.

He made sure his phone was muted and clicked on the video, pulse skyrocketing.

Come on. Fucking load.

Oh, that bitch was gonna catch hands for whatever troll video she’d sent. For whatever—

How.

He didn’t—

That didn’t make sense. That was—

No. Fucking shit, NO.

And yet, there it was. Some shaky video starting with Gracie’s front camera, that drunk bitch realizing she was filming herself. The POV switched to the back camera, focusing on two other girls in the kitchen, giggling and waving at the camera before downing shots.

The fucking video wasn’t even about Rafe. Except that it was.

Because in the background, you could see his back—him reaching into his pocket, prepping a line on the kitchen counter, and snorting it right off.

It could’ve been anybody if he hadn’t turned around at the last fucking second and rubbed his nose, the video cutting off as his full face came into frame.

FUCK.

Rafe didn’t even fucking remember that. He knew he’d done some lines that night—like two or three, okay maybe five—but all of them had been in the bathroom or Kelce’s guest room with nobody else around but himself, that fucker Chris, and some other losers.

Fucking hell.

He definitely didn’t remember being in the kitchen alone with Gracie of all people—the girl he’d dumped after a week of hooking up because she annoyed the living fuck out of him. Always clinging to Ruthie’s ass, always babbling about Ruthie. Ruthie this, Ruthie that. Like her whole life revolved around that bitch.

Shit, even during sex, she’d once asked to try a position because it was Ruthie’s favorite. Like—Jesus fuck—what the hell?

That had been the last straw. He’d packed his shit and left. Sure, Gracie had some insane mouth and hand game, but that? That had been beyond fucked.

That had been—

Shit. He remembered now.

He’d gone into the kitchen to look for you after doing lines with Chris and his loser crew in the guest room. But when he came back, you weren’t where he'd left you. Then he’d texted you and you’d replied you were in the bathroom with some guy which later turned out to be a typo for Molly’s name and FUCK.

Rafe had been so on edge, he hadn’t thought, and straight-up done a line in the kitchen.

Shit. Fucking shit.

And of all people, Ruthie had gotten her hands on the video.

Fuck. If she actually released that—

He didn’t give a shit what the school would think. They could kick him out, whatever. Even the cops, what could they do? They had a video, sure, but no real proof of it being coke. It showed him doing white line of something. Could've been flour. So what? Maybe an investigation, a fine. Whatever.

But his dad.

If his dad saw this video, Rafe was fucked. So fucking fucked. He’d—

He’d fucking kill that bitch.

Rafe didn’t even think. Rage and fury flooded his brain.

He set his phone aside, tossed his part of the blanket over your legs, and sat at the edge of the lounge bed, blood boiling as he reached for his shoes.

Oh, that bitch was lucky she wasn’t a guy. So fucking lucky. He would’ve knocked the fuck out of her, wiped that stupid grin off her face, knocked a few teeth loose and—

“Everything okay?”

Rafe stopped.

The turmoil inside him only worsened as he glanced back over his shoulder and met your pretty eyes, that soft glimmer in them. You had sat up too, hugging the blanket around your stomach.

Rafe just wanted to kick off his shoes again and slip right back under the blanket to your warm body. Feel your hand on his stomach, your head on his chest, breathe in your sweet perfume.

Then he remembered he'd only done that cursed line at the party because of you. Because you’d messed with his head with your cryptic-ass texts and your whole vibe and just—

Fuck.

You were the reason Ruthie had him in a fucking chokehold now. You were the reason Rafe had lost his goddamn mind to the point he’d done a stupid fucking line of coke right in the middle of some giggling girls filming him.

Rafe furrowed his brows, jaw clenched tight.

This anger toward you confused him because it clashed hard with that light feeling he’d had just seconds ago, lying there next to you.

"I’ll be right back," was all he said, his voice distant, and it pissed him off, even though he couldn’t stop it.

Your brows twitched and that just fueled his irritation and—

Shit. He could see it in your eyes. Little minions running around, confused and overwhelmed. Fuck, he really didn’t have time for that shit right now.

Rafe had to leave. If he didn’t find Ruthie soon, that fucking video would get out and he’d be fucked. He couldn’t deal with your anxiety spiral right now.

That was something you had to handle on your own now.

Once he’d gotten his other shoe on, he grabbed his phone and stood up, that familiar itch to snort a line crawling into his fingers.

And with that, he walked off, gaze fixed straight ahead, because he couldn’t bear to meet your sad eyes again.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

A girl. He’d been texting another girl.

You hadn’t seen who it was, hadn’t caught her name or profile pic, only the red heart at the bottom of the chat before he’d snatched his phone off the lounge bed and stormed off.

And now you were left alone.

The bed that had felt too small for the two of you earlier now looked way too big and empty. A deep clenching in your chest, a horrible twist in your stomach, and a storm of racing thoughts threatening to suffocate you.

You pulled the fluffy pink blanket higher, hugging your knees to your chest, staring straight ahead and clinging to the traces of warmth and scent he’d left on the fabric.

You didn’t even know what to think or feel. You two had just been so close moments ago—cuddling, the air light and sweet, Rafe actually relaxed.

But now? He’d looked so angry, so pissed off and mad, and you even got the sense that some of it had been directed at you, the way his voice had been so cold.

The fact that he’d even checked his phone to answer some girl while you two had been lying there so cozily... it hurt more than you wanted to admit. And you felt so stupid for feeling like this.

It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything.

Shit. And yet. Deep disappointment and irritation were bubbling up inside you. But even more than that: the question of who that girl was.

Who the hell was she to be sending Rafe little hearts? Who was she that he’d leave you behind to go chase after her? Who the fuck was she that he couldn’t even look at you as he stormed off?

Fuck. Now you were angry? This was so embarrassing and dumb. So many questions and wild theories gathering in your brain, each one worse than the last.

There were a lot of girls at the event tonight. You could rule out some random touron girl or a Pogue for obvious reasons. That just didn’t add up.

So... probably someone from school.

Maybe some ex-fwb who got jealous seeing you two together, or someone hoping to get back with him. Or maybe—

Ruthie was here. Cara had said she'd seen her with Topper. And where Ruthie was, Gracie usually wasn’t far.

Your heart sank.

She’d been one of his recent fwb situations. Sure, that had been a few months ago and hadn’t lasted long, as far as you could remember, but... could she be the one texting him?

Although, she hadn’t seemed particularly interested in Rafe at the party, or even at school, really. Even during the Truth or Dare game Friday night—she had sat on his right, yeah—but you remembered she hadn’t paid him any attention if you were being honest. Just giggling about Ruthie leading the game.

Besides, Gracie was pretty reserved and passive. Ruthie was the mouth of the duo, the one holding the whip.

So... maybe Ruthie had told Gracie to text Rafe? Just to mess with you two.

Okay, no. Wait. That’s... jesus christ. That’s borderline insane.

AHHHHH, were you really putting that much importance on yourself that you thought Ruthie would go out of her way to ruin something between you and Rafe? Which, what even was there to ruin?? Like it’s not like you two were a couple or anything, it was just this maybe kind of vibe, this budding friendship—

Ughhhhhhhh, strong secondhand embarrassment right here.

Sure, Ruthie didn’t seem to like you but to be fair, the feeling was mutual. But you clearly weren’t a threat to her. She had never paid you any attention before, so why would she now?

Okay ew, no. Scratch that thought immediately and pretend it never happened.

And besides—hello?? Rafe cuddled with you. CUDDLED.

No way he’d just throw that away to go make out with some random girl. Especially not when he’d seemed so at ease and relaxed with you. Like, come on. You didn’t want to act all full of yourself or anything but no way some ex-whatever-girl was more interesting than you right now.

HAH. That’s exactly what Cara would say. First she’d screech like a banshee at the fact that you and Rafe had cuddled, and then she’d say something like "Girl, no way he’s trading the comfort and safety of your boobs pressed to him for some dry-ass blowie from a rando bitch."

Wow. Thanks, imaginary Cara. #actuallyschizophrenic

Also, you kind of forgot the most important detail: Rafe had looked furious. Not just annoyed or moody, no, full-on I’m gonna beat someone up energy.

So maybe it wasn’t a girl at all. Maybe it was a guy texting him and the heart was some passive-aggressive way to piss him off.

Ohhhh, yeah, that would make sense.

You hadn’t seen Chris around, so maybe some other frat guy? Or maybe even a customer?

OH YEAH. Rafe dealt coke. Let’s not forget that. Maybe it was just some very urgent “business” emergency or whatever.

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH SURE PROBABLY THAT.

Then again, hahahahha, why would he go deal coke NOW, right in the middle of cuddling and watching a movie?? Like?????

UGH. Why couldn’t he have just told you why he was leaving? Then you wouldn’t be sitting here spiraling over something that was probably nothing. Maybe he was just taking a piss and the texts weren’t even related to why he'd left at all.

AHHHHHH so many possibilities, GONNA GO INSANE NOW HAHAHAHHA

No seriously. Chill. The minions in your brain were just going crazy for no reason (oh god am I actually adopting Rafe’s metaphors now welp).

AND ALSO, Rafe had said he’d be right back. No point spiraling over this right now, RIGHT?

You exhaled slowly and pulled the blanket up to your shoulders. Your left hand reached for the bracelet on your wrist, playing with the little dangling charms.

He’d come back soon. And then you could enjoy the rest of the movie, cuddled up with him again.

Except… he didn’t.

You spent the next thirty minutes alone on that lounge bed, hugging your blanket close, trying not to think about how humiliating and embarrassing you felt surrounded by all these other people who were sharing their lounge beds with someone else. Some of them had even watched Rafe leave, and now you looked like some stupid girl who just got ghosted.

And that’s exactly how you felt.

You didn’t even dare to look around, especially not to the right where Molly and Kelce were cuddling barely a meter away. This was just...

I'm so fucking stupid for believing this could’ve meant ANYTHING at all. That in some dumb, pathetic way you’d actually thought you meant something to Rafe after yesterday.

Am I just being angry for no reason?

You furrowed your brows, pulling your legs in even closer, tears threatening to rise, especially now that America Ferrera’s character was delivering this insanely powerful and gut-punching speech about women in the modern world.

And then the anger hit you at how right she was, at how fucking mistreated women were (not like that was news but right now it just hit differently), at the fact that Rafe had left you again, like he’d done at Kelce’s party to go deal coke, and now he was maybe balls deep in some girl in one of the toilet stalls while you were lying here alone like some stupid, naive idiot.

And now Ferrera was preaching about how women shouldn’t settle for less, how you should know your self-worth, about how society always expected you to be grateful for even the tiniest crumbs, even if they were against you.

LIKE NO. Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck Rafe and his stupid—

The cushion beside you dipped. Startled, you looked away from the screen, expecting to see Rafe but instead, big brown eyes and a furrowed brow greeted you.

“You okay?” Kie asked, her tone laced with anger, though it didn’t feel directed at you.

You blinked, completely taken off guard seeing her here—and then realized, shit, you actually were crying.

You instinctively wiped your tears away, feeling ridiculously stupid and pathetic and gave her a forced smile.

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” you said, scooting a little to the right so she could sit properly.

But Kie didn’t move.

“Do you wanna come join us?” she asked, hesitating a bit before carefully adding, “I doubt he’s coming back.”

Your stomach twisted at hearing what you already knew deep down.

But facing everyone like this now? No way. You didn’t want their pity or well-meaning sympathy right now. So you shook your head, forcing another smile.

“No, I… it’s fine. I’m good here,” you said, and you both knew you were lying.

Kie held your gaze for a moment, her expression stern. Then she moved away from the edge and sat down next to you in the spot that had been Rafe’s.

Somehow that made your chest tighten.

“It’s not fine,” Kie said quietly, shaking her head. “Rafe doesn’t get to play the asshole whenever he feels like it.”

You knew she was right, and yet…

“I don’t think he means it badly,” you said and immediately questioned yourself for saying that.

Kie clearly thought the same, judging by the way she looked at you. “He left you here. Don’t tell me you’re defending his shitty behavior.”

“No, but—” You blinked. How did she even know he’d been gone in the first place? “Did you see him?”

For a brief second, an image of Kie and Rafe together somewhere on the event grounds popped into your head but you quickly pushed that absurd thought away.

“He almost walked me and Cleo over when we came back from the snack bar,” Kie explained. “Seemed like he’d just come from the toilet stalls.” She furrowed her brows. “Then he pretty much stormed off toward the exit. Looked like he was about to kill someone.”

…

Oh.

He left.

Not just for 30 minutes. No, he actually left.

The feeling that rose in your chest… you couldn’t even describe it. It just felt hollow. Like a deep, deep hole that had just gotten even deeper after hearing Kie’s words.

You didn’t even— what the hell was going on with him? You didn’t understand. This just seemed off. Sure, his mood swings were completely unpredictable but going from cuddling straight to ditching the entire event?

Maybe something had happened? Like a family emergency? But then again, Sarah was still here. If something had happened, wouldn’t she have been alerted too?

All of it felt so strange. And somehow, your gut was telling you something bad must’ve happened, something that had rattled Rafe enough to make him bolt like that. And now you felt bad for thinking all those horrible things about him earlier.

“Did you see if anyone was with him?” you asked anyway, dreading the answer.

Kie curled her lips and shook her head. “To be honest, I just came straight here. I figured he didn’t tell you he'd leave. He’s an ignorant asshole.”

God, Kie was way sweeter than you’d initially thought.

“I don’t get why he’d leave without at least saying something,” you said, brows furrowing. “That’s just… I don’t get it.”

Kie made a bitter grimace. “There’s nothing to get. He’s always been like that. There’s no changing him. Trust me, okay?”

That… didn’t sound like someone who just disliked a guy. It sounded like someone who had history with him. Which made you feel all kinds of weird. Like you were talking to some ex of his, even though you didn’t actually know what had gone down between them. If anything had even gone down.

And because you didn’t want to make assumptions, you just said it straight out: “That sounds like you two used to be close.”

Kie’s brows twitched and she looked away for a second, as if debating whether to open up. In the background, the Barbies were currently executing their plan to take back Barbieland.

“Not in the way you might think,” she finally said, hugging her knees up to her chest. “When I first became friends with Sarah as kids, Rafe was always hanging around too. Back then he wasn’t such a massive asshole. More like a friendless loser, honestly.” She let out a small laugh. “He’d always crash our hangouts, trying to annoy us—me especially—but once I put him in his place, he was… actually kind of okay to be around.” A distant smile touched her lips. “I’m an only child but I guess he was the closest thing I had to an older brother.”

Her smile faded quickly, that stern expression returning. “And when their mom died, everything just… changed. I mean, of course it did. But Rafe… he suddenly seemed to hate Sarah. He got more aggressive. More distant. But she was my best friend, so obviously I stuck by her when it felt like he wanted me to pick sides. It only got worse when I joined the KA in ninth grade.” Kie grimaced. “He grew almost obsessed with trying to turn me against her. So I put a stop to it. Eventually, he backed off. But it’s Rafe,” she said bitterly, “if he can ruin someone’s day, he will.”

She held your gaze, a kind of bittersweetness behind her eyes. “I’m not saying he’s toying with you. Actually, I’m pretty convinced he’s horribly into you and just doesn’t know how to deal with that because it freaks him out.” A small, frowning shake of her head. “Still doesn’t excuse his shitty behavior.”

You just stared at her, kind of baffled. Only the sound of Ryan Gosling’s Ken singing “Push” while playing guitar in the background grounded you, which, disturbingly, kinda described Rafe's dynamic with you a little too well.

The fact that she and Rafe had been kind of sibling-like once… that was unexpected, but honestly very sweet. And the idea that the three of them—Kie, Sarah, Rafe—had once been some little trio? That hit in a way you hadn’t expected.

And here you’d been feeling jealous like some stupid crazy bitch.

But what really threw you off were her last words. Hearing her say—she, who had been so skeptical just the day before, clearly judging your whole thing with Rafe—that she actually believed he might actually…

GOD, YOU COULDN’T EVEN THINK IT. Didn’t want to. Scared it might jinx it.

Kie's features softened slightly when she saw your expression, letting out a sigh. “I can tell you genuinely seem to like him, and I think you could actually be really good for him in the long run.” She raised her brows, amused. “JJ said Rafe only almost decked him earlier when you'd talked.”

That made you chuckle too.

“That’s why my only advice to you is,” she continued, her expression turning serious again, “Don’t let his bullshit slide. Ever. Rafe is a very difficult person but whatever he’s dealing with doesn’t excuse being an asshole.” Her features softened again as her eyes landed on your bracelet. “Still, I believe he has so much to give to the right person.” She met your gaze again. “Maybe it's you.”

JESUS CHRIST. This was just... A LOT.

Her spilling some crazy backstory about their past, the bittersweet tone in her voice when she talked about him, the fucking fact that she thought Rafe might actually have caught feelings for you AND HOLY FUCKING SHIT, her thinking YOU might actually be good for him?

God, and on top of that, her still seeming to care about him even after their falling out, despite how much she’d learned to dislike him…

It just hurt even more because it felt like she didn’t want you to go through what she had, and AHHHHHH I CANNOT.

You hugged your legs closer, eyeing her, completely stunned. “That... I don’t even…” you started, but nothing felt more fitting right now than: “Thank you.” You smiled, genuinely. “For making me feel better and… for sharing this with me.” You let out a sheepish little laugh, playing with the charms on your bracelet. “And for looking out for me in the first place.”

Kie’s mouth twitched into a smile, her gaze flicking away from yours for a second. “To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of it—how you seemed to actually like Rafe. It’s just… he’s turned into this cocky, pushy, aggressive guy, and I couldn’t really believe someone like you would hang out with him willingly.”

She shook her head and met your eyes again. “But then I saw you two together on the event field earlier, and there was this calmness to him.” A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “It’s like he lets himself relax when he’s around you.”

OKAY BYE. THAT WAS THE FINAL BLOW. HOLY SHIT.

All of this spilling out of Kie, It was just... a lot to process.

Not to mention the entire situation in the first place, and as much as you appreciated her words, her presence, everything, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to go after Rafe now. Check the parking lot or wherever he’d gone because he definitely hadn’t gone home. You all arrived with Topper’s car.

But you stayed put.

As much as your heart was aching to run after him, to find out what was going on, to understand why he’d left you like that, hell, even just to talk it out, you didn’t want to leave Kie behind.

She didn’t seem like the type to just open up easily or willingly to some girl she’d known for a day, so this felt like a rare moment—something real between you two. And you definitely didn’t want to pull a Rafe move on her.

“I can’t believe I’m putting up with his bullshit either,” you finally said, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I guess... part of me also relaxes around him. I don’t know, he just… helps me get out of my head.” You chuckled softly. “Even if he does it in the worst way possible.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, thinking about how hurt he’d looked earlier. “And I’m far from a saint either. I have a huge overthinking problem, and it messes with my relationships a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he still sticks around, considering I drive him up the wall most of the time.”

That got a genuine laugh out of Kie and she shook her head. “Sounds like you’re handling him just right then.”

You smiled, the heaviness in your chest easing a little. Grateful for Kie’s honesty and her presence.

And when you noticed the goosebumps on her arms, a soft breeze blowing through her brown locks, you immediately reached for the fluffy pink blanket and held it up for her.

Shit, you hadn’t even noticed she was probably freezing. Oops.

Kie eyed you for a second, something like hesitation in her gaze, but then she smiled and scooted closer, grabbing one end of the blanket and pulling it up to her chest.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, adjusting into a more comfortable position, her shoulder now resting against yours.

That somehow marked the end of the whole Rafe conversation.

The next twenty minutes were spent snuggled up under the blanket, sharing warmth, giggling about how pathetic Ken had been at the end (Kie compared him to Rafe which just made you laugh harder), snacking on Rafe’s leftover nachos and your own snacks, and almost (definitely) crying during the crazy emotional montage of Barbie experiencing girlhood and humanity in a speedrun. You were pretty sure you even heard Kelce sobbing next to you.

No better way to bond than over Barbie.

After the movie ended, the screen showed a 45-minute countdown until Transformers would start. In the meantime, most people got up to stretch, run to the restroom, grab new snacks and drinks, and some even left—they’d only come for Barbie.

You and Kie had left the blanket on your seats and headed straight to the stalls (you made sure to take a wide detour around Kelce and Molly because the last thing you needed was them asking questions about Rafe or making comments about you two cuddling).

Inside the stall, you pushed down all your anger and confusion and decided to send Rafe a quick text because, more than anything, you were actually worried.

Ughhh, is that too clingy? PROBABLY.

But you didn’t care. He’d spammed your entire phone this afternoon with cursed and suggestive pics, so you could definitely drop one little concerned text. Besides, it had been almost an hour since he'd left, and the fact that he hadn’t sent even a small update was kind of weird.

Rude. Ignorant. Definitely an asshole move. But somehow Kie had eased your thoughts so much that it didn’t feel like he left because he regretted cuddling with you, or ran off to find another girl, no, it felt like something must’ve happened. Something serious.

And your gut told you that if Rafe was spooked enough to leave like that, it had to be bad (And you had your dad’s gut and his was never wrong. So that had to mean something, at least)

Outside the toilet stalls, girls were giggling and chatting about the movie, laughing about the Kens, quoting America Ferrera’s monologue, and praising the message of the film.

You even recognized Cara’s voice when you stepped out to wash your hands.

“I swear, I dated a guy exactly like that once,” she said. “He literally played the same song and stared at me the exact same way. Most horrendous moment of my life.”

More laughter followed.

You chuckled to yourself, shouldered your bag, and took a deep breath. This was going to be the most awkward and interrogative interaction of your life.

As you made your way through the crowd of girls still in line, stepping out of the restroom cabin, all eyes snapped toward you the second you joined the group.

Legitimately everyone was there. The Pogues, Cara, even Kelce and Molly. Surprised Topper wasn’t there too.

Great.

Everyone was here—except the one person you desperately wanted to see.

Just smile. Prepare for some horrible question like Where’s Rafe?, Did you guys fight?, Why’d he leave?, Kelce said he saw you cuddling, blah blah blah.

UGHHHHH.

But to your surprise, they stayed quiet. Smiling in that way that said we know what happened but we’re not gonna overwhelm you.

And worst of all? Every single face was filled with pity. The last thing you wanted.

Except Kie's. She had this genuine smile, one that said don’t worry, I made sure they wouldn’t bombard you with questions.

“Alriiiight,” JJ said, clapping his hands. “Shots?”

Everyone seemed to agree.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“…and then he left,” you finished your little recap of tonight’s events as you and the girls were sitting at a high table on barstools near the bar at the edge of the event venue.

The boys were sitting a few tables down, laughing loudly at some nonsense. Kelce and JJ had clicked immediately. Not surprising at all, considering both of them were party animals with the same extroverted energy.

Anyway. You hadn’t really had a choice not to tell the girls about your night with Rafe because they’d been staring at you for the past ten minutes like you were a bomb about to explode. And also, they’d tried acting normal in a painfully awkward way. Failed miserably.

You’d asked them to just listen first and not interrupt, though, because otherwise it would turn into an endless back-and-forth, and you hadn’t even wanted to talk about this in the first place.

All five of them stared at you blankly.

And then Cara exploded. “YOU FUCKING CUDDLED?!”

Jesus Christ—that was probably loud enough for half of the North Side to hear.

“Did you not hear the part where he just left her?” Cleo said with an amused expression.

Cara nodded wildly. “Absolute asshole move, yeah, I’m definitely gonna kill him next time I see him but—” She shook her head and gestured her hands in your direction, nearly knocking over Kie’s drink. “YOU CUDDLED. I—That’s—Someone call 911, I think I’m having a heart attack.”

You and Sarah chuckled while Cleo and Kie just shook their heads.

“He wasn’t even watching the movie,” Molly said with a smile, playing with the straw in her mojito. “Every time I looked over, he was just gazing at her.”

WHAT.

Cara shrieked and almost fell off her barstool.

“And yet he still left,” Kie said dryly, shaking her head with a grimace. “Can we please not gloss over that.”

Molly nodded. “I’m really sorry about that. I wanted you to come over and join me and Kelce, but he insisted Rafe would be back soon. And when I did want to get up, Kiara was already with you.”

Um... yeah, you were pretty glad you hadn’t joined Molly and Kelce. That lounge bed was definitely too small for three people, and you absolutely didn’t feel like third-wheeling like some loser.

Still, the thought counted.

“Thanks, but it’s all good,” you said with a smile.

Sarah shifted in her seat, brows furrowed. “I just can’t believe he’d leave you like that. And you really didn’t see who messaged him?”

You shook your head. “No. Just that most of the texts seemed to be from the one texting him, and at the end I just saw a red heart in one of the messages. That’s it.”

“That’s so weird,” Sarah said. “I honestly can’t think of anyone that could’ve been. Maybe Wheeze needed to be picked up from Theo’s? He does live pretty far from Tannyhill. Maybe Dad or Sasha couldn’t go. That could explain why he looked so pissed, like you said. Maybe he was just mad the night got ruined.”

You assumed Sasha was the Camerons’ housekeeper.

You tilted your head. “But then why wouldn’t he just say that? Like, that wouldn’t even have been a problem. And besides, he said he’d be right back.”

“And also, how would he even have left?” Cara added. “They all arrived with Topper's car."

Sarah nodded. “Oh right.” She tilted her head. “Did he maybe ask him for the keys?”

Cara shook her head with a nope look. “It’s his mom’s Range Rover. I’m surprised he even got to drive it. No way he’d let Rafe take it.”

You all just stared at her.

“What?” she said. “He whined to me about it at the party on Friday, okay?”

Uh-huh.

“Well, have you texted him?” Cleo asked you, crossing her arms on the table. “Seems like the easiest way to find out what’s going on.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but he hasn’t answered yet.”

And right on cue, your phone buzzed in your purse.

Your heart skipped a beat, pulse shooting up, everyone watched you expectantly as you pulled your phone out but that feeling quickly faded.

“Topper,” you said, disappointment leaking into your voice. Then you picked up. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he said on the other end, voice sounding weird. “Do you have a minute?”

Aaaand your heart was back in the race. “Uh… sure, I guess. Where are you? Everything okay?” Is Rafe with you? you almost asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound convincing. “I’m at the archway.”

You blinked and looked over your shoulder, spotting his silhouette—at least you thought it was him—at the far end of the venue. He seemed to be alone.

“Okay, uh, we’re at the bar,” you said, turning back around. “Don’t you wanna come over? Kelce is here too.”

A pause. Then: “Cara’s with you, right?”

Instinctively, your eyes met hers. “Yeah.”

“Um,” he gave a strained chuckle, “I’d rather not then.”

You nearly frowned. Was he seriously still sulking because she didn’t accept his ride offer?

Whatever.

“Alright, I’ll be right there,” you said, and the girls shot you weird looks.

You could practically hear Topper exhale in relief. “Thanks.”

With that, you hung up and shouldered your bag.

“What?” Cara asked, frowning. “He’s afraid of coming over here or what?”

Sarah and Molly chuckled.

You shrugged and slid off the stool. “No idea. I’ll be right back. Maybe he knows something about Rafe.”

Cara was already about to protest, making a move to join you, but you shook your head with an amused smile. “Stay here. I got this.”

“Tell him his drama queen behavior is such a turn-off,” she muttered, and the others laughed in agreement.

As you made your way across the venue, you gripped the strap of your bag tighter. Your hands were clammy with nerves, unsure what exactly Topper needed to talk to you about. And now that you were away from the fireplace at the bar, a cold night breeze whipped across your bare arms and you just now realized how much the temperature had dropped.

Great. And Rafe had the ticket for your jacket at the coat check.

Even though you were cold, kinda annoyed that Topper hadn’t come over himself, and hadn’t even said what this was about, you still managed a smile as you finally reached him at the archway.

“Hey,” you said. “Everything okay? What’s going on?”

Why was he standing here alone? Hadn’t he spent the whole evening with Ruthie’s girl squad? And most importantly: Did something happen to Rafe? Because the tension in his smile definitely hinted at something serious.

Topper nodded. “Yeah, uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, no.” He pressed his lips together and sighed. “I feel stupid for even asking you to come over here. I mean I don’t wanna drag you into something you’re not really involved in.”

Again, you almost frowned. So this wasn’t about Rafe. It was about Cara.

Great :)

“But,” he continued, “I’m just… I’m confused. About Cara, I mean. Her whole vibe.”

Then why don’t you just talk to her??? (Okay girl, calm down, no need to take it out on the poor guy who’s probably just looking for some clarity. Just like you.)

You hugged yourself from the cold and tilted your head. “I get why you're irritated, but honestly, I think it’s best if you just talk to her yourself. I’m really not in a position to speak for her.”

Topper nodded. “I know and I—I wanted to but she’s either been with Sarah or Maybank the whole night, and I didn’t wanna approach her with those two around.”

Okay, JJ you understood, but Sarah? That just seemed like a lame excuse. Oh, wait— didn’t Rafe mention during his little hate speech yesterday that Sarah tried to turn Topper against him too? So maybe there was some history between them.

“Well, she’s free now,” you said, rubbing your arms. “Want me to go get her?”

Please say yes, it’s freezing out here.

Topper’s brows twitched and he scratched his chin. “You think she’d even wanna talk to me?”

If you keep being this self-pitying, then probably not. Holy shit, girl, calm the fuck down. This was Rafe infiltrating your brain.

Wait—

RAFE!

Your heart stopped when you spotted him a few meters away, coming from the parking lot with the biggest scowl known to man. He made a quick stop at the register, probably because the cashier had called him over. Probably wanted to check his ticket.

Your gaze flicked back to Topper, pulse racing now, adrenaline shooting high. You nodded quickly.

“Yeah, yeah! Sure,” you said, probably grinning like a maniac. "Actually, I think she’d really love it if you went up to her. I mean, Cara likes it when guys take initiative.”

UGHHHH that sounded so stupid, no way he would—

“You think so? I don’t—”

Another quick nod. “Yeah, definitely. You can trust me on this.”

PLEASE JUST GO, NEED TO TALK TO RAFE.

Topper hesitated, then nodded with a somewhat relieved smile. “Yeah, okay.” He took a step forward, but then paused, eyeing you in confusion. “Aren’t you also—”

“Yo, Top!”

Both you and Topper turned, and your heart plummeted as you saw the furious look on Rafe’s face while he marched toward you. His expression twisted into an irritated, almost maniacal grin locked solely on Topper.

Topper didn’t even get the chance to react before Rafe shoved him in the chest. “You’re a fucking shitface,” Rafe hissed, not even sparing you a glance.

“Hey, man, what—what’s going on?” Topper looked totally confused, rubbing his chest after stumbling back a step.

Rafe scoffed, tapping his chest with both hands. “You trying to fuck me over or some shit, huh? Trying to act like some little backstabbing piece of shit?”

You just stood there, frozen, completely stunned by the whole situation. A few people nearby had already started glancing over.

Topper shook his head, brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Oh, real funny.” Rafe clicked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. Then, without warning, he stepped forward, grabbing Topper by the collar and towering over him. “I think you know damn well what the fuck I’m talking about.”

Topper blinked, clearly completely thrown. “No, dude. I have no idea what you—”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Rafe said, nodding, the corners of his mouth twitching downward. There was something seriously unsettling about his tone. He gave Topper a hard shake and raised his voice: “You think I’m fucking stupid, huh? You think I—”

“Get the fuck off me,” Topper snapped, shoving Rafe’s hands off. “You’re coked up, dude. I don’t even fucking know what you’re on about—”

Rafe’s fist connected with Topper’s face with a sickening crack. A pained groan escaped Topper as he stumbled sideways, his hand flying to his cheek. “What the fuck?!”

Horrified, you gasped. A few girls nearby even shrieked.

But Rafe didn’t stop. He stepped forward again, looking like he was about to beat Topper to a pulp but instead grabbed his collar once more, just about to open his mouth when:

“Rafe!”

Kelce’s voice rang out suddenly, with John B and Sarah right behind him.

Rafe’s head snapped up and he scoffed, shaking his head. “Shiiit. Is this some kind of fucking joke?” He shoved Topper away and threw a mocking gesture toward Kelce. “You too now, huh?” He let out something like a chuckle but it sounded more like a disbelieved scoff. Tapping his chest again, he said, “Both of you trying to fuck with me, huh?”

“Dude, you need to chill out,” Kelce said, and it was wild how weird his voice sounded when he was serious. "What's going on?"

Rafe tilted his head, and everything about him screamed danger. “Chill, yeah? Just like you’re chillin’ with fucking pogue rats now, huh?”

“Rafe,” Sarah said, and his head immediately snapped toward her. “Seriously, you need to—”

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare tell me what to do,” Rafe snapped, stepping toward her with a shake of his head.

John B stepped in front of Sarah, chin raised, and Rafe stopped in his tracks with another scoff, rubbing over his nose with a sniff. He nodded. “Sweet. Yeah. That’s fucking sweet. Y’all a big happy fucking family now or what?”

“Dude,” Kelce said, stepping in and grabbing Rafe’s shoulder but Rafe immediately shoved his hand away.

Kelce raised his hands and backed off. “You need to get your shit together, bro.”

Two mean-looking security guys were already heading straight toward the commotion. The whole nearby area had quieted down, all eyes on you.

Rafe didn’t give a damn. His gaze was now locked back on John B.

Oh god—and the security guys looked like the kind who’d knock someone out first and ask questions later. They were heading straight for Rafe.

“Step back! Now!” one of them yelled.

Jesus Christ, and that idiot just turned to them with a provocative smile on his face, clearly ready to stir up more shit but you couldn’t bear to watch him get beat up again.

Heart pounding like mad, you stepped up to Rafe, hesitantly reaching for his arm. Your heart sank to your stomach when he grabbed your wrist tightly with his other hand, probably thinking it was Topper or Kelce.

“Rafe,” you said, voice shaking.

His head snapped toward you, and for a second, you thought he’d push you away but the moment his blown-wide pupils met your eyes, his grip immediately loosened, his brows twitching as he stared at you.

One of the security guards was about to grab Rafe, but you quickly shook your head, letting go of his arm and stepping halfway in front of him, giving the grim-looking guy a nervous smile. “It’s okay, he—we’re leaving.”

“No, the fuck, we’re not.”

You turned back to Rafe, planting your hands firmly on his chest as he tried to step forward again. You looked up at him, pleading, hoping he’d have some shred of sense left.

“Please,” you whispered, your heart hammering at the fury in his eyes. “If they call the cops, and they see you like this…”

They’d know immediately he was on something. They’d run tests—oh god, and if he had a baggie on him, it’d be over. He’d be arrested, charged, investigated, and—

You felt the warmth of his chest slip from beneath your hands as he took a step back. With a big, crooked grin, he threw his hands up for a second, gaze still locked on the security behind you.

“Chill the fuck out, aight?” he said, then let his hands drop, his expression twisting into a scowl as he looked first at Topper, then Kelce, then Sarah. He shook his head, his voice full of scorn and detachment—almost not even sounding like him when he said: “Fucking backstabbing rats. All of you. You fit right into this little play-pretend family.”

Everyone just watched him storm off in stunned silence, completely speechless.

“If your friend comes back again, he’s getting more than a warning,” one of the security guards said.

John B mumbled something in response, but you didn’t even register it, the blood was rushing in your ears too loud, your heart pounding wildly, eyes fixed on Rafe’s back as he disappeared through the entrance.

Kelce stepped forward and said something like “I’ll go after him,” but you were faster.

You didn’t think. Didn’t give yourself the chance to second-guess. Didn’t even hear Kelce call after you as you took off after Rafe.

Gripping the strap of your bag tightly, you rushed through the archway, past the entrance and register. Your cheeks flushed with adrenaline as you stepped into the gravel parking lot, scanning frantically for his familiar silhouette.

The warm lights of the lanterns and the cool milky hue of the moon mixed together, bathing the parked cars in a spectacle of gold and silver surfaces.

And then—there!

Just straight ahead, a silhouette walking off.

You rushed after him, feet hitting the gravel path, every step in sync with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Rafe,” you called after him, a weird feeling spreading in your chest as he didn’t stop.

You pushed down the anxiety and doubts and called his name again. “Wait. Please.”

The silhouette came to a halt.

Broad shoulders lit by the golden glow of the streetlamp hanging directly above him. His whole posture tense, defiant and alert all at once. You could see his strained breathing in the way his upper body moved.

You pressed your lips together, nerves buzzing with unease. You’d never seen him like this. All coked-up and furious. Even punching his friend in the face.

The fear of what he might do if you said the wrong thing clashed hard with your concern and the aching need to reach out to him.

Heart hammering, you forced yourself to shove all of that down and stepped closer, half-circling him, knuckles white from how tightly you clutched your purse strap.

Your heart sank straight through the ground when you stepped around him and saw his face, expecting a frown, a deep scowl, rage and irritation in his gaze but instead:

Tired, red eyes. Glossy. Pupils so wide they seemed to choke out the blue of his irises. And adding to the heart-wrenching sight was the purple bruise blooming on his right cheek, still fresh enough to be illuminated like a spotlight in the streetlamp’s golden glow.

Physically and mentally, Rafe looked completely wrecked.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, a silent whisper, scared that even the smallest push might make him crash out. “Are you okay?”

Your chest tightened as he looked at you with such cold distance it almost resembled contempt.

Rafe scoffed, more a tired exhale than anything. “Do me a fucking favor and go back inside. I’ve had enough of fake bitches tonight.”

Your brows twitched, the words hitting like a punch to the gut but you swallowed the sting and the anger. You knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just pushing you away.

“Rafe, what’s going on?” you asked again, a little more confident now, voice soft, searching his cold eyes for some kind of answer.

He let out an annoyed breath, rolling his eyes so hard you saw the whites. As his gaze locked with yours again, it was sharp and unsettling. He tapped his temples with his fingers. “I’m serious. I have zero patience for your anxiety bullshit right now.”

You blinked, stunned. Did he seriously think you came out here for some kind of reassurance? And what the fuck did he mean by ‘anxiety bullshit’?

“I don’t—I’m not here because of that,” you said with furrowed brows, unable to keep the edge out of your voice. You hugged your arms tightly around yourself, partly from the cold, partly just to soothe yourself. “I just... You left so suddenly, and I—what happened?”

Rafe shook his head and raised his chin, face twisted in irritation. “Okay, what the fuck is this? Some pathetic attempt to squeeze gossip out of me? Did Sarah send you here so you can giggle with your new little girl squad later?”

“What?” You stared at him, baffled. What the actual fuck was going on with him? “No! I’m just worried. This is—I mean, I’m just trying to understand what's going on.”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, gesturing back toward the event hall. “Why don’t you go back inside to Topper then and ask that fucker, huh? Looked like you two were getting real cozy right now.”

Seriously, what the actual fuck.

You didn’t even let your brain begin to process what that implied. You just blinked at him, stunned, brows knitting together as your own frustration started to rise.

“We were just talking,” you said, voice tight. “He asked me—”

“Yeah, talking alone far from everyone else,” Rafe cut in, tapping his chest with an angry hand. “Does everyone think I’m some fucking—”

“He was whining to me about Cara, okay!” you snapped, totally done with his deflections and accusations. “He called me over because he was scared to join us at the bar or whatever, I don’t know.” You shook your head in disbelief. “I—do I look like—I mean what does that even have to do with Topper?”

“Nothing that fucking concerns you,” Rafe shot back with a scowl, eyes so cold it was like he didn’t even recognize you.

Why couldn’t he just say what was wrong?

Instead, he threw all his anger at you for no damn reason. Almost like...

Now you tapped your chest. “It does fucking concern me because it feels like I’m the reason you left.”

Shit.

Your lips clamped shut the second the words left your mouth. Fuck. You really didn’t mean to make this about you. Fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m just—” you started again, but stopped as Rafe’s face twisted into full-blown irritation and disbelief.

“You think this is about you?” His voice was razor sharp, slicing down your spine. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, scoffing. "Seriously, this constant whining and need for fucking reassurance is pissing me the fuck off.”

He spat the last words like venom, making you flinch at his sudden shift toward you. Just an hour ago you’d been curled up together, laughing. Now he was a completely different person.

His brows twitched as he stared at your shocked expression, mouth opening, probably to throw more shit at you, but you’d had enough. Your conversation with Kie flashed through your mind.

“You know what,” you snapped. “Yeah, this is about me. Because you don’t get to treat me however the fuck you want just because you feel like it. First all sweet and affectionate and now whatever the hell this is.” You let out a shaky breath, tapping your temples. “You call me crazy but what the fuck is going on with you? It's fucked getting me to cozy up to you and then vanishing without a word. I just—it's fucking humiliating getting left behind like that.”

Rafe grimaced, voice low. “I fucking came back, didn’t I?”

Was he for fucking real?

“Yeah, sure,” you said dryly. “You came back all coked-up and then punched your friend. Like, did you seriously dip just to snort something? If your addiction is—”

“You better shut your fucking mouth now,” Rafe snapped, eyes narrowed, taking a step forward. His stare was so intense, real fear prickled down your spine. But he just shook his head. “You have no fucking clue what the fuck you’re talking about.”

You had to fight the urge to step back, clutching your arms tighter. Despite the fear and irritation swelling in your chest, your next words came out quiet, shaky around the edges. “I’m just worried, okay? Something clearly happened in the last hour that set you off. I’m not trying to be nosy—”

“You are,” Rafe barked, pupils blown wide like black discs. He grimaced, brows tight. “This has nothing to do with you, alright?” His voice cracked into something almost desperate. “Now stop pissing me off and get your ass back inside.” His hand went into his pants pocket for a second, then shoved a tag with the number 69 into your view. “And take that shit too.”

“No.”

Rafe’s scowl deepened so much you genuinely thought he might throw the tag at your face. “You really wanna test my fucking patience right now?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even look at the tag. Just stared at him, shaking your head softly. “Something happened. And you don’t look okay at all. You don’t have to tell me what it was, but—”

“Jesus Christ, do you ever stop talking?” Rafe cut in, shaking his head with a bitter laugh, tapping his temples again with a crooked smile. “Shit up here can’t be that bad.”

Fuck. That.

"You're an asshole," you snapped, fury taking over your voice. "And being on drugs doesn’t excuse your shitty behavior."

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off, brows furrowed deep. "And attacking my insecurities and issues is disgusting and pathetic, especially when all I was trying to do was understand what's going on with you."

You shook your head with a scowl, stepping closer and pointing at his chest, voice furious. "And I’m so sick of your constant mood swings. I get it if you’re having a bad day, but I’m not letting you take it out on me." You hugged your arms around yourself again, stepping back, heart clenching painfully at the shift in his expression—genuine irritation written all over his face. "So if that’s your idea of what a friendship is supposed to look like, then I sure as hell don’t wanna be part of it."

You didn’t even wait for a reply, too afraid you’d start crying at whatever awful, hurtful comment he’d throw at you next. So you grabbed your bag strap tight, heart pounding and screaming, and turned around to go rejoin the others, doing everything you could not to let the tears fall.

I’m so stupid. So, so stupid for thinking I could handle him. So fucking stupid for running after him and—

"Don’t leave."

You froze in your tracks as those two small words hit the air, his voice shaky and desperate, laced with fear and frustration. It felt like someone had just reached into your chest and torn your heart right out.

And then the second bullet hit, even harder and more painful, as it followed the first one with a quiet "Please."

The final blow hit you as you turned around. Standing under the soft glow of the streetlamp was the shilouette of a boy, looking so deeply wrecked and broken, it cut right through your ripped-out heart.

Wide eyes staring back at you, desperation etched into every line of his face as he rubbed his forehead with a fist.

"I… I just can’t help it, okay," he said, frustrated, his expression twisted in pain as he tapped his temples aggressively. "My head, it’s— I know something’s wrong up here, I just…" Now rubbing his temples, hands clenched into fists, eyes shut tight. "It’s like my body’s… like it's always two steps ahead of my brain, and it's out of my control what I say or do."

His face contorted as he let his hands drop and gestured to his chest, gravel crunching under his shoes as he stepped closer. "I’m not a bad guy, okay?" he said, desperation bleeding into his voice and his expression, hands now motioning to you. "I’m just— it’s just… I need you to understand I didn’t mean to hurt or attack you. Or lash out at you. In moments like these I just…" Palm rubbing one eye with a grimace, then tapped one finger at his head. "It’s like someone else's taking over. And this whole fucked-up situation has me so on edge anyway, and I—I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on you and I don’t—"

"Rafe."

Your voice was as soft as it could be, and yet he still looked like he was bracing for impact.

"It’s okay. Really," you said with a sad smile, shaken to your core by what had just spilled out of this boy (again). "I know what it’s like to have a messy head. You don’t need to—"

"No, you don’t understand," he interrupted, shaking his head in frustration, tapping his temple again. "It’s not like your little minions running around spreading bullshit. It’s--it's more like there’s just two of them, and when one knocks the other out, I’ve got zero control over what he does." He shook his head again, face twisting as he rubbed one temple with his knuckles. "And I don’t want you to leave just because I can’t keep that fucker’s mouth shut."

A tiny smile tugged at your lips at the comparison, though it pained you deeply to see how much he was struggling inside his own mind. Even worse was the fear of being left behind that was written all over his face.

"I’m not leaving," you finally said quietly, chest aching as his eyes widened. "Like I said, I know what it’s like not feeling safe in your own head. I don’t care about this ‘issue’ you think you have going on. I’ve handled you this far, haven’t I?" You let out a strained chuckle before your expression grew serious again. "But I need you to talk to me. Whenever you feel like this… asshole minion of yours is about to take the lead, you need to say so." You raised your brows just a little, letting out another soft chuckle. "Maybe I can send over one of my own to knock some sense into that idiot."

"And I also need you to know," you continued, "whatever’s bothering you, or whatever’s weighing you down, you can share with me. You don’t have to let it eat you up just because you’re too proud or scared to let someone else in. That’s what friends are for. To help carry the load." You tilted your head with a troubled smile. "And clearly whatever happened in the past hour is weighing heavy on you, the way it’s got you so shaken."

Rafe just stared at you for a moment. Big blue eyes watching you like he couldn’t decide whether to actually let you in or shove you away.

Your heart ached deeply for this angry, broken boy.

Finally he shook his head, brows drawn into a bitter grimace. "This shit… no one can help me with. It’s fucked, it’s so fucking FUCKED." His face scrunched up, both palms pressing against his temples. "Shit's so bad I was this close to beating that bitch up."

Your brows twitched.

"Ruthie?" Somehow you already knew who he meant, and a bad, bad feeling settled in your stomach.

Rafe nodded with a bitter smile. "Of course fucking Ruthie." In a swift motion he gestured angrily toward the event venue. "I would’ve never gotten up and left if that bitch hadn’t pushed me to it."

Somehow that was both relieving and deeply concerning. Because if Rafe let Ruthie mess with his head, then shit must be really bad.

"Why? What did she want from you?" you asked, hugging your arms tightly as the cold breeze hit your bare skin.

Rafe frowned. "Doesn’t matter. Get back inside, you’re freezing."

Yeah, no shit. Been freezing since I came over to talk to Topper.

"It does matter," you said anyway, mirroring his expression. "What did she want?"

Rafe let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "That crazy bitch is blackmailing me, alright? Got a fucking video of me snorting coke at Kelce’s shitty-ass party and now she’s trying to make me do her bidding."

Your frown deepened. "Who—"

"Gracie took some dumb video of her bitch friends in the kitchen and I’m seen in the background. Clear shot of my face and everything," he said, pissed off and deeply frustrated. "Now fucking psycho Ruthie’s threatening to post it online if I don’t convince my dad to accept her father’s dumb-ass joint venture deal."

He shook his head hard, rubbing his temples like he was trying to physically to hold himself back from crashing out again. "But my dad’s already said no because it’s a shit offer. Only an idiot would agree to those terms." His face twisted into a pained grimace. "Already tried calling him but Wheezie said he’s at some corporate dinner tonight. It’s a fucking lost cause anyway, my dad will never say yes to that bullshit."

Jesus Christ.

That was seriously fucked. Like, next-level fucked.

Sure, everyone knew Ruthie was nuts, but blackmailing someone? Using Rafe’s addiction against him? Backing him into a corner until he had to numb the desperation and frustratioi with more coke?

FUCK. THAT.

"Fuck that bitch," you said, and Rafe’s head snapped up, clearly caught off guard. "You got proof of her blackmailing you?"

Rafe frowned. "Yeah, but it’s all in the same damn chat as the fucking video. If I showed that to the cops, I’d be turning myself in with it."

"Isn’t Topper’s mom a lawyer?" you asked, voice sharp with focus. "Maybe she could find a way around that."

"Shit, no," Rafe replied with furrowed brows, scratching his jaw. "Don’t need that crazy woman getting involved. She’d go straight to my dad, and it’d be the same fucking outcome." He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "Can’t even stand to see Topper right now anyway. Fucker’s been glued to Ruthie and her little bitch squad all night. Probably even involved in this bullshit game."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Topper might be gullible and stupid when it comes to girls but he’d never stab his best friend in the back."

"He’s not my fucking best friend," Rafe snapped with a scowl.

"No, you’re right. That title definitely goes to Kelce," you said with a little chuckle before your face turned serious again. "But my point still stands. Topper would never do anything that would really hurt you."

Rafe rubbed at his eye, clearly worn out. "Doesn’t fucking matter. No matter what I do, I’m fucked. Only option’s getting my dad to accept that garbage deal."

Fuck no. Ruthie getting to pull off her little game and win? No fucking way. Just—no. Absolutely not.

"Even if you succeed, she still has that video," you pointed out. "She’ll just keep playing the same game. So you gotta beat her at it." You raised your brows. "Meaning: We need to get our hands on something worse than what she’s got on you and make sure that video gets deleted from her possession."

For the first time since Rafe’s crashout, his face lit up with an amused smile. He raised his brows. “‘We’?”

You nodded. “I meant it when I said you don’t have to deal with shit like this on your own.” A cheeky smile tugged at your lips. “Also, she kinda ruined our bonding moment, so I kinda feel like getting back at her.”

Rafe let out a disbelieving breath, that boyish smile spreading across his face. “Bonding moment.”

“Well, yeah. We were all cozied up and cuddling. I’d say that counts as bonding,” you replied, cheeks heating up, surprised you even dared to say it out loud.

And the chuckle that left Rafe’s lips was so sweetly boyish, it felt like a win in itself. He stepped closer with a lopsided smile and gently grabbed your shoulders, nudging you to turn around. “Aight then. Let’s get back inside and continue bonding.”

NJDHWANDJKHla WHAT.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the feel of his hands on your shoulders. Still, you didn’t move, turning your head to look back at him with raised brows. “But the Ruthie situation.”

Rafe shook his head. “Bitch gave me until the Gloaming. I’ll figure that shit out later. Can't change shit right now anyway.”

“We,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, we are gonna go back inside and get you back under the blanket,” he said, nudging you forward. “I can feel the goosebumps through the fabric of your dress.”

You could swear he glanced at your ass for a second and that alone made your cheeks burn even hotter.

This guy was a menace.

His hand settled on your upper back as he guided you toward the entrance, his touch sending shivers up your spine.

“What?” he asked, clearly amused, as you stopped again.

You smiled sheepishly. “Uhm, pretty sure I heard one of the security guards say they’re gonna knock you out if you come back in.”

Also, his pupils were still blown but one could argue that’s just a natural reaction of eyes toward darkness.

Rafe scoffed, totally unfazed, and nudged you forward again. “My dad knows both of them. They’re not gonna do shit if they don’t wanna end up jobless for the rest of their lives.”

Not him flexing his dad like Draco Malfoy. Help.

“Jesus Christ, what now?” he frowned as you stopped again.

“Promise you won’t be mad at Topper,” you said, brows raised, waiting.

Rafe’s face twisted into a dramatic scowl. “That fucker—”

“Topper probably didn’t even do anything wrong,” you cut in. “Other than maybe seeing Ruthie as a potential love interest, but I guess that was just him trying to cope with Cara rejecting him.”

A sigh left Rafe’s lips. “Alright, alright. Now move. This shitty-ass car robot movie’s already starting.”

Transformers, dude.

“And you’re gonna apologize for punching him,” you added. “Because THAT was actually uncalled for.”

Rafe looked like you just insulted his entire existence. “Fuck that. I’m not about to crawl up that loser’s ass.”

Seriously.

“That’s not crawling up anyone’s ass,” you said with a frown. “It’s called being a decent human being. And a good friend.”

Rafe scoffed. “A good friend would beat his ass again just for talking to Ruthie in the first place. Might knock some damn sense into him.”

You stared at him deadpan. “I’d love to knock some sense into you."

Ah, shit. Here we go again.

Rafe’s lips curled into that cocky fucking grin but you beat him to it with a scowl.

“First of all: no to whatever you were gonna say,” you said dryly. “Second: stop trying to change the subject.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. I won’t beat him up again.”

You didn’t move a muscle, just stared at him expectantly.

Rafe frowned. “I’m not saying sorry.”

“You will. Otherwise, you can expect some bonding time with Cara and JJ cause that’s who we’ll be sitting with then.”

He looked at you like you’d grown another head.

“Fuck that,” he muttered, brows furrowed. “I’m not cozying up with some pogue rat.”

You shrugged. “Then have fun having the lounge bed to yourself because I will."

I won’t. And I don’t want to. No way I’m getting caught up in whatever they’d do under that blanket.

Rafe stared at you for a good ten seconds before sighing and rubbing a hand over his chin. “Fine. I might say I shouldn’t have punched him. Still not saying sorry.”

Better than nothing, you thought.

You raised your brows. “Promise?”

A dramatic sigh. Then: “Promise.”

With that, he placed his hand on your back again and nudged you forward one last time. Only this time, it had settled a little lower than before—dangerously close to your butt, for someone who’d agreed to a friendship yesterday.

But you didn’t complain. Didn’t flinch. Because maybe that was exactly where you wanted it to be.

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[5sospenguinqueen]

Djungelskog | Oscar Piastri x Teacher! Reader

Summary: Summer break means forcing Oscar to help you get your classroom ready in time for upcoming school year. 

Fluff. 2024 season. Pinterest pics

Requested: Yes by anon (here)

There's a little blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ln just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yn_ln last day of term. last recess, last day of chalk drawings. i’ve had a lovely bunch this year and will miss them loads as they move on. looking forward to a much needed break

681 comments

bestfriend feet on the desk? empty classroom? looks like slacking to me

oscarpiastri can’t wait to spend summer break with you 

→ yn_ln it’ll be nice to not have to share you with lando

→ landonorris what makes you think you can get away from me

→ georgerussel63 that sounds like a threat, mate

hattiepiastri does this mean you’ll have time to take me to the babymetal concert? ‘cause mum keeps trying to get out of it 

→ yn_ln do i have to learn the all the lyrics? 

→ hattiepiastri you’re a teacher, learning is in your blood 

→ yn_ln osc, help

→ oscarpiastri no, you chose to befriend her

alexandrasaintmleux omg did the kids do those drawings? 🥹belle

→ yn_ln no, that was lando’s drawing

→ landonorris don’t be silly. i can’t draw that well

teacherfriend i’ll do my best to look after them next year but i know i can’t compete with the fabulous miss ln 

nicolepiastri when can we see miss ln turn to mrs piastri?

→ oscarpiastri this is why i don’t come home 

→ nicolepiastri no, you don’t come home because yn does your laundry now 

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oscarpiastri first part of the season done. first GP victory. first broken bone. looking forward to a much needed break for the rib

4,811 comments

landonorris omg stop copying your girlfriend’s caption style

→ yn_ln he can’t help it. he’s obsessed with me

→ oscarpiastri true

→ user1 let us innnnn

user2 does a broken bone mean he’ll win the next race

→ yn_ln only if i'm there

charles_leclerc and what have you been doing to break a bone?

→ oscarpiastri helping my girlfriend empty a classroom. there’s a lot of books in there

mclaren enjoy the break. we can’t wait to have you back racing and refreshed 

→ user3 he’s literally only just left the mtc, give him a minute of peace

→ yn_ln don’t worry. i’ll be putting them in a time out if they try and take him

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

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yn_ln my happy place. quick lunch break. dragging my big strong man to carry stuff for me in ikea 

814 comments

oscarpiastri before that bear, i was your big strong man :( 

→ yn_ln you broke a rib. you’re only so useful. the bear can’t break 

→ oscarpiastri it can if i pull it’s head off

→ yn_ln you were a biter, weren’t you?

→ hattiepiastri yes

landonorris why wasn’t i invited

landonorris sushi 🤢

→ yn_ln this is why you weren’t invited 

→ landonorris stop trying to push me out 

→ oscarpiastri i see you practically 10 months out of the year. she can have me for one afternoon

charles_leclerc oh i love ikea furniture! can i help?

→ yn_ln of course you can. we have snacks as well

→ landonorris blatant favouritism 

→ yn_ln yes 

danielricciardo omg the djungelskog. when can i meet him?

→ oscarpiastri he’s called skoggie for short 

→ nicolepiastri the closest i’ll get to grandkids

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Oscar grinned at the face filling up the front of his phone, sliding the button across to answer it. 

“He-”

“Babe, I need more glue.” You exploded, cutting him off before he could even greet you properly. “Oh, and paper.”

“-And I broke the scissors. But the good news is, Lan said he could come and help so could you actually pick up 3 pairs of scissors, please?” 

“Sweetheart, breathe.” Oscar reminded you, a soft laugh echoing down the phone. “I’ve literally only been gone for 10 minutes. All we needed was milk. How did you manage to rope Lando into this?” 

“Rope? He was practically hanging by the phone waiting for one of us to call. I asked if he could spare a few minutes - just to give you a hand moving the desk - and he was already in the car on his way.”

“At least he’s preparing us for our own children one day,” joked Oscar.

“How have you got paint in your curls? I didn’t ask you to paint because I knew you couldn't be trusted to paint,” the exasperated voice of his girlfriend echoed down the empty school hallways. Light radiated from a singular doorway at the end of the hallway, beckoning him forward. 

“Every year, I deal with a class of 30 five year olds, experiencing freedom from their parents for the first time. And yet I feel like I need to watch you more than I do them.” 

“But it was just sat on the side, with the lid off!.”

“So you felt the need to somehow stick your entire hand in it?” 

Oscar leant against the doorframe, watching affectionately as you used a wet wipe to get the paint off of Lando as best as possible. Despite the curly-haired Brit being old than you, it didn’t stop the caring instinct that came with being a first-year teacher. 

One wall was painted a soft lilac whilst the other three had been given fresh coats of white. The chairs and tables had been organised into little groups to help you see each child’s face from the front of the class, and the drawers were freshly stocked with stationery. A little rug and some bean bags were set up in the corner for the story nook, and all that was left to do was start hanging up the wall deco. 

“There?” 

“Little higher,” you remarked, after faking a contemplative pause. 

“Now?”

“Little higher,” you leaned back to really take in the view. “Oh, yeah, that’s good.”

The white t-shirt sat snugly on his strained biceps as he held the board up over his head. The hem rode up as he stretched, revealing a nice sliver of tan, muscular back. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you sighed deeply at the sight before you. How easy would it be to reach and smack-

“Babe!” Oscar called again, turning around to check on you. “I can’t hold this- Are you checking me out? You’re supposed to be telling me where this goes.” 

“You shouldn’t look that good then.”

Clambering down from the ladder, he placed the thick board down on the nearest table and sauntered over to you. Placing his hands on your hips, he pulled you flush against him. Pressing a kiss to your nose, he trailed his lips down to your jaw and then under your ear. 

“How about we call it a night? This’ll all be here tomorrow, and you can appreciate the view without the t-shirt.” 

When you didn’t smile at his enticing offer, Oscar pulled down to look at you. Brushing a strand of hair back from your face, he frowned at the furrow between your brows. 

“What’s up, sweetheart?” 

“I’m just worried that it’s not enough, you know…”

Oscar turned his head slightly, drinking in all the work you had put together. The butterflies made out of patterned cards that you had spent hours scouring stores for. The paper flowers decorating the whiteboard that you had spent days stressing about. The stack of drawers with each student's name labelled across the front. The days of work that had gone into ensuring that each little person that crossed your threshold was as happy as they could be. A teacher that cared. 

“I know they’re only five, and they’ve never had another classroom to go off but- I don’t know. I just want them to feel comfortable and safe, and happy. I don’t want them to feel like they’re in an institution designed to make them sit in a seat for six hours.” 

“Look at all the effort you’ve put in so far. Without all the lesson planning and actual caring you’ll do when those kids come under your care. Did you ever have a classroom like this growing up? No. Neither did I. You know why, because nobody cares as much as you do.”

Straightening, he swung you up into his arms, bridal style. A cheeky grin pulled at the corners of his mouth when you shrieked in laughter. 

“Now, let’s go home, Skoggie is waiting for us. We'll grab some dinner and take a bath together. What do you say?” 

“Okay, Piastri. Take me home or lose me forever.” 

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oscarpiastri dating a teacher means spending summer break painting, cutting, glueing and then being told “it’s quiet time” whilst she decompresses from watching you do all the work 

3,381 comments

yn_ln you wouldn’t stop talking and i was trying to refresh my barbie knowledge

→ user1 princess and the pauper?

→ yn_ln absolutely 

→ landonorris i’m the erika to her annalise 

→ oscarpiastri whoa, you help with one classroom and think you can take my coveted spot? 

yn_ln plus it was hard work taking in the view 

→ oscarpiastri i had a pretty good view afterwards 🛁🫧

user2 idk why but the paint hands make me wanna scream

→ user3 omg i wonder if they made the little hand canvas things loads of couples have done

→ oscarpiastri we did! they’re now hung up over our bed

maxverstappen1 think you can make some more of those flowers for P’s room? 

→ oscarpiastri i’ve got paper cuts on top of paper cuts. don't ask me to do more

→ yn_ln i’ve got loads left over. she can pick the ones she likes best 

user4 the matching pjs 🥰 this couple has my whole heart

→ yn_ln he also has mine! 

user5 i love when oscar’s insta has something other than racing on it

→ user6 i want yn to let us onto hers so bad. i would sell my soul for the couples content on there

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

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yn_ln and it’s done. one week of relaxation left before the new term starts. i can’t wait to meet my new bunch of kids. a huge thank you to my constant kid @/landonorris for his help and mess. and an even bigger gratitude to osc. without you, this never would’ve been finished. you helped not only physically but mentally. my rock 💕

1,681 comments

user7 omg am i seeing things? is this actually oscar’s yn? 

oscarpiastri you did an amazing job 🤍 enjoy your last week off

→ yn_ln you better not win any more races without me

→ mclaren you know he can’t promise that 

landonorris maybe if you had been my teacher, i would’ve stayed in school

→ carlossainz55 doubtful 

maxverstappen1 P can’t wait to be in your class

→ yn_ln and i’m looking forward to being her teacher. although it might be hard to fight the urge to show favouritism 

hattiepiastri ew, don’t be cute online

→ oscarpiastri you're just mad that i'm her favourite piastri

→ hattiepiastri we both know that's a lie

→ nicolepiastri it's me

user8 um, can she be my teacher, please?

charles_leclerc i think this is a sign that i need to have children so that you can become their teacher 

→ alexandrasaintmleux let’s stick with leo for now 

→ nicolepiastri i keep trying to convince oscar and yn. you’ll be next, don’t worry 

→ oscarpiastri you have Skoggie. you don’t need any other grandkids

user9 we’re in! everyone say thank you oscar for making her come off priv

→ user10 their couple content is healing my soul

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Request for F1 fics are open.

A/N: Apologies for the delay in getting these out. I've been super busy making jumpers for my upcoming family Disney trip

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119

[tbaluver]

Heyoo

Love your work! 💖

May I request the LaD boys reactions to you sending them a boob pic?🤭

Sending Them A Boob Pic- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content a/n: hihi anonnie! im happy to hear you love my work ! soso sorry this took a while but i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading <3 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Gets really flushed when you send him the pic and he takes a little too long to respond from how long he’s been staring at your picture. Practically drooling on his phone screen as he looks at the picture(s) with your tits sitting so pretty for him.

𖠌: are you cold?

𖠌: i’m on my way

Texts you and misspells all the words as he makes his way down to you. Thinking of having his mouth and hands on your tits as he makes his way there.

Zayne:

His ears would automatically turn red, jaw clenched as he opens your text message. His cock twitching and he’s already pinching between his brows before he takes another look at the picture.

☃︎: behave, i’m at work.

How ironic he texted you that because he can’t seem to behave his throbbing and aching cock in his slacks. He can’t seem to put his phone down as he’s lost in a trance by the swell of your breasts, forgetting the report he had to do. You drive him crazy and it seems like you read the situation he was in perfectly that you sent him another picture. 

He takes a sharp breath as he rises from his chair, using his doctor’s coat to cover up his bulge. With long and swift strides, he heads out of the hospital, deciding to take his lunch break early today.

☃︎: i’m on my way home. i expect you to be ready my love.

Rafayel:

Responds with multiple texts immediately after you sent that picture and goes back to the picture(s) you sent to admire your breasts. Biting back a whimper as he looks at your tits. Would practically beg you to send more and end up with his dick hard.

𓆟: look at what you did

𓆟: img.raf

An angle where it shows a pouty Raf sitting on his stool. His cock sprung free from his slacks, hitting his lower abdomen and his tip a darker shade of pink.

𓆟:  i dun think pictures are accurate. i have to see you in person

𓆟 : you have to fix the mess you made cutie

Sylus:

Two can play at that game

He’s quick to reply, sending you multiple messages that you look gorgeous and beautiful. 

𓅪: my, is someone feeling needy princess?

𓅪: how adorable

𓅪: i’ll be home soon.

How he can't wait to get back home and fuck you but first he’ll make sure to tease you and have his fun with you.

He’ll send you a pic of him out of the shower.  A mirror pic of water dripping down his body and a towel hanging dangerously loose on his waist.

Then a couple minutes later he’ll send you a video with his cock, giving you a full view of his big dick. His own hands can barely wrap around his cock as he pumps it back and forth and he’ll make sure to leave the sound on for you to hear his groans so it’ll leave you hot and bothered.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧ All the graces from Heaven

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur and you enjoy a steamy morning at Strawberry's Hotel, much to the outlaw's delight. ✦ Warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Oral (both reader and Arthur receiving), 69, a bit of fluff if you squint, porn without a plot, Arthur is more of a high/mid honor but loses it and gets a little bit rough, established relationship. ✦ Words: 2,6k ✦ a/n: Yeeeaah so. This is basically a 69 fic, it's pretty filthy and a bit less figurative than my usual works. Just pure smutty smut. I hope you'll enjoy it still! Pic is mine, not proofread! And as English isn't my first language, prepare for some misspellings.

The bedroom of Strawberry’s Hotel is filled with chuckles, and full of scattered clothes on the floor. Leathered boots, two shirts tangled together, jackets and holster belts thrown away messily on furniture. As a lighthouse in the middle of the sea, a black gambler hat stands tall hung on one of the bed's huge footboard legs over this tide of abandoned clothing.

Above it, the old wood creaks as two people mess with each other under the blankets, threatening to make the worn hat fall from its perch. Both are nude as the day they were born, and glued to each other as if they were wearing the other one’s skin.

You and Arthur had quite a time, last night. And since you had woken up, it was nothing but sweet words, cuddling and tickling. Teasing each other had become a private religion between you both, his sarcastic comments always met with a witty answer from you. It made him love you even more.

“Come on darlin’, stay.” Arthur’s deep voice asks you, as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, his nose impregnating with your smell, eyes closing on their own.

He feels good, there. It's in these simple shared moments, those laughs you sew together, those fingers and body you intertwine, those deep and dreamy conversations about your brighter future you share that Arthur finds his remedy. As if after all this life of surviving and fighting for a greater cause, a bigger picture, it was the simplest of things that appeared like an epiphany to him when it came to happiness.

You being the main source and Messiah of most of these humble pleasures, of course. His personal angel.

“You know I can’t. You may have the morning off for once, but I have somewhere else to be. Hosea needs me at the Tracker’s Hotel for a job.”

Arthur doesn’t hide his annoyance and grumbles against your skin, something about “Damn jobs always in the way” and “ The old man can wait a lil’ bit more.”

It makes you smile. As tempting as staying in bed all morning with a naked Arthur seems, especially considering how you can feel his fat cock feeling so soft against your hip, you feel self-conscious about leaving Hosea alone on your mission. You turn your head to the side to kiss your lover’s head, his sandy locks tickling your nose.

“Alright tough guy, time to go.” You decide before getting up in a sitting position, then crawling to the end of the bed to grab your ungarments.

“Not so fast, lil’ missy.” He objects with a low chuckle, obviously enjoying this little chase after you.

Before you can reach your aim, Arthur snakes his hands around your thighs and pulls you back to him in a quick and powerful motion, handling you as if you were the lightest feather, which makes you let out a squeal of protest mixed with surprise.

His laugh resonates for a second and then, he freezes. You had ended up on all four on top of him, but usually, your face was turned to his. This time, Arthur's nose is met with your plump rear, your chest to the other side, just above his crotch. You can feel his body, underneath you, getting tensed. This gigantic, massive, muscled body, so big and tall that his chest feels larger than a tree trunk between your spread legs. What was innocent playing for him just seconds ago had turned into a needy tension between the both of you. The air suddenly feels thick and a silence settles, a tense calm on the shore before a Maelstrom.

Your blouse and Hosea are a long time gone when you realize you can feel his breath on your pussy, the sensation making you shiver. You try to get up from the position, thinking he wouldn’t like to have his face shoved in your intimate parts, but his hands grip tighter and stop you, grounding you in place. You turn your head to him as much as you can considering your situation, taking an interrogative look at his face above your body.

His cheeks are red. Dark red. His eyes are fixated on your entrance, throat swallowing with difficulty. His bust rises and falls heavily, pectorals muscles swelling up before relaxing and rising again. He sighs, and you feel it again, hot air all against you, all against your now aroused and needy slit.

“We hum… We never tried like this…” He starts, voice low and suggestive about what he's implying, his hands traveling from your thighs to grab your ass, one hand for each cheek. They’re so big and firm, and feel so good there, as he squeezes, again and again, driving himself crazy as he admires how the perfect heart shape of your rear looks all squished under his fingers.

“You sure you want-”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Arthur answers it by pressing his lips to your pussy, exhaling through his nose and tightening his fingers on your flesh. This man always had such huge self-control for every dangerous situation known to mankind, but right now, it seems like he couldn’t resist taking a bite when having your perfect cunt under his nose…

A sharp and depraved noise leaves you, making his body burn like redden coal, his mind consumed more and more by your whole being and the simple feeling of your wetness all against his face. His whole universe reduced into this touch, lips against flesh, saliva mixing with arousal. Your sinful nectar and his.

“God, honey!” You whine, back arching without your permission, body moving backward to him, searching for more, needing more.

“Taste so goddamn good… Never gonna have enough of ‘this…” He rasps between a few more kisses to your folds, as a praise or a statement, you’re not sure, and he’s not either as words just flow through him and he lets them out without a drop of restraint or reflection. A rough, unstoppable river. That's how he feels every time he eats you out.

His tongue slowly slips out of his filthy mouth and licks your folds, slowly, tortuously, from bellow aaaall the way up to the inside of your ass. You could have been scared of not being clean enough for him or feeling nervous about his face almost buried in there, but the sound, the moan he had made suppresses all these anxious thoughts all at once.

You have to face the obvious: he’s loving it.

“Aah- Arthur…” Your hips roll against his face, desperate for some more friction, unsatisfied and so aroused by his teasing.

“You go on moanin’ ma name like that and am gonna come without ya even touchin’ me, darlin’.” He warns you, voice hoarse, lips mumbling against your folds, his beard and mustache tickling you just the right way.

You answer his words with a deep sigh, the filth of them burning you to the core. He laps at you the same way again, in one then two long and slow licks, as if savoring you like the finest whiskey he would have tasted. A mewl leaves your lips after each one of them. You’re starting to get impatient, and he knows it, he knows you after all those intimate moments. He stops his lips right at the entrance of your core and gently slides his right hand between your thighs.

The way he has to fold his arm to touch you there isn’t comfortable for him, his bicep being way too big to be crushed like that; but hearing you, feeling your thighs clenching and the appreciative words you let out when his fingers land on your sensitive bud is worth this slight pain. Always putting other’s needs before his own, always being devoted and loyal, always finding happiness in being useful, that was Arthur’s nature. And the bed was no exception to it.

“Was you not supposed to go somewhere?” He asks cockily in a falsely innocent tone, brimming with sarcasm and smugness.

“P-please, Arthur… Quit the teasing, for God's sake…” You ask, trying not to sound too pitiful, probably failing at it.

“A lil’ needy after all, ain’t ya? Ma sweet girl…” He coos, and you can feel his lips stretch into his usual grin, his heart gorging with pride and excitement to have this sort of impact on you.

Bending to your wishes, his fingers start to rub and trace tight circles on your clit as his mouth makes love to your pussy, his tongue delving in as deeply as he can, and the pleasure finally hits you like an earthquake. It feels so good, so damn good, your breathing quickly turning into loud moans.

Your head snaps back forward, and your body pushes your rear up all against him as a cat who would stretch after a nap. Arthur hums in delight and appreciation, unable to speak but encouraging you still. He increases his pace, his digits quick and sharp and so precise against your sensitive spot.

Your face falls down as every fiber of your body hardens, and that’s when your gaze is caught on his cock. Your pussy clenches hard around his tongue just by the sight of it.

It looks so hard and swollen that it must be painful for him. His hips buck forward into nothing, his member almost hitting your chin, with every lick of his tongue inside you. His round and reddish tip is leaking, pre-cum spurting out even more than usual, flowing all the way down into his dark curly pubic hair. His pants would have been completely soaked if he was wearing them.

You're salivating.

It would have been cruel to let him like this, right?

Focusing on him to try and not collapse from your own pleasure, you suddenly press your chest against his belly and take his cock inside your mouth without any warning. The taste of him, this strong saline flavor, fills your mouth.

“Damn!” Arthur shouts in surprise, momentarily parting his lips from yours, fingers slowing their pace. “Jesus, girl!”

This time, it’s your turn to grin, as much as you can, considering how big Arthur is between your lips. You don’t let him any time to think or protest, knowing he would insist that you’d come first.

The way you're crawling on top of him makes it even simpler for you to suck him off, your head naturally placed at the right angle on top of his crotch, and you take advantage of that. Finding support on the mattress with your arms, hands gripping his legs, you bring your mouth up and down hard and fast, sucking his shaft with such vigor you can feel his body squirming underneath you.

“Ngh-! Darlin’! S-stop, slow down! I ain’t gonna last like this!” He tries to plead but his words are drowned in a flood of groans and harsh sighs.

Despite what he’s saying, his body acts in the exact opposite way, hips jerking, cock shoving into your throat at the same time you’re working him. He tries, he really tries to keep on pleasuring you back while you work him, but he feels like he’s completely losing himself, unable to do anything else, to focus on anything else at all.

Your breasts pressed against his belly, his face buried in your pussy and ass, each of your thighs surrounding his head, and your goddamn mouth around his cock, this devilish tongue sliding all around it… He's completely losing his head. It's like being drowned in an Ocean of You. It’s too much. It’s way too much at once for a simple man. A simple, weak, mortal man feeling like he’s receiving every grace of Heaven all at the same time.

His basic instincts win the best of him. His arms are now wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his body, a hand back on your ass cheek, the other on your neck, spurring you into moving your mouth just like he needs to.

“Oh, shit! Yes, go on, go on, take it!”

You've rarely seen him losing his temper like this. He's usually gentle and soft, patient with you during sex, savoring the moment, making it last as much as possible, playing you like an Andante movement from the most sophisticated piece of a symphony.

Right now, he's unchained and rough, rushing to the Grand Finale without minding about false notes, drunk from you and the sensation of warmth he is feeling on every edge of his body; face, chest, cock, every inch of him merging with every inch of you.

He groans all against your pussy, as your saliva drools from this erratic pace. His fingers grip your head and ass tighter as he chases his high carelessly, already coming, way too soon and fast for him. His cock stiffens even more as he fucks your silky mouth, veins gorging with blood, tip throbbing in the back of your head.

“Aaah- Damn… Good… Girl!” He growls loudly with a thrust of his hips after each word.

The last one is followed by a loud and throaty whine, higher-pitched and vulgar, the kind of sounds he would usually let out when being hurt.

He shuts his eyes in a pleasured-filled frown as he pushes his face even deeper between your legs and, more from instinct than anything else, sucks hard on your cunt while he comes, lost, so lost in a sea of primal bliss and pure organic pleasure. His large body burns and tenses one hard final time, and you can feel the path of his cum traveling along his length against your lips as he releases inside you.

It fills you, his saline and strong taste blinding your other senses, cum as hot and sinful as his state, and you exhale with satisfaction as you swallow both this remnant of his ecstasy and the last drops of his sanity.

Arthur falls back heavily on the mattress, completely spent, his sweat staining the white sheets, his hands loosening their grip. Before removing them from your body, he allows himself a playful little spank on your butt as he speaks again, a revenge not strong enough to his liking for your sneaky move.

“Jesus, you’re… completely wild...” He sighs, his heart slowing after having beaten like war drums.

He’s still panting, mouth open and covered with a mix of this sweet cocktail of saliva and arousal. He licks his lips, feeling so satisfied, the sensation of your body everywhere on his skin still vivid and present. Like a stamp of black, indelible ink that has left its mark on a blank sheet of paper.

“You really enjoyed all this, didn’t you?” You ask back while getting off him, legs a bit shaky, your throat starting to feel a bit sore from the intensity you had chosen to go with. “I haven’t heard you whine like this for a long time…”

“I don’t “whine”.” He scoffs, knowing damn well he did, and suddenly feeling ashamed of the sounds he had made and guilty for the rough behavior he had displayed. His negative feelings are soon brushed off though, thanks to your beautiful and mischievous smile enlightening him.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I’ve still got ears to hear, Mister.”

“Hush. Now come here, 'gonna make ya feel as good and miserable as me from finishin’ that fast.”

His eyes burn with that fire he has. The one reserved for you and the excitement and adrenaline of action. You already know there's no way you'll walk out of this bedroom without being completely satisfied.

“Tonight. I’m already way too late to-”

“Now.”

The piece of clothes remains abandoned on the floor as the bed creaks again, that old gambler's hat only witness of Arthur's payback to you.

After all, he never liked leaving a job unfinished.

--

tagging some people who were interested in the scenario! : @amyispxnk @a-court-of-valkyries @fleouris

[bimmyjimmy]

Welcome to the Jimmy Blog!!

Meet Bimmy, my real life plushie

On this blog, I post random pictures of Jimmy throughout the day!

Some fun tags you can check out for fun bimmy pics:

#jimmy talks <- tag for Jimmy's meow

#jimmy faces

#about jimmy

#he sleeps

#jimmy video

#scritchies

#baby bimmy

#jimmy fanart

#stylish bimmy

Quick fun facts about Jimmy!

We think he is a Mohave Bob and that's why he looks like that

He is 4 years old

His favourite food is tuna or cheese

He is a polydactyl cat! He has 10 toes on his front paws, but weirdly has 12 nails...

His fur is very soft, he feels puffy. If you pet him, you'd get lost in fur...

His birthday is on August 11th!

Thanks for visiting and hope you enjoy Bimothy

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bimmyjimmycat Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@nianadadine

[hotchnerwrites]

hi!! love your hotch fics so much. I have a request for a hotch fic with a bau reader, maybe someone who’s very extroverted with the team but shy around hotch and hotch notices. up to you where you want to take it!!

The Olive Branch

part two ▷

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: SFW, mutual crushes, minor misunderstanding

A/N: i JUMPED at this request, i have been wanting to write this for so long omfgggg!!!! i hope u like it!!! enjoy <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

PS. I've stopped adding the three starter pics to my fics (hopefully temporarily) bc tumblr is being uncooperative and won't minimise them. looks nasty with 3 images smh.

It was his job to read people. To break down micro-expressions, decode behavioural changes, and anticipate actions before they happen. In the field, these skills had saved the lives of victims and team members alike.

But somehow, when it came to you, Aaron Hotchner found himself at a complete loss.

It wasn’t something he had noticed consciously. At least, not at first. When you arrived on your first day of work, he had made some superficial observations that remained at the edge of your awareness— quick to befriend the team, understand their dynamics and find your niche. You were so vibrant and easy with the others. You went toe-to-toe with Morgan’s teasing and could even keep up with Reid’s incessant chatter.

But with Aaron? A clipped “Yes, sir” or an awkward “Of course, Agent Hotchner”. It was always stilted, and he got the feeling that you carefully measured your words when interacting with him.

It wasn’t outright hostility. You were his coworker at the end of the day. But it wasn’t comfortable either. And Hotch had spent far too long being avoided by people outside of work to mistake it for anything else.

You did not like him.

Aaron didn’t blame you for it. He knew his reputation as a Unit Chief— he was a hard-ass; he demanded a lot and could shut down jokes in the middle of a case. He barely even spoke about his life outside work. He had spent years convincing himself that maintaining this distance was necessary, that he couldn’t afford to be anyone’s friend, lest he put them in harm’s way.

But with you? Aaron couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret at the way things had turned out.

———

The idea wasn’t fully formed. Hell, it was barely a concept of an idea.

It had been a long day of paperwork, and as the others were heading out for the night, Hotch noticed you skulking around García’s desk, staring at something.

A pen. Not just any pen— it was an engraved fountain pen that Penelope’s stepfather had gifted her.

“Pretty,” you had mumbled to yourself, “I used to have one just like that.”

It was a simple enough thing, and Hotch didn’t waste time overthinking it. The next day, he picked up a similar pen— nothing overly expensive, just well-made and practical, personal but not intimate.

A peace offering.

It was Aaron’s attempt at making things right.

———

He left it on your desk before the day started with a short note.

Thought you might like this. - A.H.

He’d be lying if he wasn’t nervous. Still, he tried not to set his expectations too high. 

But then he watched you find the pen.

You froze, fingers dancing over the box as if afraid to touch it. Then, carefully, you picked it up, turning it over like it was made of glass.

Hotch didn’t know what he had expected. A thank you? A nod of acknowledgement? Less awkward interactions? That would have been enough. Instead, you smiled. A small, private thing. The kind you offered JJ in quiet moments or to Emily after a tough case. A real genuine smile.

And then— you sought him out.

“Sir,” you started, cornering him after a briefing. Your tone was muted as usual, but there was no note of avoidance in it anymore. Just something he couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. For the pen. You didn’t have to… but I really appreciate it.”

Aaron had opened his mouth to brush it off, to tell you it was nothing, but then you dropped your gaze, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the pen. He couldn’t quite put a finger on your body language… but it was slowly dawning on him. 

Aaron Hotchner was realising that he had read you incredibly wrong.

———

The realisation didn’t fully hit him until later that night.

He’d been reviewing annual evaluations, half a glass of bourbon abandoned at the edge of his desk. He’d been fighting sleep for over an hour now— it had been a long week.

Aaron’s mind kept circling back to you. To your smile when you’d picked the pen up.

You, who were always warm and open with the team but hesitant and distant from him. You, who had nevertheless accepted his gift with something more than gratitude. You, who lingered just a fraction of a second too long after thanking him, eyes nervously darting up to his before skittering away.

Hotch exhaled audibly, rubbing a hand over his face. He couldn’t get the image of the way you had looked at him today out of his mind. You had really looked at him, a mixture of hesitance and nerves. The pen had been an underdeveloped idea for extending an olive branch, but you had smiled at it like it meant something.

As he stared off into space, paperwork long forgotten, the pieces slowly clicked into place with the kind of clarity that made him feel like an absolute idiot.

You weren’t shy around him because you disliked him.

In fact, therein lay the answer.

You were shy around him because you liked him.

It should’ve been so obvious. The very idea of it. It had danced around his face, and had it been anyone else, he would have seen it immediately. Yet, when it came to himself, apparently he was blind.

A profiler, indeed.

Aaron wasn’t sure what to do with this epiphany. Was he allowed to do anything? But also, did he really care that much about outdated FBI guidelines? He only knew one thing. For the first time in a long time, the idea of someone likinghim— not respecting, not tolerating, but actually liking him— made something warm and fuzzy settle in his chest.

Hotch leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Then he huffed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head at his ignorance.

Maybe he was getting old.

part two ▷

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[zeffdakilla]

please PLEASE may i have a crumb of dr coomer horse he looks so silly 🥺......

he's not fully rigged so there isn't much i can do with him sadly... but i hope u enjoy these quick poses i came up with :p

I just realized one pic is transparent and the other is not that is so annoying. I'm sorry 😭

[silkysoftie]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭

hitoshi shinsou x female reader

summary: in which hitoshi unexpectedly finds himself getting off to a photo of his classmate.

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, ua college au, established friendship, masturbation, light exhibitionism/voyeurism (aged up characters)

a/n: hope you like this lil’ drabble! don’t worry toshi stans, i plan to write more full-length content for him in the future :)

Hitoshi was no stranger to 3am, as is natural for an insomniac. Not only did he find himself to be more productive after 9pm, but he’d also grown to enjoy the stillness that settled over the dorms and the darkness that creeped down the hallway outside his door. He often spent this time catching up on homework, or winding down from the long day of training without worry of being disturbed.

It was an uncommonly quiet night. Usually, he could hear Tokoyami, a fellow night owl, up and clattering about in the common area. Occasionally, the pipes in his walls would creak and groan as someone, likely Midoriya coming back from a late night run, showered, but not tonight. Hitoshi couldn’t even hear Y/N, his classmate and friend whom he shared a wall with, shuffling about. Tonight the dorms were noiseless, leading him to believe that all of his classmates were asleep.

Unfazed by the silence, Histoshi busied himself with little tasks just like he would any other night. He spent an hour or two finishing an essay, mended a tear in his capture scarf, and packed up his book bag before deciding to take a well deserved break.

After carefully placing his favorite vinyl on his record player, he stripped off his shirt, threw on a pair of pajama pants, and settled into bed. As the soft music filled the room, he unplugged his phone, intending to browse instagram for a while.

Humming along to the song, Hitoshi scrolled through countless photos and videos of his friends and classmates. Ashido had posted a dance cover that he liked and left a comment under. A little further down Todoroki had uploaded a family photo with his father’s head cropped out. Hitoshi couldn’t help but cackle at that. And then he came upon a very different photo. It was posted a few hours ago the very girl that was asleep just on the other side of his wall, Y/N.

The picture was of her, laughing and smiling as she was being smooshed between the girls from Class 1A. But what made this photo unique was that it was taken during the girls trip to the beach last weekend, and Y/N was in a bikini.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened as he drew in an unusually shaky breath. He’d never seen his classmate in anything less than her school uniform or hero costume which, much to his dismay, was not very revealing. He glanced nervously at the wall they shared, as if she’d somehow phase through it at any moment and bear witness to his wandering eyes.

Clearing his throat, Hitoshi scrolled away from the post, but as he half heartedly watched a work out video Midoriya had uploaded, his mind kept wandering back to the photo.

Though he was alone, Hitoshi tilted the screen a bit closer to his chest, a light blush staining his cheeks. One more peak couldn’t hurt…With a quick search, he’d pulled up her account, bikini pic proudly pinned at the top.

Feeling a bit like a pervert, Hitoshi’s eyes wandered over his friend’s half-naked body. She was much… softer than he expected. The serious mask she put on during combat training had somehow led him to believe she was all sharp edges and strength, but the gentle curves of her torso said otherwise.

Not only was he transfixed by the light sheen of sweat shimmering on her smooth skin, but also by the swimsuit she dawned. It seemed to hug her in all the right places, just barely teasing what might be underneath. And though she was surrounded by plenty of scantily clothed women, he just couldn’t pull his gaze away from her.

A low groan escaped his throat as he threw his hand over his eyes, telltale signs of arousal earning a reaction from his body.

Good lord, he was pathetic. As though he’d never seen a woman before, a simple bikini photo had him pitching a tent.

Sighing, Hitoshi peaked through his fingers at his erection. He’d have to take care of that before he could move on with his night.

Maybe he could use the photo?

No… Y/N was his friend and a rather good one at that. She trusted him. They respected one another.

But the thought of getting off to someone else made his brows furrow in dissatisfaction. He couldn’t, not when she had been the source of his excitement. Hitoshi huffed in frustration. This was no good.

Maybe… maybe she wouldn’t mind? Maybe she intended for him to see this photo when she’d posted it!

It was with these feeble justifications that Hitoshi’s resolve easily crumbled. Without another thought, he hurriedly yanked down his pajama pants, red, aching cock springing free.

Just this once.

Humming with relief, he gripped his throbbing member. Setting a slow pace, Hitoshi’s gaze wandered back down to his phone, the screen illuminating his fucked out expression in the dim room.

Hitoshi stroked his cock lazily as he began committing the shape of her to memory. The subtle slope of her hips, the curve of her breasts... even the way her hair, wind-blown and salty, fell over her shoulders.

Had she always been this beautiful?

A whimper caught in Hitoshi’s throat as his thumb caught on the tip. Without the presence of mind to feel guilty, he imagined it was Y/N’s hands running over him instead. In his mind’s eye he could see her, big, round eyes staring longingly up at him, practically begging for him to take her. Hitoshi moaned at the mere thought.

Would she want to blow him? His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he envisioned her waiting patiently on her knees for him, mouth open and ready to receive.

Groaning, he thought of all the ways in which he might pleasure her. He’d tie her up, eat her out, and leave her gasping for more. Oh, and he just knew she would sound absolutely exquisite. What he wouldn’t give to hear little whines and whimpers rolling off her tongue as she pleaded for release.

By now, grunts and moans fell freely from Hitoshi’s lips as he panted without care of who might hear. His hand began to move quicker, his movements growing sloppier as he approached his high. Throwing down his phone, Hitoshi gripped the base of his cock tightly. With a desperate whine of his friend’s name, sticky, hot ropes of cum shot out, covering his bare, heaving chest.

Hitoshi raked a shaky hand through his mussed, purple hair as he came down from his high. He hadn’t finished that hard in quite some time and boy, had he missed it. Just as he was beginning to catch his breath, a ‘ding’ from his phone caught his attention.

Not even bothering to clean himself up, he picked up his phone, curious to see who might have texted him this late at night.

A jolt of surprise zapped through him as his screen lit up with the notification.

Y/N

‘Whatcha doin over there? Sure sounds like fun ;)’

Caught off guard, Hitoshi‘s eyes flicked between his phone and his wall. She’d heard him? He’d thought she was asleep…

Maybe he could play this off somehow? Licking his lips nervously, he typed out a quick response.

Toshi

‘Wouldn’t you like to know ;)’

Copying her little winky face, he pressed send, hopeful it implied his volume had been intentional even if it hadn’t.

Y/N

‘Why don’t you come over here and show me?’

Hitoshi had never moved so fast in his life.

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