#THIS IS THE ORIGIN OF MY AIM IS GETTING BETTER

[nitw]

i've been waiting for gravity falls to become relevant again so i could share one of my favorite underrated bits from the entire show. like it's only episode 2 but this whole segment just makes me lose my shit. i think jason ritter's exasperated line delivery is what makes it

[flurry-of-stars]

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*taps microphone* New chapter for These Hollow Halls coming soon--

[strogoff-era]

Tags by @cyclesprefectpress

Yes, Bodoni ! I didn't have much choice for the font considering I needed 1) a lot of letters to do the whole thing in one go 2) needed small capitals and 3) a font that ressembles a bit the original Note. Add to this I'm in France (and the workshop has little to no english fonts) and you get Bodoni lol

Guess who's done !! :D

My (almost) 1:1 print of the Victory Point Note is done ! It's a mix of lead printing and screen printing

I have a lot of them so I might sell some of them (if I can, I still have to look into it)

Also fun fact : I made a version without the signature and my new goal is to have the actors from The Terror to sign in place of their characters lol

[thehammyyammy]

honestly watching gravity falls growing up was ridiculously influential on me, like some of the morals and the mystery chasing for sure but i think more-so it explains a bit why im. like this.

[koushirouizumi]

{YU-GI-OH!} Duel Monsters Type: AMV ~ Yuugi & {Ace-implied!}Yami {Atem*} (*This AMV mainly contains 'Yami''s form) [Reading in Aro-Ace or Aro-Acespec!Yami is also Fine] {Just please respect my own headcanons too!} Title: "Taking Over Me"

Summary: "You saw me M o u r n i n g my {xxxx} for YOU, and T O U C H E D MY H A N D..."

"...Just to F I N D Y O U--"

Music © E.v.a.n.e.s.e.n.c.e/Amy Lee

Spoiler Info: -Leads up to End of Anime-only “DOMA” Arc's Yuugi & Yami Duel {Anime-Only sequences; not included in original manga} -{Mainly} D.M. Only Eps -A single clip from the original 1st series by Toei opens it, but nothing else from it is included.

*Any Lip-sync'ng was unintentional {+Any similar Might be removed in any future Remake}

Yu-Gi-Oh! © Kazuki Takahashi Yu-Gi-Oh! 1st Series {Anime} © Toei Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters {Anime} © Studio Gallop This is a FAN-WORK. NO $$$ is being made off this work.

{AMV by (Young) Me} {DO NOT REPOST} {DO NOT COPY} {DO NOT REPRODUCE MY WORKS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION}

(Note: This is an OLD work {10+ yrs old}. and one of my last YGO D. M. ones of the timeframe; however, it was still very early on in my making of these type of works {AMVs} when I finished this. The footage used will reflect this, as it was made before widespread transition into H.D. Footages. Please be understanding.) [There may be intent for me to remake it someday!] Overall, it is Complete, and other than removing accidental lipsyncs; Most of it I do not plan to change.

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching the Direct link here!

{I am NOT taking new Requests [or making changes to this one] (+for this series) at this time. Please DO NOT Ask!}

[byoldervine]

How To (Realistically) Make A Habit Of Writing

To clarify: Works with my autism. WORKS WITH MY AUTISM!!! I’ve been meeting my goals since I made them my New Year’s resolution! Anyway I’m so sick of all those ‘how to’ guides that don’t actually tell you what the process is they’re just like ‘just do it, but don’t burn yourself out, do what’s best for you!’ because you’re not telling me what I’m not supposed to be burning myself out over but okay, so I made my own. Hope this helps

1. Choose your fighter metric. What works better for you as a measurement of your progress; time spent writing or your word count? Personally I get very motivated and encouraged by seeing my word count go up and making a note of where it should be when I’m done, so I measure by that. At the same time, a lot of people are also very discouraged by their word count and it can negatively impact their motivation to write, and in that case you may be better off working from how much time you spend writing rather than where the word count is

2. Choose your starter Pokémon time frame. How often can you write before it starts to feel like a chore or a burden rather than something fun you look forward to? Many people believe that they have to write daily, but for some people this can do more harm than good. Maybe every two or three days? Weekly? Figure out what fits your schedule and go with it

3. Choose your funny third joke goal. Now that you’ve got your chosen time frame to complete your goal in, what’s a reasonable goal to aim to complete within that time frame based on the metric you chose? If your metric is your word count, how much can you reasonably and consistently write within your chosen time frame? If your metric is time spent writing, how much time can you reasonably and consistently spend writing within that time? Maybe 1000 words per week works, or maybe 10 minutes per day? The goal here is to find something that works for you and your own schedule without burning you out

4. Trial and error. Experiment with your new target and adapt it accordingly. Most people can’t consistently write 1667 words per day like you do in NaNoWriMo, so we want to avoid that and aim somewhere more reasonable. If you feel like it’s too much to do in such a short time frame, either give yourself less to do or more time to do it in. If you find yourself begrudgingly writing so often that it constantly feels more like a chore than something fun, maybe consider adapting things. And if you think that you gave yourself too much wiggle room and you could do more than this consistently, give yourself more of a challenge. Everything needs to suit you and your pace and needs

5. Run your own race. Don’t feel like you’re not accomplishing enough in comparison to others or not working fast enough to satisfy some arbitrary feeling of doubt. Everybody works at their own pace and slower work doesn’t mean worse work. You could be on one word per day and you’ll still see consistent results, which is still one word per day more than you could originally count on. All progress is progress, regardless of its speed

[zhelin-thames]

Danny meets JL Members #4

[Danny and Green Arrow in the middle of a fight with ghosts]

Danny: Nice aim, Robin Hood, but arrows don’t work on ghosts. Green Arrow: They do when they’re tipped with magnesium-phased ectoplasm. Danny: [blinks] …Did you just make that up, or do you actually know ghost science? Green Arrow: I’m a billionaire vigilante with too much free time. Of course, I know ghost science.

Danny: So, you’re like a ghostbuster with a bow? Green Arrow: More like a ghostbuster who’s better dressed. Danny: [gestures to Green Arrow’s outfit] You think that’s better dressed?

Green Arrow: Wait, you’re half-ghost? Danny: Yup! Half-ghost, half-human. Green Arrow: [mutters] And people say my origin story is weird.

Danny: You ever get tired of using arrows? Green Arrow: You ever get tired of glowing green? Danny: Touché.

[Danny and Green Arrow vs. Ghosts]

Danny: Quick! Shoot an arrow at that ghost! Green Arrow: On it. [shoots an arrow, and it flies straight through the ghost] Danny: Okay, maybe try a different arrow. Green Arrow: [grinning] I have a boxing glove arrow. Want me to use that? Danny: What the—why do you even have that?!

[Later, back at the Arrowcave]

Danny: So, do all vigilantes just have caves? Batman’s got one, you’ve got one—what’s next, Superman’s got a Fortress of Solitude? Green Arrow: He does. Danny: You guys are way cooler than my FentonWorks basement.

Green Arrow: You know, kid, you’re pretty good at this hero thing. Ever think about joining the Justice League? Danny: Thanks, but I’ve got my own ghost problems to deal with. Plus, I don’t think the League’s ready for this much sarcasm.

Green Arrow: [to himself] Ghost kid with powers… I need to tell Batman about this one. Danny: [overhearing] Oh, great. Another broody guy in a cape to deal with.

[dresshistorynerd]

Historically Accurate Jasmine

Another remake! I remade Jasmine for my series of "Historically Accurate" Disney Princesses. I honestly don't like the first version of Jasmine I made five years ago. It's not well drawn, I don't like the design, it doesn't look Jasmine and I incoherently mixed elements from different time periods. I also made some embarrassing blunders in history while explaining my thought process, since back then I was much less familiar with the history of Middle East and India. So I definitely wanted to redo her.

Research and references under the cut!

I do like Aladdin a lot, but let's be real, it's a very Orientalist film. Orientalism is the colonial lens through which the west looks at Asia and North-Africa, or the so called "Orient". It's dehumanizing and fetishistic lens - the west at the same time despises and covets the "Oriental" body. The "Orient" is flattened as one single entity and it's all savage and exotic, backward and mystical. Orientalism is fueled by jealousy and entitled superiority. In Aladdin it's very visible in how the setting blends a lot of very different Asian cultures, flattening large parts of a very diverse continent. It's set in sandy desert, but a lot of the elements of dress especially are much more Indian in aesthetic. Certainly fitted bodices and exposed stomachs are not practical clothes in a desert climate. The characters too are frequently exotised and fetishised with most female characters including Jasmine dressed and posed to appeal to the colonial gaze that covets brown bodies. Jasmine is sexualised much more that any of the white Disney princesses.

Originally the story was going to be more focused, though I can't imagine it ever lacking in Orientalism. It was supposed to be set in Baghdad, but during the production the First Gulf War happened, so they tried to distance it from the original Iraqi setting by setting it to the fictional city of Agrabah. Would there have been less Indian elements? Probably. It is pointed that in the wake of American forever wars in the Middle East, to not cause a stir Disney elected to make the movie more Orientalist. Orientalism was the inoffensive option.

Deciding on the historical setting to ground the redesign in was not simple considering the mess that the movie's setting is. One Thousand And One Nights is a collection (or many collections) of Islamic folktales from Northern Africa to Central and South Asia. So India (especially Mughal India ruled by Muslim dynasty) wouldn't be an incorrect setting and certainly neither would Middle East. The problem is that the film seems to imply there's no meaningful difference. Rather than trying figure out what is the most fitting place and time period for the film, I looked to the origins of the story of Aladdin. Apparently Aladdin’s story was added to One Thousand And One Hundred Nights by a French translator in 1709. He got the story from a Syrian-born Maronite storyteller, Hanna Diyab, who might have come up with the story himself. Most of Syria (at least Aleppo where he was born) was at the time part of Safavid dynasty Persia, so I decided to set my version of Jasmine in 17th century Persia.

I basically based the design on the illustration from 1702-3 by Mu'in Musavvir first below. The more fitted and tailored style with wider skirt likely influenced by European fashion it represents became fashionable in mid 17th century, so it still fits the time period I'm aiming at. The colour is simply perfect for Jasmine and I really like the overall desing. I did look at other art as well to get a better understanding on how the cut of the dress works, so here's couple o more references: second one is "Two Lovers with a Servant Woman" from 1696 by Mu'in Musavvir as well, third and fourth are details from paintings in the Chehel Stoun palace in Isfahan from 1646. Eyebrows grown together was considered especially beautiful feature so of course I gave Jasmine brows like that.

I of course gave her a crown, since she's a princess and depictions of Safavid princesses seem to always have a crown. I found that usually in art women had a white veil with their crown which is why I made her veil white, even though with the scarf band, which was the more typical headwear for women, colourful veils seemed to have been much more popular at the time. The veils in 17th century were also very long. For the crown and jewelry I wasn't as concerned to be using references from mid to late 17th century specifically, since these tend to change slower than other fashions. I based the crown mostly on the first illustration below from c. 1600 by Muhammad-Sharif Musawwir of a Seated Princess and the earrings on the second illustration from c. 1540 by Mirza ‘Ali of a Seated Princess with a Spray of Flowers.

Most of the images I found on this very useful blog which had gathered A LOT of Persian illustrations and paintings in handy timeline. A lot of the information of Safavid fashion I got from this MET Museum write up by Nazanin Hedayat Munroe.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 16

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 ovulating, angsty and overthinking reader, some verbal tension, some very long-ass conversation starting in the second half, reader having some intense episode of spiraling and need for reassurance, rafe being very dramatic at the end aka him jumping to the craziest conclusion known to man aka he's actually going insane (monologue only), also rafe being possessive and if you look closely also some unresolved trauma of abandonment, some hints at past platonic kiara x rafe

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ waking up with a hangover, the first thing you saw when opening your phone was the drunk texts you’d sent to rafe after getting home last night. the two of you had exchanged blurry selfies, and rafe had made some very suggestive comments. cringing at yourself, you texted cara to meet up later. after your shower, you found rafe in the living room bc he wanted bring you your forgotten bag. his bruise getting looked at by your dad (rafe later claimed he told your dad the bruise was an accident with a golf club). your mom invited rafe for lunch and they seemed to like him. afterward, you and rafe are left alone with him suggesting to continue your project. you being too hungover declined. rafe decided to drag you outside so you could properly sober up. in his car, rafe gave you his phone to shut kelce's spamming up. however, opening the chat, an upper body pic of kelce greeted you. after replying to kelce in rafe's name, you got a little too curious scrolling through the chat and finding thirst trap of rafe (the boys seemingly update each other with their gym progress). rafe caught you staring but he shrugged it off with a cocky remark. you finally arrived at the health store rafe claimed had magical anti-hangover smoothies. and somewhere between the car ride and the smoothies, you started to get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, rafe actually liked you more than you originally thought.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 10.4k+ (reader's fault)

✿ A / N ✿ getting to add some barry action into KMS? don't mind if i do hihihii;; also literally so anxious about this part (i know i say this with every new chapter help) bc the second half took me a while to figure out or rather i had a hard time debating how i wanted their convo to go AND which pov i wanted it to be in and ngl i actually had to keep my own patience in check with reader 🤣 and well, i’m always scared some stuff might feel forced or rushed, especially bc i’m aiming for a natural development BUT ANYWAY, it is what it is and i hope you guys enjoy. as always, lmk what you think <3

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"That looks like the stuff that came out of me this morning," you said with scrunched-up brows as you crouched in front of the smoothies' fridge at Bulk & Bloom (shit, yeah, that was the actual shitty-ass name, and no, Kelce was not a co-founder).

And somehow, seeing you in that position there beside him, lips slightly parted in a way that could be viewed suggestive in a different setting, Rafe had no fucking clue why, but the sight did something to him. Suddenly, there was an urgent need to think of wrinkly old grandmas and dead puppies.

Rafe let out a chuckle. "Which end?"

You blinked at him, deadpan. “Your sense of humor is horrible.”

Fucking hell. And now you were looking up at him with that bratty gaze. Rafe tried to think about literally anything other than how badly he wanted to—

Fuck, what.

"Shit, still better than expressing my feelings through some fucked-up images that look like they came straight out of a crackhead’s brain," he shot back with a crooked smile.

Because yeah, your weird-ass reaction pictures? Only Wheezie seemed to understand what the hell those pictures were supposed to mean, or how to use them (not that he'd shown them to anyone else anyway). And Rafe still questioned his own sanity for actually asking his little sister to explain them to him.

Not because he cared, of course. He just didn’t want you to think he was beneath you when it came to that crap.

You turned your gaze back to the line-up of smoothies. "Should be easy enough for you to understand, considering you and the crackhead share similar hobbies."

Oh, how badly Rafe wanted to shut you up and teach you some respect in a way that made his blood rush faster and adrenaline shoot higher.

He had skipped the fucking coke this morning on purpose, and he was still having these insane thoughts. Worsening by the minute.

"Real funny," he muttered.

You chuckled. "Who says I’m joking?"

Rafe scoffed. You were definitely doing this on purpose—acting all bratty, just to get a rise out of him. And he seriously questioned how the fuck you had the confidence to act like that when just earlier in his car, you’d been a stuttering, awkward mess after he'd caught you staring at his post-gym pic like you’d just pulled a legendary FIFA card.

“Feeling bold now, huh?” he said. “Funny, considering you were damn near drooling on my phone a few minutes ago.”

And the little side-eye you threw him? Brows furrowed, lips pressed together? Rafe drank that shit up like ice-cold water.

He raised his eyebrows in anticipation as you looked at him. Yeah, how were you gonna talk your way out of that one? With another I-I didn’t mean to, sorry, I just—

"I'm not ashamed to admit that Kelce has a nice build."

what.

Rafe didn’t even feel his smile drop or his brows furrow because the sudden rush of anger hit so fast, it short-circuited everything else.

Like, what the fuck.

Obviously, he hadn’t been talking about fucking Kelce. It had been his pic. Him your nosy little ass had been staring at.

Shit. No fucking way.

Had he been right to suspect something during that project session at Kelce’s? Did you actually have a thing for that fucker? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Couldn’t fucking understand how—

You little shit.

The second that sly smile crept onto your lips, the tension in Rafe’s jaw eased.

Shit, how badly he wanted to shut your mouth. And you still crouching next to him only fueled the flashing images in his head.

"Hilarious," Rafe muttered with a scowl, gesturing toward the fridge. "Now have you finally picked one? They all taste the fucking same anyway."

And you had the audacity to chuckle in response.

God, you were eating away at Rafe’s last nerve, which somehow just worsened the pressure building in his chest. And the crazy part? It was the kind of pressure he usually only got rid of when he was knee-deep in some random girl.

And that thought triggered more images. Of you. Sounds you’d make. The way you’d get all flustered and—

Fuck this shit.

No way he needed to get off that badly that you ended up being the one his brain fixated on.

It was just pent-up tension. Yeah, that was it. Just because he hadn’t gotten the chance to take care of it last night—thanks to fucking Topper crashing in the guest room with him—and you just happened to be the nearest girl around for his brain to throw into those kinds of scenarios.

It’s fine, he told himself. Gonna take care of that shit later at home.

"Well, you claimed one of them helps with hangovers," you said, eyeing him with an amused smile. "How am I supposed to know which one to pick when they're called..." You leaned forward (Rafe took that as a green light to check out your ass) and squinted at the name tags on the dumbass smoothies. "Maxx Mass Mango, Triceps Tropic Thunder, or," you let out an embarrassed laugh, "The Triple Load."

Rafe let out a low chuckle because the way you'd said it—so innocent, so awkward—was fucking priceless. You getting flustered over anything even remotely suggestive? Stupidly hilarious.

"I think one load will be enough for you today," he said with a lopsided grin, relishing the way you immediately looked away with a frown, all awkward again. Then he reached into the fridge for the Thirst Aid bottle and held it out to you. "Now let’s get the fuck out of here before the first wave of lunchtime joggers comes crashing in."

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“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Rafe unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his wallet from the center console, and reached for a backpack in the back seat.

Okay. Three funny things: One, he had clearly lied to you earlier at home because this definitely meant he was about to do something sketchy. Two, you still hadn’t recovered from those ridiculously named smoothies. And three… guess where you were?

Barry’s pawn shop.

Like yeah, you'd kinda figured he and Rafe knew each other with Rafe selling fucking coke to his classmates. And sure, Barry probably wasn’t the only plug in the Cut but still, funny coincidence that it was him.

Aka the same guy Cara got her weed from.

Aka the guy she lowkey tried setting you up with since you'd first met him.

Barry was chill and cool, and okay, objectively speaking, he had a pretty face if you ignored the tangled hair and commitment-issues beard. And yeah, okay, you did like him, but in a completely platonic way.

More like two bros. Except for that one very steamy dream you'd had about him once that we’re never, ever talking about again from this point on.

Okayyyyy, hahaha, moving on.

But since you were already here, you kinda wanted to say hi.

"The fuck are you doing?" Rafe snapped as he saw you unbuckle your seatbelt just as he was about to get out of the car.

You eyed him dryly. "Getting out?"

"No. I told you to wait here." Oh, this dude was DEFINITELY picking up drugs with that sudden change in tone.

"Yeah, I have ears," you said with a scoff, slinging your bag over your shoulder and reaching for the car's door.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. "I’m fucking serious. Stay here."

You chuckled at how ridiculous he sounded, your gaze flicking to the backpack on his lap. "Why? Because you’re about to do some sketchy shit in there?"

"Because I don’t need some girl clinging to my ass everywhere I go," he snapped.

Braincells = 0.

You blinked. "Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you the one asking me to come along?"

He looked so dumb with his lips pressed tight, brows drawn, and hugging his backpack like a pissed-off schoolboy running out of patience.

Eyeing you with an irritated smile, he said, “You don’t actually think—”

“Okay, no,” you cut him off, body shifting back toward him. “Which part of what I've said offended you now?”

Rafe’s brows twitched. His brain was probably running a marathon trying to figure out why he was actually pissed off.

“I don’t have the fucking patience to argue right now,” he muttered, voice strained. “Just fucking stay here. I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”

Considering his usual reactions, that was almost a polite reassurance.

“Well, maybe I’ve got business in there too,” you said, brows raised.

Oh, this idiot found that hilarious. His face lit up like a kid watching a clown trip over its own shoes. “Yeah, nah, I doubt that.”

You held his gaze without saying a word. He didn’t want a discussion? Fine. Let him stew in the awkward silence and realize how dumb he was acting.

National Geographic should honestly study this dude because the silent treatment riled him up more than anything else, and you were this close to snapping a photo of his dumb little expression.

He ran a hand over his face and nodded dramatically. “Fine, then come along, for fuck’s sake. Don’t piss me off. But don’t start whining if some crackhead in there gives you a dirty look.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. He sounded mad, but: “So you were trying to keep me away from shady people. How heroic."

“If it helps the voices in your head,” he muttered, the most dramatic scowl painted across his face. “Now get your ass moving, don't wanna get stabbed out here.”

“I’ll be damned,” Barry said with a lazy grin as you and Rafe stepped into the little shop. “Country Club and Little Alley Cat showing up together? What is it—my birthday?”

You chuckled, heart skipping a beat for… WHATEVER REASON. OKAY, MOVING ON.

The shop was completely empty, aside from grumpy Larna who sat in the back room behind a desk, glancing up with a death glare before going back to whatever she was doing.

Fucking dumbass Rafe just blinked, flabbergasted and visibly disoriented. Apparently, he hadn’t expected you to know his plug, and for some reason, that made the whole thing feel like home turf.

“You two fucking know each other?” he asked, face scrunched like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

Barry chuckled, leaning on the counter. “You can bet your spoiled little ass on it.” Then he turned to you with a smirk. “And I see Little Kitty has finally gotten herself a guard dog.” He nodded toward Rafe. “Hoping you got him checked for rabies with that temper of his.”

Why did everyone just assume you and Rafe had something going on? You two weren’t exactly radiating happy couple energy. Then again, Rafe wasn’t known for having female friends (which you also weren't), so... yeah.

Rafe tilted his head toward you, ignoring Barry completely. “How the fuck do you know this fucker?”

You had to bite your lip not to smirk at the way he immediately got so worked up.

“Easy, pretty boy,” Barry cut in before you could even respond, clearly amused. “You better be nice to that lady or I’ll beat your rich ass.” He tapped his own cheek. “That bruise of yours? Don’t wanna end up with a matching one on the other side.”

OH. MY. GOD.

The butterflies in your stomach that usually went berserk for Rafe? Yeah, a few of them were dancing for Barry now. Because Dealer Barry stepping up for you in front of Dumbass Rafe? That was… kinda sweet, not gonna lie.

Rafe furrowed his brows, clutching the strap of his backpack like a schoolboy on his first day, about to throw a tantrum because he didn’t wanna go.

He squinted at you. “So what—you're secretly a fucking crackhead now, or what am I supposed to take from this?”

Seriously. Did this guy ever think before he spoke? Like, he literally dealt coke and snorted it himself, but you’re the crazy one?

At this point, you should question your own sanity for even crushing on this guy.

But the funny part wasn’t how hypocritical he was being, no, it was the fact that he chose to go after you instead of Barry despite him basically threatening Rafe. And there was no way Rafe would let a chance pass to put another guy in his place.

Which made the whole thing even more entertaining because, for once, he clearly didn’t have the upper hand. Usually, he carried this presence, this aura, that screamed “look at me wrong and I’ll beat your ass.”

But here? He seemed small.

Like a hyena baring its teeth at a lion.

Rafe Cameron, proud Kook and official Pogue-hater, actually keeping his mouth shut in front of little pawn shop owner Barry? Fucking hilarious.

“No. Sometimes I'm just tagging along when Cara's picking up her weed,” you said amused, watching the gears in Rafe’s brain grind themselves into dust.

“Miss Fancy Boots actually dropped by earlier,” Barry said. “Had her little mutt with her too.” He made a cupping motion in front of his chest, smiling all big. “Top barely holding on for dear life. Wouldn’t even tell me which backwood shack she was visiting.”

Oh, she was really trying to bag JJ Maybank this time. Best of luck, bestie.

You chuckled, but Rafe beat you to a response with a scowl, stepping forward and dropping his backpack on the counter. “Okay, fuck this. I’m not here to fucking chit-chat.”

Barry gave him a look, something sharp flashing in his eyes, but then he just laughed and peeked into the backpack. “Keep running that mouth and I’ll tell Lil’ Alley Cat who was whining on my couch just a few days ago.” He pushed the backpack back toward Rafe and nodded to the right. “Now move your ass to Larna. She's gonna take care of the rest.”

Rafe smiled bitterly, shaking his head. “Nah, that's not what—”

“I’m in a good mood today, Country Club,” Barry cut in, tapping the counter. “Don’t make me introduce you to the girl hiding under here.”

And somehow… you really didn’t think he was joking and you hoped Rafe knew how to behave.

Thankfully, he did.

With a scoff, he grabbed the backpack, threw you an unreadable look, and disappeared into the backroom where grumpy Larna was waiting.

"So, you and Country Club, huh?" Barry stepped around the counter, leaning against it with a lazy smile on his face. "Didn’t think you’d fall for a Kook prince."

After seeing his idiot side, I hadn’t thought so either.

You smiled sheepishly and adjusted the strap of your bag. “He’s not—I mean, there’s nothing going on between us.”

Barry let out an amused chuckle. “Was already wondering how he managed to get you to stick around, ‘cause that stupid boy?” He pointed his thumb toward the backroom. “Nothing but daddy issues and anger problems. Ain’t worth one look from an Alley Cat.”

Shit, that stupid nickname? Only Barry could make it sound right.

“Yeah, he’s an idiot,” you said with a soft smile, sounding like a widow reminiscing about her dead husband. “But he’s actually kinda fun to be around once you figure out how to deal with him.”

Were you seriously defending Rafe’s stupidity right now?

Barry raised his brows, eyes lighting up with the biggest grin. “Cat’s all smiley and dreamy over a boy. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

“What? No, I just—” Heat crept up your neck and you shook your head with an embarrassed smile. “We were paired for a school project. That’s how I got to know him better.”

“Ain't seeing you doing school work right now,” Barry replied, his grin widening. “Must be serious if he’s letting you tag along to this stuff here.”

I actually annoyed him so much he just gave in.

You shook your head again, feeling like you were digging your grave deeper with every word. “No, I’m serious. This is just—”

“I’m just messing with you, Lil Kitty Cat. No need to puff your tail,” Barry said, raising his hands with a lazy chuckle. “But you should watch out. Wouldn’t call that fancy-looking boy my friend, but I know his type well enough to say—if he’s keeping you around, there’s a reason.” His tone shifted ever so slightly. “Don’t want my Alley Cat getting bitten by some spoiled hound dog.”

You eyed Barry quietly for a moment. Him warning you about Rafe stirred something strange in your gut, and part of you knew better than to ignore it.

But right now, you were too scared to question it, so all you did was offer a soft smile. “He’s more of a wired Doberman anyway. Big attitude, but pull the leash once and he gets all dramatic.”

To your surprise, Barry didn’t laugh. “A dog’s a dog. They bite if you’re not careful. And for a sweet kitty like you? That shit can turn bad real fast.” He nodded toward the backroom. “And Dobermans? You don’t wanna pull their leash too hard. Loyal and shit until they start thinking they own you. Then it ain’t cute no more. Had an uncle—couldn’t be around people without his mutt flipping out. Damn thing almost took my hand off once."

Your brows furrowed in irritation. It had been funny when Cara had joked about Rafe being possessive and jealous and all, but hearing Barry say it like a genuine warning... yeah, that hit differently.

And suddenly, Rafe’s weird behavior since yesterday started making sense.

Him getting mad when Topper asked you to come along. Him nearly beating the crap out of Rob for no reason. Him now suddenly wanting to spend time with you, being all flirty and suggestive and—oh god, please no.

Maybe this wasn’t about him liking you. Maybe he just hated the idea of someone else playing with a toy he’d throw away the moment he got bored, found another, or worse, shredded it to pieces. And until then, he'd bark at anyone reaching out for it.

The smoothie you'd drank earlier threatened to come back up. You didn’t want to be someone's toy.

“Aww, no. Didn’t mean to wipe that smile off your face, Kitty Cat,” Barry said, his lazy smile returning. “I’m just saying—be careful around a boy like that. Though, I trust you’ll know when to pull your claws out.” He knocked on the counter and chuckled. “Otherwise, just say the word, and I’ll introduce his fancy ass to my girl.”

Barry probably meant well, but your brain had already soaked up his words like a sponge, throwing them into a spiral, dragging them into the most anxious corners of your mind.

Still, you managed a smile. “No worries, Barry. I don’t think he even—”

You didn’t dare finish that sentence as Rafe came out of the backroom, a deep scowl on his face. He didn’t even look at you as he passed between you and Barry, only muttering, “Let’s go.”

“Nah, nah, nah, Country Club,” Barry said, raising his brows and pushing off the counter with a grin. “We ain’t done yet.”

Rafe stopped, turning back with a glare that practically screamed he was done with everyone. He towered over Barry, but somehow still looked small. “I got your shit. What fucking else do you wanna piss me off with?”

Barry ignored him, smiling softly at you. “Was nice seeing you again, Alley Cat. Don’t go running off too far.” He nodded toward the door. “Now get those little paws outta here, I still got some business with this boy.”

An uneasy feeling spread in your stomach, but you knew better than to argue, so you just smiled with a nod. “Yeah, see you around, Barry,” you said, trying to ignore Rafe’s burning stare on you.

You passed him quietly, trying to suppress the sudden thoughts threatening to tear open a pit you thought you’d buried not even a few days ago.

And while you’d entered Barry’s little pawn shop with a smile and warmth in your chest, you left it now with uncertainty in your eyes and a deep heavy feeling in your gut.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you and Barry?” Rafe asked after the two of you had gotten back into the car.

And the reason for that question? Such a funny fucking story. And it started with you even knowing this fucker in the first place. You two apparently getting along—and oh, fun fact—apparently getting along really well, because guess what? Barry hadn’t kept Rafe in the shop to talk business. Oh no, he hadn’t just talked.

He had fucking threatened him.

Said stupid shit like he’d show Rafe how people in the Cut handled things when no one was looking if Rafe didn’t behave. If he dared to hurt or play with you or whatever fucking else Barry had preached like some back-alley saint.

Rafe couldn’t even wrap his head around what that fucking Pogue thought he was doing. Like if Rafe actually wanted to, he could send every cop in town straight to Barry’s crusty little pawn shop and have him write his bullshit threats on the damn cell wall.

Fuck. Like seriously, what the hell was that shit?!

You just shook your head, a weird smile on your lips that didn’t even come close to your eyes. “What? Nothing. Like I said, he’s Cara’s dealer. That’s how I got to know him.”

And now you had the audacity to lie straight to Rafe’s face in his car? Nah.

“He literally threatened to blow my brains out if I looked at you the wrong way,” Rafe said, tapping his temple with a confused laugh. “Like—what kind of crazy-ass psycho bullshit is that? And that weird-ass nickname? No way in hell he isn't your fucking boyfriend or some shit.”

The idea that you belonged to someone—Barry, of all people? That messed with Rafe’s head in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain. It filled him with such rage and confusion, he was so close to grabbing that damn backpack on the backseat, taking out a bundle of coke that stupid grandma had handed him, and snorting a line right off his Mercedes' hood.

But he was so thrown off by your sudden change of demeanor, your whole vibe completely off since Rafe had come back from the shop—strange, distant, almost... bitter—that he decided he'd rather demand some fucking answers.

And when you just smiled weakly instead of snapping back like usual, pushing his buttons, he knew something was up.

“No, that’s just how he is,” you said while buckling your seatbelt, the weird tone in your voice not sounding like you at all. “He only means well.”

Rafe blinked at you, his chest tightening as your eyes finally met his, but something was missing.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” he asked, his voice sharper than he meant it to be.

Your brows twitched, and there was a flicker in your gaze he couldn’t place. Again, that strange smile that didn’t fit your face. “What? Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head slightly.

Just nothing. Normally you’d say some shit like, ‘Why are you getting all worked up, I don’t owe you any explanation, blah blah’—but this? It confused Rafe. And it pissed him off that he couldn’t figure it out.

“Barry said some shit to you?” Rafe raised his brows.

That was the only logical explanation. You went in all cocky and smiley, and now you looked like someone had shot a puppy in front of you.

You shook your head again, and Rafe felt a sharp stab of disappointment from how empty you sounded. “No, I’m just tired. Guess the lack of sleep’s finally catching up,” you said with a soft smile.

Rafe clenched his jaw, fingers tapping against the console. He was this close to snapping, but he didn’t want to yell. You’d probably shut down completely. Wheezie did the same thing when Dad started raising his voice and Rafe hated witnessing that.

“Okay, something’s clearly bothering you,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “You’re always on about how important it is to talk shit out, and now you’re the one being all weird.”

Seriously, why did your behavior even bother him in the first place? Normally when some chick was trynna act sulky he’d drop her off at her place or kick her out immediately because he didn’t care about that shit.

But with you, he somehow couldn’t and that irritated the fuck out of him. Probably because I deserve some fucking answers.

“There’s nothing to solve because there’s no issue,” you finally said softly, clearly bullshitting.

Rafe clenched his jaw, running through every possible reason why you were suddenly acting like this. “Fuck that. There’s obviously an issue.” He tapped his chest with his fingers. “Did I say something that got the minions in your head running again? Shit, I was just pissed earlier because—”

“No, really. Everything's—”

“Fine? Don’t bullshit me. You were all bold and mouthy earlier and now?” Rafe furrowed his brows, trying to understand what the fuck was going on in your head. “Now you’re acting all wilted and melancholic like Topper after some chick rejects him.”

That got a chuckle out of you, and Rafe felt his features soften.

“I’m not acting wilted,” you said, a little amusement finally slipping back into your voice.

Rafe nodded. “You are. I’m guessing Barry ran his stupid mouth while I was gone.” He narrowed his eyes, another thought hitting him. “Or did that fucker creep on you?”

“What? Oh my god, no,” you replied, shaking your head, puzzled. “No, it’s just…” You held his gaze like you were the one with questions. After a second, you looked down at your fidgeting hands, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I guess you’re right. I’m probably just creating a problem in my head that doesn’t even exist.”

Rafe frowned. “What the fuck did he say?”

You looked up, pretty eyes somehow carrying that sad little shine again, and Rafe had to fight the sudden urge to storm back into Barry’s shitty shop and drag the guy’s face across the counter.

“I...He didn’t exactly say it… I mean, I’d already been wondering...,” you started, clearly struggling to continue.

Rafe was so fucking close to losing it. He shook his head and gestured to his chest again. “What, huh? Me dealing coke? Is that what suddenly has you all scared? Shit, I’m not some criminal like Barry, okay? I just—”

"No, that's not it", you cut in, voice lacking your usual attitude. "I mean, sure, it's—"

"Holy fucking shit, just spit it out." Rafe couldn't bear you dancing around the answer any longer. Aggressively he gestured toward the pawn shop. "If Barry didn't fucking harass you then I seriously can't fucking imagine what's got you acting like this."

You pressed your lips together, eyes wide, brows raised like some deer about to get shot. "I don't know how to phrase it without it sounding like I'm ... delusional or crazy."

Rafe scoffed amused, both hands gesturing toward you. "Shit, you are crazy. Now fucking spit it out or I'm driving the car into the next fucking tree."

"Okay," you replied with a laugh, the smile quickly fading as your gaze drifted to the fidgeting fingers in your lap. "Okay, I just—" You seemed to take a deep breath in. "What's your business with me?"

Rafe blinked. “What?”

“I…” You pressed your lips together, clutching your bag tighter. “I’m not saying there is any business," you said, a nervous chuckle escaping. "I’m just… confused. I mean, I know we’ve had this conversation before. I know it’s stupid, I’m just…”

You furrowed your brows, meeting his eyes again. “You need to understand, I’m not trying to piss you off. I mean, you're probably right. It’s just my brain spiraling over nothing again. It's just… shit, I know this here is completely casual, I mean we aren't even friends, I just..."

You let out a strained breath, voice unsteady. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I really don’t wanna come across like I’m assuming something’s going on in the first place. I mean, you already think I’m crazy,” you said, a distant smile tugging at your lips. “But obviously it’s totally fine if you’re only looking for a chance at some temporary fun. It’s just… in the hypothetical case you actually do expect something to happen...”

Another awkward laugh slipped out, and you sank into your seat, brows furrowed as you smiled nervously, “God, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry, I probably sound—”

“Holy fucking shit, you need to chill the fuck out,” Rafe cut in, staring at you like you’d lost your damn mind. Because this? How much fucking longer did you wanna go on?

This was absolutely insane. The way your brain made up all this shit. How the fuck did you even function at all?

He pointed to his temples, eyes wide. “Seriously, this is not just borderline crazy. This is straight-up insane. I mean I am going insane just by listening to this."

“Well yeah, that’s actually what I was trying to say,” you muttered, hands fiddling in your lap. “I just don't understand why you'd wanna hang out with me if I'm getting on your nerves—unless there's some other motive.”

Jesus Christ. Rafe didn’t know anyone with this level of anxiety and overthinking. Not even Wheezie came close.

But that wasn’t what really pissed him off.

Sure, if you were a little nuts, fine. It was even kind of amusing, honestly. At least you had the brains to think about shit.

No, what really pissed him off was that you were questioning him, even after he’d already told you the answer to this topic in school just a few days ago. He'd just tried to help you by suggesting to work at Tannyhill for the next project session but you fucking declined because you'd thought he was just trying to hook up with you.

Okay, yeah, maybe at this point the idea of sleeping with you wasn't exactly unwelcome—though with your nerves, you'd both probably have a mental breakdown halfway through—but it wasn’t about that.

It was about the fucking principle.

You were acting like his word meant nothing. Like he was just some lying, sleazy, piece-of-shit Pogue.

Rafe clenched his jaw, using every ounce of self-control not to snap. “There's no fucking other motive. You make it sound like I'm plotting some crazy-ass shit.”

Your brows twitched, lips pressing together. Somehow, you still didn’t look satisfied.

For a moment, you just stared at him, hesitation flickering in your eyes, but then your voice came out soft, so soft it made Rafe's chest tighten in a way he didn’t like. “I’m not trying to be annoying or—”

“You are,” Rafe interrupted, surprised by the lack of bite in his tone. His face twisted and he raised his shoulders, gesturing at his chest. “Like, I don’t fucking get why you’re questioning me when I already told you—”

“I know.” You nodded, frustration leaking into your voice. “I know and I really appreciate it, but I just… it’s my brain, okay?” You tapped your finger against your temple. “It talks shit and I start believing it and I just can’t stop it. And then I get anxious—especially when someone gives it something to chew on—and it’s just so frustrating because I'm definitely not trying to piss you off, I don’t wanna ruin—I mean, I’m just asking for some reassurance, that’s all.”

Your brows knit together. “But then again, I don’t want some fake reassurance either if you actually—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I like hanging out with you, okay?” Rafe pressed his lips together as the words left his mouth, not even sure why the fuck he’d said them. Why he even cared enough to listen to all this bullshit. But right now, all he wanted was to shut you the fuck up, so he didn’t bother filtering.

“I’m not trying to get in your pants, alright?” he added, wearing an irritated, almost amused smile. “I’d have to be fucking desperate to put up with all your messed-up crazy shit just for the chance to hook up with you. That's... fuck, I’m not that needy.”

He gestured to you, frustration seeping through his voice. “You piss me off, but I can deal with it. Shit, I think I even like it. You’re not some boring-ass gossip bitch like Ruthie.” He furrowed his brows, refusing to unpack what the hell that meant, now tapping his chest with his fingertips, voice strained. “But what I can’t fucking stand is not being taken seriously.”

Judging by your face, he hadn’t just shut your brain off, he’d completely nuked it. Your eyes were wide, lips pressed tight, and even your fidgeting had stopped.

He half expected you to start crying for whatever reason, but thank fuck you didn’t. You just frowned, that softness still in your expression. “I do take you seriously. That’s why I'm so confused. All these… I don’t know, suggestive comments and stuff. You say you don’t mean anything by it, but then you’re all teasing the next second. It’s confusing.”

Seriously, had you ever even interacted with a boy before Rafe?

He let out a frustrated smile, nodding. “Shit, yeah, ever heard of fucking flirting? That’s the thing people do because it’s fun. It doesn’t fucking have to lead to anything.” Rafe raised his brows. “Unless you want it to.”

And there it was again—that shift in you. Your whole vibe changed, whenever he said shit like this. And he couldn’t fucking tell if you were flustered, uncomfortable, or just weirded out.

You shook your head, a nervous laugh bubbling up like he’d asked you to strip in the backseat. “Of course, I know what flirting is. It’s just—In my head, this feels like… I don’t know mixed signals or whatever and—“

“Okay, fuck. Stop.” Rafe had hit his limit. He ran a hand over his face, voice tight with frustration. “I’m only saying this once, so fucking listen, alright?” He gestured to you again. “I fuck with you. You’re somehow fun to be around, even though you’re literally the least chill person I know.”

His brows twitched, a moment of hesitation flickering across his face, but he pushed through. He wasn’t gonna overthink—he wasn’t you. “And shit, yeah, of course, I’m flirting with you. You’re a cute chick. If you said the word, I’d be down to bend you over in the backseat right now, but why the fuck would I waste my energy on someone who’s clearly not into casual shit.”

Fuck. Now that he’d said it, he felt just as stunned as you looked.

Saying these words out loud ... it angered him. He'd basically just given in to you. But the thing that actually riled him up? The fact he'd just acknowledged out loud that he knew you weren't interested in him. That he couldn't get you into bed with some charm and a little flirting. That you were out of reach.

And fuck, this just made hanging out with you all the more confusing because why the fuck did he enjoy this shit if he was well aware that he wouldn't take you home later for some quick fun.

But worse than all of that was the way he found himself waiting.

Desperate for your response. Hoping you’d push back. Hoping you’d say something—anything—to let him know he'd just interpreted your signals wrong, that, yes, you did indeed find him attractive, that you actually enjoyed his presence, his flirts, and teasing. That you'd love to be his new friends-with-benefits-chick.

Jesus fucking Christ, he should go back inside Barry’s store and beat the shit out of that fucker for whatever the fuck he'd said to you that made you spiral this hard, and now Rafe was out here saying and thinking shit like this.

"Okay, now I'm even more confused," you said, smiling awkwardly. "You say you like spending time with me but at the same time, you also feel like you're wasting your time here."

Rafe was so close to smashing his head against the steering wheel. He raised his hands in exasperation. "And you say you're not trying to piss me off but right now I'm so close to losing my shit."

He aggressively tapped his finger on the middle console. "I just tried telling you that I'm not here because I'm looking for a chance at a fucking hookup, okay? Seriously, how much clearer do I need to be?"

“Okay. Just to clarify, for my own sanity,” you started slowly, voice soaked in nervous energy (Rafe was literally one second away from having a fucking stroke). “You like hanging out with me but according to your logic, you're not someone who's wasting his time with a girl if you're not gaining something from it."

With a pained expression, Rafe closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and nodded with a distressed "Uh-huh".

Maybe if he just continued agreeing with you, then you'd finally shut up, because clearly snapping back only seemed to continue dragging on this horrible limbo of yours.

Some strained chuckle escaped your lips. "And considering you're still asking me to chill with you even though you seem to be aware that I don't wanna be someone's pastime, does that mean… I mean, is what you're hoping to gain from spending time with me… a friendship?"

Rafe's head snapped up.

That was your fucking conclusion to all of this?

Fucking hell. Did he look like someone in need of more clingy idiots crowding his life? Topper and Kelce were already enough and he didn’t even receive anything in return for dealing with their bullshit.

And having a female friend without getting to bend her over once in a while? He'd never even considered it. The only girls Rafe had ever privately hung out with were the ones he'd benefit from.

And all of them either got so fucking annoying, he'd dropped them, or worse—they'd wanted more. Dates, gifts, PDA. A label. The title of Rafe Cameron's girlfriend.

They all wanted the benefits that came of being with him but none of them had actually wanted him.

But you? Well, he had to admit you were different. You didn’t do hookups. You didn’t chase him because of his last name and the benefits that came with it.

And the crazy part? That just fucking pissed him off more.

Because for some fucked-up reason he'd actually learned to tolerate your presence enough that he could deal with your crazy-ass brain outside of the project despite him not receiving some fun time in return. And now you assumed he wanted this to actually result in some permanent shit.

But for whatever reason, the idea that this might be over after handing in your project next week? That actually stirred something weird in his chest.

Right now, Rafe could still claim the project was the reason for you two spending time together (if you ignored the fact you weren't doing school shit at the moment). Sure, he’d admitted he liked you—but everything about the way you two had been hanging out this past week could still be chalked up to the assignment. But once that was over… then what?

Fuck, all of this was giving him a headache. And now you were pressuring him to define whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you.

Rafe shook his head in irritation. "Why do you even need a fucking label for some casual hangout? Can't we just fucking chill?"

You gestured to your chest, a distressed smile on your face. "Yeah, of course. I just… my brain needs to make sense of this somehow, so I can place this in either ‘okay, this ends when the project’s over’ or ‘alright, get ready to make space for this person, they’re gonna stick around.’ It’s fucking stupid, I know, but it helps me adjust to new people."

This right here was the biggest fucking test of patience in Rafe's entire life and he was so fucking sick of you demanding him to clarify shit when you were the one that made him question his sanity.

"Shit, I don't fucking know, alright?" Rafe raised his shoulders with an irritated smile. "I mean what the fuck do you want? You’re calling me confusing, but I don’t even fucking know if you actually like me or if you’re just tagging along because you’re too scared to decline because of some people-pleasing bullshit or whatever.”

Like he'd admitted all this fucking shit just now, but why didn't you? Why didn't you offer him some reassurance?

Your gaze softened, and that only irritated him more.

“I'm actually very capable of saying 'No',” you replied.

“Yeah, the fuck do I know.” Rafe threw his hands up. And then, a disgusting thought crossed his mind. “Or are you just tagging along because you're hoping for some attention of being seen with me?”

Finally, your frown returned—thank god. That little bit of fire he was used to.

“What? No!” You shook your head, clearly confused. “Aside from the fact that I couldn’t care less about shit like that, I’d rather jump off a cliff than draw unnecessary attention to myself.” Your expression softened again, lips quirking into a crooked smile. “I came along because I wanted to. Not because I’m trying to get some pics snapped of me being seen with an A-List celebrity.”

Just say it, Rafe thought, not even caring about your stupid comment. You were so fucking close to saying it. Tiptoeing on the edge of it. So damn close to saying what he needed to hear.

But you didn’t. And it pissed him off. Fucked with his head. Just—

Fuck all of that.

Maybe it sounded pathetic, maybe it was, but he didn’t care. He had to know. “So you actually do like hanging out with me?”

A soft laugh left your lips and your brows knit slightly. “Yes? I’m not spending my time with people I can’t stand.”

And just like that, something in Rafe finally let go. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It felt like a win—even though he hadn’t actually won anything. Actually, he’d probably lost some fucking braincells discussing that shit.

He sank back into his seat, staring through the windshield, running a hand through his hair, no fucking energy left after this marathon of a discussion.

He tilted his head toward you with furrowed brows, motioning between the two of you. “So where’s the fucking problem, huh? We both like hanging out and neither of us is hiding some secret agenda or some shit.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Except you literally said—”

“Yeah, I know what I fucking said,” Rafe cut in, already regretting having voiced that he'd be down to bend you over. But whatever. It was out there now, so who the fuck cared.

“I’m not some horny perv who's unable to be in a room with a chick without trying to get in her pants,” he added, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna pass up on a little flirting and teasing.”

You raised your brows slightly, chin tilting downward. "So—"

"YES, for fuck’s sake!" Rafe raised his hands, shifting up in his seat, absolutely at the end of his rope. "If that helps to end this fucking stupid discussion, then yes please, go ahead and tell your crazy-ass brain it can open a new fucking folder titled ‘I made Rafe Cameron lose his fucking mind to the point where I force-befriended him’. And put some big-ass lock on it because that shit stays closed from now on."

He let out a strained breath, an exasperated smile twitching on his lips. "There. Does this shut you up or do I need to craft you a fucking friendship bracelet with my name on it?”

The worst part: The image of you wearing his name around your wrist sparked fucking JOY in his fucking chest for some fucked-up reason.

SEE. YOU'RE MAKING HIM GO THIS FUCKING CRAZY, HE WAS GETTING EXCITED ABOUT STUPID FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS.

You just stared at him, lips parted slightly like your brain was still spiraling over the obvious. Rafe almost thought he’d have to go back into the pawn shop and ask Barry to blow his fucking brains out, but you simply shook your head, a gentle smile forming.

“I don’t think that’s necessary", you replied with a soft smile.

Rafe eyed you impatiently, waiting for you to go on and spiral into another damn monologue about how you had to figure out the right color for this mental folder, and which fucking font would best match the content—because god forbid you’d use some bullshit like Papyrus or—WHAT THE FUCK DID HE KNOW, JESUS CHRIST YOU MADE HIM THINK ABOUT THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT.

To top it all off, you had the audacity to stay quiet and Rafe could physically feel his nerves blow up. “That’s it?”

No fucking way that actually resolved this fucking discussion.

You eyed him amused like he’d just hallucinated this whole fuckass conversation. “Well, yeah.”

Rafe’s brows dropped to a scowl. “You're fucking kidding me, right?”

“No.” A small laugh left you, and that familiar glimmer was back in your eyes. “I just needed some clarity to calm my nerves. That’s just how my brain works. I’m okay as long as things make sense. But the second a thought enters my mind that could mess with that—even if it’s ridiculous—it sticks. And then it ruins the whole logic. And until the thought can be ruled out, it stays, and my head chews it up until it gets worse.”

That's it. You were officially the reason Rafe considered therapy just so someone could tell him why the fuck he even put up with your shit.

Like, seriously, Rafe had some fucked-up shit going on in his head, but you? Holy shit, if he had to deal with the crap your brain pulled every day, he’d fucking lose it.

Your head sounded like a fucking prison.

Rafe let out a distressed breath. "Now, care to tell me, what was the actual fucking reason for you spiraling this hard in the first place?" He gestured toward the pawn shop. "And don't fucking think about lying. Either you tell me or I'm gonna go back inside and beat the answer out of that fucker."

He wouldn’t, though. Barry might’ve looked like a little bum, but Rafe had seen it enough times—his threats didn’t usually stay just threats. And sure, Rafe might’ve had the upper hand physically, but Barry didn’t do fights.

He'd pull out a gun and even Rafe's fists had no chance against that.

You pressed your lips together, hesitating for a second. “He just told me to be careful around you. It wasn’t even really what he said, it was more the way he said it.” You shook your head, puzzled. “And I guess my brain just filled in the worst-case scenario because… well…” A flicker of uncertainty in your pretty eyes. “I mean, not to sound like a dick, but it’s just a fact that you don’t really hang out with girls. And when you do it’s like... you know.”

Yeah, that was true. Rafe didn’t deny it. But still, why the fuck did you have this fucking player image of him?

Sure, he did hookups once in a while—every few weeks maybe at some random party. And yeah, he’d had friends with benefits, but like four or five times at most in his whole damn life. But the way you made it sound? Like he was out here fucking someone new every night.

“So instead of just asking me straight up what’s going on, you’d rather fucking… what? Sulk and act weird as hell? What kind of childish reaction is that?” Rafe asked, face twisting in frustration.

You let out a short laugh. “I didn’t wanna piss you off by bringing this up. Which, clearly, I did.”

“Well, yeah, because I practically had to beat the answer out of you,” Rafe said with a scowl, motioning to his chest. “What actually pisses me off is when people won’t just say what the fuck they're trying to say.”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m sorry for making this so messy.” A soft chuckle slipped out. “I guess we both value clear answers… just on different scales.”

Yeah, except Rafe didn’t have a mental breakdown when he didn’t get one.

“I just don’t fucking understand why you can’t just ignore these fucking thoughts,” he said, oddly calm for some reason. "When some shit starts bothering me, I just fucking ignore it. If I need to make a decision, I just do it. If some asshole pisses me off? I put him in his fucking place.”

He scoffed. “And your brain sounds like one big asshole. You just gotta show it who's boss.”

Surprisingly, you laughed—soft, genuine—and Rafe blinked, confused.

“What?” he asked. “I’m serious. It’s absolutely insane that your own mind is your worst enemy. That’s fucking fucked-up.”

He gestured to himself. “I mean that dude pisses me off so badly, I wanna smash his face into a wall just to get him to shut the fuck up. How the fuck do you let him pull this shit on you?”

“That’s—” You laughed again, and something weird flipped in Rafe’s stomach. “I appreciate the energy,” you said, “but honestly, I’m already good when people just have a little patience with me.”

Your expression grew distant. “When I bring stuff like this up, I’m not trying to be annoying. I’m just genuinely trying to find clarity in the chaos up here.” You tapped your temple, smiling gently again. “That’s why I really appreciate that you actually talked with me this time—even though I’m sure you wanted to smash my head through the window.”

He'd rather have your head pressed against some sheets to let go of this fucking pressure inside him but Rafe forced this thought down (see? easy).

So he just shook his head. “I did but I’d rather not have your dad on my ass because of that. That dude’s got some crazy aura.”

Another laugh slipped from your lips, and Rafe felt his features soften. “I guess. He served as a combat medic in the military, so I think some of that still lingers beneath the surface.”

Shit, that made sense. Rafe knew there was a reason that guy had given him the creeps the first time he'd looked at him. He seemed nice, sure—kind even—but deep down Rafe was certain that man could knock someone out cold with a single punch.

The weird thing was: Rafe actually felt less tense around him than around his own dad.

“Shit, another reason to keep my hands off you,” Rafe muttered with a low chuckle. “Don’t need Liam Neeson in Taken chasing me down.”

Another laugh. And damn, that made Rafe feel like some kind of winner.

“I doubt you have to worry", you said. "He actually seemed to like—”

Your phone started buzzing inside your bag.

"Cara," you said when you pulled it out with an apologetic smile. “I should take this.”

Rafe gave a reluctant nod, even though the sudden interruption annoyed the fuck out of him.

“What’s up?” you said, holding the phone to your ear. After a beat, you added, “I’m with Rafe.”

His head snapped up like he’d been struck by lightning.

That was... he couldn’t remember you ever saying his name out loud before. And now that he’d heard it—coming from your sweet voice—fuck.

It did something to him. A weird kind of something. Buzzing in his stomach, warmth blooming in his chest, and this deep, unfamiliar ache for something he couldn’t quite name.

“Really?” You laughed. “We’re actually close by—Yeah, at Barry’s—Girl, no—Yeah, I know he told me—Yeah, I know I was the one who asked you—Okay, yeah, sure—So I assume you're with—yep, thought so—Okay—Seriously?—Alright—Yeah, nah, let’s not.” You laughed again. “Okay—Yeah, see you in a bit.”

You hung up, your whole presence lighting back up.

“Sorry,” you said with a soft smile, slipping the phone back into your bag. “She’s at the beach nearby and asked me to join her. Or well... I kinda asked her earlier if we could hang out, so....”

Rafe felt a frown creeping in, disappointment taking over his entire body. You were about to fucking ditch him.

He raised his brows. “Now?”

You nodded, toying with your bag strap. “Well... yeah. She needs some backup.”

“What, her boots got stuck in the sand or some shit?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “No, she’s with some people and… well, she needs help with a boy.”

“Her?” Rafe scoffed, disbelieving. “She’s the most upfront and confrontational person I’ve ever met. What the fuck does she need help with?” He tilted his head. “And didn’t she have some thing going on with Topper?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you said, holding your hands up in amusement. “She’s super complicated when it comes to that stuff.”

Girls. Rafe didn’t fucking get them.

“So what, you want me to drop you off now?” He didn't even try to hide his disappointment.

Your smile faltered slightly. “Well, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Rafe clenched his jaw. You were actually going to leave him now—after he'd helped you get rid of your hangover, after he’d actually shown patience and calmed the voices in your head, after all his nerves were fried beyond repair.

You were scared he might play you? Nah, he was the one who felt toyed with right now.

But as much as Rafe wanted to call you out for it, snap at you for being all anxious and now daring to pull this shit, he just didn’t have it in him. No strength left. He really didn’t have the fucking energy or patience for another long-ass conversation with you monologuing about shit.

Sure, he could just decide to tag along, because when did Rafe ever ask for permission, but his gut told him that was a weird fucking move. He wasn't your fucking dog to accompany you everywhere.

Fuck, he didn't fucking know how to handle shit with a girl like you.

So he just nodded, buckled up, and started the engine. Letting out a tight breath as he pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, “Where to?”

You hesitated for a second. “Do you know where the western beach of the Cut is?”

Rafe scoffed and nearly stopped the car. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Of course, he knew where that fucking beach was. Sarah always went there after school to hang out with her stupid little Pogue friends.

So yeah, he could already guess exactly what kind of people Cara was hanging out with: those annoying-ass rats.

The thing that pissed him off the most wasn’t even you ditching him. It wasn’t driving you around like a damn chauffeur. It wasn’t even that you were trading him for a group of Pogue losers.

Nah. It was the fact that Sarah had once again managed to stick her nose into shit that didn’t fucking concern her. Because somehow this reeked of her meddling.

And the worst part? It felt like she was winning again. Like she’d won over their dad, like she'd won over Kie during her time at Kildare Academy by turning her against Rafe just for them to end up having some bitchy fallout shortly after.

Like she’d get to win you over too with some fake-ass bullshit.

And you, being prone to falling for shit like that with that brain of yours, would probably believe her too. Not because you were naive, nah, but because your head would probably soak Sarah's sweet words up, falling back into a spiral over Rafe's intention or some bullshit.

Fuck.

Rafe actually liked this weird acquaintanceship with you (THERE, THAT'S THE LABEL THAT FIT THIS SHIT). He didn’t need Sarah to ruin that—or worse—take you from him. Pull you into her little shitty-ass, feel-good Pogue bullshit friend group.

And the most fucked up thing? You weren’t even his. But the very thought of Sarah turning you against him anyway?

Nah. He wouldn't let that happen.

You said Rafe was hoping to gain some shitty-ass friendship from this? Fine. If that’s what it took for your brain to hold on to Rafe, he’d gladly be your fucking friend.

He’d throw every goddamn principle he had out the window before he let Sarah take something else from him before he even had a chance to claim it for himself.

Because for the first time in years, Rafe actually felt like he didn't wanna let go of a girl. Nah, he actually wanted to keep you around. Not as some warm body in his bed—it fucked with his head that you weren’t into hookups but he could accept that—but because somehow, you were the first girl who didn't hang on his ass to brag to her friends later about getting to ride his dick.

Shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were either a lesbian or just completely uninterested in sex altogether. Which only messed with his head even more, because if both of you were here willingly, what the fuck was the point if no one was gaining anything from it?

Like, why the fuck did Rafe feel this pull toward you? Not just sexually… more like—fuck, he didn’t even know. He also couldn't compare it to the short-lived whatever-thing he'd had with Kie either because he'd only ever seen her as some extension of Sarah that he tolerated. Thinking of her even remotely sexual had just felt fucking weird.

But you? Being around you came close to landing a hole-in-one during golfing, the feeling after being praised by his dad, the way his body buzzed after a line of coke. Which honestly made him wonder if the perfume you were wearing was laced with chemicals or some shit that messed with his head like that.

Fuck, this? Him thinking about this shit at all—that was your fucking fault.

Rafe just knew he liked having you around so there was no need to let you go.

For now.

So as much as he hated, despised, and loathed the idea of you ditching him for some beach party with dirty-ass Pogues and Princess Sarah, by now, he'd learned that if he kept his temper in check, his patience with you would pay off.

Shit, he'd even add a little bonus.

So, when you'd asked if he knew the way, he shot you a raised brow and a casual side-eye, and in the most unbothered tone he said, “Yeah, it’s just down the road. Assuming your friend's succeeding with that guy, I’m guessing you’re gonna need someone to pick you up later.”

And when your brows twitched and your eyes lit up, Rafe knew he was one step closer to keeping you around for real.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

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 ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

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[mangooes]

Mirror...Mirror, Run now

It started with an innocent game of “who can toss the coin into the teacup first.”

In their defense, Luke and Kieran had almost managed to keep the chaos contained to the hallway.

Almost.

The glimmering sound of something shattering into a thousand crystalline pieces sent a wave of silence through the manor.

The twins froze mid-competition, eyes wide in horror as they turned in unison to the sight of the ornate, gold-framed vintage mirror lying in shimmering ruins on the living room floor.

“...Wasn’t that the mirror Missus bought from that antique dealer who made her sign a scam contract to own it?” Kieran whispered, voice laced with doom.

“...Yup,” Luke nodded slowly. “The one she called her ‘lucky morning glory mirror’ because it made her feel like a fairy queen.”

Kieran swallowed. “We’re gonna die.”

“We need the boss. Now.”

“You what?” Sylus stood still, jaw tight, crimson eyes twitching slightly as he stared down at the panicked twins.

“It was Kieran’s idea—!”

“Excuse me?! You were the one who said ‘I bet I can flick the coin in better than you!’”

“It was clearly your reckless aim that—!”

“BOTH of you,” Sylus growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Let me get this straight: you broke my wife's favorite mirror. The one she imported. That has sentimental value. And you want me to help you replace it before she finds out?”

Two matching heads nodded like bobbleheads.

“Because if she gets mad—” Luke started.

“She doesn’t just scold us, boss,” Kieran added gravely. “She scorches souls.”

Sylus sighed so hard it might’ve shifted the weather outside. “You’re lucky I love her more than I fear her.”

“...That’s saying a lot,” Luke muttered under his breath.

Sylus shot them a glare. “Get in the car.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mission: Operation Mirror Replacement.

The problem: The exact model was discontinued.

Three stores, a phone call to (Name)’s favorite antique dealer, and one shady back-alley antique auction later—they finally found a similar mirror. Almost identical frame. Same soft golden pattern. If you squinted, it even looked aged the same way.

“It's not exact,” Sylus said, eyeing it critically.

“It’s close enough if we dim the lights and pray,” Kieran said, already hauling it to the car.

They returned to the manor in record time, moving like thieves in the night. With extreme care, they replaced the shattered pieces with the new mirror. Sylus even summoned a thin mist of his Evol to darken the lighting around it—just enough to mimic the original's aged glow.

As they stood back to admire their work, the front door clicked open.

Ah, the mother of the house is home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stepped in humming, carrying a tote bag with fresh peaches. Her curls bounced with every step, and her heels clicked lightly against the floor as she entered.

The boys immediately snapped into casual poses that screamed we’re absolutely hiding something.

(Name)’s eyes scanned the room slowly.

Her gaze landed on Sylus, hair slightly tousled, shirt untucked from where he'd been hauling mirrors into place.

“Sysy,” she greeted sweetly. “Where were you just now? Your hair looks like it wrestled with a thundercloud.”

Sylus opened his mouth, but before he could spin a tale, Luke panicked.

“HE WAS DEFINITELY NOT OUT BUYING A MIRROR, I MEAN—UH—”

Kieran facepalmed so hard he nearly broke his nose.

She blinked.

She looked from Luke… to Sylus… to the new mirror.

Then smiled.

The kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh,” she said, slipping her heels off. “So that’s why the air smells like panic and desperation.”

Sylus began backing up instinctively.

(Name) bent down, grabbed her slipper from the shoe rack, and turned to face the three grown men standing like guilty puppies in a row.

She raised the slipper like a judge raising a gavel.

“You have five seconds.”

Kieran squeaked.

Luke was already running.

“FIVE—”

Sylus turned on his heel and bolted.

“FOUR!”

“Boss, save yourself!” Kieran cried, diving behind a couch.

“THREE—”

(Name) began advancing, slipper in one hand, peaches still in the other like a poetic contradiction of war and domesticity.

“...Missus, mercy?” Luke called from under the dining table.

“TWO.”

Sylus peeked from behind a hallway wall, grinning far too amused despite himself.

“ONE—!”

Chaos erupted.

The twins screamed.

The slipper flew.

Sylus caught it mid-air.

(Name) blinked, unimpressed.

Sylus smirked, huffed out a laugh. “We need to fix your aim, kitten.”

She marched up to him, arms crossed. “Oh don't you 'kitten' me! You are still guilty, husband.”

“I helped fix it,” he defended.

“You helped cover it up.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, grinning. “Would do it again if it meant seeing that fire in your eyes.”

She huffed, fighting a smile.

“...Next time,” she warned, “tell me before the twins cry to you like kicked puppies.”

“They threatened to tell Mephisto,” Sylus said with mock horror.

“Oh no,” (Name) deadpanned. “Not Mephisto.” She turned to the couch. “KIERAN I SEE YOU.”

“AAAAHHH—!!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took exactly four more minutes and a batch of peach tarts to calm the storm.

And as Sylus later lay with (Name) curled into his chest, the mirror reflecting their laughter from across the room, he whispered:

“You had your fun terrorizing the twins?”

She kissed his jaw. “I did. Still, next time if I catch you—”

“Slipper to the face?”

“Twice.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

“Noted, sweetie. Noted.”

AAA TMRW IS HIS BDY GUYS IM SCARED AND SO EXCITED I LOVE U SYLUS PLS anyways this is one of the drafts i have! I revised it a bit but, a long bday fic is up for tmrw :))

[chaconnehoonie]

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

[neptunesbeloved]

Yellow Carnation

wc: 2,384

Synopsis: How lovely, he planned a surprise just to cheer you up

tw: she pronouns / female reader / married couple / random!malecharacter x reader

Author's note: Honestly not writing for a specific character is kinda pissing me off, I can't be specific in my descriptions.

Material list

This needs to stop, it has happened for so long. He noticed how her eyes deliberately avoided his. He whitenessed her voice quieting down as the days passed by. But about all, seeing her warm smile fading with time was hurting him the most. He felt powerless in the moment, he didn't know what was happening.

They got married a few years ago, moved in a beautiful house nearby the sea and regularly went on vacation. He showered her with all of his love, dripping her with the finest silks and shiniest gemstones. He also planed the most original and romantic dates for her. Everything he did was for her. He wanted to give her the whole universe.

This afternoon, she texted him that she will be getting home later than usual to go on a walk by herself. She did not gave him any more indications but he knew it was because she was feeling down lately. At the announce, he hurried to plan a surprise romantic night at home to cheer her up. He called their chef in a hurry and politely asked her to cook homemade italian meal for tonight since she loved Italian cuisine. While the chef was cooking their dinner he rushed to her favorite florist and bought a beautiful bouquet of luscious ranunculus.

Once he finally got home he carefully set the table not forgetting to lay the tip of the newly bought bouquet of flowers in a glass filled with water to prevent the beautiful petals from tarnishing. Because she would be home in an hour or less he decided to prepare the bedroom for the upcoming massage he would give her. He covered the bed with a soft towels as he lit up the vanilla scented candles positioned in the corners of the room.

He truly wished what he had planned for her will make her feel better. In addition to this lovely night coming ahead he aimed at making her open up about her hidden struggles. He knew she was the type of person to keep everything inside, he wanted to create a safe environment for her to hopefully share her struggles with him.

It was 7:15pm when she got home, her face had a peaceful yet slightly sad expression. While slowly inhaling the comforting smell of her home, she closed her eyes before removing her bag and shoes.

–“I'm home.” She gently said, her voice resonating through the hallway.

At the sound of her voice, the gentleman grabbed the bouquet of Ranunculus and left their bedroom to head towards the hallway.

–“Good evening, how are you doing?” He gently asked, hiding the bouquet behind him.

–“I'm all right, thanks.” She answered while tenderly looking at him. “What are you hiding behind your back ?”

–“I have something planned for you this evening and this" He pulled out the flowers. "is the first thing on the list.”

Her eyes brightened as her lips former a smile of happiness. Her dainty fingers wrapped around the thoughtful present.

–“I love ranunculus, thank you so much.”

He tenderly grabbed her free hand before placing a loving kiss on her knuckles. He positioned himself behind her and placed his hands on her eyes.

–“You are now going to discover they next surprise. Do you have any idea of what it might be ?” He mischievously teased. He knew she loved enigmas so it was a great way to introduce the dinner. With a confident gesture, he guided her to their destination.

–“Because you are covering my eyes, I think that the next surprise is bigger than a flower bouquet and that you cannot move it around.” She guessed, leaving him speechless. "With the lack response from you, I think I am right. Maybe it is something that is set somewhere in the house like a themed decoration or a new furniture... We both already love the arrangements of the house so I don't think it is a new piece of furniture.” She add, still thinking about what it might be.

–“Almost there...” He gently chuckled before placing a little kiss on her head.

Her smile grew even bigger.

–“Thanks, I know. Anyways let's continue...” she took another moment to think. “Because we haven't eaten yet, you might have decorated the dinning room and thanks to the ranunculus I can confidently say that you've set up a romantic dinner. I think you decorated the dinning room with romantic arrangements!” She confidently declared.

He was in awe—In addition of being drop dead gorgeous she was also really smart.

–“What a brilliant mind you have, I am definitely lucky to be your husband!” He said, his words resonating through her.

–“Don't say this, I'm more than honored to have you . We are both lucky to have each other.”

–“My feelings doesn't take away from yours. Infact, I am just appreciating you darling.” He added as his hands left her closed lids before sliding down her arms to intertwined their fingers. "Let's get in, shall we?”

His thumb gently brushed her fingers, providing her with love but also comfort. He wanted to sooth her, to reassure her. Though he was a hurt by the secret she kept, he still wanted to make her happy.

–“Are you ready?” He said as an excited smiled formed on his lips before opening the door.

The dim lighting casted a yellow glow in the room as the candles laid on the table created a cozy feeling. A beautiful vase filled with water was set on the side of the round table besides a fancy bottle of water.

He gently took her bouquet off of her hands before removing its paper wrap.

–“Let's put those beauties in the vase, we don't want them to wilt.” He said as he delicately placed the flowers in the water.

Her hands reach for the chair in front of her but he politely stopped her.

–“It has been five years since we first got together and yet you still don't understand that I want to do those cliché it for you..." He gently chuckled as he pulled out the chair for her. “The chef will serve us the food in a few minutes. I can't wait to see your reaction.”

–“Since this is a surprise I won't try to guess what we are going to eat.” She chuckled.

After a few minutes spent talking about the latest news, the chef finally arrived with two delicious plates of homemade fresh lasagnas. She disposed the two plates in front of the couple before leaving the room.

–“I haven't eaten Italian food in a while.” She said while admiring the dish in front of her.

The chef regained the kitchen and left the two spouses alone. She reached for the fork in front of her to taste the meal. As she withdrew the cold silver fork from her mouth the ingredients laid on her sensitive tongue, their taste slowly diffusing through her mouth. She closed her eyes in delight as a whimper of delight escaped from her.

A gentle smile formed on his lips. He truly loved to see her appreciate the meal. His hand brushed for the stray strend of hair in front of her face. He then grabbed his fork to appreciate the dinner too, savouring his lasagnas.

–“Tell me, how was your day?” he asked as he poured her glass with water. Her flickering eyes didn't went unnoticed by him but he didn't pushed it any further.

–“It was refreshing... After work I went for a walk in a park nearby my workplace.” She puts her fork down to talk. "There was even yellow carnations. I've never saw yellow carnations this close and their smell was so delicate... Very lovely.” She picks up her fork. “How about yours?”

–“I woke up earlier today to work on a new thesis. The lab I'm collaborating with funds my researches and they let me borrow their high end tools.” He explained, looking in her eyes. “After you texted me that you were coming home later, I rushed to plan this surprise.”

–“Such a loving partner...” She chuckled. “Very thoughtful of you, thank you again.”

They talked about everything and anything, enjoying the homemade Italian meals as they exchange laughter, loving stares and warming smiles. The love between them couldn't just be felt—it could be seen and heard. They way they talked with so much respect to one another could melt the heart of the coldest person. His hand frequently resting on top of hers paired with her dainty foot lovingly caressing his legs spoke volume about the depth of their bound. Everything felt thoughtful yet natural between them.

–“Enjoyed this dinner?” He asked with a mischievous smile on his face.

–“I sure did ! I love Italian food, it's my favorite with indian food too.” She said before taking a sip of water.

–“I did too...” His flickered to his watch. “I think it is time for the third and last surprise.” He got up and handed her his hand. “Allow me to guide you.” As her hand took its place in his, he guided her from the dinning room to the door of their bedroom.

–“Can you guess what will happen next?“ He said with his low voice.

She raised her eyebrow, looking in emptiness as she gathered her thoughts.

–“Like for the dinner, the bedroom might be decorated... While we were eating you didn't make any allusion about intimacy and the ambiance wasn't steamy between us... It was more romantic.” She said as her eyes flickered between the doors and him. “But because the next surprise is in the bedroom it still includes some kind of physical proximity between us. You are the kind of person to primary show your love through actions too...” She took a significant pause. “I think I got it! Are you planning some kind of massage?” She said, her face taking a malicious expression.

A little laughter came out of his mouth as he affectionately looked at her.

–“Your sharp mind never disappoints, darling. You never fail to impress me, I am enamored with you.” He said before placing a loving kiss on her forehead. “Let's get in, shall we?” His hand latched onto the door handle.

The door opened, unleashing a delicate fragrance of vanilla as the candlelights animated the bedroom with life. She entered the room followed by her loyal husband before standing in front of the large bed.

She looked at the soft pillows, her lips slowly opened as if she tried to say something before suddenly closing. He looked at her with a confuse expression.

–“What's wrong, sweetie?” He murmured, taking her delicate hand in his.

–“...” She hesitated. “Nothing...” she answered, barely above a whisper.

He gulped down as a sharp feeling in his heart struck him. His jaw and eyebrows tensed while his tongue brushed across his lips. As her gentle eyes laid on his face he relaxed a bit.

–“Anything wrong?” She asked, her silky voice soothed his fragile heart.

–“It's fine... I'm alright.” He said as a sly feeling of guilt took over him.

–“Since you are offering me a massage I guess I should remove my dress. Can you unzip it for me please?“

He executed her orders, carefully unzipping her dress as his fingers lingered on the soft skin of her back. Her black dress fell all the way down to her ankles. She slowly laid down on her stomach before gently closing her eyes. The sight of her, so vulnerable yet unaccessible made his heart flutter. He took a deep breath before grabbing the bottle of almond oil.

–“You once told me that you loved the smell of almond oil so I decided to use it as an oil massage...” He said as he poured a good amount on the valley of her back.

With his bare warm hands he lather the oil from her shoulders to the small of her back in a linear motion. Gliding his palms on the bare surface before firmly yet gently gripping her tight shoulders before carefully massaging them.

–“You are really tense up here. Relax, I've got you...“ He said as he liberated the tension nestled in her shoulders.

–“Keep going please...“ She satisfactly whined before humming the sweet perfum of the vanilla scented candles.

While his hands went from her shoulders to the middle of his back she slowly opened here eyes, looking at the wall in front of her. She felt like the burden she was carrying within herself was consuming her from the inside out. It needed to be shared. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes again.

–“It feels so good... You hands work wonders on my back...” She muttered.

He faintly chuckled before pressing an affectionate kiss on the back to her neck

–“Its good to know. I like to make you feel good.” He whispered as his warm breath caressed the back of her neck.

–“You are such an angel, I'm so grateful to have you in my life.”

With his skilled hands, he applied more pressure on a tight knot nestled on her left shoulder blade.

–“Is your work stressing you out like that?” He asked, slightly worried for her. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Her heart tightened as small tears formed in her eyes. She gently shut her lids before biting her lips. She knew she shouldn't keep secrets like this one for herself. She took a deep breath before talking.

–“No, it's not...” He noticed the sudden change in her demeanor.

–“Would you like to tell me what it is?” His hands massaged her back more delicatly as he could feel the slight feeling of fear rushing throw his body.

–“I don't know how to bring this up...” She said before hiding her face from him.

He placed a tender kiss on her head before caressing the slop of her arm.

–“I'm here for you... Don't worry, I will always stick by your side.”

She bit her lips as she restrained her tears from flooding the white cotton sheets.

–“Well... Last week I went on my yearly medical check up. I talked about my health and my lifestyle habits with me doctor and I told her that during this past month I've felt very fatigued. So we did a blood test...” She took a pause as she felt a tear streaming down her eye.

He started to caressed her head in a soothing manner.

–“It's okay, take your time...“ He calmly whispered despite his worry growing more intense.

–“While waiting for the results she talked more in details about the blood test. It was suppose to measure my hormon level because she suspected that I just had a hormonal imbalance. I didn't thought much of it and... When she came back with the results... She told me that I was pregnant...”

His heart skipped a beat.

–“I am pregnant...” She said as she crumble in tears.

He stopped caressing her head for a few seconds before firmly embracing her. Neither of them knew what to do. He then proceeded to gently rub her back as he closed his eyes.

–“No matter what you decide, I will support you... We are in this together.“

–“I don't know if I want this baby...“ She mumbled as she wiped her tears.

–“That's fine, love...” He continued his gentle caresses as his vibrating voice soothed her. “Do you know of how many weeks you are pregnant?“

–“Right now... I am six weeks pregnant.” She said before crying again. “I have to hurry up to decide what I want to do...”

His hands instinctively caressed her hair.

–“You don't have to decide right now we still have a month... I just want you to know that we are in this together, you are not alone. No matter what you do, I promise and swear to accept and support decisions. It is your body, so nobody else should decide what is best for you, not even me. You are strong, clever but most importantly you are loved.”

[imkissingjj]

JJ + SINGLE MOM!READER

AHHHHH, i love this so much 🤧

single mom who has a four year old girl named willow, the light of her life. her and willow, abandoned by the father while she was pregnant, living in a small, beat up home in the cut after being kicked out by her parents. since she had willow, she's had to put off relationships and her passions, in order to focus on her daughter, but this all changed when she met jj.

single mom meets jj out on the beach after willow stumbles into him when chasing flocks of birds. "sorry blondie, you were in the way of the pigeons.."

jj chuckles, looking back towards john b and pope who give him shrugs. "you out here alone track star?"

"umm noooo, my mommy's right there," she points directly to the sun kissed woman, snapping pictures with her digital camera in the distance. single mom loves photography, the only way she feels she can hold onto passing moments, moments she wants to remember.

she pads over to willow, soft feet leaving prints in the sand. "flower, we don't chase the birds, we feed them," she spoke, grinning as she dusted off willow's little outfit and willow giving a soft 'hmph'. her eyes look up, staring directly into jj's soft blue ones. "sorry, she lacks direction sometimes."

he grins. "nothin wrong with bein' a little reckless..."

single mom is a bit slow to warm up, a complete contrast to jj once he begins to show up more. even if he originally just wanted to be closer to her, he begins showing up for willow just as much—swimming lessons that turn into surf lessons, beach-combing for shells, taking her to school when mom can't, which he says is out of the kindness of his heart, when really he thinks doing more favors will get him a permanent spot in her life.

"mommyyy, blondie's here again!"

"flower, he's got a name..." she spoke, looking over towards the front door with a soft grin.

"is he your new boyfriend?"

"flower!"

jj smirked, stepping inside. "not yet, but soon."

someway, somehow, jj had convinced her to leave willow with the pogues while he took her on a date—clearly the best option considering they were so excited to play family, john b calling himself the "favorite uncle."

yet, jj aimed for an even better title than uncle—he wanted to be stepdad, no matter how long he had to wait, or how hard he had to try.

the first time they fuck, jj took her on a beach picnic. greasy shrimp tacos, a large blanket in the sand with low music playing, going a few rounds before cuddling under the stars.

jj grinned slyly, kissing her temple. "think we've made baby number two?"

slapping his chest playfully, she giggles. "jj! willow's already a handful, i can barely handle her, let alone another baby. besides, you're just like a big toddler."

"hey, im your big toddler...but, i can wait. i'll be papa j in no time. i'll settle for boyfriend right now."

[lieslab]

Lane seven is for losers (and lovers)

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Seungmin X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend promises not to cheat at bowling, but all he tells is lies.

Genre: Crackfic

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: I believe in Kim Seungmin cheating (at games) supremacy. This was supposed to be fluff, but it fits far more under the crackfic terminology. Long live Seungmin's cheating spree <3

_ _ _

“Whatever you do, you’re not allowed to cheat tonight.” 

“Cheat?” Seungmin glanced up from his bowling ball. “How would I cheat at bowling?” 

You narrowed your eyes, causing a smirk to quip up on his face. He shrugged innocently, but you knew better. “Don’t play with me, I know how you work.” 

“I’d never dream of cheating on my significant other, especially not when it comes to bowling.” 

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” 

“Don’t believe me?” 

“Never. Deception lies behind those puppy eyes of yours. I’m onto you and I’d never let you get away with such a thing.” 

“I don’t expect you to.” A glimmer of something sparkled in his eyes, causing your face to fall slightly. Before you could speak, he smiled and went back to shining the orange bowling ball in his lap.

He was planning something and there was nothing you could do, besides sit and wait for it to happen. 

~ ~ ~ 

Lane seven, you had a good feeling about it. You spent two weeks planning the perfect little date. Tucked away in the back corner of town, you drove the two of you to the smaller building. It wasn’t huge and there were only a handful of other people around the building. 

Down at the opposite end of the lanes, an older gentleman and his wife were in a pair of plum purple polos and jeans. White bowling shoes sat on their feet and they took turns rolling their balls down the lane. You assumed they were waiting on others. They must have had a bowling league, or maybe they came here from a distant game. 

Whatever the case, you caught wind of their laughter. You couldn’t stop glancing over in their direction. You enjoyed their playful bickering and teasing. In your own pair of borrowed bowling shoes, you waited for Seungmin to wipe down his bowling ball. You never understood the importance of it, but Seungmin insisted it was key to winning the game. 

He originally sat with the ball in his lap. One hand steadied the side and with a maroon cloth, he wiped small circles around and around the top and opposite side. Just when you thought he’d finished, he placed it back in the return machine beside yours. 

He pushed on it, rolling it upside down, and started to wipe it down again. All you could do was roll your eyes and wait for him to finish. “Just like Changbin taught me,” he explained. You didn’t listen to him talk about the specifics of the game. 

Honestly, you really didn’t care about all the specifics. In your head, all you had to do was roll the ball down the lane and knock over pins. The automatic screen above your heads would keep track of the score. All you needed to do was knock down more pins. It should be easy and relatively simple. 

“Okay,” Seungmin finally stood up, “I’m ready to start. Go ahead and go first.” 

You turned your back on the elderly couple and headed for your bowling ball. “Are you ready to lose Kim Seungmin?” 

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead and give it your best shot, hot shot.” 

“Thank you, I will.” You stuck your fingers in the lime green holes and started towards the lane. Ten pins faced you and waited for impact. You twisted your hips, sucked in a deep breath, and pulled back your arm. 

Behind you, Seungmin watched in silence. His eyes scanned your body with a silent amusement. So set on winning this thing, you had no idea what kind of ideas he had up his sleeve. 

A loud thud and a steady rumble. Your ball rolled over and over and over again. Gliding smoothly beneath the overhead warm yellow lights. Just before hitting the pins, it started to venture to the left of your aim. “No, no, no, no!” 

Seungmin laughed and pins clattered. Two out of ten. Your head jerked around, he pointed and laughed at you. As the machine whirled and cleared away the dropped pins, your ball popped back out next to his. With a huff, you headed over and grabbed it. “I’m going to get a strike this time.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Childishly, your tongue stuck out at him. You didn’t see him imitate your stance. Instead, you swung your arm back and let the ball rip again. It rushed down the lane, too fast and too curved. Over and over and then- 

“Oh, gutter!” Seungmin taunted behind you. “Gutter ball! Gutter ball! You got a gutter ball!”  

“This is all your fault.” 

“What did I do?” 

“You’re a distraction!” 

“Me?” He glanced down at his t-shirt and sweatpants. “Yeah, sure. Just admit you’re a bad bowler and take the L.” 

“Suck my-” 

“Woah!” He held up his hand to stop you. “It’s only the first round and we still have so many to go. If you have issues, take it up with the pins, the machine, or your ball. Maybe just take it up with yourself in the mirror and your lack of pro skills.” 

“Oh, yeah? Like you could do much better.”

“Watch me because I will.” 

So you did. Angrily, with your arms crossed over your chest. Your nostrils flared and you huffed. Seungmin vowed to be better and he was. He shifted himself more to the side and threw the ball harder. You watched, trying to memorize how he stepped into the throw. 

The ball’s constant whirling ended with a loud crash. His hands formed into fists and he cheered. “Yeah! Strike! I told you!” He spun around to face you, but he was met with your eye rolling.

“You’re not going to win this,” you said. 

“Watch me.” 

What was supposed to be just an ordinary game turned into something far more entertaining than you ever expected. 

~ ~ ~ 

You didn’t recognize the first time Seungmin cheated. Too busy swept up in the chatter and laughter coming from a group of rowdy incoming teenage boys, you missed him taking steps onto the bowling lane and launching the ball closer to the fresh placed pins. He jerked backwards before the ball impacted, hurrying back towards your side, as if the cheating had never happened. 

At the sound of a loud clatter and call of another strike, you glanced over. “What? Already? How’d that happen?” 

He shrugged, “I guess I’m just that good.” 

Your head tipped back to find the screen. So far, Seungmin had three strikes and was in the lead. You? You, on the other hand, you weren’t doing so great. Maybe that microfiber cloth really did hold the secret to winning, but you didn’t ask if you could borrow it. No way. 

You’d triumph and go forth. You grabbed your ball and headed back down the lane, determined to gain your first strike. Seungmin sat back at the booth by the ball return machine. He picked up his sweet tea, saturated with condensation, and slowly sipped. 

You mimicked his movements and let your ball go. A quiet prayer fell beneath your breath, but it fell upon deaf ears. The ball shifted and slammed hard into the gutter. 

Seungmin chuckled and took another sip. “Hey!” He called out. You spun around, wondering what he wanted. “I think you missed the pins a little.” 

“Shut up!” 

He raised his hands in defeat and watched you come back to retrieve your ball. A few lanes away, the group of teenage boys discussed strategies and ways to gain points. Your eyes went over a few times, but Seungmin’s focus stayed on you. As much as you hated to admit it, the added noise caused you to lose focus. 

It was one thing to see the elderly couple. They were on the other side, their voices were softer. You only picked up snippets of their words, but with a group of nearly six teenagers, if one wasn’t loud, another was. It shook your focus and made concentrating feel extra difficult. 

“Are you going to get a strike this time?” 

You shrugged and went back to the lane. A head held tall and spine straightened. Your arm reached back, you stepped into your throw and- 

“WOO!” 

Right as you threw the ball, your hand shifted. The ball curved and didn’t even make it a fourth of the way down the lane before it slammed the gutter again. You jerked to the side, expecting to see one of the teens pointing and laughing at you. Chaos ran through their veins, but none of them looked your way. 

“Oh, yoo-hoo!” Seungmin called out. You spun to find him grinning ear-to-ear and waving his hand above his head. “What a shame. Another gutter ball. I guess that means it’s my turn now. Sit down and let me show you how it’s done.” 

“Did you just-” 

“What?” 

“Kim Seungmin, did you just cheat?” 

“Can a man not be excited for his date’s bowling session?” 

“You totally just cheated!” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“You yelled!” 

“You should learn how to tune out noise.” He grabbed his ball and headed to the spot you were in. 

You sputtered, trying to push out words, but none came. Not a single word could defeat him. You should have known from the start, even when it came to bowling, Seungmin was going to find a way to cheat. 

He hummed, stepped up to the edge of the bowling lane, shimmied his body, almost mockingly, and let the ball fly. When it hit the gutter, you jerked upright pointing at him. “HA! Take that! How does it feel now?” 

“Feels like a victory, considering I’m still winning.” 

He didn’t show any signs of distress. Taking his time and coming back to you, he pulled out the microfiber cloth and took it to his ball once more. The entire nonchalant scene pissed you off far more than you’d like to admit. 

He posed again, but before he let the ball go, he dropped to all fours. You blinked, trying to understand what he was doing. Your head cocked, but you remained rooted in your spot. He crawled further down the lane, laid down, and shoved his ball. 

When all ten pins flew down and scattered around the edge of the lane, you stared at him in shock. Not because of the strike, but because you couldn’t believe he had the audacity to cheat so openly. He didn’t regret it either. He practically skipped back to your side beaming. 

“Did you see that?” 

“You asshole.” 

“You’re a sore loser,” he continued. “I’m doing my part as an honorable bowling player and-” 

“Honorable my ass and you should be disqualified.” 

“Someone’s feeling defensive because I’ve already won the game. We only have a few rounds left and even if you gained strikes with each turn, you’d never catch up to me. I’m simply adding my own form of entertainment.” 

You glared at him and scowled. As much as you hated his reasoning, he had a point. You were defeated and there was no way you could catch up. Your arms crossed over your chest and you dropped into your seat with a huff. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. If you want to, I’ll let you cheat for your last few turns.” 

“How many times have you been cheating during this game?” 

“Uh…” He grimaced and shrugged. “A few.”

“I think we have varying views of ‘a few.’” 

He gestured back to the lane, waiting for you to take your turn. Just because you could, you leaned over, grabbed his sweet tea, and took a large swallow of it. He groaned, came over, and pulled it away from you. 

“Hey, cheating is one thing. You spreading your cooties is entirely different. Come on, loser, I’m going to show you how to properly aim and throw your ball.” 

“I don’t have cooties.” 

He laced one hand through yours and tugged you to the ball return with the other. His fingers stuck into your ball and the moment he tried to pick it up, it slammed back into the metal rack with a large clatter. His eyes widened and he jerked around to look at you. “Babe!” 

“What?” 

“Oh my god, this entire time I’ve thought you sucked at bowling. No wonder you can’t score properly!”

“Huh?” 

“Your ball practically weighs a thousand pounds! What size ball did you pick up?” 

“What do you mean what size? I just picked up the color I was drawn to. I like the lime green, it’s pretty.” 

He busted into a laugh and reached up and slammed a hand over his mouth. He spun around, turning away from you, and dropped to his knees. You stared at him feeling confused, until a voice came from behind you. 

“Are you feeling alright, son?” 

Behind you, the older couple from earlier appeared. The older man’s eyes met yours. Honeydew eyes, worn wrinkles, and thin lips. His wife lingered behind him, digging through her purse with bright red polished fingernails. “Does he feel okay? I have some anti-nausea medication in here.” 

“Oh, I don’t think-” 

Seungmin’s head popped up. He spun around with a red face. A smile broke out as he laughed again. “No need, I’m okay. My significant other here hasn’t been scoring very well and I just realized they grabbed a ball with a heavier weight. This whole time, I thought they were terrible at bowling.” 

“Oh, dear,” the woman uttered. Her hand went up, trying to hide her faint smile. 

The man laughed, reached out, and patted you on the shoulder. “You must be new to bowling. Eh, that’s okay. My wife and I weren’t good when we started out, either. If you need some pointers, we’d be happy to assist you.” 

Embarrassed and mortified, you found the courage to nod. You’d need all the help you were going to get if you planned to beat Seungmin, but if the ball was lighter, it’d be helpful if it was easier to roll. Seungmin offered his ball and the couple spent nearly a half hour teaching you everything you needed to know. 

It was safe to say that bowling was a hell of a lot easier when you knew what you were doing. 

~ ~ ~ 

“One more round! Please, Seungmin? One more round and then we can go.” 

“But you’ve already lost and I’m out of sweet tea.”

“I know, but I’m feeling a strike. I’ll buy you another sweet tea before we go. One more and I’ll let you have your win in peace.” 

He sighed, but gestured to the lane. “Okay, go ahead. It’s all yours, but seriously, this has to be the last one. People are really starting to fill this place up.” 

You took your aim and the helpful pointers from the older couple came back. Apparently, they took up bowling after retirement and found so much enjoyment in it, they joined a local league. The thought briefly crossed your mind as your eyes met Seungmin’s while they taught you how to stand properly. 

Would you two be like them some day? When your natural hair faded and skin began to sag? Would you still be able to find the energy to go out and swing around a bowling ball, despite your body wearing down with age? You hoped so. 

A final time, you brought the ball back. Your eyes laid on the single pin in the middle of the lane. Every muscle relaxed and your heart steadily pounded against your ribs. You held your gaze, letting your eyes keep hold of your aim. You started to throw and- 

The brush of gentle fingertips along the sides of your ribs caused you to gasp. Your arm jerked and the ball dropped. Seungmin laughed, but it was cut short when you screamed in pain. The ball landed on top of your foot. 

Something cracked and your leg gave out. The noise around you halted and Seungmin’s eyes widened. He called your name as you stumbled, reaching out to catch you. You barely caught his hands before you hit the ground. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I thought it’d cause you to get another gutter ball. I-I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the throbbing in your foot. Your skin pulsed against the tightened black laces. “Forget the sweet tea, you owe me a trip to urgent care.” 

“With pleasure.” 

He echoed apologies non-stop as he helped you hobble out of the bowling alley. He offered to give you a piggy-back ride, but you refused. A few staff members tried to check on you, one offered to call for an ambulance, but you were stubborn. Headstrong and nearly as determined as he was. 

“It hurts,” you mumbled when you got to the car. 

“Yeah, no shit. You dropped a heavy bowling ball straight onto your foot.” 

“It’s all your fault.” 

“I said I was sorry! How can I make it better after urgent care?” 

“You spend the next few days helping me without complaining.” 

“Fine.” 

“And no more cheating!”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Even with a broken foot, you really know how to push my buttons.” 

“Kim Seungmin!” 

“Fine! No more cheating! I’ll stop!” 

“Thank fuck.” 

You slipped into the car, having to rely on him for help. You were quiet most of the drive. You could only focus on the sharp pain each time you moved your foot. It ached, no matter how you tried to angle it and it wouldn’t stop. The throb jerked upright into the front of your leg. 

No matter what happened next, you just hoped the pain would be kept to a minimum. 

~ ~ ~ 

A few hours later and with the help of Seungmin, you slipped onto your couch with a sigh. A velcro boot sat snug around your foot. Still swollen and in pain, you were told to elevate it. If needed to, you could take off the boot and ice the area. 

“What do you need me to do?” Seungmin asked. He didn’t say it out loud, but there was worry in his eyes. Ever since his actions caused the injury, he’d been internally beating himself up about it. “I can get a pillow for your leg.” 

Your head shook and you shifted upright. “I need you to come sit behind me. I’ll worry about that later. Right now, I just want to be close to you.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you again.” 

“Please?” 

He approached you cautiously and slipped behind you. After he sat, you slipped back and curled onto his lap. Like usual, his arms wrapped around you and provided comfort. You leaned over, letting the side of your face fall against his chest. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Are you crazy? You should be yelling at me. I fractured your foot!” 

“I don’t care about that at the moment.” 

“Huh?” 

“You heard me. Don’t let it go to your head, but I had fun, even if you were cheating. It did provide high quality entertainment.” 

“But I hurt you.” 

“And I’ll heal.” 

He reached up and pushed your hair away from your ear. “You really know how to give a guy a heart attack. We can never go back there. Everyone stared at me like I murdered you. It’s going to be the next trending Dispatch article.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“I can see it now. Kim Seungmin tries to kill his significant other. On Friday evening-” 

You laughed and his heart skipped a beat. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your temple. “The next time I cheat, I’ll try to make sure I don’t injure you in the process.” 

“I appreciate that.” 

“So… should I get that pillow for you now?” 

“Sorry, bubs. You’re stuck being my pillow for the rest of the night.” You hunkered down, enjoying being close to him. “When I’m ready to get up and use the bathroom, I’ll let you know.” 

“I can’t believe I love you.” 

“I can’t believe you broke my foot.” 

“I said I was sorry!” 

You’d never be able to stop teasing him and for the rest of your lives, you’d be telling the story; even at your future bowling league, you’d recount how the love of your life broke your foot while trying to cheat at bowling.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz @ari-hwanggg @m-325 @justcallmewhatyoulike @bokkiesluv

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[secretagentdragon]

Palestinian blogs who have reached out to me to share their campaigns (current as of 2024/09/29, check original post for most up to date version - post 1/3):

Part 2 here! / Part 3 here!

@ahmad-syam-blog / Help Ahmed Jehad and his newborn survive! / post / verified on the bees and watermelons list : $5,612/$40,000 LOW

@jody-family / Help jody and her family evacuate from Gaza / post / new fundraiser but vouched for by a vetted fundraiser : £11,035/£20,000

@mahmoud-1995 / Help this family evacuate from gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost : 15,595 USD/50,000 USD

@hanaa-yousef / Evacuate Yousef and his family from Gaza / post / verified on the spreadsheet by @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein :£17,723/£20,000

@misk2020 (@shadowyavenuetaco / @mahergaza) / Your donation today, new hope tomorrow - Emergency support / post / new campaign, aiming to be vetted : £5,010/£50,000 LOW

@mohiy-gaza / Support Mohi's Fight for Survival in Gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost : $6,549/$63,000 *(updated goal due to medical emergencies)

@falestine-yousef / Help Palestine and Family Survive the Gaza Crisis / post / verified on the spreadsheet by @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein : $25,145/$40,000

@abdelmutei / Help us for the sake of God / post / verified by @/90-ghost : €13,487/€25,000

@maria-abood / Help Abood From the War / post / new but vouched for by a vetted fundraiser : 9,795 USD/40,000 USD LOW

@aseelo680 / Support Aseeel Fight for Life and Family in Gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost : 37,232 USD/50,000 USD *(updated goal)

@lina-gaza (was @azaxa) / Support Family escape from rafah to save place / post / vouched for by a vetted fundraiser : €42,804/€60,000 *(updated goal)

@mahmoudayyad / Urgent aid ! Help to fight starvation for an extended family / post / verified by @/90-ghost : €6,432/€100,000 LOW

@asmaamajed2 (@asmaamajed) / Help Asmaa to continue school outside of gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost: 10,250 USD/50,000 USD LOW

@motaaz37 / Defend my brother's family from genocide in gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost: kr74,391/kr250,000 (1 kr = 0.1 USD = 0.13 CAD) LOW

@musababed / Help Musab and his family,my pets survive this war in Gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost : £6,628/£18,000 *(updated goal)

@eslamfamily / Help Eslam Save Her Family / post / verified on the bees and watermelons list :11,425 USD/50,000 USD

@himaa12345 / Help Shaima's family get out of Gaza / post / unvetted but reverse image search is clear: €2,992/€50,000 EXTREMELY LOW

@dinamahammed99 / Help me save my children from death in the Gaza war / post / vetted by association: 6,654 USD/15,000 USD

@rehamyasirr + @sabrinaaxm / Help nurse Reham &family soufi of Palestine from Gaza City, / post / verified by @/90-ghost: 4,938AUD/40,000 AUD LOW

@mayadayyad81 / Help little children of Gaza stay safe and alive! / post / verified by @/nabulsi: 42,679 USD/50,000 USD CLOSE TO GOAL!

@mohamedsmeer34 / Help me in completing my medical studies please / post / unvetted but seems legit, mohamed has an active instagram from 2017: 1,803 AUD/45,000 AUD *goal increased as the rest of his family is now included, LOW

@wafaaresh6 / Support Wafa's Fight for Safety and Health / post / verified by @/90-ghost: $29,417 USD/50,000 USD

@yasermohammad / Help my Uncel’s family , BE THE CHANGE / post / verified by @/90-ghost: €24,298/€35,000

@ahmedhelllis / Helping the Helles family achieve a better future / post / verified by @/90-ghost: €18,819/€80,000 LOW

@lamahourani7 / Helping Lama & Mohammed to evacuate from Gaza / post / verified by association: 3,730 USD/10,000 USD

@noorabd-1992 / Help Nour and his family escape from the war in Gaza / post / verified by @/90-ghost and association: 19,345 USD/$45,000 USD

@majedgaza1 / Rebuilding Hope: A Gaza Family in Need of Your Help / post / vetted: 6,232 USD/70,000 USD LOW

@shamfarhat1 / Save Dr. Farhat's family from genocide in Gaza / post / verified on the spreadsheet by @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein: 10,299 USD/29,500 USD

@familygazaamal / Support Amal's Family in War-Torn Gaza Escape to Egypt / post /unverified but appears legit: 1,809 USD/30,000 USD LOW

[possesseddesiress]

Switch Up: Logan's Revenge

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Switch Up: Logan's Revenge (English Version)

Part One: First Level

Part Two: Logan's Revenge

Part Three: Ethan's Relief

Part Four: Miles' Ambition

Part Five: Conclusions

— Fuck it, give it to me.

I muttered taking the control from his hand, examining it for a second.

— Be careful, don't take it so hard, Logan - Miles said somewhat nervously, although he was right, the controller was like the greatest invention of the 21st century.

But I was excited. I hadn't said anything about having been in Ethan's body, but geez! If I hadn't taken my clothes off at the time it had been out of mere respect for my friend. But I clearly wanted to see what it was like to have a thin chest, or a slender body. I had always wanted to be different, far from… The typical stereotype of a nerdy boy: fat, pimply-faced, unattractive.

I wanted more, too. Just like Ethan had said, I wished I had more than this.

— What are you going to do now? - Ethan said a little nervously.

— Hunt… As Miles said.

Everyone thought it was strange that he chose Caleb. They were right that he was obnoxious, and that was exactly why he had become my target. I was sick of his laughs, his mocking comments about my weight, once he had even burped in my face.

I knew he was an idiot, a lout, who hardly wore deodorant and used his brain to the bare minimum. I knew there were better bodies, but I wanted revenge.

— And you need help? Ethan was always the one who cared the most about others, with a warm personality and a big heart. I was a little more reserved, quiet and barely peeking out of the comics, Miles? Well, he was Miles.

— No. But one thing I rarely showed my friends, was the dark side of me. An extremely vindictive and spiteful side that was willing to do anything to see Caleb Hawks pay.

— Logan, are you sure you're…?

— Miles, how do I use it?

— Just point the antenna where you want the first body to be, then press the yellow button. At the end, point it at the second body, green button, and that's it.

— And what happens if he notices the change? Miles was thoughtful.

— There is a function but it's not finished yet, I would have to….

— Give me safe options.

— Tackle it. I swallowed.

Partly I knew it was a very bad idea all around. Going alone, aiming a controller at my bully, hoping he wouldn't hit me first. I thought about asking them for help, whether it was both of them or anyone else, Ethan could stay in the shadows and just be in charge of pointing and pressing buttons.

But I wanted to do things that only my company could authorize.

— And what will happen to the control?

— The controller will stay in your original body's hand, I doubt he'll figure out how it works, but you should get it back as soon as possible.

I nodded, as if mentally going over the steps to complete the “mission”.

— Right. I turned immediately, leaving the library to start walking through the rest of the high school.

I had no idea where Caleb could be, classes? In practice? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Yes, he was my stalker; but he always seemed to have a knack for finding me.

I decided to head out to the gym, there were hardly any people in that area at that hour, everyone else was in class I guess. I heard the sound of weights, the snorts of someone, and finally… I was there.

Caleb was lifting a weight, flexing his arms with a frown, there was sweat all over his body. He was concentrating on his exercises until he could see me through the reflection in the mirror.

— There you are, buttery! - he dropped the weights, with his usual stupid expression, that smug smile - What are you doing here, are you finally thinking of stopping being this heavy?

My hand was shaking as I watched him get closer and closer. Rage boiled through my body. I quickly pointed at his body to press the yellow button, to which he smiled a confused, mostly mocking smile.

— Is that one of your nerdy tastes? I clenched my jaw, he was getting closer, slow but steady. He was nothing short of lunging for it.

He stayed still. But I knew it was just a trap, he immediately rushed at me but I quickly turned the control towards me, aimed and pressed the green button.

From one moment to the next, I looked at my old body. And I couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. My old face formed a confused expression of Caleb's own, and before I could do anything, I snatched the controller away from him.

— What the fuck? He looked down at his new fat hands. To which I immediately ran with the control to the locker room.

I felt powerful. No, powerful was not powerful enough, I felt great! With my new strong legs I strided forward until I ended up at the bathroom door, and immediately whipped it shut to lock it.

I turned to the mirror, to find myself directly in front of Caleb's reflection, or rather: My new reflection.

Moments ago he only trained with a cap and pants, he was always careless with those things. Wearing any clothes to train, always leaving everything impregnated with his stench.

I froze for a moment, until a smug smile formed on my face. I lifted my armpit to start smelling my new scent, smiling at it; totally ecstatic about it.

I stroked my abs, letting out a giggle as I didn't feel my old belly, just a firm set of muscles. I kept hearing Caleb knocking on the door like crazy, but that was what mattered least.

My hands went to my pecs, and as soon as I caressed the relief on them, it was like seeing stars. An expression between confusion and ecstasy formed on my face, to which I went back to touching that area again and again. A silly, almost idiotic gesture, somewhat typical of the old Caleb appeared on me.

But what was better was feeling what Caleb was hiding in his pants! I could feel the stiffness, how it grew to bulge and stick uncomfortably against his pants, begging to be released.

I pulled out his phone, unlocked it with his fingerprint, starting to take pictures of me in different poses and faces. Some in profile, showing off his abs or highlighting his pecs, others with a mocking expression, or a serious one.

But what I loved the most, was sticking out my tongue, rolling my eyes and making him look even dumber than he already was. I had Caleb's fate in the palm of my hand! I could ruin his reputation as much as I wanted, drive myself crazy with power - anything!

But then he came knocking on the door again, and I didn't just want him to see from afar everything I was willing to commit, no. I wanted him to experience it in the flesh. I wanted him to experience it in the flesh.

I hid the control in a part of the bathroom sink, and opened the door to pull him inside with some force. My old body was undoubtedly a bit heavy, but even that wouldn't stop me now.

— What the hell did you do! - Caleb jerked like a worm on my arm, but I still didn't release my grip.

— Isn't it obvious, buttery? - I made sure to put extreme emphasis on that last word, I wanted to break it.

— Don't call me that, bitch! You don't know what I'm capable of doing!

— What would you be capable of doing, Logan - I tightened my grip on my old video game t-shirt - Because I remind you that that's your name now, you're Logan, and I'm Caleb Hawks.

His eyes conveyed terror, denying.

— N-no!

— Yes - I smiled with pure malice - But don't worry, I think I've had enough of annoying you like I used to, I think I've come up with a much better way to use you.

I grabbed him by the hair forcefully, lifted my armpit and suddenly pressed him against it. The former Caleb let out a whimper, and again tried to escape, but no. I would make him pay, hundreds and hundreds of days of him teasing me would not be forgotten.

I rubbed his nose up and down against my wet, smelly skin, my hand gripping the back of his neck. For a while he struggled until he seemed to slowly give up.

All you could hear were his gasps, his gasping breaths, and how he began to lick.

— Geez, looks like someone's hungry! He didn't respond, just swallowed saliva before plunging his face back into my new sweaty, stinky armpit.

I smiled contentedly, playing with him for a while. It was beyond gratifying to have him in the palm of my hand, in control of every single thing I did.

— You love it, don't you? - He was on his knees, his face flushed as he gasped for air, a couple of strands of saliva escaping his lips as my new masculinity was in the air - You love that this body is now in the hands of someone who deserves it, don't you?

It was as if his brain was mush, he barely nodded before I grabbed him by the back of the neck to get him to attend to me again.

We were in the dressing room for at least two hours, until he ended up with squirts and squirts of frothy stuff in his mouth. Apparently Caleb had buckets and buckets of nectar in his nuts too!

— Who are you now? - I grabbed him by the hair hard, which made him gasp. The image was more than satisfying, messy, full of sticky white goo, his face flushed.

— M-my name is L-Logan….

I smiled.

— Good thing that was clear, buttery.

I blurted out. I put on a denim jacket that he previously wore, and again pulled out my phone to take pictures of myself, revealing my new body.

It felt amazing, switching with Ethan had been just a stepping stone to the whole ladder of pleasure being Caleb was giving me. I kicked off my shoe, pulling my foot up against the sink to take a new picture.

Strangely… in my old body I'd never had that “taste” for feet before, it seemed a bit odd, but now… I couldn't take my eyes off my foot. I got as close as I could to sniff it, and it was like glory... I smelled again, noticing scents where I didn't notice them before, and feeling a great interest in my own scent.

How my armpits stank, or my balls. The smell of my feet… My whole body, in fact, was like an elixir. I'd never felt anything like it before, really. I had never smelled anything so… perfect.

Then I understood. Caleb had hyperosemia; a disorder that made him smell scents even stronger than they were. He was so obsessed with his bad smell because it smelled good to him.

— So that was your secret, that you smell so good to you, you don't care if others are disgusted? - I smiled, smelling my armpit again - Now I get it…. I smell so good.

He just looked at me like a hypnotized puppy, to which I just smiled.

— I think I've had enough fun with you. But I'm bored now, so I'll see you around, loser.

I let out a laugh to leave the locker room, but not before picking up the controller. I started to walk through the halls of the school, it was just a change of classes, so the halls were quite crowded.

I lifted my chin, stuck out my chest and strode forward with confidence. I didn't mind not wearing a t-shirt, I reeked of sweat, I could even smell that whitish liquid I had poured in droves on “Logan”, I smelled like glory. I was amazing!

I ended up making it to the library. I thought my friends would be gone, but there they were, Ethan was lying on the table, apparently fed up; Miles was still making notes.

I moved towards them, they didn't even see me coming when I grabbed Miles from behind to grab his hair. How Caleb used to annoy all the nerds at school.

— Let me go! - He tried to move while I just smiled. Ethan woke up in anguish as he looked at us.

— What's up, nerds? Your fat friend wanted to do something weird to me with a contraption of his, what did they have in mind trying to do something like that to me?

Ethan's expression turned almost terrified. To which I ended up letting out a laugh, I loosened my grip on Miles to pull out the controller.

— You should have seen their faces. I sat down in a nearby chair, placing my hands behind my neck and leaning back.

— Logan?…. - Ethan muttered in confusion. Miles just coughed as he glared at me.

— No, now tell me Caleb - I said as I smiled a self-centered smile again. I looked down at the table, picking up one of my comics to flip through it. I wanted to make sure I still had my taste in comics, and I did. I leafed through it for a while waiting for a response, though there was only silence - Won't you say anything?

— How does it feel? - Miles was the first to speak. He rushed quickly towards me, ready to ask hundreds of questions - How was it, where is the old Caleb?

— It feels amazing - I stroked my chest arrogantly, then flexed my arm in front of them to widen my bicep. Finally I reached up to my armpit to lick it - It's feeling a myriad of new experiences, and about the new Logan… I hope they don't find him in the locker room or his reputation will be buried forever.

I laughed deeply. Miles and Ethan just looked at me with admiration, though I knew part of it was also with desire, to which I flexed both arms to widen my chest and big arms.

— I'm like a superhero, aren't I? - There was silence again, just staring at me in rapt attention - Come on, guys. Stop drooling and better find out who we can play with.

I pointed to the control in the middle of the table, to which they got up in a hurry to almost run out of the library. I was left alone with a smirk on my face.

I got up just the same. To walk to the bathroom, I still hadn't finished exploring this whole body…

I went into the bathroom to start taking off what I had on, only being left in my boxers. I loved how the fabric clung to Caleb's chubby muscular legs, all his effort was now mine.

His muscles, his stench, his clothes, his phone. Everything, everything was mine and mine alone.

I pulled out my phone to take pictures of myself again, soon they would be all over his social media.

His Instagram feed would soon be full of shirtless guys, goodbye to all those girls in bikinis, nope. It would now be full of muscle boys, or twinks eager to be at my feet.

I was now a fucking god! With smelly feet, stinky armpits and musky smelling whole body. I smelled amazing… And even better, I could act as dumb as the old Caleb. Although with the big difference that I would exploit being a dumb, stinky “himbo” to the fullest.

The guys are definitely going to love it.

To be continued.

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I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This is the second part of “Switch Up”, a new series for the blog, I hope you like it.

See you in the next story… Who knows what body you'll occupy this time?

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