#also my teacher asked how old i was and when i told him he was like 'fuuuck youre a baby. youre so young'

[yellowocaballero]

Continuing the JJK posting: Gojo is such a mystifying character.

Action show where swinging out the gate you introduce a character who is so incredibly powerful you then have to, before every fight, establish why Gojo can't just show up and fix the problem in seconds. His existence weakens the stakes of everything. The rest of the show you are backflipping ridding yourself of him. He jobs two major bad guys off the gate and every subsequent extensive fight with them feels like cleaning up his leftovers. Put him in a box, he's ruining the game balance. So absolutely broken. As a writer it makes your job so difficult, but it's also the entire point of him. "Hey I want to write the single most badass character of all time who can do the most insane shit but I will also engage with that", rock on king.

I think he's most interesting when understood as somebody who is fundamentally alien and removed from ordinary human thought processes. In his world there is absolutely nothing he cannot do, and the thought 'maybe I can't do something' just doesn't occur to him. He is capable of doing whatever he wants and of killing anybody who tries to stop him from doing what he wants. If he is not doing something, it is because he does not want to do it. If he wants to do something (kill all of his superiors) and he's not doing it, it's because he doesn't think it's the most effective route towards what he has decided to do. I think this informs the majority of his actions (and, importantly, what he doesn't do)(murder). I think he's reasoned out that you should have a general reason to do things, and it feels like sheer luck that he places value and meaning in human life, and as such you shouldn't kill them without a strong reason. Watching the flashback arc, if I hadn't seen a) JJK and b) Naruto and you asked me which shitty teen became a law abiding school teacher and which became a mass murderer I would have guessed the wrong ones.

Anyway, the way I like to think of him, he's a raging narcissist with a god complex to match. Horrifically, he's actually a good teacher, but he is also a teacher as an ego/'raising my child army' thing. He would be the kind of mother who is a good mother but lowkey had kids also as an ego/unconditional love/lots of attention/'surely my child will worship me' thing. Gets randomly into new hobbies, obsesses over them, gorges himself on the novelty factor, before dropping them in a week once he gets too good at them. Rinse and repeat. The only hobby that does not eventually grow boring is annoying people, so it's his only hobby. Geto told him age 15 that he'll never have any friends if he keeps on casually reminding people that they live on his sufferance, so he developed another back-up hobby more conducive for friendship of helping people forget that they live on his sufferance. This has convinced him that he's a god of subterfuge, intrigue, and trickery. Does eat women out, but is convinced that this makes him God's gift to women, and is actually pretty terrible in bed because his partner's desires never even occur to him. Is convinced he's as good at sex as he is everything else. Sex is actually the one thing he's bad at, but he's not ready to hear that.

In S1 he overall left me with the general impression that his entire idea of how high school worked was sourced from anime, and as such decided that being a teacher involved nothing but field trips, sports games, beach episodes, sports festivals, etc. Did not know how the classroom component worked so he skips it. Jossed, but also left me convinced that it would be very funny if he was an immortal 150-whatever years old and had founded the high school himself out of, you guessed it, an ego thing, and never once properly learned how high schools worked and just arbitrarily made his own aging students the new principals so he could continue engaging in training the kids who are too Misfit (TM) to get apprenticeships and living his fun slice of life anime life and raising a child army of kids who will worship him any day now. Annnyyyy day now. Any day now.

[persephone11110]

tummy hurts || j.seresin

tw: grooming, childhood trauma, emotional manipulation, past sexual abuse->child sexual abuse, self victim blaming-victim blaming (not jake) mentions of alcohol, past child neglect, the school system failed, jake calls reader goldie, Y/n hit Jake in chest a once

summary:“Little girls like you aren’t loved”.Your head was laying on the pillow next to him, your naked bodies touching eachother, he loved you, you loved him.

IMPORTANT NOTE: this is a very sensitive topic so please tread carefully also please let me know if there should be more trigger warnings

AN: a fic born after falling into a PLL hole on tik tok and the title comes from Tummy Hurts- Renee Rapp. Also ngl the reason Ive on a break was bcus my fics were going downhill and sad as it is it hard watching other fics blow up and your can’t even make it to double digits within hours.

—

THIS FIC IS ABOUT CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE/ SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF& VICTIM BLAMING, AND CHILD NEGLECT

—

“Sweetheart?” Jake asked slowly, unsure if his old man hearing was fucking with him. His voice dropped to a lower tone as more rage filled his chest.

Saturday nights were designated for you dine with your husband. A night were you and Jake catch up with each other, his aviation schedule and your college professor schedule was hard to work with.

You hated drinking more than one glass of wine as it always made your tongue loose. Somehow you managed to pour another glass it felt nice to let loose—what didn’t feel nice was your husband knowing how much dignity you didn’t have as a teenager.

“Goldie, you were how old” Jake grabs your hand, gently taking the glass out of your hand. Careful not talk to roughly. He watches as the color drains out of your face.

You were lucky enough to have a history teacher who didn’t give up on his students—especially not you.

Mr.Daniels, the best history teacher there was, he had goods and bad days. But who didn’t?

You and him bonded over the love of historical events. He didn’t tell you to stop talking or, to get the hell out. He would sit there with a warm smile listening to you go on and on about history.

You don’t how many times you’ve tried talking about your interests to mom and dad. And how many times they’ve stared at you with a blank face, or told you to go away.

But Mr. Edward Daniels didn’t. You had the privilege to call him Eddie when it was just the two alone inside the classroom after school hours.

He called you Y/n and you called him Eddie when you laid your mop of brown curls aganist his bare chest.

His blue sheets wrapped your naked body, the hickeys that riddled your stomach and hips.

“I was fifteen Jake”. you sighed dropping your hands into your lap. “He was a freshman history teacher—it was his first year teaching”.

“Y/n Collins”, he dropped a hand onto your shoulder, “I like the way you argue kid”.

“Fifteen, jesus”, Jake rubbed a hand over his face,“How come you never brought this up before sweetheart?”.

Not even a butcher knife could cut through the silence in the room.

Because you loved him. He gave you the love that no one else would.

“Its been over decade Jake…. times were different back then”. You said, chewing at the bottom of your lip. Your bouncy leg betrayed in how confident you sounded in your response.

“Doesn’t matter what decade were in you were a child and he was adult”. He softly glared at you, “His job was to protect and teach you about wars and he couldn’t even do that”.

You leaned back into couch wishing the damn thing would swallow you whole. Why’s Jake trying to make you seem like a victim—you aren’t one you and Eddie were lovers in the past.

Jake sat across from you he had a death grip on the beer bottle. “He loved me Jake, he was the first man to ever give a chance of being loved”.

Jake felt the need to empty his stomach at the words that came from your mouth. He scooted closer to you, there wasn’t any space between the both of you anymore.“Was it just a one time?”.

You couldn’t look your own husband in the eye.

Jake would know how dirty his wife.

Your silence was enough for him,“It wasn’t one time Y/n?”. Jake eyebrows furrowed,“Y/n whatever answer you give I hope you know I’d never shame or judge you”.

“We lasted for atleast for over year in half, before the school transfered him out of state”.

How long would It take me to find him and kill him.

Son of a bitch was transferred, he didn’t lose his teaching license.

“Goldie”,Jake calls your name gently—while grabbing your hands into his. “Look at me”.

You curled into yourself—Jake’s mad at you. “ Please don’t yell at me”. your voice hiccuped, you were begging him. You could handle anything but Jake Seresin yelling at you with so much anger and digust filled in his voice.

“Oh I could never blame you baby not now, not ever”. He gently cupped the side of your face, “I need you to understand how this isn’t your fault baby”. He moved around and positioned himself to make your foreheads touch eachother.

“Jake” you mumbled before you shoving your face into his neck. “I’m-”.

Jake shook his head at you he gently pulled from him,“Darlin i don’t wanna you even to think about apologizing to me”, He pressed a kiss into your cheek before speaking again.“The only one who deserves that is you, the adults around you should’ve looked out for you, your parents had one job and it was to just love you”.

You curled into yourself, you didn’t deserve Jakes love.

“Sweetheart i’m sorry for my rant here it just makes me angry that all those adults in your life and no one protected you, a innocent child who willed for love and attention from her parents”. You held onto Jake tightly afraid that in a split second he change his mind and leave you.

Your breathing became shaky and weak the hiccups got worse—your sobs got louder.

You weren’t a victim.

Jake Seresin didn’t know what he was talking about, your husband wasn’t there fifteen years ago.

He’s wrong-.

“Sweetheart”. Jake reached to grab you, “Y/n”.

Your arms become flailing, your were pretty sure your hands and Jakes chest connected atleast once or twice.

“Its okay Y/n, Its okays sweetheart”, Jake was finally able to get a grip on you—pulling your head ontop of his chest. “Shh baby, let it all out”.

“He hurt me so much Jake and nobody cared”, you sobbed.“When I finaly got the courage to tell my parents they looked at me and the first thing that came out their mouth was whore. “Y/n how much of whore do you have to be to sleep with a man well into his early forties?”

Jake wiped a tear from your face.“You got someone who cares Y/n, you have someone who loves you just as you are”. Jake sighed, would he be bad person if he took the nearest flight to his wife hometown and he beat old man to a pulp?

Bad man or good husband?, those lines tend to blur when the love of his life get hurt.

“Baby just say the word me and daggers can hop the earliest flight and kill a man, while Ice and Mav are our alibi’s”.

Your lips curl a little a small smile breaking through. “Theres that smile that broke my pool winning streak”,Jake smiles into your shoulder.

“Thank you Jake for loving me, thank you for piecing back my broken pieces”. you murmured quietly, knowing that if you go another octave higher theres a chance that you’ll start crying again.

“Oh baby I should be thanking you, you trusted me with your heart— and Y/n you were always whole you just didn’t feel it”.

My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.

[supercantaloupe]

okay survived my lesson. head still hurts but survived and even managed to play some kalliwoda despite The Agonies. although it helps that my teacher spent the first full hour of our lesson talking about grad school and jobs and bitching about how much it sucks to make it as a professional musician

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[rafesaddiction]

It's not cheating when he's your stepbrother – Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You lie about your first kiss. Will you lie about your first time too?

You are Rafe's stepsister, just graduated from boarding school and here for the summer holidays before you'll leave for college. You and Rafe used to be close, but that changed, years ago. Now he is distant and mean, and something else happens when you have your first boyfriend. A nice guy, a sweet guy, nothing like Rafe.

Concept: stepsiblings, first time, just the tip

Warnings: mdni! – smut, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, p in v, loss of virginity (virgin!reader), fingering, stepcest, violence, slapping, manhandling, mentions of child abuse (ward physically and emotionally abusing rafe), cheating (reader cheating on boyfriend), name calling (rafe calls reader slut and whore), angst, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, this starts off kinda sweet but gets quite dark.

When reading this, please do so at your own discretion. Keep in mind, this is just a work of fiction.

Word count: 9.0k (holy fuck! how did that happen?)

tagging @ashy-kit since you asked. I hope you'll like this.

“Wait! Was that actually your first kiss? Oh my god! It was!”

Sarah stared at you with large eyes, then covered her mouth, laughing. You just smiled, shrugged, and averted your gaze, feeling heat in your cheeks. It was a bit embarrassing that your younger stepsister had more experience with boys than you did. The reason for that might have been that you had gone to an all-girls boarding school practically your whole life. But truth was, if anything, away from parents, kids had even more opportunities at boarding school to gain sexual experience, be it with other students, local boys, or even teachers. You knew that a lot of your classmates did much more than just kiss when sneaking out at night. But you weren't the type to sneak out at night. You were the type to get your first kiss at 18 after graduating from said boarding school.

“Tell us more,” Wheezie insisted. She sat next to you on the couch, cross-legged, looking at you, eager to hear your story. You smiled at your little stepsister. You two had grown closer over the past years, with Wheezie discovering the internet and thus being able to chat with you even when you were hundreds of miles away at school.

“Denny is quite a good kisser though. You’re lucky, he was your first,” Sarah said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table in front of her.

You knew that Sarah had hooked up with Denny. So you had, of course, told her when he had asked you out. Sarah was totally okay with it, she even encouraged you to text him back, when he texted you. Denny hadn't been her boyfriend, just one of her hook-ups, ages ago. And as of now, Sarah was too happily in love with her pogue boyfriend to be jealous at all. It was kind of a forbidden romance, Wheezie had told you all about it, but Sarah herself also liked to share, she loved talking about her boyfriend and his pogue friends and their way of living. And you liked to listen to her exciting stories or when she complained about her father or brother. You liked that you were kind of close, even though you only spent the summer and Christmas holidays at Tannyhill.

Your mother had you at a very young age and you were practically raised by your grandma. When your mother married Ward Cameron, you were old enough to be send off to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country. The school was in another state, but could as well have been on another continent. Your mother didn't want to have you in her new life, she already had three new kids to look after. Ward wouldn’t have minded, he made sure you knew that you were as much a daughter to him as Sarah and Wheezie. He showed his affection by paying for your expensive education. Now that you had graduated from high school, you were supposed to spend the summer before going to an ivy league school with your family in the Outer Banks.

“Did you close your eyes? Did you feel butterflies? Did he do the neck grab?” Wheezie kept shooting one question after the other and you felt your face must have been glowing. You looked away, trying to think of what to answer, when your eyes met a pair of intense blue eyes, staring at you from across the room.

Rafe, your older stepbrother, stood in the hallway, looking at you. And for some reason, you felt that damn heat had reached your ears. You quickly looked away, turning to Sarah, who was telling Wheezie that she shouldn't base her expectations on tiktoks and fanfics.

The kiss happened the night before at a kook party. You had been texting and hanging out with Denny for about two weeks. He was your age, he was charming, smart, the former captain of the football team. He was actually so good that he got a scholarship to play at a college team. Not that he would have needed the scholarship to go to college, his parents were one of the wealthiest kook families on the island. Almost as rich and influential as the Camerons. Of course, you knew Denny before, the island was small and he was one of your stepbrother's friends. But this whole thing with him only started about two weeks ago when you quite literally ran into him at the country club. He insisted on buying you another drink even though you were the one who spilled your drink on him. He texted you later, he got your number from Sarah, and, since Sarah was encouraging you, you texted back and agreed to go on a date with him. You had been on four dates already: dinner, a trip to the beach, another dinner, and a date on his family's yacht, when you went to the party with him the previous night. And then it just happened. He kissed you outside the house where the party was. It was a starry night and the kiss was nice. And after, he took your hand and walked inside with you and you smiled, as you felt the warmth of his hand around yours.

“I'll get us some fresh popcorn, then we can start the movie, okay?” You grabbed the half-empty bowl and got up from the couch, while your stepsisters were in some serious discussion about some actor from a show you had never heard of.

You left the living room and walked past Rafe, who didn't seem to have moved an inch. You didn't look up at him when you spoke to him.

“You wanna join us and watch a movie with us? It's Wheezie's choice tonight, so I guess it's whatever is trending on netflix at the moment,” you said and were about to head for the kitchen, when suddenly his hand wrapped around your arm. You stopped and looked up at him, gasping.

Rafe leaned down to you, and you felt his hand gripping tighter around your arm. You winced and were about to say something, when you met his eyes. Dark blue orbs staring at you, so very close to you.

“Why did you lie?”

You frowned in confusion.

“Why did you lie and say that that was your first kiss?”

You just gazed up at him. And despite the heat in your face, you felt a shiver running down your spine.

You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but he cut you off.

“I hate liars.”

And then he let go off you, turned around and just left, and you felt your heart beating in your chest, so rapidly, so loudly, your stepsisters in the other room must have heard it. You stepped back from the door, your back pressing against the wall, as you tried to compose yourself.

He was right. That kiss wasn't your first kiss.

Your first kiss happened with Rafe when you were 15 and he was 17.

It was right after Christmas. Before New Year's Eve. It was late at night and you decided to have a hot chocolate before going to sleep. You met Rafe in the kitchen, standing at the open fridge, rummaging it for some leftovers from dinner. He was wearing that ridiculous Christmas sweater with the reindeer over his sleeping shorts. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. He was already tall then, not as tall as he was now, but much taller than you. He was lean, less bulky. He was a boy still and he grinned like one, when he turned to look at you.

“What's so funny? You laughing at me?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, grinning, “Sven.”

You squealed and giggled when Rafe launched a tickle-attack on you.

It used to be so easy around him. He was always sweet, sometimes teasing, but always in a sweet way. He was protective and you felt safe with him. You were closer then, and it was just easy to be yourself with him.

You got into a real tickle fight with him, chasing each other around the kitchen, as he finally got you.

“Stop, stop, stop! I surrender!” You said, out of breath. Your cheeks hurting from laughing so hard.

He stopped tickling you, but his hands still rested on your sides, and he stood very close in front of you. Your own hands clutching that ridiculous sweater of his. He looked down at you. His hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, his lips parted. He didn't laugh or grin and your own laughing had stopped too. All you heard was your rapid heartbeat and both of you panting.

And his hand touched your cheek. You felt a little spark, but instead of withdrawing, you leaned into his touch. Your lips parted as he leaned closer. His face so close, you could hardly make out his features, so you closed your eyes, and breathed in. And it was his scent that filled your lungs, before you felt his lips on yours. And that contact sent a wave of some yet unknown sensation through your body, and you felt it everywhere, felt it in your fingertips that grabbed the sweater. Felt it in your toes as you stood on them to meet Rafe's lips. Felt it on your skin, where he touched you, felt it under your skin. Felt it coursing through your veins.

A distant sound, and Rafe suddenly broke the kiss. In a state of daze you opened your eyes and moved them to what Rafe was staring at. Or to who.

Ward was standing in the door to the kitchen. His presence towering both of you. You shuddered and jumped away from Rafe.

You slowly walked backwards, your heart racing, sudden fear being the dominant emotion. But when Ward came closer, his attention wasn't focused on you. He hardly seemed to notice that you were even there. He glared at his son, glared at Rafe who just stood there, as if he was paralyzed by fear, unable to move.

You didn't wait for what happened, you chose flight and ran past Ward, ran up to your room, locking the door. You heard no screaming, no yelling, though you had expected as much. When half way up the stairs, you had heard a thud, and then something banging heavily, like a chair falling to the ground.

The next morning, you didn't see Rafe at the breakfast table. You saw your stepfather, who was smiling and being his relaxed self as ever. Only he avoided directly looking at you.

You saw Rafe later in the afternoon. You wanted to talk to him, say something, but you didn't know what. And when you saw the bruise under his eye, you had no words left.

Four days later you left to return to school. And when you came back during spring break, things were different, very different. Rafe no longer smiled at you, never laughed when you were around. When he didn't avoid you, he glared at you. And there was something so dark in his blue eyes that it made you shudder and sob at night.

“But you have to come!” Sarah pushed out her lower lip and looked at you with her big brown eyes, pleadingly, practically begging you to come with you to the party that evening.

“I want to spend time with my favorite older sibling and I want you to meet my friends. Besides, what do you want to do here, huh? Your boyfriend is on a family trip in the Bahamas and you can't seriously want to spend another evening binge-watching The Summer I Turned Pretty with Wheezie. Come on! Pleaaase.” Sarah's pouting went up another level and she made actual puppy eyes.

You didn't mind spending another evening with Wheezie and listening to her endless monologs on why she would always choose Jeremiah over Conrad, over any guy really.

You sighed. “But I don't have anything to –”

“To wear?” Sarah interrupted you and grabbed your hand. “Come on, you can pick whatever you want from my closet.”

You sighed in defeat, but smiled, as you followed your stepsister into her bedroom.

You didn't end up with choosing anything from her closet, but she picked out an outfit for you. And Sarah had great taste and you didn't complain. She selected a light summer dress for you, fitting for a casual party at the beach. You liked how the fabric felt on your skin and how the cut accented your curves without revealing too much. The skirt was a bit shorter than what you'd usually wore, but it was the middle of summer and you were on the island and not in the city.

When looking at the mirror, you smiled at the young woman smiling at you. You touched the golden necklace you were wearing. A gift from Denny. When he gave it to you the other day, you were surprised. Wasn't it a bit early for such costly gifts? But he insisted on you taking it and he was so happy when he put it around your neck. The pendant was a green stone, it was a bit heavy, but it looked nice. You really appreciated the gesture. And you really appreciated how your boyfriend treated you. He was okay with taking things slow. He never pushed you and in these past weeks, you had never done more than holding hands. You hadn't even kissed again. – Something you wouldn't tell your sister, for a reason you didn't quite know yourself.

You enjoyed yourself a lot at the party. Sarah's friends were easy to get along with, especially JJ. You just met him like an hour ago and he had already made you laugh more than you had in the whole past month or even year. But talking with Pope was also nice, he knew a lot and you liked listening to him. You also liked watching how these two boys got into a playfight about something stupid. You didn't mind that Sarah left you with the pogues as she and John B wanted to spend some time alone.

“Now, c'mon. Dance with me, big-city girl,” JJ pointed at you, then bent his finger to indicate that you should follow him. You laughed and shook your head. He then tried to catch you with an imaginary lasso.

“You’d better go, before he does his full-on cowboy impression, and talking in that accent, and believe me, you don't wanna hear that. No one wants to hear that,” Pope told you, leaning closer to you, and then taking your cup, so you could go and join JJ at the bonfire.

You couldn't deny that the cheap beer you had been drinking had made you a bit tipsy and somehow loosened you up a bit. But mainly, you just felt comfortable in the presence of Sarah's friends that had quickly become your friends too. And you weren't the only ones dancing by the fire. Other people also danced to the music coming from someone's speakers.

JJ took your hand and twirled you around, made an effort at imitating some dance moves that looked very elaborated. It was fun, you felt a permanent grin on your cheeks, glowing with the heat from the nearby fire, the booze and the excitement. You felt free, not thinking about anything at all. Not even thinking about the way you moved, but you just did. You felt the music, felt the joy of being young and careless – and you suddenly felt something hard that you bumped into, while twirling around.

“Sorry,” you muttered and looked up, as two hands grabbed your arms.

And you looked into the angry face of your stepbrother.

You froze, just for a moment. Then you tried to get away, but Rafe only held you closer, like pulling you into a tight embrace, and for an instant you thought that he might want to dance with you. But he didn't.

“Hey!” JJ's voice behind you made your head spin around.

“Let her go!” The blond boy stood a couple of feet away, his hands clenched into fists. His whole body seemed tensed up and he glared at Rafe. JJ looked so different from how he had looked a minute ago. All that carelessness, all his smiles gone.

You felt Rafe tense up too, as his hands tightened their grip around your arms, making you wince in pain.

“JJ,” he said his name through clenched teeth as if it was an insult.

The two boys stared at each other, the tension between them was palpable. People had gathered around them, but you didn't actually take notice of them. You looked at JJ, tried to tell him not to do anything stupid, but his eyes were fixed on Rafe. You looked at Rafe. You gave up freeing yourself from his iron grip.

“Please,” you pleaded, unsure what else to say. Your voice too soft, too weak anyway. You felt cold all of a sudden, and very sober.

And then everything happened just so fast.

JJ must have stepped closer, because the next moment, Rafe pushed you behind his own body as he lunged forward to hit JJ. When he moved his arm back, his elbow hit you at your chin and you, no longer held by him, stumbled and fell to the sandy ground. But neither Rafe nor JJ took notice. When you looked up, you saw them throwing fists at each other. Their bodies colliding, this was another kind of dance. You were shocked to see such fierce violence, both of them seemingly fighting with the intend to end the other.

You were shaking and only now noticed that you had started to cry. You cried and yelled and pleaded them to stop.

Fortunately, some guys stepped in, pulling the fighting boys apart.

Rafe angrily shrugged off the guy who was holding him, while two others held JJ, who fiercely, but in vain fought to free himself.

“Rafe!” You screamed his name, and that made him stop, made him turn his head towards you, still sitting on the ground, tears running down your face.

Rafe's eyes were dark and the look on his face was unlike anything you had ever witnessed. You flinched as he came closer, suddenly so afraid of your own stepbrother. He frowned at your reaction, but proceeded. He grabbed your arm, made you cry out in pain, pulled you to your feet. And when you tried to get away, because every cell in your body told you to run, he caught you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, picking you up like you weighed nothing, held you in both his arms. Your feet kicking the air, your fists trying to hit him, you were screaming, but he easily carried you away. And no one stopped him.

Through teary eyes you saw JJ being held by the two guys while a third one punched his face, and yet he fought, tried to get away, looking at you, looking at Rafe, who carried you away, carried you from the beach to his car.

He opened the door and tossed you onto the passenger seat. You let out a groan, as something hit your back. As soon as Rafe let go off you, you tried to get up, get out, but Rafe pushed you back into the seat.

“Let me go! Just let me go!” Your hands tried to shove him out of the way.

He caught one of your wrists, twisted it in his grip, as he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt.

You whined and gave up fighting as you knew he was too strong and you had no chance against him at all.

“Please just let me go. Why are you like this?” You pleaded between sobs.

“Why am I like this?!” Rafe yelled at you and his hand shot forward to grasp your chin, pressing so hard, you feared he would crush your jaw.

“You acting like a goddamn slut messing around with a fucking pogue!”

You flinched at each word he yelled at you, his face closer and closer. His eyes so wild, his whole expression just fuming with rage, directed at you.

“I did not,” you tried to defend yourself.

“You're a fucking LIAR!”

You flinched, and when you closed your eyes, a stream of tears ran down your cheeks.

“No,” you tried again, but he cut you short.

“You think I'm stupid?” He tilted his head, frowning, his eyes small as he glared at you in disbelief. “You think I don't know what's going on? You fucking that pogue. You’re a whore. Just like Sarah. All my sisters are goddamn sluts fucking those filthy pogues. And what does that make me look like, huh? Thought about that? Thought about what it means for your family? Your free-spirited fucking lifestyle? How does that look on dad, huh? Have you ever thought about anyone but yourself? Ever thought about the consequences of what you're doing?”

You gazed at him, taken aback by his accusations, not understanding what had gotten into him.

His eyes moved down from your face to your chest, which rose and fell under your agitated breathing.

His hand slowly let go of your chin, moved down your neck. You held your breath as you felt the pressure on your throat. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. His hand moved down further, his palm pressing hard onto the necklace’s pendant. You winced as you felt the hard stone digging into your skin.

“My own sister. Dressed like a whore. Fucking a pogue.” His voice was now calmer, darker, and it made you shiver.

“But, Rafe,” you sobbed, your hands tentatively reaching for his arm. “I did not do anything, I swear.”

The back of his hand hit your cheek so hard, your head flew to the side and it hit the headrest of the driver's seat.

You stared at him in shock, eyes widened, lips parted, pressing your hand to your throbbing cheek.

You couldn't believe what just happened.

But instead of apologizing or saying anything that would explain what he just did, Rafe just kept looking at you, his eyes on your trembling body. You noticed only now that your dress had slipped up, revealing a bit of your underwear. You quickly reached down to pull the fabric to cover as much of your legs as possible.

You looked up as you heard him scoff.

Shaking his head, moving his lips as if talking, talking to himself, he pushed himself back from the door, slammed it shut and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.

You shifted as far away from him as you could, pressing your shoulder against the window, but you did not try to get out. You did not try to stop him when he started the engine. You did not yell or scream or rage. You just sat there, quietly sobbing as he drove you back to Tannyhill.

And Rafe didn't say anything, didn't even look at you when he parked the car in the driveway. He didn't look back when he got into the house, just left the front door open after he went inside.

You followed, slowly, your body still shaking with sobs. Your face hurt. The throbbing had become a sharp pain by now.

You got inside the house, it was dark, your parents and your little sister fast asleep.

You waited at the top of the stairs, until you heard the door of Rafe's bedroom shut, then you ran into your own room, locked the door behind you and crawled under the covers of your bed.

You didn't tell anyone what had happened that night with Rafe in the car.

Of course, Sarah knew about the fight between Rafe and JJ, and the day after she asked you, if you were okay. She even asked you if she should come over. But you said, you were okay and she should stay at John B's, you might come over later too. Sarah liked that idea, she was totally excited about it. You were talking over the phone, no video, so you didn't have to fake a smile. But you liked just listening when she talked with you about John B and the pogues. Their treasure hunting, their fishing trips, how she was learning to surf. It was nice to hear that your stepsister was so happy. It made you forget your own situation for a while.

Truth was, you weren't quite sure what that situation was.

The next days you tried your best to avoid your stepbrother, which wasn't too hard. He seemed to be out or asleep most of the time. So you were able to spend some time with Wheezie, preferably outside the house, somewhere you'd know you wouldn't accidentally run into Rafe, like that ice-cream parlor or the waffle house that sold these literally gigantic waffles with pink marshmallows. You even went to the mainland to a funfair with your little stepsister. Wheezie didn't notice the bruises on your face. You did quite a good job covering them up with your make up.

Since your boyfriend was still away with his family, you spent the nights either watching movies with Wheezie, helping her make tiktoks, or just in your room, reading a book.

You closed the book you had been reading for the past hours. Yawning, you looked at your phone. It was almost 3 a.m. You needed to use the bathroom. You sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating. Usually you would go down the corridor to get to the bathroom Sarah and Wheezie were sharing. But it was the middle of the night and you didn't want Wheezie to wake up. Besides, Rafe hadn't come home that night, so he wouldn't hear you.

You left your room and went to the bathroom. Pushing open the unlocked door, you stepped inside and froze. The light was on and you should have taken your time and listened when you had been outside. The water of the rain shower was running. And Rafe was standing under the shower. His back to you. The water raining down on his body, his naked body. The open shower offered you a complete view. His hair was wet, sticking to his head. Drops of water gracing his broad shoulders. Trails of water running down his back, accentuating the contours of his well-defined muscles. Water running down his lower back, over the curves of his butt, down his legs. He shifted slightly, his legs parting just a bit. Your eyes darted up, and you saw how he turned his head, turned it towards you. And looked at you. Water drops caught in his lashes, as he gazed at you. And his body moved and he was about to turn around completely, when you finally woke up from your frozen state and swiftly turned around and left the bathroom as fast as you could.

When you were inside your room, you were shaking. Your back pressed against the back of your door. You were panting, so loudly, it was embarrassing. You covered your mouth with both your hands. Your legs felt weak, like they would give in, but at the same time you felt something else, a very different, very unknown sensation. Something that had started as a tickling sensation and was now a throbbing, between your legs. You pressed them as closely together as you could. But it wouldn't stop. All your previous sleepiness gone, it seemed like all your senses were fully awake and heightened.

You heard a door open and close. You tried to focus and listen, between the sounds of your own rapid heartbeat. You heard footsteps on the corridor. Slow and heavy. They came closer and stopped. In front of your door. Right behind you. You pressed the palm of one of your hands against the wood. And you stopped breathing. Your mind racing. Trying to remember if you had locked your door.

It was still, completely still apart from your own heavy breathing, muffled by your own hand.

Then you heard footsteps again and another door, open and close.

And you still couldn't move.

When you finally made it to your bed, after checking if you indeed had locked your door, you didn't find real sleep for the rest of the night. Again and again you woke up, hearing the dripping sound of water or raspy breathing close to your ear.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because when you opened your eyes next, the sun was shining right into your face and it was almost noon. You groaned as you turned in your bed. It was unusual for you to get up this late. You got dressed, wearing a sweater and your jeans shorts. It was most probably too hot outside for wearing a sweater, but with the air conditioning working, it was a bit chilly inside.

You went to the kitchen to get some coffee and something to eat to finally start the day. On your way downstairs, you heard Wheezie's and your mother's voice from another room. You figured that at this time of the day, the kitchen would be empty. Except it wasn't.

You stopped in the doorway when you saw Rafe. His back turned towards you, wearing a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants, Rafe was standing at the coffeemaker.

Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, which he must have heard, because his head turned around. His eyes met yours. Just for a brief moment, then he turned his attention back to the machine in front of him. He didn't say anything, but you could have sworn that you saw a tiny smirk curling up the corners of his lips.

You took a deep breath. Something inside you told you to just go and run upstairs, lock yourself in your room. But your feet started moving and you walked to the fridge. It didn't seem as if Rafe even cared that you were in the same room with him. So you supposed that he had resumed his usual stance of just ignoring you. Besides, you still heard your sister's voice from the living room close by. Even Rafe wouldn't dare to do anything with his family, with his little sister so close by.

You went about grabbing something to eat and making yourself a coffee, while Rafe was doing the same quietly. You didn't look at him, just heard him move about and saw his frame from the corner of your eyes.

Your hands rested on the edge of the counter, fingers curling, your weight shifted to one foot, the other foot rubbed over your calf, feeling the warm woolen fabric of the sock, you were deeply in thought, while waiting for the coffeemaker to finish the program for your cappuccino.

“You're done with the staring?”

That dark voice directly behind you made you flinch and you lost your balance, tipping to the side, you almost fell – if it hadn't been for a strong hand catching you. And even when you were standing securely on both feet again, that hand didn't let go off your waist.

You felt your chest widen with the deep breath you took.

Rafe's body was so close to yours, you could feel the heat radiating from it. You could feel his muscles move as he leaned down to you, his chest pressing against your back.

“So, did you like what you saw? Last night? You left in such a rush. What were you doing in your room? Lying in your bed, thinking about my cock, touching yourself?” His lips grazed your ear as he whispered those words that made you involuntarily shiver, despite the heat you felt under your sweater.

You turned your head to look at him, when you felt something poking at your back.

Your lips parted and you felt them quiver as his face moved closer. His breath caressing your face, his eyes holding yours as his lips hovered over your mouth. Your breathing hitched as you felt his other hand move up to reach for your face.

“Finally you're up!” Wheezie's voice made you gasp. You felt pure heat rushing to your head.

Rafe’s hand – a second ago almost brushing your cheekbone – reached up to the cupboard above your head, taking out a glass. He walked to the fridge to take out the orange juice and pour some into the glass.

You grabbed the mug from under the coffeemaker, turned around and lifted it to your lips even though the contents were still too hot to drink. Your sleeves covered your wrists and you held the mug with both your hands, holding onto it like a lifeline. You nodded at Wheezie and tried to offer her a smile while your whole body was trembling.

Rafe had downed the orange juice and was pouring himself another glass, when Wheezie came over, snatched that newly filled glass from his hands and turned towards you while taking a sip.

“I needed your help with that tiktok,” she said and her accusing tone made you feel guilty, even though you couldn't remember having promised her to help her.

“I'm sorry,” you muttered. “We can do it now?” You offered.

Wheezie exhaled dramatically.

“Now is too late. We're about to leave.” Wheezie looked at you with her dark eyes, pouting. “But you could come and we can make it on the ferry,” she asked sweetly all of a sudden and took another sip from the orange juice.

Rafe, obviously having decided that he was still thirsty, had stepped closer and took out another glass from the kitchen cupboard above your head. His arm brushing your hair as he did so. And you felt goosebumps crawling over your skin, spreading on your neck.

Your eyes darted up and you noticed that Rafe's eyes traveled to your neck, and that look felt more intense than any touch and caused another shiver.

“You cold? Are you sick? Is that why you slept in?” Wheezie sounded seriously concerned now.

That shiver must have been visible. You cursed your own body for reacting so intensely and so weirdly to your stepbrother's presence.

“No, no, don't worry, Wheezie. I'm fine. I just spent the whole night reading.”

You heard a scoff coming from Rafe, but didn't look.

“Oh, that book with the dragons? You need to tell me all about it!”

“I will,” you smiled, and it was a real smile. You loved your little sister's enthusiasm.

“But not today. Denny is coming back from his family trip and we're meeting this afternoon.”

Wheezie's lips formed a disappointed ‘O', but then she nodded and took more sips from her glass.

“You're spending a lot of time with that boy lately,” Ward had entered the kitchen, and he offered you a warm smile. “You should invite him over for dinner, so we can officially meet.”

“Oh, my god, dad. You sound like a total patriarch,” Wheezie rolled her eyes.

“I do? Now the patriarch tells you to get in the car, Wheezie, we're already late,” Ward tilted his head and looked at his youngest daughter with warmth in his eyes.

Wheezie rolled her eyes again, muttered an annoyed “Fine,” put her glass down on the counter next to you, hugged you as if she was about to leave for months. When she let go, she turned towards her brother standing by the fridge.

“Bye, Rafe. Thanks for the juice,” she said, twirled around and literally danced out of the kitchen, as Rafe mumbled his reply.

You noticed how his stance had changed completely, his shoulders were drawn up, he was looking down. He seemed more tense ever since his father had come into the kitchen.

“If you don't find it too patriarchy of me, I’d like to get to know the boy that my daughter spends so much time with.”

“No, of course, that would be nice. I’ll ask him,” you quickly replied and smiled at your stepfather. You couldn't deny it, it always made you feel sort of happy when Ward casually called you his daughter, making no difference between you and his biological daughters.

“Now that's settled then,” he said. “Enjoy your date.”

“Thanks,” you took a sip from your cappuccino, which was now cool enough to drink.

Ward gave you another smile, before turning his attention toward his son.

“I asked you to drop off the crates at the site by 2.”

“I – I will. I'm on it,” Rafe gazed at his father who frowned at him.

“That's what you always say.”

“But I will.”

“It's a simple task, Rafe. If you can't even do that –“

“No, I said I will!” Rafe straightened up, took a step closer to his father, his body tensing up, you noticed.

“Honey? We need to get going,” your mother looked through the kitchen door.

“You have a nice day with Denny, sweetheart,” she addressed you, before just frowning at Rafe and leaving.

Before Ward also left, he smiled at you again – this time, the smile was a bit strained, you noticed.

He shot a less than friendly look at his son.

“For a change, just don't disappoint me again.”

When your parents had left, you remained in the kitchen and there was a strange silence.

You looked at Rafe, he was biting his nails.

“You okay?” Your voice soft, full of real concern.

He turned his face towards you, glared at you.

“Shut up!” You flinched as he yelled at you and then stormed out of the kitchen.

You let out a shaky breath after he had left. You weren't hungry anymore, so you just emptied the remains of your cappuccino into the sink and went upstairs.

Wrapped in a towel after taking a long hot shower in your sisters' bathroom, you returned to your room, only to find Rafe standing at your bed, looking at the clothes you had picked out to wear.

He held up the top you had put on the bed.

“You gonna wear that to your date?” He tilted his head, looking at you, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“Give that back,” you tried to snatch it from his hand, but Rafe's reflexes were better and he held it up, out of reach. Still you tried to get a hold of it, reaching up with one arm, while you held the towel close to your chest with your other hand, feeling it loosen from the quick movement.

Rafe looked down at you, just with his eyes, and there was a glint in them, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk.

You frowned and held both your arms now in front of your chest, clutching the towel.

The tip of his tongue flicked out and wetted his lips. As if it was some reflex, you bit your own lips, and he chuckled in response. You only now realized that his body was so close to yours that you felt that vibration in your own body.

“You want to seduce him? Want him to fuck you?”

“Why are you so –” You looked up at his face and tried to step back when you felt the edge of the bed hitting the back of your legs and stopping your movement.

“So what?” He bowed his head down and his piercing blue eyes stared at you.

“Mean,” you said.

“You like it, don't you?” He tilted his head to the side and that grin on his lips changed.

“No,” you said quickly and as firmly as you managed to.

“No what?” He mocked you.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed. Still holding the towel with both hands, you tried to push at his chest with your elbow to get some distance between you two.

“I like you better when you're not mean,” you said, no longer looking up, but your eyes on his chest that you were trying to push away.

“That so?” His voice was lower than before and you lifted your gaze to see his eyebrows raised. “Like when?”

“Like when you were nice.”

"What is nice, hm?”

You felt a heat crawling under your skin and lowered your gaze.

His fingers under your chin tilted up your head, made you look at him again. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip.

“This nice?” His voice a raspy whisper.

The sudden softness of his touch made you shiver.

Your lips parted and you drew in a sharp breath as he leaned down.

“This?” His voice so low, you could hardly hear it, but feel it so intensely, as his lips moved close to yours. And you could taste his breath, taste the coffee and the orange juice and him.

You held your breath and his lips grazed the corner of your mouth. You closed your eyes. Exhaling through your mouth, you felt that trembling growing. Your legs suddenly unsteady. But you didn't fall. His arm wrapped around you and held you close to his body as he slowly lowered you on the bed.

His lips were so incredibly soft as they covered your face with tender kisses. His body was hovering over yours as you lay on your back. You felt its warmth, but not its weight.

His hand touched your face, his long fingers caressed your neck, brushed over your shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your heated skin. His mouth traveled over your cheekbone to your ear. His breath made you gasp and whimper as the tip of his nose touched that spot you didn't know was so sensitive. Slowly and without any resistance from you, he uncurled your fingers that were wrapped around the towel. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder, and your fingers, like they had their own will, grasped at it, held onto him, as your body arched and a moan escaped your lips when his mouth found the sensitive skin on your neck. His big hand cupped your now exposed breast, kneading it, fumbling it, no longer touching softly. His knee pushed between your legs, parting them. And you felt the pressure at your core as your hips rose to meet him.

Your breathing, slow and loud, was all that could be heard in the room. And then the soft sucking sounds of his lips on your neck, leaving a mark.

Both your hands were on him now. The one hand at his shoulder, grabbing so hard, it was shaking. Your other hand touching his back. The lightest pull from you and he rocked his hips against yours, making you gasp and open your eyes in surprise as you felt his hard length urging against your thigh. Being completely inexperienced, you couldn't quite judge whether it was normal that it was so huge. And your mind was cloudy with all those unknown sensations that you were unable to tell whether this was right when you felt his fingers rub along your folds, when they parted them and pushed inside you.

You tensed up, cried out, as you clenched around the intruding digit. Your hands no longer pulling Rafe closer but trying to push him up, like pushing at an unmovable rock.

You whined as his finger pushed deeper, your face turning to the side, away from him as a tear ran down your cheek. He let out a hissing sound, his mouth close to your neck. His finger remained inside of you but stopped moving further. You already felt so incredibly full. His lips started moving over your skin. He kissed your chin, kissed your cheek, licked at your tears.

“No,” your voice a hoarse whisper, your hand balled into a fist, pressing at his shoulder uselessly, in vain trying to push him off you.

“No,” you said again and that word turned into a moan as you felt something pressing against your most sensitive spot. His thumb rubbed your pearl and your traitorous body reacted by shivering. And your legs parted further. He moved them up, made them bent, giving him room. His finger curled inside you. Your body convulsed. You opened your eyes, but you couldn't see anything clear. You felt your body heating up, sweat covering it. Your hands clutching at Rafe's shirt as you made those noises that didn't sound like coming from you. But they came from you. From something deep inside you. Something Rafe had just started to awake. You bit your lips to make those sounds stop as you felt that throbbing at your core with Rafe's fingers caressing, pushing, rubbing, pinching, curling, thrusting.

His other hand gripped your chin, turned your head and you looked up at him, just for a second, before his lips met yours and he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the one you remembered from all those years ago, that tender kiss. This kiss was hungry and fierce, and intoxicating. Your mouth opened for his tongue. He claimed it. And when it pushed inside you, it felt like it was your own hunger. You felt like you were starving as he was devouring you.

Wide-eyed, your face burning with heat, your body aching with an unknown need, you gazed up at him when he broke the kiss, lifting his body, no longer touching you. But you still felt him, felt him on you, felt him inside of you, tasted him in your mouth. He had let go off you for a moment to take off his shirt and his sweatpants.

He was completely naked when he hovered above you, resting on his hands pressed into mattress on either side of you. The muscles in his arms tense and hard. Everything about him was hard. Solid like a rock. He was kneeling between your legs. Your body shaking, shivering as if you were cold when you felt that sweat covering it and that wetness between your legs. You were so much the opposite of him, in every way. You felt it so much at that moment when he just looked down at you. Something in his eyes so harsh that it made you shudder and close your eyes. You shook your head and stopped when his hand touched your face and held it. You opened your eyes. His face only inches away from yours.

“I'm gonna be gentle, alright? I'm gonna be nice.” His lips brushed yours in a tender kiss and your body arched up, despite your hands being balled up into fists and your arms pressed close to your chest as if you were trying to shield yourself.

You felt a movement, felt the bed tilt. And when you opened your eyes, you saw him kneeling in front of you, touching his hard cock, pumping it.

You gasped at the sight. It was even bigger than you had thought from what you had felt earlier. It was too big.

“Just the tip, alright? I won't push it all in. I know you're too delicate,” he said as if he had read your mind – or just saw the fear in your eyes.

He leaned down to kiss you and whisper at your lips.

“Just the tip, I promise. You will like it.”

As if proving his point, your hips moved up on their own and a hot shiver made you moan as his fingers touched your needy core. A smile appeared on his face, not quite a smirk, but you weren't sure anymore what you saw, what you felt, what you wanted. All reason was clouded and still, you knew that this was wrong.

You closed your eyes as he lifted one of your legs.

“Look at me,” his voice dark and so low, you felt a tingling at the back of your neck.

You obeyed and opened your eyes. Your arms were still pressed against your heaving chest, but it was easy for him to move them and place your hands on his shoulders as he lowered himself onto you.

“Look at me,” he said again and your eyes were fixed on his face, watching his features, seeing that little smile, that glint in his eyes, seeing his mouth open, and his face contort the moment his tip parted your folds. At first it felt slick and smooth and then suddenly so painfully rough. The thick tip was stretching you unbearably wide. Your legs automatically pressed against his body, desperately trying to close and shut out the intruder. He pushed them apart and you screamed, screamed out loud at the top of your lungs as he pushed inside you. Too deep, too hard, too rough, too fast.

Waves and waves of stinging pain rushing threw your body, making it convulse and shake, making you whimper and whine, you felt like you were being torn apart. You pushed at his shoulders, pressed at his chest, but his hips kept moving, rocking hard against you. Urging his hard length into you.

“So good,” he muttered between strained breaths. “So tight,” he panted. “All mine,” he growled.

His movements so rough and relentless, he seemed lost in his own pleasure. His eyes fixed on you, but not really seeing you, he seemed like he had forgotten all about you, your part in this, your existence.

“Rafe!” You screamed his name, screamed it at his face, screamed it so loud, your throat hurt.

His eyes flickered and he looked at you, really looked at you. And something changed in his features. For the briefest of moments, he paused, leaned down to kiss your lips, whispering something you didn't understand. And then you felt his fingertip touching that spot his thumb had teased before. Only now it wasn't teasing any longer. You didn't know how or why he knew exactly what to do, but that touch, that movement with his fingertip was all your body needed, all it craved for that moment. Your mouth opened wide as you moaned, then just gasped. The back of your head pressing into the mattress, your eyes rolling back. Your fingernails digging into Rafe's tense muscles at his back, as you were pulling him closer, ever closer, when that pain all of a sudden turned into pleasure, a painful, hot pleasure that left you in a state of rapture. Your body bending, trembling, shaking, as Rafe fucked you through your first ever orgasm.

You heard him groan, an animalistic sound. You felt your walls tensing up in waves and clenching so hard around him, making his thrusts only more ruthless, more forceful, as he took you, took all of you. And as the rush of your fierce high faded, you felt him so intensely. Felt him pushing inside you, filling you, feeling you, breathing on you, touching you, holding you, kissing you – it was like he was melting into you, when all of a sudden he stopped his movements, gazed down at you with hazy eyes, his features tensing up for a moment, and the next, the absolute opposite: all soft and lovingly, so sweet. He lowered his body onto yours and you felt his heavy panting syncing with yours. He kissed your face, breathless. Kissed your lips and after pushing into you a few more times, he pulled out and rolled his body off yours.

You kept lying on your back, next to him. Your legs still apart, knees bent. And you felt the cool breeze from the air-conditioning on your heated body, covered in a film of sweat, yours and his. And between your legs, you felt another kind of throbbing. And something sticky dripping out of you. You shut your legs and winced, rolling on your side, you turned away from him. It was as if reality hit you hard, and despite the fact that you still hadn't composed your breathing, despite the fact that your body wanted to remain in that blissful state, you felt a sudden wave of shame and guilt and something else that hurt even more, even deeper than the burning pain at your core.

At the touch of his hand, you flinched. You didn't want to, but your body curled up and you moved away from him, when in fact, you wanted nothing more than for him to hold you, to tell you that it was alright. That everything was exactly how it should be. That you were safe. With him.

Instead, you felt the bed tilt and you heard him get up and put on his clothes.

You moved your head so you could look up at him, look at him through teary eyes.

He stood in front of the bed, looking down at you. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to lie down again. Then his features hardened. A frown appeared on his brow. His hands balled into fists, his jaws clenched.

“Now you can lie about that too. When your boyfriend fucks you tonight, you can lie and say it is you first time.” His voice so cold, so hard, it took the air out of your lungs.

And you only exhaled when he had left your room and the door shut behind him and you cried and sobbed and wept.

a/n: this was kinda intense. Much darker than my recent fics. And so long. But I didn't want to rush it. I needed to write it as it is. I still hope you liked reading it. Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated. btw, it's my birthday today.

xx

[flamingpudding]

Part 4 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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How to catch a baby brother

Richard 'Dick' Greyson had a problem. It wasn't a nuclear level of problem but it also wasn't a paper cut level of problem either. Because apparently he had a baby brother no one in their family but Damien knew about. Granted Damien had confessed that said baby brother was dead and had supposedly died eight years ago.

The explanation that Talia had apparently pulled another Jason was not helpful at all. According to Damien, in response to Tims findings, there was no other way for the twin to be alive other than Talia having preserved his body and then decided after eight years to drop it into the pits. Well lets just say his opinion on that woman if it was already down in the depth it certainly was now.

Which, considering the glowing Lazarus green eyes, could mean that there was now an eight years old child running loose in the Bat Cave with Pit Madness. Not just a simple feral eight years old that looked like perfect B adoption material and so happened to be blood related.

"Guys we need a plan. We can't just let our little teethling run loose."

"Richard, do not refer to my brother as little teethling." Dick only grinned. "Well the little biter needs a nickname and until I find something else fitting its teethling. Or do you have a better suggestion?"

Sweet little Baby Bird was now glowering at him. Oh protective were we, his little brothers definitely were the cutest. He was definitely going to tease sweet little Dami about this later once the first phase of new little brother crisis was over. For now they had to find the little guy first. The Cave wasn't exactly childproof.

"Let's use Jason as bait." Tim suddenly suggested causing the second oldest to grimace. "The little guy apparently likes biting him. We could use that as an advantage."

"Absolutely fucking not." Little Wing disagreed and Dick chuckled in good humor.

"Aw come on Little Wing, this is your chance to make a bond with our new baby before any of us can."

"For once I agree with Todd. Absolutely not, who knows where he has been. I will not have my brother become sick from biting him." He would have cooed at this, if Jason's face change from surprise at the agreement to a purely offended scowl wasn't so funny.

"Okay no biting bait. But we gotta draw out the little guy and calm his Pit Rage." If that feralness the kid displayed had even anything to do with Pit Rage.Considering the glowing eyes though he would think so. Dick eyed Jasons for a moment, he didn't seem to be affected at all nor had he said anything about the Pit being upset or feeling anything strange. So maybe the little guy wasn't suffering to an extrem from it? But he had apparently been brought back by a Lazarus Pit, so the likelihood with their experiences so far was slim.

"Well we gotta find a way to secure the little guy before B comes back or Alfie finds out." Jason mentioned still scowling at Damien. "By the way, I want to be here when you guys tell B about this. I wanna see his face and make fucking sure the little biter won't be turned into another kid soldier."

"Jason." He scowled, this was definitely not the right time for that sort of discussion but he had a point, they needed to find little… what had Damien said his name was? Wait did Damien even tell them the little guy's name? They all had just been using nicknames so far.

"Dami, what's the little teethling's name again?"

"I haven't told you yet." Ah okay so he didn't have a hole in his memory. "It's Danyal, but when we were younger he didn't like the way grandfather and our teachers called his name and insisted on being called informally as Danny."

"Okay right, so we better find little Danny and get everyone together to introduce-"

"Might I ask who this 'little Danny' is, Master Dick?"

He did not scream. But his heart rate shot up with Alfred just appearing behind him like that. Really sometimes Alfred could be as bad as Cass in the ways of sneaking up on people without them knowing.

"Alfred, hey hi what are you doing down here?" He was not nervous, no he wasn't. The way the butler narrowed his eyes at him did definitely not scare him at all, nope.

"I was informed that all of you returned uninjured." Though his eyes narrowed at Jason's hand that got cut earlier and his brother instantly tried to hide it behind his back when he noticed Alfreds eyes on him. "But the four of you, despite having returned to the Cave, have not come up yet. So I was merely checking on you, to make sure nothing was wrong after all."

He gulped. Really there was no way of ever hiding anything from Alfred.

"Jason brought a child to the Cave that we found out is Damien's twin that had died eight years ago but was brought back to life and is now feral and hiding somewhere in the cave."

At least it was Timber that blurred out everything they knew so far.

"His name is Danyal." Baby Bird added and the four of them waited for Alfred's reaction.

"I see. I will go prepare one of the rooms then and inform Master Bruce to return sooner from his meeting with the Justice League then. As well as prepare for a family dinner as soon as possible, I assume. Will my help be needed in finding young Master Danyal?"

"No worries Alfie, I think I have an idea on how to draw out the little shiiii-biter. You made cookies, right?" Jason at the last minute corrected his words because of the look and Dick couldn't help but snicker.

"I indeed did. If my help is not required then I will be on my way."

Giving them all one last look over, the Butler smiled before he turned to leave. Dick, Tim and Jason let out a sigh in relief once Alfred had left again to which Damien only eyed them strangely.

A little while later Jason went to get the cookies and came back with the plate and staring at a green post-it note. "Since when does Alfie stick green post-it notes with cryptic shit on plates?"

"What?" His brother only shrugged offering the note to him. Tim was looking over his shoulder at it and the two stared at the strange writing.

"I think Cass or Steph might be pulling a prank on us? These look just like random squiggles."

"Let's leave this for later and look for the little teethling." He passed the note to Tim, noticing the curiosity in his eyes. Oh boy, he probably should make sure his little brother gets some sleep instead of trying to encrypt whatever was written on that little note all night.

"Now everyone lets take a cookie, resist eating it and go hunt down our little teethling."

Damien narrowed his eyes on him. "I told you to stop calling Danyal that." The little baby bird still took a cookie though and marched away into the bat cave. They had separated wandering through the Bat Cave trying to cover as much ground as possible and by this point Dick was ready to call for Cass to join them, maybe even wake up Duke just so they would finally find the little kid.

That was until a familiar yowl of pain resounded in the Cave. The direction made Dicks stomach sink once he remembered just what was in the Cave in this direction. "Jason!"

Once he arrived there he feared for the worst. Jason avoided the area, because B had placed their Lazarus Pit there and his brother had often said that it was one of the reasons he didn't like coming to the Cave that much anymore let alone into this area of the Cave. To hear his brothers shout of pain from that area couldn't mean anything good.

Well that was until he got to the scene. Dick didn't know how long he stood there frozen but at some point he knew he took out his phone to take some photos of what was happening. Tim was already laughing and Dick was pretty sure that Babs was most likely recording this with one of the many cameras B had in the Cave.

Jason lay with his back on the ground, with one hand his brother was still holding the cookie waving it desperately before Danny's face who was biting down on the other arm sitting on the downed vigilante's chest. Little hands gripping onto the arm in an attempt to make sure no one was taking his chewtoy away from him. Meanwhile Damien was trying to lift the little biter off Jason by holding him with his hands under the kids armpits.

"You little shit! FUCK! Come on, here is the cookie! Take the fucking cookie! OUCH FUCKING HELL! How is he resisting Alfies cookies!"

"Danyal, No! You do not know where Todd was or how dirty he is. Let go of his arm this instant. We do not want you to get sick!"

"Hey!"

This was gold, Dick decided, and would go straight to the black mail as well as family memories folder.

[nyx-is-missing]

Graceland too

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Athena's kid)

Sumarry: When a certain daughter of Athena felt unappreciated her whole life, someone was there to see her.

Warnings: Sad girl hours, shitty parenthood, hurt/comfort because im no monster and probably other things wich i forgot.

a/n: look who is back!

Demigod.

Half blood.

Half a goddess.

Half a human (?).

And yet, fully a disappointment.

When Athena sent me to my Dad's house, in a golden crib, dressed in pure white dress, glowing, how the myths would expect a demigod to be, then, and only right then i was a gift.

A piece o divine love, something to prove to him, till the end of his life, that at some point, he was good enough for a Goddess.

But days after, immediately, i was just a crying baby, hungry, with a busy father, without a mother, and that only made him remember that, that was it.

He wasnt good enough for her, she wasnt staying, she never even actually even considered, he would never have that kind of honour, only a crying baby he never expected.

I wasnt a gift anymore, it actually felt like i was a insult, everything about me started to enrage him.

And oh, how did he reminded me of that every single day of my existence.

When i got diagnosed with dyslexia all i've heard whas that Athena gave me up to him because i was defective, when i couldnt sit still during classes, and exploded with all the repression i suffered everyday, suddently i was a clock bomb, when my grades where great, i was never rewarded, it was "the least i could do, to make up for the shame that i was".

I was never loved, never wanted, never encouraged, at least not by him.

The very little love i've known in my life, i own to the people who felt pitty of me.

The teachers, the neighbours who have heard the insults, the stray animals who could sense sadness, the very old grandparents who never actually saw me more than twice a year, and the people who worked at a nerby library, who let me stay past closing time, leaving only with the cleaners.

I was 12 when he had enough and sent me to camp, literally the very day school was over.

I came home to my clothes packed and him waiting by the car keys.

Being in camp for the first time, was also the very first time in my life i have ever felt....normal.

Not good, not bad, not great, not terrible, i was one, and that was enough.

I spend that summer being quiet, i sat in the corner, i didnt spoke, i didnt interrupted, i didnt had any ideas, i wasnt good enough to do that, thats what i've been told my whole life, thats my true.

It took a whole new summer for Athena to claim me.

I have always wondered if she was fighting with herself, if she had any problems having to admit that she made a mistake, with me, or with him.

It didn't matter, for the first time i had brothers and sisters, who wanted me, who understood when i wasnt the best, who asked for my graded tests, to put up in the wall.

They understood when i was hard to crack, when i insisted in being quiet, when i wouldnt share my ideas, they understood it all.

I didn't.

Each and every new summer i spent there, all i could ask myself was:

Why could i not be great like all of them?

Why im still afraid?

Why i was still useless?

Im now sixteen and the same questions still were unanswered.

And today i felt worse than ever.

It was my birthday, and i havent got a single letter from him, nothing, nothing.

It felt like he was saying i wasnt worth anything again.

Earlier, i tried to pretend nothing was happening, smiling with my siblings, finally making plans for capture the flag, finally belonging like i promissed i would try to do that year.

My plan was used, it wasnt perfect, but it was used, and surprising myself and the other team, we won.

I could see the other team confused, and Clarisse cussing us to death.

Still i was so happy, for the first time in my life i showed myself, and i worked....partially.

The happiness of victory didnt last much in me, because i saw a new brother of mine almost bursting to tears, he was young and just got claimed a few days ago, he wasnt used to that, and he wasnt supose to get hurt, but the red that painted his arms said otherwise.

I couldnt stare at him without feeling like i failed again.

Why couldnt i be perfect for once?

I took him to infirmary and held his hand while he was getting his stiches, saying sorry all the time.

I tried thinking it was okay, people get hurt, move on.

I had diner, i took a bath, i tried to sleep, i couldnt.

The tears were falling down and i knew i wouldn't be quiet.

So i got up and walked to the cabin's porch, sitting on the last step and letting my head fall to my knees.

Why couldnt i be great?

Why couldnt i be in peace with myself?

Why couldnt my mom bless me?

Why couldnt my dad love me?

Why did he had to be so mean?

I was a kid for fucks sake.

"Are you okay?" I heard someone saying, that made me freeze, that voice was not from any of my sisters, was i crying so hard i woke up someone from other cabin?

"I- yes, sorry i didn't knew i was crying so hard to wake people from other cabins, im sorry"

"You didn't, i was sneaking out to train some more, and saw you, our cabins face each other"

That was...Clarisse?

I wiped my tears and look up, she was staring at me with a almost worried look

"Clarisse?"

"Yes, why are you crying?"

She sat down by my side, dropping a sword in the grass.

"Its nothing really, im fine, you dont need to bothe-"

"No, cut the crap" she stopped me mid sentence "no one ever weeps in the middle of the night out of happiness, you are not fine and im not letting you lie OR leave until you tell me what it is"

We stare at each other, and ill need to thank the night light being bad because i probably look like crap right now, im sure my eyes are red, my nose too, im probably with a very swollen face and id bet all the dracmas i own that my hair its no better than a nest of birds.

"Go on...tell me"

I layed myself in the stairs, looking at the sky, trying to think of a way to tell everything, without sounding crazy

"I dont deserve to be here, Clarisse."

"Here..where?"

"This cabin, i dont deserve to be called daughter of the goddess of wisdom, i dont deserve being here with them, my siblings they are great, more than good, great, they will do great things with themselfs, amazing writers, architects, brilliant musicians, historians, why am i here? Im not even good, why im with the great?"

"Wait wait wait" she made me sit down again and look at her "not even good? What are you talking about? Wasnt the strategy in the last capture the flag yours? Yall won, and if somebody asks me later i've never said this but that was good, some really good strategy, i was almost thinking of asking chiron to switch you teams, you were great, more than that, and now you're here telling me you are not egen good? Are you on drugs?"

"Clarisse you dont need to pretend you care that much, and my plan wasnt all that, my brother got hurt, that wasnt supose to happen, i failed him, if i was good enough he wouldnt even be there"

She had a very confused look on her face, like she really did not knew what i was talking about.

"You're not talking about the little boy you took to the infirmary and that small cut in his forearm are you? Cause that boy was far from almost dying like you are making it sound like-" she looked at my eyes, i didnt needed a mirror to have sure how i was, i've seen myself like that too much to count, everytime my dad said i wasnt good enough, sad, lifeless.

"I failed again Clarisse, im not good enough to be here, im useless, worthless"

She looked at me and did the last thing i tought she would, Clarisse hugged me.

"Dont say that, c'mon, worthless? I've seen you fight, i've seen your plans, you dont talk much but i've heard your ideas, you are far from being useless or worthless, who the fuck told you that?"

"My f- you heard me?" I looked at her, only to see a look i couldnt distinguish "what do you mean?"

She looked at her own feet, then at her sword, reflecting the moonlight.

"You really dont know?" She looks at me "i- well, i've heard you, the same way i see you everyday, thats how i know you like morning walks, sweet green grapes, baked goods...how i know you are probably the only child of Athena who has never read "the art of war", that you walk without looking at peoples faces....its weird, i've seen you so much throughout this years and it feels like this is the first time you are actually seeing me"

"But i've saw you before-"

"Thats not what i was saying, you looked at me many times, but did you ever saw me until today?"

I looked at her blinking, and after a moment of silent i said "you like dark chocolate, and lemon flavoured soda, and sneaking out to train when the harpies take their breaks, by the way you missed that, and you always ask for double the quantity of food you eat, so when you burn it you still can eat enough, by the way i stole that idea-"

She is smilling, big, really big, i think i am too.

Of course i saw Clarisse, who wouldnt, she was strong, brave, beautiful, to me was a wonder she didnt had people running to get her attention.

She got closer to me "does that mean i can-" i stopped her mid sentence again

"Maybe..."

"Im going to make you forget that "im not good enough" nonsense, belive me"

She is smilling while kissing me, and i am too.

[slytherinn-xo]

St Alban's Local- Steph Catley

Steph Catley X Primary School Teacher! Katrina Gorry Sister! Reader

Synopsis: A cute morning café run sends you and Steph viral when Lorraine gets there.

1172 words.

It was definitely weird being an Australian in England, the difference in temperature. Having a cold Christmas. A warmish summer off from work. 

Following your footballer fiancée half way across the world and finding a new job in England as a Primary School teacher. 

But one thing I couldn't get my head around was the telly over here, and the British obsession with morning television, and these talk shows like Lorraine, This Morning and Loose Women. 

Not that I got to watch any of them as I was either at work already dealing with classes of up to 35, 5 year old children. Or in the holidays I took lie ins very seriously as I refused to leave the bed I shared with Steph until at least 10 o'clock no matter how much she tried to get up she wasn't moving either. 

So it was a surprise during the School Holidays, when Steph was able to drag herself, me and our giant dog Calvin out of the house and to Mulberry's Café. Mulberry's Café was literally the only place you would find me in a morning. 

The owner of the cute little café was such a cute lady, and she was also Australian, she felt like she was another mother to me. And she loved it when I brought in Calvin or Harper. But DO NOT and I mean DO NOT bring in Kyra or Katie. 

Why? Because last time I came in with either one of them just after Kyra moved here, Kyra broke two mugs somehow, and Katie is ............................ Irish and that's enough of a reason for Mrs Mulberry. 

But really I loved going to this little cafe on our morning walk with Calvin, as we get to sit in the little garden with him, and he gets to have a few biscuits with a bowl of water. 

So for once when I get there with Calvin and Steph in tow, as I swing open the door to the cafe, the bell jingling into the open space. 

"Mrs Mulberry!" I cheer as I see the older lady, going to give her a hug as she leaved the counter unattended to on this empty morning for her. 

 "Kaitlyn!" The older lady cheered out to me with a smile, hugging me as she kissed my cheeks lightly. "And I've told you it's Dot." 

"Dot, it's so nice to see you for once." I finally told the older lady as she held my cheeks in her hands with a smile. Having a little moment with my mother figure over here. 

"Yeah I was finally able to drag her out of bed!" And Steph just had to ruin it. Really this was a sweet moment and now she ruined it. 

"Oh shush you, you're no better!" I turned and finally spoke to my fiancée as I pointed at her, as she held Calvin back from jumping onto Dot. 

"Come on girls, now give me a hug Steph my girl." Dot finally turned to Steph and held her arms out wide for her to walk into for a moment. 

"It's lovely to see you Dot." Steph told her with a smile as she looked at me and locked eyes with mine over the shoulder of the lady as she stuck her tongue out at me. 

"Stop it you!" I told Steph pointing at her a cheeky smile on my lips, with Steph coming over to stand by me, with her hand in mine. 

"But......." Dot told us both with a smile as she looked at us both. 

"Oh no what do you want?" I asked her as I leaned my head on Steph's shoulder, as Calvin was finally let loose to go over to the older lady, as he jumped up at her. 

"Oh yes, good boy......." Dot focussed on Calvin for a moment. "Oh yes. We have Lorraine coming to the café this morning to interview someone about what they would do with 100, 000 pounds." 

"No." I just muttered. 

"And I said I would find someone for them, and since you're here, they're going to be here any minute, and I need someone for them to film." Dot told us both as she finally gave Calvin his biscuit. 

"I'm in St Alban's today and going to see what the locals would do if they won big this Autumn." The woman told the camera. Before it panned over to us two and Calvin. 

"Well we got engaged last New Years so we'd save it up for the wedding I'm sure." Steph told the camera with a nod. 

"That is a lot more expensive them we thought." I added in with a nod, and luckily that was all we would have to do. 

But what we didn't know was that over the next few days the clip would go viral for Steph being called a St Alban's local, but also as I was finally showed to the public with Steph. 

Our relationship has been private but not secret. Like the public know who I am if they follow Steph or any of the Aussie gals but this was different. 

A lot of WOSO fans knew who I was now. 

But my kiddo, my students all over the school, parent's included also knew. And I knew it would be a bugger coming up this Monday, with the kiddo's coming back to school. 

And this was the first reaction when I came back to school on Monday morning, and the kiddo's we're running in, like they had all planned to come in all at once and just bombard me with questions upon questions. 

'Miss Miss were you on the telly yesterday!' 

'Miss Gorry why were you at Mulberry's Café yesterday?' 

'Miss are you seeing Steph Catley the footballer?' 

'Miss why are you a St Alban's Local if you're Australian?' 

"Guys, breathe and we'll do this one by one, now hands in the air and I'll get you through all of this!" I told them all as they went to their assigned seats around my class room. 

"But first in case this covers your questions, I am currently engaged to Steph Catley Arsenal and Matilda's defender." I told all of the kiddos with a smile. "She proposed to me last New Years, and you guys should all be excited, because thanks to me, we've got our guests coming in next week." 

I has organised a day next week on their day off, and some of the Arsenal girls had agreed to come in and visit us all and have a fun day at the school for the kids. It wasn't just my class but for all of the year groups. 

"But Miss, who proposed to who?" I heard one of the kids asked, and honestly I wanted to laugh. 

People think the kids wouldn't accept this or would ask inappropriate questions but really they didn't care, and I was just happy they didn't ask me about how I looked as I looked so tired and dead in the clip. 

[heavyhitterheaux]

Ghost Part 1

AN: everyone ignore the fact that it took me almost a year to finish this lol

Synopsis: You're an OnlyFans model that gets pregnant by none other than Jack Harlow, who runs at the first sign of taking responsibility for his actions. But soon enough, his responsibilities get to be too much for him to ignore

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

'I'm a good girl'

At least that’s what you told yourself 

But good girls didn't go to school by day and were a cam girl at night.

However, you were 

It was only for a little while

Just until you finished school

You needed a way to pay for it somehow

Besides the money was good and it kept a roof over your head

You admit that this wasn't your first choice in a career path obviously, but you had to do what you had to do in order to survive.

You had been in foster care since you were 9 because your parents and brother passed away in a car accident while you were the lone survivor

Your grandparents were older and they couldn't take care of you so that's when you went into the system 

Your aunt which was your mother's sister and your mother didn't get along and she said that there was no way in hell that she would take you and that you were someone else’s problem

I mean she did have five kids of her own to take care of, but to be that cold hearted to a nine year old?

You admit that you had survivor's guilt and would do anything to have all three of them here with you. But you knew that they would have wanted for you to have the best life that you could possibly have and that you were going to make sure of it. 

But if they were here, then maybe just maybe, your current life would be different.

You had dreams of becoming a preschool teacher since you were diagnosed at 15 with PCOS and you were told that your chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. It definitely hurt because since you didn’t have any immediate family left, that you wanted to have as many as you could. 

But you figured if you couldn’t have any of your own that you would teach them instead. If you could plant little seeds into their minds that will be able to set them up for greatness then you were all for it. 

You put on your newest lingerie set that was gifted to you by one if not your favorite supporter you would say who went by the name Mr.Missionary and was setting up your camera in order to get the perfect view.

One thing about you is that you never showed your face

Only thing they could see was from the neck down

You did that on purpose because the last thing you wanted was for someone to know what you looked like.

It wasn't the fact that you were embarrassed of what you did, but you wanted to remain as anonymous as possible so for the future, your career wouldn't be impacted. You could only imagine what would happen if someone found out what you had done in college when you were teaching their small children. It probably wouldn’t be good and the next thing that would probably happen is you being out of a job. 

You saw time and time again that happening to different people and that's one thing you did not want to deal with.

But, back to Mr. Missionary

He was a sweet talker and knew exactly what to say.

It all started with a message from him asking you if you were comfortable showing your face to him.

Since he had been supportive of you since day one, you figured why not. But also told him not to share any of the photos that you sent him to anyone else. 

So your jaw definitely dropped when you answered the incoming facetime call and was staring back at no one other than Jack Harlow.

The two of you would talk every week and you mentioned one time how you had never been off the east coast before and would love to go. Only Fans did pay well now that you had a lot of subscribers, but it hadn’t always been that way. However, you really only used the money for school and to make sure that you had a place to live. 

The semester had just ended and you weren't taking any classes during the summer so Jack offered to fly you out to L.A. to spend a week with him while he was recording new songs and you quickly said yes. 

This would happen periodically, him flying you out to different cities to meet him all summer long and soon you found yourself getting ready for the new semester to start.

You had about another year to go at Howard University in D.C. until you graduated with your degree in early childhood education while your friend Nadia was majoring in business administration.

The two of you met your freshman year and had been close ever since when you had to take a few prerequisite classes together.

She was from Louisville and was a big fan of Jack, but you didn't bother telling her what had happened between the two of you.

You signed an NDA anyway.

And since she had gone home for the summer, she had no reason for the thought to even cross her mind. 

But when you just so happened to go to your OB/GYN appointment you had gotten a huge surprise.

You were pregnant and apparently had been for three months.

Your period was irregular and you would often go for months without getting one so you thought nothing of it.

The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment was call Nadia and couldn’t help but to blurt it out.

"I'M PREGNANT!"

"Well first of all hello to you too and WHAT?!”

"I can't get pregnant! At least that's what I was told. They told me that when I was fifteen!"

"Well apparently you can. How far along are you?"

"Three months apparently and I had absolutely no idea. I wasn’t craving anything, no morning sickness, no nothing. None of the usual symptoms."

"Oh so when the semester ended, those legs were open for business, huh?"

"NADIA! BE SERIOUS PLEASE." You said while pacing around your bedroom. 

"Well, who's the father? Did you tell him?"

"Sooo, this is probably going to sound really bad." You muttered while pouring yourself something to drink.

You couldn’t see Nadia’s face, but you could just imagine how it looked. 

"I mean, how bad? You're an adult who can do what you want."

"Ummm…. He’s one of my supporters for my cam show."

"Y/N!!!! IS THAT WHY YOU WERE FLYING EVERYWHERE THIS SUMMER!? YOU WENT TO SEE HIM DIDN’T YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN?"

"Um, maybe and well, I didn’t die."

"What do you mean maybe?! It's either yes or no! And you didn’t die, but now you came back pregnant!”

"Uh, then yes."

"You need to tell him NOW. It’s his responsibility as much as it is yours."

"I will and then I'll call you back." You said while sighing. 

You didn't have enough courage to call him, but you needed to. It was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. 

You knew he was busy and decided to text him first.

You- Hey, call me when you get a chance 

Jack- I will right before I go to sleep tonight. Hopefully I can get another private show 😉

You didn't even bother responding and just waited for your phone to ring while working on assignments you had to do for class instead. 

Another thing you had to worry about now was graduating on time since you were now pregnant and would be due at the start of the last semester before you graduated. 

It was around 11:52 pm when your phone finally rang indicating an incoming facetime call from Jack.

"Hey pretty girl. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you.”

"Hey. It's okay, I was just studying while I waited.”  You quietly said and Jack was immediately eyeing you knowing that something was wrong.

"You okay?" Jack curiously asked while looking at your solemn expression.

"No, not exactly." You quietly responded while starting to fidget as you closed your textbook that was in front of you.

It was now or never.

"What's going on?"

You took a deep sigh before the words left your mouth. Might as well get it over with.

"I'm pregnant." 

Jack immediately went quiet and pinched the bridge of his nose before he said anything.

"I thought you said that you couldn't get pregnant and I always wore protection every time just in case."

"I thought so too and obviously you didn't."

"How do you know it's mine?" You immediately rolled your eyes.

"Didn't I spend basically the entire summer with you?"

"Some of it, not all of it. I don't know what you were doing when you weren't with me." Your jaw had hit the floor. He had some nerve.

"Don't do that. Why would I lie?"

"I'm being honest. Don't get mad at me for telling the truth. And why would you lie? Because I’m a millionaire the last time I checked, that’s why. Sounds like you tried to trap me." 

"Look, I just want them taken care of. AND EXCUSE ME? TRAP YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"

"I still don't see what that has to do with me and yes trap me, you heard me the first time."

"Seriously? How could you even say that? I have given you no reason to think that about me."

“Well people can surprise you, everyday. Until I get a paternity test, I'm not believing anything."

That was about three years ago and nothing has changed since then.

You were basically a single mother and Jack popped in occasionally when he wanted to. 

Which wasn't often. 

You were struggling living on your own with no support system in D.C. and Nadia had convinced you to move to Kentucky to be near her so she could help out as much as she could. Her business was finally taking off and she told you that you could find a teaching job at one of the elementary schools since they were hiring for preschool teachers.

When Jack found out that you had moved to Louisville he was not only convinced that you trapped him, but now you were stalking him too.

He had no idea that you were in this by yourself, literally. No help from family or anything.

You could count on one hand how many times Jack had seen Ace since birth and you came to the conclusion that you were probably going to be a single mother and stopped asking him for anything. The last time that he had talked to you was almost two months ago. During that three minute conversation he didn’t even ask how his son was and he only lived less than fifteen minutes away from you.

After the paternity test was done and Jack was proven to be the father, he had accidentally left the paper out on the table and no one other than his younger brother Clay found it. He had questioned Jack about it and because Clay was holding the obvious proof in his hands there was no possible way for him to back out of it. Clay then took it upon himself to reach out to you because he wanted to meet Ace. He met him when he was a month old and at that time Jack had only been to see him once. Because of how he acted, you knew early on not to put his last name on Ace’s birth certificate.  

After moving to Louisville, you met two of Nadia’s close friends, Blaire and Liv. Blaire was a baker who had her own bakery and would have breakfast waiting for you every day for you and Ace before you dropped him off at daycare and went to the school to teach while Liv taught kindergarten at the same school where you were. All four of you had become extremely close, but none of them knew who Ace’s father was. 

Because you signed an NDA, all you ever told them was that he really wasn’t a part of his life and that you were doing this all on your own and they accepted that as an explanation, but it was only a matter of time before they found out the truth. You knew that they would all look at him differently because they were such big fans of him. Plenty of times they had asked you to go to his concerts with him, but you steadily declined, but they never questioned why. 

All Jack did was send money to help with daycare and that’s when he actually remembered to do it. You got a discount since it was actually in the same school as where you taught, but it was still expensive. Especially on the salary that you got.

It was currently almost four in the afternoon and Jack was supposed to pick Ace up to spend time with him and you were hoping that they would be able to spend more time together. You knew that his career was demanding and he was at the height of it, but you just wanted Ace to have a relationship with him. He told you that he would be coming around 2 and that he would take Ace to the Louisville basketball game later with the rest of PG and spend the weekend with him. 

From what you knew, Urban was the only one who knew about Ace and was guessing that this would be his opportunity to tell them. You sighed as you looked at your baby waiting at the door with his little backpack on wanting to see the moment his dad was going to come through the door. 

After a while, he just sat down and sighed which made your heart break.

“Mommy, daddy not coming is he?” He quietly asked you and all you did was sigh.

“We just have to wait and see, bub. Maybe daddy got busy and got caught up with doing something.” One thing that you were tired of doing was making excuses for Jack.

“Does daddy love me?” He looked up at you with tears in his eyes and you quickly sat down next to him and slid him into your lap.

It took everything in you not to cry right then and there, but immediately pulled out your phone to call him.

“Of course he does. Here, baby. Let’s call him to see where he is.”

You didn’t know if you were trying to convince Ace or convince yourself.

You put the phone to Ace’s ear and Jack actually picked up on the third ring which you were surprised by.

“Hello?”

“DADDY! Where you at? Still coming to get me?”

“Oh, hey little man. Um, something came up, but I promise to get you another day.”

“But you promised you were coming today. You said that last time.”

“I know, bubs but I’ve just been so busy.”

Not wanting for the conversation to go on any further, Ace handed the phone to you with tears in his eyes, threw off his backpack and ran down the hallway into his room.

“Ace!” You called after him, but he continued down the hallway. 

“Are you…..? Are you serious right now?! You made him cry because all you do is fucking lie to him and to me!” You took a deep breath before letting him have it. 

“Y/N, please don’t fucking start.” You heard him say before sighing and you could hear cheering going on in the background indicating that he was already at the game.

“Oh, I’m going to fucking start because he has been excited for this all week! Why would you bail on your son like that? You did the same shit last time. You begged me to come and see him and when I told you what time would work best, what did you do? Not even bother to show up. Either you want to be in his life or you don’t and you need to make a decision. Tired of my child constantly being disappointed in his father.”

“Look, I’ll talk to you later.” Jack said and then hung up without another word leaving you fuming from your conversation. 

You simply got up while grabbing Ace’s backpack and made your way to his room. Once you opened the door, you found him laying down with his head resting on his hands just staring off into space.

“Ace….”

“Mommy, can we just go to the park?” He asked not even mentioning what Jack had done.

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want. I also think that it’s a perfect day for ice cream. What do you say?”

At the mention of ice cream, Ace immediately perked up and eagerly nodded his head.

“Can I get chocolate chip cookie dough?”

“Whatever my Ace wants, he gets.”

Upon hearing this, he immediately smiled and you were happy that you could take his mind off of what his father had promised him, at least for a little while. 

Two weeks had passed and you were rushing to get both of you out of the door and to Blaire’s bakery for breakfast so that the two of you would at least have something on your stomach for the busy day ahead.

You had sent a text last night to Jack asking him to send you money for daycare for the month of October, but he never responded leaving you frustrated because you literally now only had 24 hours to come up with the money otherwise you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do.

Your Only Fans was still active, but that was a last resort.

While driving to the bakery, Ace fell asleep in the backseat when you decided to call him.

“Yes, Y/N? What now? I’m busy.”

“Good morning to you too. Did you get my text last night?” You asked after rolling your eyes at how he greeted you.

“Didn’t I just give you money for daycare? Why do you need more already?”

“You see, Jackman….”

“Don’t call me that.”

“That’s your name isn’t it? Given to you by your parents?”

“Look, what do you want? I’m in the studio.”

“No need to be rude. I need more money for daycare. I have to pay it every month.”

“Why the fuck is it so expensive? Got damn a round trip to L.A. is cheaper.”

“I don’t know, but I already get a discount and I have to pay it by tomorrow so can you just send it to me?”

“1600 dollars?!? That’s the discounted price? You have got to be fucking kidding me. They act like you have six fucking kids. He’s one person.”

“Just… can you do it or not? I wouldn't ask you unless I absolutely had to.” You asked, hating that you even had to do so.

“Yeah, I’ll send it and you better be using it for daycare and not something else. Because if I find out you did, you better not ask me for it again. Anything else you want to bother me about?”

“Ace is in the car. Do you want to say good morning to him?”

“Not really. I’ll call him later. Bye.”

“I-....”

Jack hung up without another word and all you did was shake your head at him and how your three year old is more well mannered than he is.

Once you pulled up to the bakery, Blaire met you outside on the curb and immediately ran to your window with a bag of food as well as two drinks. A hot chocolate for Ace and her specially made coffee for you. You swore that she put jet fuel in it and as many times as you asked her for the recipe, she never told you. 

It literally allowed for you to stay energized throughout the day and didn't even want to know how much caffeine was in it.

She handed you yours, while she opened Ace’s door and handed him his.

“Thank you, Auntie Blaire.” He quietly said before taking it and you looked back at him to see that he was pouting and Blaire immediately asked him what was wrong before you could.

“Daddy didn’t say good morning to me when he talked to mommy.”

Oh.

So he was awake.

“I’m just sure he was really busy. You can try calling him later once you get home, yeah?” She said to try and get a smile at him, but all he did was nod his head.

So much for getting a good start to the day.

Ace had been upset the entire time he was in daycare even when you went to go and check on him and brought a cookie as a peace offering which he wasn't excited by and thought that making his latest favorite dinner might take his mind off of it. 

You never in a million years thought that Ace would love to help you cook, but here you were. He told you that he wanted to be a chef when he grew up, so you obviously set him up with everything that he might need.

He told you on the way home that he wanted to make chicken parm with noodles so you stopped by the store to grab the ingredients.

Ace was wearing his apron that you had gotten him as a gift for his birthday which said Chef Ace on it and standing on his step stool to add salt to the boiling water for the noodles while you were finishing cutting up the chicken and about to start making the breading for it.

He didn't bring up for the rest of the day what had happened with Jack earlier, but you had a feeling that it was coming and more than likely it would be around bedtime. But for now, you were simply going to focus on spending time with your little one.

“Ace, do you want to grab the Italian seasoning for mommy to use?”

“Yes!”

He promptly moved his step stool to be in front of the spice cabinet and climbed up when there was a knock on the door.

Ace had handed it to you and stepped down before going to get a sip of juice out of his sippy cup.

“Be right back, bubs. Remember don't touch anything without mommy being in here with you. We don't need you getting hurt.”

“Okay, promise.” He quickly answered before taking another swig of his juice as you went to answer the door to come face to face with Nadia,  Blaire, and Liv.

“Heyyy. Blaire told us baby daddy troubles this morning sooooo…. We brought wine and lemon cake that Blaire made for Ace.” Nadia said as she held up the wine and Liv held up the cake and all three of them were smiling back at you.

“You guys didn't….”

“Shut up and let us in. Yes we did and what is our little chef making tonight?” Liv asked as you moved to the side and let them in while closing the door behind you.

“Chicken parm and salad and Blaire’s cake can be added to that now.”

“HI AUNTIES!” You heard Ace as he ran full speed towards the four of you.

“Auntie’s baby!” Nadia exclaimed as she opened her arms to engulf him into a hug.

“Food should be about done in another thirty minutes.”

“Well until then, we have the wine to keep us occupied.”

After gushing over how good the meal was along with Blaire’s lemon cake, Nadia pulled out her phone and shoved it towards you.

“What am I looking at?” You asked her as Ace had climbed into your lap.

“Jack Harlow and his No Place Like Home concert. I thought I would get tickets for all of us to go.”

Ace then peered at her phone and got a confused look on his face.

“Oh, that's daddy!”

Silence.

Looks of shock.

Looks of disbelief.

Nadia, Liv, and Blaire knew how intelligent Ace was so they didn't think that this would be something that he would lie about all while trying to wrap their heads around it.

When no one said anything, Ace turned to look at you.

“Are we going to call him before I go to sleep?”

“Um, sure bubs. We’ll call him. Do you want to go and pick out a book for us to read tonight before we do?”

He eagerly nodded before hopping down off your lap and heading to his bookshelf in his bedroom.

All you did was sigh and wait for the interrogation to begin.

Nadia was first.

“Y/N!!!!! I…. WHAT!?”

“Do not say anything because the last thing I need is him finding out that other people know.”

“He is a literal ASSHOLE to you and Ace. The mother of his son and his actual son. All the shit that you’ve told us he’s done!?! Or hasn't done for that matter.” Liv exclaimed as she poured herself another glass of wine.

“So that's who was flying you out that summer?”

You simply nodded.

“Y/N…..”

“Look, I don't need the looks of pity. I’m fine, my son is fine and that's all that matters. We’re going to be okay with or without him.”

Blaire who had been quiet the entire time simply shook her head.

“I can always call my brothers to jump him.”

“NO, BLAIRE!”

“The offer still stands. Just say the word.” She replied while shrugging.

“I know how you three love his music so get the tickets and have fun. Me and Ace will be okay.”

“No. One band, one sound bitch. If you have beef with Jack Harlow, so do we.” Nadia said while crossing her arms. 

“Come to think of it… Ace does look an awful lot like him.”

“All I can do every day when we go out is pray that no one notices. I have to protect him and it’s sad that I actually have to do it from his father.”

It was around 7 PM when you had finished giving Ace a bath and had finished reading the book that he picked out earlier to him when he asked to call Jack.

“Can we call daddy now?” He asked looking up at you hopeful and all you did was give him a small smile.

“Of course we can.”

You grabbed your phone and attempted to call Jack on facetime while handing it to Ace.

All it did was continuously ring and you saw the pout on Ace’s face become more pronounced.

“Maybe, he’s just busy, bubs.” You quietly said before you took your phone back and the look of disappointment across his face broke your heart.

“He’s always busy, mommy.”

“But, at least you get to spend the day with him tomorrow! That’s something to be excited about. Do you have any idea about what you want to do?”

Jack had begged you to come and get him tomorrow to make up for not taking him to the basketball game with him and as much as you felt that he was going to go back on his word, but you were willing to give him another chance. But the chances were slowly running out.

“No, I’m just sleepy.”

“Okay, let’s get tucked in so we can sleep.”

Once you had gotten Ace settled, you went into your room and logged onto your banking app to see that Jack in fact did send you the money to pay for daycare and you let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize that you had been holding. 

Ten minutes later, you got a text from him.

Jack- I’ll come and get him tomorrow. Be there around nine. 

Hopefully this was a way for him to redeem himself for not showing up the other day and prayed that he would follow through. 

You were tired of seeing your child disappointed. 

The next morning after getting Ace ready, Clay came to get him and you would say that you were surprised that it wasn’t Jack, but that would be a lie. Ace was still excited to see Clay, so the last thing you wanted to do was upset him. You got to have a full day to yourself which you hadn’t had in a while.

Your time was spent going to the mall, seeing a movie, and even going to your favorite restaurant by yourself.

You made sure to soak this all in because you didn’t know the next time that you would be able to get another opportunity to do this and spend your time and money on yourself.

It was around 5 PM when Clay dropped off Ace who you could tell was still on a sugar high since he was running around the apartment and not able to keep still for three minutes when you got on the topic of Clay’s brother since you knew that it was inevitable. 

"Clay, I have given him chance after chance to do right by him and he literally disappoints me and him every time." 

"I know and I'm…."

"No. Do not apologize for him. If he could have just seen his face when he promised to come and get him to go to the game with all of you and to have a cooking date and he didn't show. Like my baby was bawling with tears running down his face and asked me does daddy even love me? Clay my heart can't take too much more of this. This has been going on for way longer than it should have. My son is my entire world and he deserves a father in his life that wants to be consistent and be there for him. I don't think Jack will ever get there." 

"So I guess I shouldn't tell you that he still hasn't told our parents about you or Ace?" Clay asked while scratching the back of his neck.

You then looked at Clay in disbelief as Ace came up on your left side and lifted his hands up to indicate he wanted to be picked up by you or his uncle and Clay quickly did. 

"Your brother is just full of surprises isn't he? You're more of a father to him than he is."

"Reality hasn't hit him yet."

"It doesn't take three years. It's just crazy how you were the only one who welcomed him with open arms, but then again you had already saw the DNA results so you had no choice but to believe me. I guess Jack never thought in his wildest dreams he would sleep with a cam girl and end up with a kid."

Just then your phone went off indicating a text from the man of the hour.

Jack- Y/N, I know you're mad at me but I promise to get him next time.

You- Don't even worry about it. Once again your little brother is stepping up and doing what you should have done. So much that he actually called him dad the other day. Think about that.

You saw Jack would start texting and then stop indicating that he didn't have a good comeback for that one.

How could he?

It had been a quick slip up a few weeks ago by Ace, but Clay simply brushed it off and thought nothing of it. You remembered him saying to Ace, ‘Well we do look alike, don’t we?’ And he quickly agreed.

And just then your phone went off indicating Jack was calling you.

"What?" You asked as you rolled your eyes.

"I'll be outside in 20 minutes and I want to see my son."

Once you hung up, Clay turned to you and asked you what he said.

“He said that he wants to see him, but my thing is that if you really did want to see him then you would have gotten him earlier. The last thing he better do when he comes in here is make a scene.”

Twenty minutes didn’t even pass before you heard knocking on the front door and you immediately rolled your eyes before getting up to answer it.

Once you did, Jack was clearly annoyed and was looking right past you to see where Ace was.

“Where’s my son?”

“Oh, so now he’s your son? Are there certain days of the week that you claim him or?”

“Y/N, I’m not doing this with you right now, where is Ace?”

“He’s with your brother in the kitchen if you must know and you better not go in there and make him upset.”

“Now, why would I make him upset?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Since all he knows you’re good for is disappointing him.”

Jack didn’t even bother to respond as he walked past you to come face to face with Clay playing with Ace.

Once Ace saw him, he quickly ran to hide behind Clay.

“Bubs, it’s me, daddy. No reason to be scared.”

All Ace did was peek out behind Clay’s leg who was trying to also tell him that it was okay.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t come and get you today, but I promise that I will next time.”

This led to Ace shaking his head no and holding onto Clay’s leg tighter.

“Ace, what’s the matter?” Jack asked seeing as Ace had never acted this way towards him before.

“Daddy, you forgot about me….. Again.”

“I… I didn’t forget. Daddy’s just been really busy, but I’m here now.”

“Maybe if you actually showed up when you were supposed to this wouldn’t be happening.” Clay snapped at Jack as Ace quickly ran to you and you picked him up as he hid in the crook of your neck.

“Clay, I already get it enough from Y/N, I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“Well obviously you do, because hearing it from one person obviously isn’t enough! Now, why is your kid calling me daddy? Oh, right. Because his real dad actually ignores him.” Clay said while raising his voice at his older brother.

“I DON’T IGNORE MY SON!”

“WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU ACTUALLY SPENT TIME WITH HIM? I’VE SEEN HIM MORE TIMES SINCE HE’S BEEN ALIVE THAN YOU HAVE!”

At their heated exchange, Ace began to cry and you knew that you needed to put a stop to this immediately.

“Okay, you two, we’re done. Jack, get out.”

“If I leave, I’m taking Ace with me.”

“You are not taking MY son anywhere. Can’t you see how upset you made him? And I told you once you step foot in here not to upset him and you did the exact opposite. Just leave. You've done enough.”

Jack had let out a frustrated sigh as he was contemplating his next move. He stepped towards you, but was immediately blocked by Clay stepping in front of you.

“Just do what she asked you to do and leave.”

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[corroded-hellfire]

Sight for Sore Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Summary: With both of Eddie's sons having respective issues at school, you feel more a part of the family than ever when all of the Munsons want you by their side.

Note: I thought this up in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep, now here we are. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, dad!eddie, older!eddie

Words: 5.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

It’s family movie night in the Munson house, but unlike most other quality times with you and the boys, Eddie can’t focus on the film that’s playing on the television. Ryan brought home yet another disappointing progress report. Not only is that unusual for his eldest son, but it’s also frustrating because when Ryan comes home to do his homework, he always understands it. Be it you or Eddie who goes over it with him once he’s finished, both of you can confirm that the kid knows his stuff. So why are his grades suffering?

At first, Eddie was concerned that Ryan was being bullied. He had brought up to you the idea of teaching Ryan how to fight, but you insisted it would be better to talk to Ryan’s teacher and see if she noticed anything. Mrs. Renner told Eddie that she had not seen anything out of the ordinary, but she would keep a special eye on Ryan. After two weeks of observing Ryan and other students throughout the day, she was able to report back to Eddie that everyone seems to like Ryan and he had no problems with anyone those entire two weeks. It was a relief, but Eddie was back to square one. 

Possibilities still running through his mind like crazy, Eddie absent-mindedly rubs his thumb across the small strip of your skin exposed as your t-shirt rides up. 

“My powers are beyond your mortal imagination. For instance, my eyes can see straight through your armor. Oooh! All right, that's it! Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Make a note of this. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, dis…”

The small, red dragon's rant barely registers in Eddie’s mind as his eyes trail over to Ryan, sitting on the other side of you. His son’s face is all scrunched up as he looks towards the television, his small body even leaning as forward as he can in his seat. Eddie’s brows furrow as he watches Ryan for a few moments, and the boy’s facial muscles don’t move at all.

“Uh, bud? Ry? Can you see the TV okay?” Eddie asks. 

“It’s kinda blurry, isn’t it?” Ryan asks, scrunching his face up to squint even more. “Is it ‘cause it’s an old TV?”

You swivel your head towards your boyfriend and the two of you share a knowing look. Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief, a simple solution to an issue that’s nagged at him for weeks may be within reach. 

“It’s not blurry,” Luke blurts out from his place on the floor in front of the couch. His Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle coloring book is flipped open in front of him, half colored and half covered in butter stains from the six-year-old’s fingers that keep digging into the popcorn bowl. “TV’s fine,” Luke follows up, spewing a few kernels out of his full mouth. 

Movie pushed from your mind at this new revelation you may have stumbled upon, you turn yourself on the couch to face Ryan better. Eddie adjusts his arm that was around you to simply wrap his arm around your middle and lets his fingers glide softly over the cotton of your t-shirt. 

“Um, Ryan?” you ask, watching his adorable little face as it pinches up this way and that to watch the animated singing soldiers on the television. “Where do you sit in your class?”

Now Ryan’s face just scrunches up in confusion; to him, this question came out of nowhere. 

“By the bulletin board and the bathroom key hanging on the wall. Right behind Lorraine Poe,” he says.

“Oh, sweetie, no, I meant, like, towards the front, towards the back…” you trail off. 

“Kinda middle I guess,” Ryan answers with a shrug, turning back towards the movie. 

Eddie lets out a gentle sigh and you lean your body back against his. His large, warm hand rubs over your belly for a moment as he watches his son’s profile.

“Can you see the board okay?” Eddie asks. “At school?”

“Sometimes,” Ryan answers, the song in the movie pulling most of his focus. 

“Sometimes?” his dad questions.

“Yeah. Sometimes my teacher writes so small that I can’t always see what it says, though.”

You frown and tilt your head down onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“Have any of the other kids said anything about her writing being too small?” you ask. 

“No.”

“Ry?” Eddie clears his throat. “I think maybe we should take you to an eye doctor.”

This captures the eight-year-old’s attention back from the screen. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. It makes your heart ache at how small and vulnerable he looks like this, the fear of going to the doctor evident on his cherubic face. 

“Why?” he asks softly. 

“Well, it sounds like you’re having trouble seeing. The board at school is blurry, the television here is blurry,” Eddie points out. 

“I don’t want to go.” Ryan shakes his head.

“Why not, sweetie?” you ask as you reach forward to move some hair off of his forehead. 

Ryan’s fingers start to fidget where they’re pressed up against his jeans and he begins to gnaw on his lower lip—a few nervous habits he picked up from his father.

“What if there’s something wrong with my eyes?” he asks in a small voice. 

“Ryan, honey.” You lean forward out of Eddie’s grip so you can wrap your arms around the eldest Munson brother. “There is nothing wrong about needing some help to see. Plenty of people do.” You hold him against your chest and rub your hand up and down his arm soothingly.

“I don’t want glasses,” he mumbles. 

Being a kid is hard enough already. Add how soft spoken Ryan is and add new glasses on top of it, and you can understand where he’s coming from. Some jerky kids might say some mean things. But that’s not a reason he shouldn’t get his eyes checked out. 

“Hmm,” you muse. “You know, I can think of a very special little boy who wears glasses. He’s probably the coolest kid there is besides you and Luke.” 

“Who?” Ryan is clearly curious, but still hesitant about where you’re going with this. 

“You don’t know?” you ask him with a smile. “You only read about him every night before you go to bed.”

Ryan gasps in delight, sitting straight up in your arms. 

“Harry Potter!” The excitement on his face has your heart gushing from the inside out.

“The Boy Who Lived!” you cheer. “He’s a super powerful wizard and he needs glasses to see.” 

A shy but genuine smile starts to appear on Ryan’s face and Eddie subtly gives your waist a small squeeze of appreciation. 

“There’s also Superman,” Eddie adds. 

“Clark Kent wears the glasses,” Luke corrects his father, eyes never leaving the TV. You do your best to hold in a giggle; wherever Eddie’s geeky knowledge ends, Luke’s begins. 

“And Clark Kent is Superman,” Eddie says, picking up a piece of popcorn and tossing it at the back of Luke’s head. 

Ryan seems more at ease now, his body posture more relaxed and less rigid as he settles back into the couch cushions. You go to snuggle back into Eddie’s side when Ryan looks up at you with those big brown eyes that are identical to his father’s and slips his small hand into yours. 

“Will you go with me?” he asks, voice soft.

You could almost cry at the question. He wants you to go with him. The love and trust he has in you in this moment of fear and uncertainty means the world to you. Eddie doesn’t miss the emotion on your face at the comfort you bring to his son. He knows he’s so lucky to have you, the woman of his dreams, but the fact that you and the kids wholeheartedly love each other as well? It’s enough to make Eddie tear up any time he thinks about it for too long.

Before you give Ryan an answer, you look at Eddie, wanting to make sure that this is okay with him and that you’re not overstepping. Eddie gives you a nod, his eyes shining with pure adoration.

“Of course I will, Ry.” You press a kiss to the top of his head, and he then lays it down on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he answers, just loud enough for you to hear.

There’s no reason he has to thank you. This moment, this trust and love he’s giving to you as a parental-type role means the world to you. You’re clearly not the babysitter anymore—you’re their dad’s girlfriend, but a new relationship is blossoming between you and the boys as well. The strong ties that always bonded you and the kids are being bronzed, never to fray or be broken. This is starting to feel in the neighborhood of motherly and it feels more amazing than you could have imagined. 

Ryan keeps his hand in yours the entire time you sit in the waiting room of the tiny optometrist’s office. The fact that you’re his comfort in this situation has you practically beaming enough to be one of the models on the posters that surround you of people who are overly excited to have a new pair of glasses. Ryan has always loved and felt safe with you, but this is different, and you both know it—even if neither of you know how to put it into words. 

“Ryan Munson?”

His small hand is surprisingly strong as he grips yours like a lifeline at the sound of his name. Before you stand up, you lean in to whisper in his ear.

“I’m going to be right next to you the whole time. I promise.”

The words have Ryan loosening his vice grip just enough that you’re able to feel your fingers again. The two of you are led into a small office that has model after model of the human eye and a large chair directly in the middle of the room.

“You must be Ryan,” the doctor says as he steps into the office and shuts the door behind him. He’s an attractive man with a kind smile, right around Eddie’s age. “I’m Dr. Barnes. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Ryan gives him a nervous smile as he climbs into the large chair. “Nice to meet you too.”

You take a seat in a yellow hard plastic chair near the door and the doctor turns around to introduce himself to you as well. After he shakes your hand, his attention goes back to his patient.

“Tell me a little bit about what’s been going on with your eyes, Ryan,” Dr. Barnes says as he sits down on a rolling stool. 

The boy shifts in the large chair, the nervousness still very prevalent. “Um, well I-I haven’t been able to see the board very good at school. A-And at home the TV is all blurry.”

“Well, we definitely have to fix that!” Dr. Barnes says with a sympathetic sigh. “Gotta be able to do your work at school and then come home and watch cartoons. It’s a good thing your mom brought you in.”

You freeze, half a sputter coming from out of your mouth because you don’t know what to say. It’s a logical assumption on the doctor’s part, but if you let it slip by without correcting him will Ryan think that’s weird? If you correct the doctor will Ryan take that as meaning you don’t want to be called his mother? Or would Ryan feel like you’ve crossed a boundary if you just go on letting Dr. Barnes think that you’re his mom?

“She’s the best,” Ryan says, saving you from speaking at all. The anxiety immediately leaves your body at his words. The way Ryan smiles at you from his chair while the doctor sets things up has your heart soaring. His look practically says, yeah, I said you’re my mom because that’s what I want.

Somehow you manage to keep it together without crying—you’ll do that in front of Eddie later. Dr. Barnes turns out the main lights and puts a focused light on an eye chart just above your head. You watch as he tests Ryan’s vision by looking at different charts and signs full of numbers and letters of all sizes before he lowers the phoropter in front of the eight-year-old’s face. Ryan almost goes cross eyed trying to look at the machine as it gets closer to him, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I’m gonna show you two different lenses and you tell me which one is clearer while looking at that chart. Sound good?” Dr. Barnes asks.

“Uh huh,” Ryan says as tries to find the right angle to look into the machine. His voice is much steadier now. 

“One or two?”

“Uh…one.”

Multiple strengths are tried out and it seems like Dr. Barnes asks Ryan to pick between “one and two” about a million times. Even you’re getting fidgety in your seat by the end of it, so you can only imagine how antsy Ryan is. 

It was pretty evident to you that Ryan would end up needing glasses, but the little boy looks less than thrilled when the two of you head back out into the main area so you can find some frames.

After spotting a few pairs that he likes, Ryan starts to find it fun, seeing which ones look better on him and which ones make him look silly. In the end, he settles on two different sets of frames—which Eddie already said he’s cool with because he’d bet good money that one pair would either get lost or broken before the year is out. 

As you’re paying, Dr. Barnes makes sure the copy of Ryan’s prescription is all filled out before he hands it to you. The paperwork comes with a smoldering smile from the optometrist, and as flattering as it may be, it still makes you feel a tad awkward.

“I suppose I’ll see you back here in a few weeks, huh?” Dr. Barnes asks, directing the question at you instead of Ryan.

“Oh,” you say, caught off guard by the flirting. You look down and shake your head, but you see your ringless hand and understand why the man probably thinks you’re a single mom. “His dad,” you start, wrapping your arm around Ryan’s shoulders, “he, um, my boyfriend will probably be the one coming here to pick up the glasses with Ryan.”

“Ah,” Dr. Barnes says with a nod. “I guess I’ll see you soon then, Ryan.”

You look down to see Ryan squeezing his lips together, trying not to laugh as he nods his affirmation. He clearly understands what just happened and his expression makes it difficult for you to keep your laughter held in as well. 

The glasses will be ready in about two weeks and the little Munson doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he has to wear them anymore. 

After the eye doctor, you take Ryan out for lunch at Schoop's Hamburgers, just the two of you. Both of you order milkshakes and you hold a finger up to your cold lips.

“Don’t tell Luke or your dad, they’ll be so jealous!”

Ryan just giggles and takes another sip of his strawberry shake while trailing an “X” over his heart with his right index finger. 

“Daddy’s taking me to pick the glasses up?” Ryan asks as you’re throwing away your garbage.

“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug. “Depends on our schedules that week. But I have a feeling your dad will want to be the one to take you.”

“Because the doctor wanted to kiiiiiiss you?” Ryan asks in a mischievous little voice that you’d expect from Luke more than him.

“Yes,” you acquiesce with a chuckle. “But I’m sure he’s just as excited to see what your new glasses look like.” But it’ll definitely be mostly about Doctor McFlirty, you think.  

When you get home, Eddie’s at the kitchen table, looking over some bills. As soon as you and Ryan walk through the door, Eddie pushes it to the side and stands up.

“Hey, how’d the appointment go?” Eddie looks back and forth from you to Ryan, not sure which one of you will speak first. 

“He did great,” you tell Eddie, throwing a wink Ryan’s way.

“I picked out some glasses and they’ll be ready in two weeks!” he proudly tells his dad. Then his eyes light up and he lets out a small giggle. “And the doctor wanted to steal your girlfriend, Daddy.”

“What?” Eddie’s immediately defensive and looks towards you, eyebrows raised.

You can’t help but giggle right alongside Ryan at Eddie’s expression. “He tried flirting with me, but I told him I was with you.”

“He was bummed,” Ryan adds.

“I’m taking you to pick those glasses up,” Eddie tells his son, jabbing his thumb into his t-shirt clad chest. 

“You were right!” Ryan says with a laugh, looking over at you. 

“Do I know your Dad or what?” you ask as the two of you high five one another. 

A couple of weeks later, the glasses are finally in. Eddie takes Ryan by the office after he gets off work to go pick them up. 

The smell of roasting garlic fills the air as you make dinner and Luke is watching television when they get home. Ryan bounces in, excited about his new glasses. There’s a proud gleam in his eye as he stands in the middle of the entryway, taking in the view of the apartment clearly for the first time in a while.

“Let me see, let me see!” you say as you step out of the kitchen. “Aw, Ry! They look even better than the display ones you tried on at the store!”

The rectangular black frames complement his dark eyes and honey brown hair. You’re overcome with how handsome of a young man your little Ryan is turning into. 

Luke kneels on the couch cushion and turns around to see his brother. 

“Lemme see.”

Ryan does a one-eighty to show his little brother. All Luke does is give him a thumbs up before he goes back to watching The Fairly Odd Parents.

“It feels kind of funny,” Ryan tells you, rubbing his left eye beneath the glasses. You can already see fingerprint smudges on the lenses and you’re grateful you remembered to buy lens cleaning cloths the last time you went grocery shopping. “What does? What feels funny?” you ask.

“Seeing things that are far away!” he says, both excitement and a slight bit of irritation in his usually calm tone. “Almost makes me a little dizzy.”

“Doctor said that’s normal,” Eddie says, resting his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Your eyes will get used to them real quick, then it won’t feel that way.” He raises an eyebrow and looks at you. “And this doctor also seemed a bit nervous around me.” 

You giggle and bound over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “He’s threatened by what a wonderful, sexy man you are.”

“Gross,” Luke mumbles from the couch.

Soda almost sprays out of your nose at Eddie’s story about a difficult customer who came into work this morning, when one of his co-workers pops his head into the breakroom.

“Hey, Eddie,” he says, rubbing a hand over his bald head, leaving small streaks of grime behind. “There’s a phone call for you.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says. He crumples up the tin foil you brought his sandwich in and tosses it in the large trashcan behind him. Not in a particular hurry, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms over his head. He smirks and presses a quick kiss to your lips when he sees you checking him out. Your gaze continues to look him up and down as he takes the few steps over to the phone on the wall. 

“Hello?” Eddie asks.

The chicken sandwich lying on the table in front of you looked good when you first arrived to have lunch with your boyfriend, but now that you’re full it looks as if it’s taunting you. Crinkling fills the room as you pack it back up in its foil. Just as you’re lifting your can of diet Dr. Pepper to your lips, Eddie’s face clouds with worry and he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll be right there,” he says into the phone. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, slipping your leftovers into your large black purse. As Eddie hangs the phone back up, you walk over to stand at his side, careful of getting your clothes dirtied by his coveralls.

Instead of answering you, Eddie lets out another sigh and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Gimme a second, baby.”

You watch, confused, as Eddie steps across the hall into his boss’s office. There seems to be a short, quick conversation before your boyfriend comes back out and slips his hand into yours.

“It was the school,” Eddie tells you as he leads you towards the exit and out into the parking lot.

“Are the boys okay?” you ask, feeling your heart rate pick up as you walk briskly towards his truck. 

“Luke’s in the principal’s office,” Eddie tells you with an agitated huff. “He got into a fight.”

“He what?” Your eyes almost pop out of your head. “Is he okay?”

“Just a little banged up, according to the principal,” Eddie says as he opens the passenger side door for you. 

“Poor baby.”

Long strides lead Eddie around his truck, and he situates himself in the driver’s seat. He gives a humorless chuckle as he starts the engine.

“Wayne wasn’t fucking kidding when he said Luke is a little version of me.”

“First of all, we all say that,” you tell him. “Second of all, you fought at school?”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a soft laugh as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Remind me to tell you some stories when we get home.”

When you get to the school, you and Eddie practically jump out of the truck and head towards the building. Once you’re both inside, you feel rough calloused fingers tangle with your own. His eyes are straight ahead but you can tell Eddie’s nerves are on edge as he gives your hand a soft squeeze.

Luke is sitting on the bench outside of the principal’s office, his legs dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth. He’s watching his black and white sneakers disappear beneath the wooden seat before reappearing again, taking no notice of you coming down the hall. Only his profile is visible from the angle you’re approaching from. 

“Luke,” Eddie says as the two of you walk up to him.

The young boy jumps off the bench and turns to face the two of you. You’re startled to see his eye already bruised and purpling, along with a small cut on his bottom lip. There’s the instinct to pull him into your arms and take care of him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. But Luke’s grinning up at the pair of you; a stark contrast to the evidence of the brawl on his face.

“Oh, hi! They told me they called Daddy, but I didn’t know both of you were coming!” The excitement on his face to see both of you is adorable yet seems out of place since he must know he’s going to get in trouble. 

“Luke, what happened?” Eddie asks at the same time that you ask, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine,” Luke answers your question with a shrug. “My hand hurts more than anything.” The boy cradles his right hand against his chest and it’s the first time you see his scraped and bruised knuckles.

“What happened?” Eddie asks again, this time with less patience. 

Luke’s eyebrows furrow, a little “v” creasing his forehead. The pride from the fight vanishes from his eyes as he recalls the situation. 

“Stupid Trevor Brown opened his big fat mouth on the playground!” Luke says sternly, even louder than he usually is. “He said to Brandon Simpson that Ryan’s glasses made him look like a loser.”

“So you hit him?” Eddie asks.

“No, I told him he better shut his damn—uh, dang mouth. Trevor just laughed and said Ryan was a nerd! Then I hit him.”

Eddie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes closed. Secretly, he’s proud of his son for sticking up for his brother, but he has to compose himself so he can tell Luke he shouldn’t have done that. The paradox of being a parent.

“Luke, you should have told a teacher instead,” Eddie tells him. “Hitting someone is not the way to shut them up.”

“Well, punching him in the mouth did the trick,” Luke points out. 

You try not to laugh, covering it up with a cough. Eddie’s better at keeping himself composed but you know he would be grinning if he could.

A door squeaks open and the principal steps out of his office with another young boy, a huge bruise blooming on his jaw and dried blood caked under his nose. Luke definitely came out the winner of the fight. 

“You sit here and wait for your mom now, Trevor,” Principal Andrews says, gesturing to the bench Luke was just sitting on. “Ah, Mr. Munson. Thank you for coming.”

“And this is his girlfriend!” Luke announces proudly, coming to stand in front of you. The small boy is wiggling his way out of any trouble with you by seeming so thrilled to have you there and showing you off proudly.

Eddie nods his head at the principal, ignoring Luke, and shakes the man’s hand. You gently pat Luke’s curls, hoping he takes the hint to shut up.

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Eddie says, and you silently wonder how many times Wayne had to say that to Eddie’s principal growing up. “This one is in for it, I’ll tell you that.” Eddie nods his head towards Luke. “Can someone just let Ryan know Luke won’t be on the bus coming home?”

“Of course,” Principal Andrews says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke. We’ll be better behaved then, won't we?”

Luke turns to head down the hall without answering, but Eddie grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls him back. He puts his hands on Luke’s shoulders and spins him around until he’s facing the principal again.

“Luke,” Eddie warns him.

“Yes, Principal Andrews,” Luke says in a monotone, eyes on the shiny white linoleum tile below his sneakers. Deciding he’s done with talking, he slips his smaller hand into yours, deciding he’d rather hold your hand than his father’s right now.

“Thanks again, Principal Andrews,” Eddie says before the three of you walk down the hallway towards the exit.

It’s utterly silent until you get into Eddie’s truck. You’re not sure what to say, because this is between father and son. Eventually, you decide you’ll just be a referee if it comes to that. 

Eddie silently pulls the truck out of the parking lot and starts to head home.

“Luke,” Eddie finally says after seven minutes of terse silence. It feels like he’s said his son’s name about a hundred times already today. “I don’t like that you hit someone. But I am proud of you for sticking up for your brother.”

In the rearview mirror, Eddie can see how Luke grins at that, which makes Eddie smile in turn. 

“I wasn’t gonna let those buttheads talk that way about my brother,” Luke says. “I know I’m not s’posed to hit—I do. But if someone says something about a person I love, I just get so mad, and it comes out all violent.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, loud enough for only you to hear. “He is my mini-me.”

When you get home, you take Luke into the bathroom so you can clean up and bandage his wounds. His knuckles are still sore and stinging when you finish, so he sits on the couch with a bag of frozen corn on them. Eddie plops down next to him as you lean against the wall between the bathroom and living room, wiping off some antibacterial ointment that you accidentally got on your own hands.

“You know I have to punish you, right?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at his youngest son. 

“I know,” Luke says with a sigh. 

“I want you to go in your room until dinner time. Try and work on your homework if your hand starts to feel any better. And no dessert after dinner tonight.”

“And then?” Luke asks, looking up at his dad nervously, afraid of how long he’s going to be grounded.

“And then tomorrow you wake up, get ready for school, and keep being a wonderful brother.”

It takes a minute, but a smile slowly spreads to Luke’s face as he realizes there’s no punishment besides the minor consequences he’ll have to endure tonight.

“Now, go on. Get to your room,” Eddie says.

Luke gets up and heads towards the hallway before stopping and turning back to face his father.

“Don’t tell Ryan what happened, okay?” Luke says, wincing at the chill from the vegetable bag against his scrapes. “I don’t want him to know that someone said mean things about him.”

“I won’t tell him,” Eddie assures his son. Luke turns back towards the hallway, but Eddie calls him and he faces his dad again. “You’re a really good brother. Ryan is very lucky to have you, and I know he’d have your back too. I’m very lucky.”

“Aww, Dad,” Luke says, wrinkling up his nose. “So mushy. But… I know I’m lucky too. Always felt that having you and Ryan. Never with Mom though. But now I got someone pretty cool who loves me like I’m her kid and that’s even better.”

Luke continues down to his room and Eddie is filled with the overwhelming feeling of love. Love from the kind words from Luke—which are rare within themselves–the love that his two sons have for one another and that special bond, and love at the fact that Luke recognizes that you love him and Ryan as if they’re your own children. You practically see them that way anyway. 

You walk in from where you’re holding up the wall, emotional yourself over Luke’s words, and take a seat next to your boyfriend on the couch.

“How ya feeling?” you ask, bringing your hand up to play with one of Eddie’s stray curls.

“I’m so fucking proud of my son,” Eddie admits with a hushed laugh. “I know I had to tell him the whole ‘violence isn’t the answer’ spiel, but I would’ve done the exact same thing that he did. When I was a kid or even now.” 

“He’s such a good brother,” you say, an adoring grin on your face as well. 

Eddie wraps his arm around you, and you snuggle into his side.

“So, I believe you had some stories to tell me?” You tilt your head up to smirk at your boyfriend. 

Eddie chuckles and gives a shake of his head. “Oh, you better buckle up, princess. I’ve got some wild tales.”

[pynkgothicka]

Ｋｎｅｅ Ｓｏｃｋｓ ＫＮＪ

Pairing - Tutor! Dark! Kim Namjoon x AFAB! Reader

Synopsis-Based off Parasite, your korean teacher leaves to go on a work study trip, and leaves you with his best friend to be a replacement teacher. Part 2 of the movies series.

Featuring - Brandon Perea (Angel From Nope)

Word Count - Around 3k

Tags and Warnings - age-gap, manipulation, murder, fingering, tutor/student relationship

Authors Note - As you can probably tell, the stories are majority very loosely based on the stories with me throwing my own twists into it all. Also Joon is a conglomerate of all the Parks (the poor family) into one character! Enjoy:3

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“So you want me to basically be your substitute?”

Namjoon eyed his friend as he ate from the bowl of ramen in front of him. One of his old high school friends, Brandon, stopped by his apartment out of the blue. And of course, Namjoon was embarrassed, the place looked like a dump.

Which is exactly what it was.

A dump.

“Yeah, listen I know you're smart. And I know you need the pay.” Brandon said taking a bite out of his ramen. He used his chopstick to point at Namjoon. “Also I trust you man.”

Namjoon groaned out leaning back into his couch. “Trust me? With what? Don't tell me you got roped into something fucked up.”Namjoon complained. Brandon had that look in his eyes, Namjoon could tell when he was being shifty.

“So maybe I've kind of got something going with the girl, she's sweet, super sheltered, like the perfect girl,” Brandon says leaning back long with Namjoon. “I plan on asking her out when I'm back okay? I just need you to be so you man. All scholarly and shit.”

Namjoon thought about it for a minute. “How's the pay?”

“Around 500 a session. Trust me her family has the money to blow. They want the best and they trust me to have good recommendations. Also, the mom is a bit of an airhead anyway.”

“Fine, you're lucky I need to make rent.”

📖

You sat in your room bored out of your mind. Your mother told you that Brandon had found someone to continue your studies while he was away. You knew your mom was probably annoying the poor man downstairs. She had a habit of talking too much.

Curiosity got the better of you as you found yourself heading downstairs to your lavish mansion kitchen. You sat on the stairs, peering through the railing.

Your new tutor was handsome, slightly built with a buzz cut. He reminded you of men you see in movies, rich CEOs who would fall for their secretaries. Or even a dangerous boxer who has a soft spot for the ballerina.

Lost in your trance, your mom spotted you. “Oh! Sweetheart come down, Mr. Kim here would like to meet you.” You curse under your breath as you stand up and walk the rest of the way downstairs. Almost tripping as your socks slipped on the hardwood floor. You catch yourself walking over to the side of the island.

Mr. Kim looked at you for a moment before smiling. “Please call me Namjoon, Mr. Kim makes me sound old.” He said extending a hand. You take it and give him a slightly firm handshake.

“She'll call you Mr.Kim, respect always remember sweetheart?” Your mom cooed passing you a bowl of pomegranate seeds. You nod towards her as she smiles. “Okay now go study, Mr. Kim is a very smart man by the sound of it. If you need anything call me upstairs.”

You were already walking upstairs with Namjoon following close behind. You led him into your bedroom and sat down at your desk. You pull out the notebook that you and Brandon used. “Sorry if my mom was annoying you, she's ditzy like that.” You mumbled going to the practice test you were doing before Brandon left last session.

Snap!

You jump at Namjoons snapping right in front of your face. “I want you to focus. From what you're mother is telling me she wants you to pass with Korean as a foreign Language for college next semester correct?” You nod at Namjoon. You focus back in on the practice test.

It was a particular problem you stared at, and it was something you couldn't figure out. You were about to circle A but you were stopped by Namjoon grabbing your wrist. “Are you certain that's the answer?” He asks leaning next to you. You shake your head, no, your breathing rising in speed as his hand holds your own in place. “Then why are you answering it?”

“Because it's the next question?” You say your voice peeking as you finish the statement. It comes out like a question and more so it comes out as you being rude to him. You shake your head looking up at him. “Sorry… I mean… it's true I just didn't want you to take it as me being rude to you.”

“Focus.” He reprimands. “Look at the question and think again.” Namjoon let's go of your wrist and you reconsider the answer. It's D. The answer is D. You circle it and look back at Namjoon expecting a response. You're welcomed with a warm smile. “Very good.”

His hand digs into the bowl of pomegranate seeds and he pops one into your mouth. You blush as you feel the tips of his fingers touch your lips and the action in general. Not even Brandon did something that bold. “T-Thank you Namjoon.”

He gives you a warm smile, showing his dimples, something you just caught. “Good, now continue answering the rest of the questions, you don't want to do bad you're first day with me do you?”

📖

Once Namjoon got his pay and started his trek home he realized something. Brandon was right, you pretty much were the perfect girl. Just from one lesson, he realized he enjoyed teaching you something he's become so familiar with.

While he was lost in thought Brandon called him and Namjoon picked it up. “Hey, how was your first class?” Namjoon didn't want to tell him that he was secretly fond of the girl that Brandon liked and that he felt something for her as well so he chose to be as bland as possible.

“It was good. We just kind of reviewed what you guys already went over before.” Namjoon said crossing the street and walking into his apartment complex. He checked the mail seeing that he had nothing.

No one usually contacted him unless it was some bill.

“That's good, is she ok? I know I kind of left on short notice.” Brandon said into the phone. Namjoon hated that he felt indifferent towards Brandon's concerns. It wasn't really like him to see his friends whining about nothing in particular. “God I must've hurt her so bad.”

“I mean if she's hurt she didn't say anything about it, I mean I guess she was nervous,” Namjoon said entering his apartment. “I mean it's nothing bad for her to not be upset. Maybe she'll ask about you later?” God, he hated giving Brandon hope.

But Brandon took it as is. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate you doing this for me. Call you later.” And before Namjoon could even wish him goodbye the phone hung up in his face.

He let out a sigh before pouring a bowl of cereal. He wished you were there for him. You wouldn't have him eating this, you'd probably want him to eat better. Namjoon caught himself thinking in that way and he caught himself. He knew this would end badly. There is no other way it could go.

📖

Namjoon had taught you for about a month now, and you couldn't stop thinking about him. Even now as he sits next to you while you study what he taught you today, you couldn't help but fantasize about him.

You sat with your head down reading over the pages in your notebook. You poked your lip out, hoping he would notice you. It was fruitless of an attempt but you at least had to try.

“Namjoon, have you ever been in love?”

He looks up at you cocking a brow. “What does this have to do with Korean?” You look away at his question, keeping your eyes glued to the notebook. Namjoon takes his thumb and tilts your eyes to look into his own. “Look up here, Answer the question.”

Your eyes look away. “It was a dumb question, I shouldn't have asked it.”

“But you did. Why?”

You let out a sigh before responding. “Well, I was just wondering if you had, you don't have to answer it, I know it's off-topic.” You blabber on, Namjoon letting your head drop.

“Well, yeah of course. I'm 29, and I of course have had a few relationships. But they always just don't get it you know?” Namjoon rests his head in his hand, elbow resting on your desk. “They didn't want to change for the sake of our relationship. I guess I just have a bad taste in women huh?” He ended with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I mean what do you like in women…? I can probably be a good judge of character for you.” You add playing it off as being nice towards him. Maybe if he told you what he liked, you could change to fit his standards. Namjoon seemed to be a perfect man, and maybe you being almost 20 could be perfect in his eyes if you did.

He turned to look at you. “Well, I like my women of course pretty. Smart, shy, well… I mean that's too much already.” He said throwing his hand up to brush it off coyly. You put a hand on his thigh, looking into his eyes as to encourage him.

“Tell me, I want to know.”

“Well, I don't think it matters really. Unless you think that you're right for me.” Namjoon said leaning down to get closer to you. “Are you baby? Are you the right person for me?”

You nodded getting closer, your lips ghosting over his own. Namjoon does the final push, connecting your lips together. His hand goes to your hair, tangling his hand into it. His tongue brushed over your teeth, pushing into your mouth. You were messy, clunky, and unsure of what you were doing. As he pulled away, his chest rose and fell. “Do you think you love me?” He finally asks. “Is that why you asked me if I had ever been in love?”

“Mhmm, you're just so… amazing and wise… I've looked at you since you showed up in the kitchen…”

“Good, I think that you're amazing, and I want to see where this goes, I think you're the right person… the one I've been looking for,” Namjoon said before connecting your lips again.

📖

From that day on, every time you had a class with Namjoon, it was really spent cuddling and enjoying your time with the older man. Laying in bed, you two would usually talk about life, normally letting Namjoon talk and praise you. Maybe it was due to the fact you usually went along with whatever he wanted to do.

Like now.

You dug your nails into his arm, his hand dug into your panties, fingering you. He quieted your moans with his lips, you sitting in front of him, toes curling as they hang off your bed. “Joon…” You whine into his mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible. “It f-feels so good…”

His fingers curled, blunt nails hitting at your walls. “Yeah? Doesn't it feel good to be loved?” He said placing kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey to join new and faded ones. He usually couldn't keep his hands off of you, no matter what, usually liking for his hands to dig into your thighs, thumbs brushing over the top of your knee-high socks. But now he wanted to give you pleasure, something he called a gift since you two were together.

You nodded as you feel your cunt gush around his thick fingers. “Please let me cum… I need it, sir.” You moan quietly into his mouth. Namjoon only liked to be called sir when messing around. He told you that it made him feel empowered and that you being there made him feel so much better than usual. You saw nothing wrong with that of course, isn't that the role of a lover?

“Do it for me, baby, all over my fingers.” And you do, as soon as he says that, you throw your head back on his shoulder. You collapse onto him, Namjoon adjusting it to where you laid on him in bed. He stuck his fingers into his mouth, sucking off your juices. You couldn't help but blush. “You taste amazing, like always.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Are you still going to be able to make it to my party? I know my parents invited you and stuff.” You ask, hand playing with your boyfriend's cheek. Of course, coming from a rich family meant you'd have large parties for your birthday. It's not like you wanted them but, they also told you they invited your tutor who just so happened to be your boyfriend.

Namjoon swatted at your fingers, chuckling a bit. “Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. We just won't pretend to be a thing.” He says. You nod in agreement, knowing your parent's reaction would most likely ruin the party in general.

“Yeah… okay! We should have around 30 minutes left, and I really just want to nap.” You say closing your eyes and laying down your head. Namjoons hand stroked at your head soothing you to fall asleep.

📖

The day had come for your party, and Namjoon couldn't have been more excited. He put on a brand new suit, one he brought with the money he made from his newfound job. As he arrives at the home, he spots that people have already shown up and that it's an outside party at that. Namjoon walked towards the backyard patio, your father setting up a backdrop for pictures.

“Mr, Kim, just the man I wanted to see,” Your father behind raising up to hug the man. “I'm glad you made it, hey can you head inside to grab the champagne buckets? They should be in the cellar in the basement.”

Namjoon nodded. “Yes, of course, I'll be back.” Namjoon makes his way to the back door seeing a table of women who blew kisses at them. He smiled before going inside, taking his phone out to send you a quick text.

Namjoon: Just arrived! Ur dad is already putting me to work lol

Baby🤍: Oh goddd I'll get on him about it.

Baby🤍 Still getting ready though, so just work for him a bit until I finish. Luv uuuu!!!

Namjoon chuckled at your texts as he made his way into the kitchen.

“So when were you going to tell me you started fucking her?” Namjoon put his phone down to look up, seeing no one other than Brandon. He stood at the kitchen island leaning on it, a drink in hand.

“Oh, your back? I thought you'd be gone longer.” Namjoon commented before turning to head to the basement. He wasn't going to deal with Brandon and ruin his girlfriend's day.

That thought was before Brandon shoved Namjoon into a wall. Brandon held Namjoons shirt. “Don't play dumb with me, I went to see her. I was gonna gift her a letter and she said she already had a boyfriend. And I know the only dude she would see constantly was you. How could you? I asked you to do one thing and you couldn't even do that?!” Brandon said, getting in Namjoons face. He whinced, Brandon's forearm resting on Namjoons neck pushing down. There was no way he was going to die this way, not from Brandon's rage.

Namjoon pushed him off, then shoved him down the basement stairs. Namjoon stood there as he watched Brandon fall, head hitting the wood. He waited until the last thud, Namjoon slowly walking downstairs to see what he had just done. Once he reaches the bottom, Namjoon smiles, the sick sight of Brandon writhing on the ground groaning. A puddle of blood formed around him, the impact from hitting the concrete probably giving him a concussion.

The bottom of Namjoons shoes clicked as he made his way to the cellar. He took the metal branding tool used to mark the barrels. The sound of metal shrieked as he dragged it towards Brandon's beat-up corpse. “I'm sorry I have to do this, but you're in my way now. And we can't have that now can we?” Namjoon taunted raising the iron. Brandon's eyes opened slightly as he saw the iron come down on him.

Namjoon felt tears pour down his cheeks as he began to beat Brandon in.He coughed up blood, and Namjoon didn't stop beating Brandon until he was certain he was dead. Once he came to that conclusion he dropped the iron. "Why did you make me do that huh?!" Namjoon yelled at no one. "You ruin everything, god, im happy you're fucking gone."

Namjoon claimed himself wiping his eyes of tears. He got up and grabbed the champagne buckets. He looked back before heading out of the basement, locking the door. He lets out a sigh before leaving, not looking back. He had bigger plans now, and Brandon wasn't in them.

He couldn't be in them.

Namjoons eyes trailed over your form, stopping at your socks as you laughed with your family. Outside the patio, you see Namjoon carrying the ice buckets and wave him over. He smiles at you before signing and returning to his girlfriend who he plans to keep forever.

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33 @devilzliaison

[moonsaver]

I READ YOUR POST (and also anon!) ABOUT REBELLIOUS! VERITAS/RATIO, GOOD LORD..

Your writing is very good! And I like it! I'm having it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, everytime

BUT LIKE, LISTEN TO ME, WHAT IF S/O WAS REBELLIOUS LIKE HIM TOO. But not like actually him, just typical rebellious student back then. Like, breaking the rules, pissing off the teachers, etc

AND, HIS S/O IS LIKE NOW, NORMAL. A PROFESIONAL, and probably embarrassed of their phase back then. I do see them being Friendly and chilled with Ratio?? Or like "Oh crap, it's the old rebellious dude that tries to teach me random smart stuffs"

But in my opinion, I do see S/O just being like "Oh, what's up Ratio" and just being neutral. Greeting him whenever they passed by or see each other again, while also slightly joking about the things Ratio tried to teach them back then. As they told him that they actually listened to his teaching.. Even though it's.. Well, it's used by unsuccessful methods

BUT ALSO, YOU KNOW HOW XINYAN WOULD TELL EMBARRASSING STORIES ABOUT SHEHNE AND GANYU?

S/O WOULD DO THAT, telling Ratio old rebellious phase embarrassing stories to his students whenever they feel afraid of him. Like

"Oh, did you know that your professor (Veritas Ratio), used to talk so much about our teacher that just give the slightest wrong formula, to the point he keeps getting send to the office? Hah! I was there!"

As Ratio stood there with hidden embarrassed look, as he tries to hold the urge to not shut S/O up.

I'M SORRY IF I'M BOTHERING YOU, THE VOICES ARE COMMANDING ME... THE VOICES OF MY SIMPING FOR RATIO.

QNON ANON QNON!!!!YOU ARE FEEDING ME TOO I PROMISE YOU CAN BOTHER ME (its not even bothering me i love these asks),,, THE TENSION THAT IUST DISSIPATWS HAHAHA WAIT WAIT

Under the cut,might be long!

Soso, you're the rebellious kid who's butting heads with the other jerkwad, the only difference between you two is that he's just a nerd on top of being a rebellious kid. He's the "worst" of both worlds.

It's a very cliche enemies to strangers to acquaintances who respect each other to tension between possible lovers. Its kind of funny.

In your student days, I imagine the moment both of you see each other in the hall, you scowl at each other. Or make fun of something the other has. Maybe he's lugging a bulky art project and you make fun of him saying he looks like a turtle dragging his own shell. Maybe you left your bag's zip open and Veritas comments on how "devoid of knowledge" it is, "like your head" (you forgot all your books somewhere, your bag is completely empty). God forbid either of you tried something experimental and the other catches a glimpse of it. If they're not within talking distance, they'll shout on the top of their lungs. To both of you, the louder it is the more humiliation is involved. You'll find this method is often used by Veritas, as he openly quizzes you and chides LOUDLY that you're a BUFFOON and an IDIOT for not knowing a SIMPLE FORMULA. You decide to retaliate by stealing more than half his stationary, so now he has to scramble to gather extras and literally no one helps him cause he's a jerk lol.

Everyone on campus absolutely either hates it or loves it. Theres fanpages of you two with cringe edits,or those really well-made shitpost ones. Sometimes your classmates just bait the other to go a certain place just so you two cross paths and stir up a lot of trouble. The teachers are all done with both of you.

Cut to the future (or present?), reader's a professor too now. Let's assume either of them is unaware when they join the job (as implied by the request).

I imagine professor reader, if they manage to stay calm and just.. talk normally, it does give Dr. Ratio some whiplash. His pride demands he straightens himself out though, so it's not too soon before he himself drones on about some or the other tedious topic. You mention the past and how often you used to butt heads, and Veritas' first instinct is to immediately retaliate the way his past self would have done; but he stops himself in time, and sighs at it. You've painstakingly ingrained that response into him. But he's still slightly embarrassed nonetheless. It's not too soon before the conversation becomes more relaxed (I mean.. considering Veritas,as relaxed as he lets it be), and as a form of "nostalgia" he brings up all the questions he used to ask you back then, only to be pleasantly surprised when you give him detailed but professional answers. It's not too soon before he learns that you've become a professor aswell. Dr. Ratio congratulates you – with reservations of course, which is completely thrown out the window when you tell him you knew all of this because.. you listened to him.

Ugh. Don't make him feel so sappy. A part of him detests it; warming up and being all chummy with a hopeless classmate of all people. But a part of him is.. kind of happy about it.

Which is promptly changed the moment you also realize he's a professor now.

And that his students aren't spared from the nostalgia either.

He's bursting through the door, jaw dropped, angry and shocked face as you prattle on about how much of an asshole he was back in the day to his students. For a moment, he contemplates whether he should just throw chalk at you and make an example of you to his students, or drag you out. After a few seconds of paralyzed contemplation, he immediately grabs you by the back of your collar and drags you out before something else comes out of your mouth.

It's almost the same all over again – both of you bickering back and forth as he's all pissy about you spilling everything to his students! You've positively tarnished his reputation! Perhaps he shall tell your students how you used to walk around wearing a lanyard and a shirt with the institution name written on it in big, bold letters on the first day? Or that time you tripped and faceplanted right into the trashcan while you complained about his (axe bodyspray) deodorant?

Ugh.. he'll just deal with you later. Although he won't admit this even to himself.. it's nice seeing you again. He didn't think of that, it must be the headache you gave him that's making him think all weird.

--

[pspaura27-blog]

Uncle Sukuna!

Feat. Teacher!

After his graduation, Yaga asks if he wants to be a teacher, citing that he is strong and all, but Yaga actually prays that Sukuna will get a bratty student so he can suffer, too.

Sukuna doesn’t want to live in Sendai, Jin’s PDA with the damn woman and all, so he agrees.

Then, he meets his Karma, the triple S: Satoru, Suguru, Shoko. Urgh.

He is late 3 minutes to the first homeroom class and Gojo breaks the window in a damn fight with Geto.

“Now, who the fuck did that?!”

“Sensei, I—”

“Fuck, you know what? I don’t give a shit, go run laps, all of you brats!”

Gojo Satoru is very bratty, confident in his own strength, and he likes to flip Sukuna off. So, the two duel it out in the training ground.

Sukuna is old and he also wins(?) in canon, so he knocks Satoru to the ground and mocks him.

“Ha! So this is all the Six Eyes holder can do, huh? I guess you are fucking overrated, brat. Now, get your ass up and go do the fucking report!”

He regrets it later when Satoru wouldn’t leave him alone, determined to win against him one way or another.

Satoru seems like the type to knock his room at 3 in the morning for a round.

And he has to clean up after their mess.

The Star Plasma in particular. Sukuna knows it. Geto Suguru is as fucking reckless as his buddy, that’s a fucking apartment he blows up! And who deals with paperworks and those fucking elders? Him!

[[Sensei, it wasn’t me—]]

[[I’ll chop you into damn pieces, brat! Better be prepare for an F!]]

God, does this mean he fight with Toji?!

Sukuna is waiting at the gate for his students to return with Riko. Then, he lets Gojo get stabbed because—

“You didn’t see that, huh? That’s pathetic. You better train harder if you wanna call yourself the strongest.” Sukuna scoffs and throws him to Geto. “Get out of my way, brat.”

“…” Riko thinks she knows where Gojo gets his attitude from!

After wrecking buildings, Sukuna wins and gets Megumi..?

He feels his veins throb, does he look like a charity person or something? Hello, he even has a face tattoo! Take care of your own damn brat because he will not do that!

Probably heals Toji so he doesn’t have to take Megumi.

“Our teacher might look like that but he is a softie.” Suguru smiles softly. “When he told us about this mission, he said that—”

“Do it, brats, if you’re so weak that you need another brat to protect you. I dare you!”

“And the elders—”

“I don’t take order from those weaker than me.”

“Oh, I didn’t— expect that.”

Suguru hums. “He likes kids, actually.”

Sukuna goes to visit his bratty nephew that month. Yuuji is 3 but he runs to tackle his leg like a little octopus.

“Un-cal Kuna!” Yuuji squeals. “Whoa, me misses you s’a lot! Kuna, you bwing me owange candies?”

“Are you missing me or candies, brat?”

He grumbles but still pulls out a bag of orange candies for his toddler nephew. He doesn’t spoil the brat. He just doesn’t want to listen to him complaining.

“Oh, dear, how are you here?” Kaori walks out to greet him with a surprised smile. “I thought our elders fried you alive by now. It was Master Tengen after all.”

“Like those wrinkle bastard can do anything to me.”

That star brat is, like, 10 years older than Yuuji. Deep down, he thinks it’s just wrong, it could have been Yuuji, but he will never admit it.

Yuuji chews on his candy, mumbling a new word under his breath. “Bash-tard.”

“Don’t repeat that, brat!”

[seriousbrat]

this says a lot about Snape's character development for me. There are many parallels drawn throughout the series between Harry and Snape; obviously, they're very different characters but there are similarities too.

I think here Snape is talking about himself. The teenaged Snape we see in the Pensieve is very much like this- emotional, heart on his sleeve, easily provoked, a definite wallower in sad memories... weak. Adult Snape, though he retains some of these characteristics that do emerge in stressful moments (in PoA we see how angrily he reacts to Sirius's escape, for instance) on the whole is a great deal more thoughtful, reserved, calculating, measured.

I think that Snape at some point had to force himself to become this. I think he actually relates to Harry here, and is giving him advice based on personal experience. In my fic he begins to learn to control his emotions partially out of a desire to protect Lily; he's fully aware that she's his weakness (or really, his strength, viewed a different way) and that openly displaying any sort of emotion towards her at all makes her vulnerable to the likes of Avery and Mulciber, who will have the perfect weapon to get to him if they want to.

Severus doesn't have the advantages of his peers, he's not pureblood, he wasn't born into money. If he wants to join the Death Eaters and rise in their ranks, he needs to be subtle, cunning, careful. he can't afford to be careless and entitled like mulciber or bellatrix or even sirius. what he's got to offer isn't his name or his money, it's his sheer talent and cleverness. moving on:

When Voldemort decides to go after Lily this becomes even more important. Imo the reason why Voldemort believes that Snape only "desired" Lily is because that's what Snape told him. He lied to Voldemort's face and told him something probably disgusting tbh because that's the only way Voldemort would accept it and agree, if it was a selfish, callous request that Voldemort could understand. We can see evidence of this here:

Asking Voldemort to spare a mudblood because he was in love with her would likely not have gone over well- and as we know, Voldemort actually bore his request in mind, though obv didn't give enough of a fuck about Snape to follow through. Because although asking voldemort to spare her must have taken serious balls, Snape's mistake here was trusting someone inherently selfish to do something selfless for him.

Clearly he immediately realises this and goes to Dumbledore, which is when controlling his emotions becomes of paramount importance, because now he's working against perhaps the most highly accomplished legilimens of all time.

It's also interesting to me that Snape in this conversation is probably the character who is most forthright and informative with Harry in the whole of OotP until Dumbledore at the end; Harry actually learns a lot in this conversation. And Snape also kind of gives him credit which is interesting too:

like for Snape that's high praise lmao. A shame because if he wasn't so bitter (i.e. didn't wear his heart on his sleeve so much around harry) then he might have actually been pretty helpful to Harry and a decent teacher. Again, during the Occlumency lessons his unrestrained emotion brought up by memories of James is a hindrance. He defies Dumbledore's orders to teach Harry Occlumency because of his emotional response to SWM, as well as honestly doing kind of a shit job before that (by not being empathetic and teaching Harry in a way that would've been actually productive.)

At this point Dumbledore believes that Harry learning Occlumency and controlling his emotions is of vital importance; he turns out to be wrong about this. In Harry's case, it turns out to be his emotional nature that saves him- unlike Snape, who is the opposite. Snape's journey is about learning that some things are more important than his selfish need to give into his own emotions.

By DH Snape's learned this lesson fully; his old hatred for James doesn't stop him from doing what has to be done, from giving Harry the tools he needs. Even in the final moments of his life, he can look past James and see Lily in Harry- and, by giving Harry the information that leads to his self-sacrifice, he can let her go.

[redtailfatfish]

i managed to infiltrate the group that was harassing me, and ho boy did I find a treasure trove of doxxing, abuse, classism, and even victim blaming for being in an innapropriate relationship with my teacher. (WHO WAS A GROOMER IN MY SCHOOL!! AND HAD MULTIPLE VICTIMS!!!)

@haupkmn:

also @haupkmn:

thanks for once again posting info on my family! and asking for my mothers fucking facebook! im DEFINITELY the fucking stalker here. ALSO MORE PROFILES FROM ME WHEN I WAS A CHILD??? FOR WHAT?? not to mention bragging about having my fucking BANK INFORMATION.

totally normal to brag about having someones SSN.

tw grooming:

This is the most fucked to me. My 45 year old male teacher was very flirtatious with me and other students, one of my irls told me that he would pet and stroke her hair when she stayed after class and napped. HE GAVE ME HIS PHONE NUMBER AND WE WOULD EVEN TEXT OFTEN. HE WAS 45 AND I WAS 15. HOW THE THE FUCK AM I THE ABUSER? WHEN HES MADE ADVANCES AND RECIPROCATED MY FEELINGS??? HOW????

Why the FUCK do yall like to blame victims so bad? Why the fuck are you so weird about my sexual experiences and trauma when i was a child??? he knew about those fanfics and art and LIKED THEM. he KEPT MY ART. he was a CREEP. yall are victim blamey as fuck. I also never said he committed suicide, he still works at the school. you victim blamey fucks.

yall fucking KNEW i was a child and my abuser was a senior in HS and an adult. yall KNEW this and still fucking lied about him being my victim

also, station has MORE pics of from when i was a child saved!!!!!! totally not a stalker!!!!

Station you are a fucking case. Seek help.

[russellsppttemplates]

It's just the beggining (Oscar Piastri)

Oscar hasn't done or said anything, so you're taking matters into your own hands

Note: english is not my first language. It's my first Oscar piece and I'm nervous posting this, but hopefully you enjoy it! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions reader's grandparents' health issues, mentions the situation with McLaren and Daniel, insomnia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey, Y/N!", James called you once he saw you walk by his classroom, "hey", you greeted back, adjusting your books on your arms.

"There is a new kid, I'm sure you know, Oscar Piastri his name is, and apparently he's staying the long weekend too, like you", he trailed off, not knowing if he was stepping further than he should.

"Yes, I am staying, it's okay to talk about it", you gave him tight lipped smile, "well, I was hoping you'd keep him company - he's a bit shy, but he's very fun to be around and the teacher also thought it would be good since you're both staying", he reasoned as you nodded.

You had to stay back because your grandparents didn't live in England, and because of their old age and problems that naturally arose with that, your parents had to fly out and spend sometime with them, meaning you didn't have anyone back home, so you stayed. As for Oscar, you found out that he was staying back because his family was in Melbourne.

"At first, I just had online schooling, but it got trickier to manage and my dad needed to go back to work so I had to stay back", he explained when you asked him why he was there, "and I hope I can focus on racing, but you already know that", he scoffed softly.

"I don't think I do, I'm sorry", you narrowed your eyes, genuinely unaware of what he was talking about.

After he told you all about his career until that moment, as well as his hopes and dreams, he chuckled, "you really didn't know?", he wondered.

"I didn't! The girls said something about you moving here but I didn't listen much, I'm not that into gossip and my memory is like Dory's, I can never keep up with the latest who likes who and who flirted with what's his face", you earnestly replied.

For the first time since he arrived at the school, he felt like he could really trust someone and he could hope for new friendships on this side of the world.

You were there for his final race in F4, clapping at him on the podium, and even F3 and F2 despite your university deadlines, always making sure you could support him in every way you could.

"Hey, Osc", you said over the phone, setting your pen down the desk and swivelling in the chair. You wanted to get as much knowledge and experience as possible, so you applied to do a internship in a physiotherapy clinic near your apartment during the summer.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you doing?", he asked as you could notice the antsyness on his voice.

"I'm good, it's a bit of a slow day here, my supervisor said I could read up on a few articles", you mused, "is everything okay?", you asked.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight", he began, "you can come to my flat if that's okay, I'll order something in since I can't be trusted in the kitchen", he suggested.

"Fine by me, I'd like that, sounds really nice", you smiled, "I'll see you soon, then", you added, not wanting to dwell much on the fact that he didn't answer your question.

When you left the clinic, you walked to Oscar's place since the sun had graced you for the day and it was still nice to be out. Knocking on the door, you waited for him to open it, "I'm still in my scrubs as I didn't see the need to change", you said as you walked inside, hugging Oscar after dropping your backpack on the floor.

"Hey, you look nice, don't worry about it", he smiled as he led you to the living room, "I had to go and get the take out myself, but it's still warm", he said as you sat at the dining table.

"Now can you tell me if there's something wrong?", you wondered as you poured some of the wine he kept for you at his place on your glass.

"I have something to tell you actually", he played with his glass while he fought the smile on his lips, "this weekend I finally had some conversations with McLaren", he began.

"McLaren?", you asked as you served yourself of the food in front of you, taking some bimi brocoli and then some of the warm noodles.

"Yes, McLaren. We finally spoke about contracts and, this morning, I signed the official driver contract for next season", he stated as if he was saying that the sun had been out today.

"You did what? Since when has this been in the works?", you gasped, dropping the kitchen utensils and looking at him intently, "you're driving for McLaren next season?", he nodded, "like, driving on track? Oh my Goodness, Oscar! That's amazing!", you got up and hugged him, "why didn't you lead with that?", you pinched the nape of his neck playfully as you kept the tears from falling from your eyes. This was his dream and he was getting to live it as early as the end of the year when pre season preparations began.

"I didn't want to tell you over the phone", he shrugged his shoulders.

"But how? This is huge, Oscar!", you smiled, your teeth showing and eyes squinting with how high your cheeks rose.

"There were a lot of conversations about it, specially the last few weeks", Oscar explained, "they still want to keep it quiet", he warned.

"So you're driving alongside Lando?", you wondered. You only followed motorsport and the Formula series because of your bestfriend, so the assumption you made was based on what you had seen and read.

"Yes, hence why they want to keep it quiet, I've only told you and my family", he mentioned, "my manager knows that, obviously, but I really need you to keep quiet about it", he smiled.

"Absolutely, don't worry!", you assured, "this is so amazing Oscar! You're going to drive in Formula One! Aren't you amazed?", you beamed.

"I put in the work too, you know?", he dramatically feigned offense as you hugged him tighter, "this is your dream, Osc", you cooed, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks as you swayed you both around, "I'm so proud of you", you hiccuped, holding his head close to your lips so you could kiss his forehead.

"Let's eat, this is getting cold", your best friend urged as the situation for more intimate and brought you closer and closer to the thing he had been avoiding for nearly a year.

The feelings he had been arbouring for you weren't just friendship. How could he keep himself from being in love with you? You had been there with him and for him when he was alone in a new country, being the other shy kid that spent the long weekend im boarding school, and since then you had been attached by the hip. You were kind, caring, intelligent, beautiful inside and outside and anyone would be a fool to not see why Oscar felt the way he did about you.

.

"I'm just going to a training camp, Y/N, I do these every year!", Oscar reasoned as you groaned.

"Who am I going to complain to about university? Or how noisy my neighbours are? I'm going to die of boredom", you stated, "when you come back, I will have ceased to exist because of boredom and lack of attention", you exaggeratedly threw yourself on your sofa.

"You won't, silly", he chuckled, pulling you up since his trainer was picking him up soon, "you're going to go out and enjoy yourself, okay? You'll barely notice I'm gone", he tried as you helped him with his suitcases down to the door.

"I'll miss you", you muttered as you hugged him, "enjoy your training camp!", you smiled as you pulled away, waving at him before you made your way to your place.

Getting on with the project you had to hand in at the end of the week, you got it all through to the end, leaving time to proofread later.

You clicked on the folder where you kept your photos and videos, looking through them and reliving all of the memories you had in there.

Most of them had Oscar somehow, wether it was a screen grab from one of your FaceTime calls when he was at races, picnics in the park and lazy days at your place.

You had to admit it, for your sake and Oscar's sake as your friendship was on the line. At first you thought it was just the fact that a boy seemed to want to spend time with you, so you put it to that. Recently, however, things changed perspective and you felt stronger feelings and emotions when you thought about him.

You loved spending time with him and cherished every single hour he chose to spend with you whenever he didn't have racing related duties. Every time he hugged you, you clung just a little longer to feel hia body against yours and his arms enveloping you.

Whenever someone approached you in the rare times you went out clubbing with your friends, "I have a boyfriend" became more a wish and a need rather than some made up excuse to get guys to leave you alone.

So, to sum it up, you either had an honest conversation with him or continued to dwell on feelings you couldn't keep to yourself.

.

"Y/N just sent me a picture of her notes, can you believe they ask them to know all of that?", he showed his trainer Kim while they had lunch after a strenuous workout.

"I had to learn most of that, too", he said nonchalantly, not necessarily diminishing your competences and intelligence but letting Oscar know that maybe his infatuation with you had a source elsewhere.

"Y/N is very smart, I'm sure she'll do really well - oh, she sent me a picture, she's all dressed up!", he said as he inspected the mirror picture. He assumed it was a requirement for your presentation, as you usually preferred comfy attire, since you had a pair of trousers and a shirt, some small heels on your feet and your bright smile that left him feeling butterflies in his stomach every single time, "she looks gorgeous", he said as he texted you the same words along with wishes of good luck.

"Something you'd like to say?", Oscar quesioned when he felt Kim's eyes on him as he put the phone back on the table, screen down.

"I'm just here wondering why you're not together", the trainer offered simply after he wiped his mouth on the napkin.

"No, we are not together, at least not yet", he mused. The thought had crossed his mind, admitting how he felt about you before the season began. If everything went belly up and you didn't feel the same and didn't see him that way, he would occupy his time and channel all of his energy into racing; if you did feel the same, he would have been worrying for nothing and would have a extra spring up his step for his first season in Formula One.

"Good to know you're working on it", Kim waved his fork at Oscar, "now we need to finish this and we'll do some recovery stretches", he announced as Oscar groaned, prolonging his meal as long as he could.

.

Today, Oscar was coming back from Lanzarote and you couldn't wait to speak to him. Lately, it all dawned on you.

It happened a couple of nights ago, a slight insomnia episode keeping you up when you thought about what things would be like from now on. Oscar would travel a lot more, and he would be in a much public role compared to his previous one. It would seem stupid to other people, but a lot more people would know him, and you were sure they would fall in love with him. How could they not? Hence why you wanted to quit those thoughts while you were ahead of them.

I'm on the cab to your place, it should take another 10 minutes and Can't wait to see you, Oscar texted you just as you finished tidying your living room.

You missed him dearly, so when you threw yourself into his arms, you didn't let go as he kicked his suitcases into your apartment while still holding close to him, "I kind of need to get my backpack off my back, and I can't do that if I don't set you somewhere - only for a bit at the very least", Oscar suggested after trying to balance you against his body with one arm but he didn't feel safe enough to let you go without you falling.

Reluctantly, you got back down, feet back on the floor as he discarded his backpack before he tapped your hip twice, "up again, I want a proper hug", he mumbled as you jumped back, his hands protectively holding your thighs up as he nuzzled his face on your neck, "I need you so, so much", he sighed.

"I missed you too", you replied back, "and I don't ever want to miss you like this when I don't know how to feel about you", you forwarded. Now or never, you thought as you jumped out of his hold and faced him.

"I missed you like I have never missed you before, not even when you go a visit your family or when you went away for triple headers - and I've been trying to understand why and I finally realised what it was. I like you, more than friends like eachother - for Goodness' sake, I'm in love with you", you chuckled nervously as you admitted it out loud to him, "and everyone else will love you too - I just know it -, so soon enough you won't be my Osc anymore and I couldn't not tell you. People - and these gorgeous girls all over the world - are going to like you so much and I won't be able to compete with them, so I'm just telling you how I feel. You can leave if you want or we'll just stay here in silence of that works too, but I needed to admit my feelings", you let out in one go.

Oscar smiled, a big teeth and gums showing smile as his eyes crinkled at your words, "I'm not leaving, and we are not going to be silent - at least immediately - because I want to tell you how I feel", he began, "I'm in love with you too; I have been for about two years and only realised it a year ago, and I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be able to kiss you, to hug you, to take you with me wherever possible, to sleep next to you, to argue with you, I want all of it. With you", he said, hand cupping your cheek as his eyes asked for consent to kiss your lips.

It was as you dreamed it would be, soft, gentle and caring, lips moving in sync as you held him by his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"I thought I was loosing you to the whole F1 fandom", you chuckled, looking up at him once you pulled away.

"Of course you won't, you're my best girl", he winked, "this is just the beggining for us", he added as he pulled you to cuddle on the sofa, sharing his stories of the past days as you revelled in the feeling of being in his arms.