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#but if you're not interested that's okay too:)
illufinch · 6 hours
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hiii i'm open for comms :D a-okay with drawing styles/sizes not listed here, and contract work. email or dm me if you're interested. i'm on ko-fi too! 🌟🌟🌟🌟
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katsu28 · 22 hours
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summer's golden haze - chapter one
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: a small town somewhere in beautiful greece, early morning coffee runs, and the cute boy that you keep running into. (4.8k)
warnings: sort of shy!reader, a bit of swearing, lando being both smooth and a little awkward
a/n: series masterlist coming soon :)
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“That guy is totally checking you out.” 
You reluctantly drag your attention away from the truly addicting pasta you’d ordered to meet your friend’s gaze across the table, slightly suspicious, but also a little curious as to what she’s talking about.
Samira is grinning knowingly at you already, mischievously, like she’s got a tasty bit of information you don’t know about. Probably not tastier than the food in front of you, but your interest is piqued nonetheless. 
“What guy?” You sigh, giving into your curiosity quite easily. She arches a perfectly sculpted brow at you, then tilts her head to the side discreetly, and you follow her gaze towards—
Oh. That guy. 
You saw him on your way to your seat at first, a group of four guys sitting a few tables away in the same patio area of the restaurant, drawing your attention even before you’d sat down. Artfully messy brown curls swept up out of his face, thick dark brows framing bright eyes crinkled with laughter at something his friend had said, you’d felt yourself growing conscious of the man’s existence with just one glance. 
And then his gaze had flicked to your friends passing his table, but more importantly, your own gaze, and you’d nearly stumbled on your own feet.
Your cheeks had grown hot at the intensity of his stare following your path to your seat, not to mention the embarrassment that had flooded your veins at the thought of nearly eating shit in front of this very attractive stranger. 
Had you grown the nerve to look back at him at the time, you would’ve seen his lips quirk into a goofy grin, as well as all the shoving he’d gotten from his friends as they’d caught wind of his unabashed staring. 
Now you’re almost done with your meal, and you could swear you’ve felt him looking at you plenty more times. Not that it mattered at all, because your eyes have been firmly glued to your food and your friends only. 
Okay, so you might’ve hastened a few covert glances over in his direction too, but he’s been chatting away to his friends every time, so maybe you’re just making nothing into something. 
“Don’t even try to hide it, you’ve been making eyes at him too, girl,” Your other friend, Maren, pipes up, elbowing you in the arm playfully. The last of your girls, Camille, nods her agreement, smiling gleefully. “He’s hot.”  
Right, so perhaps not as covert as you’d thought. 
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” You reply, spearing another piece of pasta through your fork. You’re kicked under the table at that moment, hard enough to warrant the whine that escapes your mouth. “What?” Now you're met with three pointed glares your way. “Okay, fine. Yeah, he’s cute.” 
“Go talk to him!” 
“Go flirt with him!” 
“Absolutely not!” You exclaim. Your voice comes out louder than you intend and you duck your head quickly, worried you’d disturbed the peace of the quiet area. “He’s probably got a girlfriend already or something.” 
“If he does, she better dump his ass because he's been giving you fuck me eyes all damn night.” 
“No, he has not,” You hiss, which only gets you yet another look from them. You’re starting to get tired of all these looks, actually. “Has he? I mean—are they? Fuck me eyes?” 
“Oh yeah, he—” 
Camille clears her throat, cutting Samira off. “No, they’re not,” She assures you, placing a hand over yours. “He’s been smiling every time he looks over.”
“Maybe he’s looking at one of you guys?” 
“He’s definitely been looking at you.” 
You bite your lip, nose scrunching skeptically. You haven’t really been the subject of any guy’s attention before, let alone one as handsome as this one. You’ve learned it’s better not to get your hopes up when it comes to certain situations. This seems like one of them. “Are you sure?” 
“If I’m wrong, I’ll give you back your share of the villa rental.” 
“Can I get that in writing, or…?” 
Before any of them can come up with a smart remark, a plate is placed into the center of the table, on which is a large square of baklava, light and flaky with that sweet, sugary filling spilling out the sides of the piece that almost makes your mouth water. You’d seen it in the dessert section of the menu earlier, but had decided against ordering it in favor of trying an appetizer instead. 
“Oh, excuse me? We didn’t order this,” Maren speaks up, looking up at the waiter. 
He does a half turn, sweeping an arm in a vague direction. “It is from the gentleman in the blue shirt.” 
You follow his gaze, and fuck, your heart skips a beat in your chest, because it’s him. It’s the same guy you’ve been drawn to all night, and he’s actually looking right back at you this time. His hand comes up in a wave, then back down to his side almost immediately, like he’s worried about it seeming too eager, before settling with a reserved nod. All the while, he’s still got that smile gracing his face that makes your stomach flip flop. 
“He sent over a dessert?!?! I am so keeping that money, girl,” Camille hums, picking up her fork to dig in while Samira and Maren voice their agreement. 
You, on the other hand, well…you’re not sure what to think. You appreciate the gesture, but you're also confused. Why did he send something over? What did he want? 
It doesn't occur to you that he’s truly taken an interest in you until you're huddled outside with your friends talking next steps of the night. Whether you want to keep exploring this new place, or call it a day and go home. You’re firmly on the latter’s side because you're tired. But you’ll go along with whatever is decided. 
The guy and his friends have coincidentally left the restaurant at the same time as you did, judging by the sudden commotion that erupts behind you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, your gaze lands on him yet again, only this time, you actually lock eyes with him. Something jolts through you, something electric up your spine like a tiny shock. Something you’ve never felt before. You shove the foreign feeling deep down, no matter how much you’d like to explore it. 
He looks away, teeth sunk into his bottom lip to quell the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and you avert your wandering eyes too, before anyone else notices. Evidently you’re a little too slow, because all three of your friends catch on instantly. 
“Go talk to him already.” Camille says matter-of-factly. 
“No, I—what do I even say?” 
“Maybe hello would be a good start?” 
You press your lips together, unimpressed, and you get a snicker in return, something about how you're not asking for his hand in marriage, you’re just trying to make conversation. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s that you’re not exactly sure how to approach it. You’ve already convinced yourself of the worst, but to possibly have it play out in real life is a tangible fear of yours, and always has been. 
One of your girls (you’re willing to bet more money it’s Maren) gives you a not so gentle shove towards him, as does one of his friends over in his group. Now you’ve got no choice. You meet each other in the middle, just looking at each other for a few moments. It’s awkward and you have half a mind to turn and go, but then he speaks. 
“Hey,” He says. 
“Hi,” You reply shyly, shifting on your feet nervously. He shoves both hands into his pockets. He looks a bit nervous too, which does a significant wonder to calm you. “Thank you for the baklava. It was delicious.” 
“Yeah, of course. Glad you guys liked it. Figured you can’t go wrong with a classic.” He bobs his head, shoulders creeping up towards his ears in a shrug before dropping back down. “I’m Lando, by the way.” 
Lando. It’s not a name you’re expecting, but it suits him well. 
He sticks his hand out almost instinctively, like he’s been conditioned to do so. Maybe he has, considering the aura of professionality it gives off when you do shake his hand. 
His palm is smooth and warm against yours, long fingers curling around your hand like the sincere smile that curls his lips as you tell him your name in return. Dimples bracket his mouth on both sides. 
The handshake almost lasts a little too long for two people who’ve just met literally a few moments ago, as does the way his eyes linger upon yours. 
Even in the dark of the night, illuminated only by the warm glow of the lamps above you, you can see him much better up close. His sunkissed skin does little to hide the flushed pink on his cheeks that travels down to his chest, disappearing under the generously unbuttoned blue linen. You feel exposed under his intense gaze, looking back at those mesmerizing eyes. Blue, green, gray—maybe a mix of all three, you’re not sure, but you can’t help but want to figure it out. 
Then you remember that you don’t know this guy at all, and it brings you back to reality. 
“Lando, like…the guy from Star Wars?” You ask. It breaks the invisible tether between the two of you and he smiles, laughs a little bit too. 
He shrugs casually. “Not according to my mum and dad, but I do get that a lot.” 
“You must get tired of hearing it from people then.”
His head tilts to one side, smile going endearingly lopsided. “Depends on the person. Like, I didn’t mind when you said it just now.” You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you just smile, and he takes your reaction in stride, moving on. “Are you guys from around here, or…” 
“No, actually, we’re—um, we’re just here on holiday.”
“Oh, same! Yeah, we’ve been here a few days now, it’s been great. Is this your first time in Greece?” He asks, smile turning warm. You nod. “Have you checked out the local market yet?”
“Can’t say we have yet, no. We just got in the day before last, so…still figuring out our footing first. But I’ll keep it in mind, thank you!” 
Lando inhales sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Hey, y’know, if you want, maybe we could—” 
“Oi, Lando! Let’s go, mate!” 
He glances back over at his friends, one of whom is waving for him to return to his group rather wildly, before turning back to you. Whatever he was about to say is lost now, because he shrugs loosely. “Guess that’s my cue,” He sighs. Then his gaze softens, smile turning a little hopeful. “Will I see you around again? Small town and all.” 
“Uh…I dunno. Maybe, if it’s meant to be.” You have to try with all your might not to take the statement back, even though you really, really want to. 
If it’s meant to be—who the fuck says that? Like fate has anything to do with this miraculous interest Lando seems to have taken in you. If you were him, you’d find your words quite off putting. Instead, he smirks, crooked and cute. 
“Meant to be,” He repeats, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah alright, I’ll take my chances. Have a good night.” 
You bid him a soft goodnight, barely able to stifle the giggle that spills from your mouth when he nearly trips over the cobblestones on his way back to his friends. He’s awkward, you think, but still confident. It’s cute. 
Lando stays rooted in your mind the rest of the night, all the way up until you’re lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take hold of you. It’s weird to think this much about a guy you’ve just met, a guy who you’ve only had one conversation with and have left things up to chance in terms of seeing him again. 
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You’re the first one awake this morning, roused from your sleep by bright sunlight pouring through the window, even through the curtains. Contemplation of going back to sleep crosses your mind, but it’s no use. You’re up now, so you might as well make the most of your early morning. 
You love your friends dearly, but some alone time sounds like heaven right about now. There’s a coffee spot not far from where you’re staying that you remember seeing on your way in that seems like a perfect match to your solo walk, so you head there. You’ll be a nice friend and bring coffee home for when they eventually wake up too. 
After dropping them a text letting them know you’ve gone out, you set off. The walk back into town is short but serene, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of your daily lives, and a reminder of why you’d all decided to vacation in this particular region of Greece in the first place. 
Someone calls out something that sounds like your name before you can step into the shop and you pause, casting a glance around to see if your ears might be playing tricks on you. You’ve only been here a few days, and the only other person who knows you other than your friends is…Lando. 
You squint a little harder to see through the glare of the sun, and lo and behold, there he is, hands linked behind his head. The grin that lifts your face is almost embarrassing, or would’ve been had Lando not been so eager upon seeing you wave at him. 
He’s clad in athletic shorts and a cutoff tee that shows off muscles you’re trying your very hardest not to stare at as he makes his way closer, curls tucked away in a baseball cap pulled low on his head. Headphones dangle from around his neck, and he’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily very clearly once he’s stopped in front of you. 
“Hey, good morning! I thought that was you,” He breathes, attempting to catch his breath. “Early riser too, I take it?” 
“Honestly, not usually! The sun decided I would be today, though, so…here I am.” 
“Here you are. Guess it was meant to be then, huh?” He chuckles, reaching up to flip his cap backwards. If you thought he was tan the night you met, he’s even tanner in the sun, bronze skin stretching over sinewy muscle that flexes as he sweeps a hand through his hair before tugging it back down in one smooth motion. “Doing a coffee run?” 
“Yeah, I’m the only one of us awake at this hour so I figured I’d bring them back a little something.” 
“You’re a saint. I’d let my mates suffer if it were me,” Lando snorts. 
You shrug. “Guess that’s the difference between the two of us.” 
“Yeah?” He hums, looking amused. “What else is different between you and me?” 
“Well, first of all, I would never be on a run at eight in the morning. Is someone punishing you, or is this a self-inflicted torture type thing?” 
That gets another laugh out of him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Gotta keep in shape or my trainer might try to kill me with workouts instead.” 
“You’re an athlete?” You pry, intrigued. He looks the part, you think. Lean but not skinny, strong but not massively built. A runner, maybe? 
Lando freezes a split second, rocks from foot to foot, scratching at his nose. “Kind of, yeah.” 
“What’s your sport?” 
“Uh…golf. It’s more like a hobby than anything else.” 
“Golf,” You repeat, an amused smile poking at the edges of your mouth. “Can’t say I know a thing about it.” 
“Oh, it’s definitely something else, for sure. Super intense stuff, really grueling.” His words say one thing, but he’s grinning like he’s pulling your leg, lip pulled between his teeth in that same way as last night, nose scrunching adorably as he bobs his head quickly to further sell it. 
“Sure, if you say so. But d’you think your trainer would get mad if you cut your super intense training short to grab a cup of coffee with a friend?” 
You’re almost expecting him to say no, but Lando perks up instead, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Not at all. Shall we?” 
Over coffee, you find that Lando is an excellent conversationalist—funny and a good listener, an even better storyteller. He asks about you without seeming pushy or prying, and because of that you feel yourself relaxing a bit in his presence. Opening yourself up to the possibility of a good thing with him, no matter how short or fleeting it may be, whether it’s friendship or something more. 
A few weeks of summer in a place you've never been with a boy you don’t know is the time to be a little bolder. Chances are you’ll never see Lando again after this trip, so why not loosen up just a little bit? 
It’s only when more people start to trickle into the shop and you start to notice Lando’s eyes shifting over your shoulder more that you realize you’ve been here with him for a while now. And judging by the dozens of missed calls and texts from all three of your friends on your phone when you go to check it for the first time since you’d left, you’ve been gone a lot longer than you said you’d be. 
You know them well enough to know that they’re not above calling the local police to send out a search party for you if you don’t find your way back soon. 
“Friends wondering where you are?” 
You nod, sending a quick message that you are indeed alive and not kidnapped like they feared, before tucking your phone away again. “Guess I better get them their coffees for sure now, or else they might not let me back in the house.” 
“Lemme buy it for them,” He offers sincerely, offering you a lopsided grin. You shake your head rapidly at the suggestion, but he continues, “I’m the reason you’ve been gone so long, the least I can do is buy them drinks. Call it an apology for making them worry, yeah?” 
“You really don’t have to, Lando.” 
“I know. I want to,” He insists, looking truly genuine. First dessert last night, now coffee today. You have half a mind to push back a little more, but you get the feeling Lando is as persistent as he is handsome, so you taking a firm stance on something like this seems like a moot point. Giving in, you nod, and he mirrors it, looking proud. 
He lets you take the lead in reciting your friends’ orders once you’ve made your way back over to the front counter, stepping forward with a hand to the small of your back to pay for the drinks before you have any bright ideas to pull one over on him and pay for them yourself. 
The barista smiles politely, pen hovering above a cardboard cup. “And a name for that?” 
Lando casts a furtive glance around the area before leaning in and saying his name quietly, as if he’s worried he’ll run into someone who he doesn’t want to see. You notice, but don’t really pay it any mind. You understand far too well not wanting to talk to someone you're unprepared for. 
Soon enough Lando’s got the drinks in hand and you’re back outside, and he’s smiling again. You’ve noticed he does that a lot when he looks at you. You’re sure you’re the same way with him. 
“My mates and I, we’re planning on having a little barbeque at our villa tomorrow night. You should come,” Lando says encouragingly, tilting his head to the side. When your brows raise in surprise, he hastily adds, “And your friends too, obviously. We’d love the company.” 
“Ah! Um, I dunno. Wouldn’t wanna crash your thing.” 
“You wouldn't be. Seriously, come hang out. We’re fun, I promise!” 
“I just—I forget if we’ve got plans, that’s all.” You’re not lying when you say it, you truly forget if you’re free tomorrow night. Most of it stems from your awful memory, but a small part of it attributes to how your brain kind of stops working properly around Lando. 
“Right, well, you figure that out, and if you find you’ve got a free evening,” He balances the drinks deftly in one hand, the other fishing his phone out of his shorts pocket and swiping at the screen briefly before holding it out to you, “text me, let me know.” 
You’re not sure where you find the boldness to tap your phone number into his contacts, but you do it with confidence, saving it under your name and a smiley face. 
“Cute.” Lando smirks, chuckling as he sends a simple hi so you've got his number too. “Now, I believe these are yours, and…maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? If it’s meant to be.” 
You smile at the mirroring of last night’s words from him as you situate the cardboard tray in your own arms. “Maybe.” 
The smile hasn’t left your face even by the time you arrive back home, because you’ve been thinking about Lando the whole way. For a stranger you’ve met only yesterday, he’s sure been occupying a lot of space in your mind. You aren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. 
You’re already prepared for the berating you’re about to get as you close the front door behind you carefully, making your way to the kitchen.
“Where the hell have you been?” 
You look up to see all three of your friends sitting around the kitchen table, and none of them look particularly happy. You smile innocently, holding up the cardboard tray of drinks up as a peace offering. “Coffee?” 
“It better come with an explanation.” 
Nodding vigorously, you dole out each drink to your friends. “It does, I swear. I didn’t just disappear, I ran into—” 
“Hold the fuck on. Why does this say Lando? Why is that man’s name on my cup—” 
“Oh my god, you did not get coffee with him without telling us!” 
“You bitch!” 
That’s how you end up telling them the whole story—running into him in town, talking for ages, and that brings you to your next point. 
“We don’t have any plans for tomorrow night, do we?” 
“There’s the vineyard tour in the afternoon, but that should end around five. Why?” 
“Lando invited us to a barbecue at his villa,” You say quickly. That gets their attention immediately, all of their eyes widening in the same shocked looks. None of them answer your question though. “Is that…something we’d be interested in?” 
Samira is the first to snap out of it, mouth curving into a playful smirk. “Invited us, or invited you?” 
“Definitely just her.” 
“Whatever! Do we wanna go or not?” You grumble, doing your best to fight the grin threatening to overtake your face. The thought of him wanting to spend time with you brings you a teensy bit of satisfaction. 
“Of course we’re going!” 
After they’re done poking fun at you, you’re able to take a moment to top out a quick message to Lando. That barbecue invite still up for grabs? 
You're not expecting an immediate answer, but your phone dings with a text back before you even set it down. 
Lando: Of course. Plans fell through? 
You: seems like you’ve really made an impression on my friends 
Lando: Not sure whether to be scared or flattered…
You: your guess is as good as mine! we’ll find out tomorrow :)
Lando: Brb gotta go call my lawyer and update my will 
“You’re texting him right now, aren’t you?” 
You look up from your phone to see Camille leaning in the doorway to your room, a soft, knowing smile on her face. “Yeah, he—uh, he says he’s looking forward to meeting you guys again.” She comes to sit beside you, looking like she wants to talk about something. You set it aside, head tilting in a silent question. 
“Do you think you’ll stay in contact with Lando after we leave?” 
“I’m not sure. Haven’t really thought about it all that much, to be honest.”
If you do think about it, you haven’t even known Lando for more than a day. You’ve only just met him yesterday, seen him twice, one of which was completely spur of the moment. So what if that spur of the moment encounter was the most connected you’ve felt to someone in a long time? 
You don’t know him, and chances are, he’s not looking for anything serious. You don’t even know if you’re looking for anything serious. 
“It’s okay if you want to.” 
“I shouldn’t want to,” You say. It feels like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. You look to Camille for an answer, but she just pats your hand. “Right? I’m never gonna see him again, so I shouldn’t get attached.” 
“You don’t know that for sure, do you?” 
“I guess not. It feels scary, though. Opening yourself up to something when you don't know what’ll happen.” 
Camille hums, a placating, even comforting sound to soothe your worries. She’s always been pretty good at getting you to see the brighter side in things. “There’s fun in that too. Being spontaneous, surprising yourself. You never know, Lando could be just the thing you need, the one you didn’t know you were looking for. And if not, you don’t have to see him again. A win-win, I’d say.” 
She leaves you alone to your thoughts after that, left to ponder what exactly it is you want. It might be stupid and entirely over-optimistic of you, but Lando has already pulled you in. You’re not sure what it is about him. He makes you want more, want to know more. 
Whatever happens will happen, and if things don’t work out…well, Camille is right. You never have to see Lando again. 
His name flashes across your screen later in the night, right before you’re about to go to sleep. You’ve been texting back and forth all day, but this one is different. He’s video calling you right now. 
You stare at his name for longer than you should, finger hovering over the answer button a few beats before pressing it. His face pops into view once the call connects. Like you, he’s sitting in bed, leaned up against the headboard, cozied up in a soft looking jumper. He looks like he’s moments away from drifting off, but he called you, so he must want to talk. 
“Hi,” You say softly. 
“Hey, you.” He smiles, warm and sleepy and all squinty in a way that makes you want to crawl through the screen and tuck him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. “You must be tired.” 
“Eh, I’m alright. Why?” 
“‘Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.” 
You let out a wildly unappealing snort of laughter at his poor attempt at a pick up line. “That’s terrible! Oh my god, that was awful, Lando, seriously.” 
“No?” His smile grows giddy, shoulders shaking with his chuckles. “Yeah, it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Got you laughing though.” 
Conversation falls into the same easy nature as this morning, like you’ve known him for ages. He makes you laugh until your ribs hurt, smile until your cheeks feel the same. It still amazes you just how comfortable you feel around him, as someone who usually takes a while to warm up to people. 
Maybe you should take it as a sign. 
A jumble of muffle voices offscreen some time later makes Lando squint. “Hang on, I’ll be right back. Don’t hang up. ” He lets the phone drop onto the bed, checking once to make sure you’re still there before disappearing from sight. 
You hear his footsteps fade, then more voices you can’t quite make out. Someone laughs off in the distance, and then he’s back, resituating himself with the remnants of an amused grin on his lips. 
“Everything okay?” 
“My mates are yelling at me to turn off the light, so I’d better go,” He sighs goodnaturedly, lips turning down into a frown. Then he yawns widely, and you realize how late it’s gotten since you’ve picked up his call. Losing track of time when you’re talking to Lando seems to be a recurring theme. “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow.” 
Your breath catches a little in your chest, both at his words and the way he’s looking at you through the screen as he says it, nothing but genuine. “Me too.” 
You’re starting to think this whole try not to get attached thing is going to be much harder than you thought. 
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june gloom - part 2: is this gonna end ever?
(Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader, 6.9k words)
part 1
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summary: Six months after Rafe walked out of your life, you're finally picking up the shattered pieces he left in his wake. When you accidentally find yourself working at his wedding, your thrown right back into the chaos you thought you were free from.
content: angst/smut, 18+ minors do not interact!, mentions of alcohol abuse and drugs, mentions of cheating, what could be considered infiedelity
a/n: as a fair warning, the angst only gets worse in this one. however, I promise the third and final part will see a satisfying and happy ending for these two if you stick with me. also, this one got wordy, but after struggling with it for a while i'm very happy with how it turned out. thank you to this anon for inspo and for everyone's support on pt. 1.
₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊
Crickets chirped a chorus around you as you laid back on the flannel blanket, the grass beneath making a soft pillow for your head. Your lips wrapped around the blunt, lungs expanding to welcome the smoke. You hummed in pleasure as the high-end strain went down way smoother than any of the trash you would usually get on The Cut.
“God, this is good shit,” you said with a lazy smile.
“Only the best for you,” Rafe smirked, leaning over on the blanket to pull the joint from your lips so he could join in your revelry.
He took a long drag and let it go in a smoke ring that rose above you and disappeared into the starry sky. You tried and failed to stifle your laugh.
“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes glazed over with his high.
“Nothing,” you chuckled. “Just…what frat house did you learn that in?”
“Shut up,” he teased back, making you laugh harder.
“No, I’m sure the sorority girls found that very sexy,” you continued.
“They did actually, thank you,” he joked. “You would’ve too.”
“Yeah right, I’d make a great Phi Beta Whateverthefuck,” you huffed sarcastically.
“Did you go to college?” He asked.
You’d known Rafe for about three months, spending nearly every night together since you first met at that club. You had talked about just about everything under the sun except yourselves, you were caught off-guard by this excavation into your history.
“Um, no,” you answered, taking the blunt back from him.
“Why not?”
You shrugged, taking another hit, “didn’t wanna.”
“Do you regret it?” He continued.
You sat up and pulled your knees to your chest, looking down at him with a frown.
“What?” He questioned.
“Why the sudden interest?” You said, harsher and less playful than you’d intended to.
Rafe sat up next to you, pulling his knees towards himself to mirror you. His eyes were intense on your face as he mumbled, “you don’t want me to get to know you?”
Truthfully, you wanted that and so much more, but you couldn’t tell him that. You knew this was just a way for him to pass the time until he could get you in bed again, and maybe you were okay with that. You decided you’d entertain the line of questioning, just this once, not knowing then that this was just the first of many deep, meaningful conversations you’d share with him.
You took a deep breath and said, “what do you want to know?”
He looked up at the stars as he considered the answer to that question. You took the opportunity to admire the way the moonlight reflected off of the sharp angle of his jaw.
He decided on “what’s your biggest dream?”
You bit your lip and looked down at your bare feet, digging them into the blanket, not used to this kind of conversation and yet feeling curiously comfortable opening up to him.
“I want to go to India,” you answered honestly. “I read a book when I was a kid about a little girl who grew up in India and I’ve wanted to go ever since.”
Rafe nodded in approval, “that’s a good one. You should go.”
“Yeah, as soon as I win the lottery, it’ll be my first stop,” you joked bitterly.
“Or I could just take you,” he shrugged.
You smiled at him, incredulous. 
“What?” He asked, genuinely unsure of the meaning behind the look you were giving him. You realized he might actually be serious, even though you knew it would never really happen.
“Nothing. That’s sweet,” you smiled. “But I want to get there on my own. I wanna earn it.”
“I can respect that,” he conceded. 
“Anytime you wanna lend me that private jet, though, just hit me up,” you teased.
Rafe chuckled, eyebrows raised, “oh I see…you’re using me.”
“I thought that was obvious,” you smiled coyly. 
“Uh-huh,” Rafe said, playfully shoving your shoulders so you fell back onto the blanket. 
You giggled as he climbed over you, caging you in between his arms as he held himself up, looking down at you, tucked perfectly beneath him.
“I think I’m okay with that.”
He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip tenderly, lowering himself down until you were chest to chest…
“Are you listening to me?”
Your friend waved her hand in front of your face, trying to get your attention.
“Sorry, what?” You were pulled from your thoughts.
“I said they want us there at four this friday,” she showed you an email on her phone.
“Oh,” you blinked, coming back to the moment. “Where is it?”
“Some mansion on Figure 8. It’s a wedding, but they're doing like a whole weekend thing, so it’s Friday through Sunday. Last time I worked one of these I made over five hundred.”
When she first told you about the catering gig this weekend, you turned her down. You’d been carefully avoiding the north part of the island for the last six months, and a whole weekend would be a high-risk endeavor. However, you didn’t have to check your bank account to know you were near broke, and Figure 8 was where the real money was made. You agreed and ironed your white button down and black slacks, your go-to outfit for catering gigs.
As you pulled up to the address your friend had sent you, you cursed under your breath. The estate was huge, the old house immaculately kept and towering proudly under a crystal blue sky. You turned down the radio as your beat up car sputtered its way up the long, grand drive.
“We’re definitely not on the south side anymore,” you joked to yourself. 
You pulled around back to the service entrance as directed by your friend’s text and tracked her down in the crowd of other blue collar workers. Everyone was moving quickly, arranging the massive party space according to the wishes of some unseen bride and groom. 
You were put to work right away, polishing silverware and arranging it as instructed by the very specific, color-coded diagram you had been given. Tonight was only the rehearsal dinner, and there were two-hundred names on the guestlist. You chatted with your friend as you did various other chores, speculating about who could possibly be the owner of this massive property.
“Maybe it’s a crime lord,” your friend joked. “Like some mafia type shit.”
“Maybe it’s a celebrity,” you guessed. 
You didn’t have to wonder for long. 
“Hey! A little help here!” A delivery driver called to you as he struggled to lift something large and rectangular out of his truck, the mystery item protected with a large, black sheet.
You ran over to give him a hand, and he directed you to a big easel he had set out, “picture of the happy couple,” he explained. You called your friend over, informing her you were about to have all your questions answered.
Once you had set the canvas down, you asked the delivery driver if you could remove the sheet. “I don’t give a fuck, my job’s done,” he said, hopping back in his truck and driving off. You and your friend giggled as you did a little countdown and drumroll routine. You pulled the sheet away and her mouth fell open
“Of fucking course,” she immediately took out her phone to take a picture.
You stepped back to look at the giant, blown up portrait. Every muscle in your body tensed and the blood drained from your face, you grabbed the back of a nearby chair for support. 
There on the oversized canvas, smiling that perfect, crooked, arrogant, beautiful smile, was Rafe Cameron.
He had his arm around the woman you recognized to be the one he’d left you for, calling off your whirlwind love affair in pursuit of something more optically appealing to his family. He’d found it; they were gorgeous together.
Six months had passed since you’d last seen him. The first few months were the hardest you’d ever faced. At first, you went out almost every night, needing to stay shitfaced to keep your mind from wandering to him or your fingers from dialing his number. Eventually, you had to delete him from your phone, not trusting yourself in those late night moments when you missed him so much you thought you might die. No amount of booze or weed could make you forget the feeling of his hands on your body, the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes when he fucked you that last time. Your friends started getting worried. You blacked out so often, you couldn’t keep a job. After three or four months of your reckless behavior, they called a sort of intervention and convinced you to calm down. 
You decided if you were going to be alone, you’d make yourself good company. 
You stopped drinking, and even gave up cigarettes. It took several false starts, but the patch got you through it. You picked up good habits, too, starting your mornings with yoga and meditation. You were planning to go back to school, tired of career-hopping through dead-end minimum wage jobs. You stopped eating take out so much, started grocery shopping and saving every spare cent you had for a travel fund. You even cut and dyed your hair, finding freedom in the ability to change whenever you wanted, in the fluidity of answering to no one but yourself. You were still untamed, but for the first time in your life, you felt a semblance of control. You decided you’d build a beautiful life even if you had to scratch and claw your way to it. And you’d do it all by yourself.
Slowly, and with the most effort you’d given anything ever, you were finally starting to get over Rafe Cameron.
Or so you thought. Now, standing in his backyard, decorating for his wedding, you felt like you were right back where you were that night in June, lying naked on your bed while he walked out of your life forever.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A high-pitched, angry voice startled you, pulling your eyes away from the picture.
You whipped your head around to see her, even more stunning than she was in pictures, her wide Disney-princess eyes shooting daggers at you. Your first and most irrational thought was that she somehow knew who you were. The delusion of that concept was quickly made apparent.
“The picture was supposed to stay covered until tonight,” she barked at you and your friend, who looked at you with wide-eyed panic. “Aren’t you the fucking caterers? Why are you even out here?”
“S-sorry,” you stammered out, your mind reeling as it tried to connect to your reality. You picked up the sheet off the ground. “We’ll cover it back up.”
“No, don’t touch it! Where’s your manager?” She demanded, her hands on her hips. “They need to know about this. What are your names?”
Your friend looked at you with wide eyes, you knew she needed this job even more desperately than you did. Plus, she’d stuck her neck out to get you hired and now she’d lose the money and her credibility.
“It was me,” you blurted out. “Not her. Don’t worry, you don’t need to get anyone fired, I’ll just leave.”
It wasn’t a big sacrifice, considering you were already thinking if you stayed another minute you might have a full blown panic attack. At least if you threw yourself under the bus and got fired, your friend would have no reason to question why you ran from the property crying.
“Fine, whatever,” she dismissed your act of loyalty with a wave of her manicured hand while your friend looked at you with grateful eyes. “What’s your name then?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you handed her the sheet, which she snatched from your hands irritably. “I’ll just go.”
You tried to keep your composure as you walked back toward the house, praying you’d remember your way back to your car. Your heart was pounding, your anxiety and shock threatening to bubble over, you could feel tears springing up and your hands shaking.
You rounded one of the many corners of the massive house, finally out of her line of vision, and broke into a sprint. You passed through another courtyard, where more preparations were underway. There were far too many eyes on you. If you remembered correctly, there was only one more turn before the part of the property you were parked on.
Dirt crunching under your feet, you slid around the corner and straight into something hard and large. You let out a sharp “ouch” as your face burned with the force of the collision. To your horror, you realized you’d run into a person. You kept your eyes low, looking at the man’s feet as you held a hand over your face, wondering for a moment if you’d broken your nose. Then, a familiar scent flooded your senses, and you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder. 
“Woah, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Rafe’s voice asked, clearly unaware of who he was talking to, you looked so different than you did six months ago.
You raised your wide eyes to look at him, hand still cradling your throbbing nose. You took him in through rapidly blinking lashes, begging yourself not to cry. His face shifted slowly from concern for a stranger to recognition of someone all too familiar.
He pulled his hand from you in shock, his mouth opening and closing and opening again, trying to form words that just weren’t coming. You knew you needed to get out of there before they did.
“I’m fine,” you said firmly, hoping he understood you were talking about more than just your injured face.
You sidestepped him and kept running, leaving him standing wide eyed and ashen faced as he watched you get into your car and peel away from his home, and away from him. 
₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊
The key rattled against the lock, your hands shaking as you tried to get into your apartment. When you finally got the door opened, you peeled off your clothes quickly, as if they were covered in something radioactive. You pulled on a tank and some sleep shorts, fully ready to get in bed and stay there for days. Everything in you was unraveling. The sight and sound of him undoing the steel backbone you had built for yourself. You climbed under the covers, curled into a ball, and sobbed.
You cried so hard, it knocked you out. Without trying to, your body fell into a hazy, uneasy kind of sleep, haunted by images of Rafe. When you woke, blinking confusedly at the fuzzy outline of the time on your alarm clock, it was dark outside. The clock read 11:03pm. You pulled yourself from your bed with a groan, craving something to comfort you in your post-meltdown emptiness.
As you stood at the sink, filling the kettle for some tea, your mind replayed the events of the day. He’s getting married tomorrow. The rehearsal dinner that you helped set up for was probably over by now. You pictured him saying goodnight to her with a kiss, hanging his tux for the morning, making sure he had the rings ready. You already knew you’d lost him, but the permanence of tomorrow’s events felt like a boot on the neck of the small part of you that still wondered what if.
Your phone rang out loudly on the kitchen table, making you jump, so startled you almost dropped the tea kettle, the water now overflowing. You set the kettle down on the stove and turned on the burner before looking at your phone screen, which read “unknown number.” You hit decline and let it go to voicemail. After a minute, you poured your tea and sat at the table, watching as your phone lit up again with notification of a new voicemail. You unlocked it and pressed play.
You knew the voice immediately, though it was coming out slurred and strained. You clutched the phone to your ear with both hands to hear better.
“Heyyyy baby. It’s me. I’m sorry for calling so many times, blowin’ up your phone and you’re probably out somewhere, looking fuckin’ gorgeous like always. Shit there’s probably guys lined up to take you home. Do you remember when we met? Fuck you looked so hot. I thought if you said no to going home with me I might literally die. But you said yes! You said yes and you took me home and we, fuck…god…it was so good, you’re so good. Not just the sex. I mean, yes your pussy is so perfect, but…shit it’s raining…but you were- you are…jesus Rafe get it together. I can’t remember what I was saying. I’m so drunk, I- ouch, fuck!- I miss you, baby. It's cold out here but I don’t care, I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t listen to them talk about this fucking wedding. Fucking flowers and table settings and shit I don’t care about any of that…just, please…baby…I need-”
Your phone beeped loudly, the voicemail cut off for length. You replayed it, twice. Outside your kitchen window, you could see the rain getting heavy. The low was in the 30s tonight, and it was supposed to keep raining for hours. You couldn’t hear much in the background behind Rafe’s drunken rambling, but you could tell he was outside. You pictured him stumbling into a ditch somewhere. He had hurt himself on the voicemail, did he fall? You couldn’t stand the thought of him alone, out in the cold rain, hurt.
Despite every instinct, you pulled up the number he called from and texted him.
Today 11:14pm
Where are you?
Today 11:16pm
‘Unknown’ shared their location with you.
You grabbed your coat and keys and ran out the door before you had time to second guess yourself. You found him lying on the beach, his clothes soaked through from the rain that was still falling heavily. He’d clearly thrown up, just a few feet from where he was laying now. You ran to his side and quickly checked that he was breathing.
“Jesus, Rafe,” you recoiled at the overwhelming aroma of booze radiating off of him.
His eyes flew open at the sound of your voice. 
“Baby?” he groaned.
“We gotta get out of here, Rafe,” you struggled to help him up.
With an enormous amount of effort, you got him into your car. He leaned his head against the cold window as you drove, his breath fogging up the glass with each exhale. You looked over at him every few seconds to make sure he was still conscious. 
Once in your apartment, stumbling through the door with his arm over your shoulder, you led him into the bathroom, guiding him to sit on the edge of the tub while you ran the shower, water heating slowly.
You tapped his arms. 
“Up,” you instructed. He lifted his arms obediently and looked up at you through half-lidded eyes as you peeled off his wet polo, doing everything you could to avoid staring at his bare torso.
“Think you can do the rest yourself?” You motioned to his lower half.
“No,” he said with a smirk.
“Rafe,” you warned, not playing around.
“I can do the rest myself,” he said with his hands up in defense. 
You left him in the bathroom fumbling with his belt. While he showered, you brewed a pot of coffee and poured two steaming mugs, sitting uneasily at the table when he finally emerged from the bathroom. He was in only his boxers and you blushed aggressively, as if you hadn’t seen him naked a hundred times before. He caught the redness in your cheeks as you looked down at your hands, swallowing hard.
“Sorry,” he said earnestly. “My clothes are still wet.”
You pushed back your chair and walked to your bedroom, returning with folded clothes in your hands. He looked suspiciously at the men’s t-shirt and basketball shorts you gave him, cocking his eyebrow at you. You just glared back at him, tilting your head slightly as if to say I dare you to give me shit about where I got them. He didn’t push it, pulling them on wordlessly.
“Coffee?” You offered once he was dressed.
“Please,” he slumped into the chair across from you, sipping the coffee with a sigh.
“Feeling better?” You asked.
“Much better, thanks,” he said. “Never mix rum and redbull.”
You snorted, “I could’ve told you that.”
“Well you weren’t there were you?” The sentence started playfully but ended with a bite.
You sipped your coffee, wondering who would be first to acknowledge the elephant in the room. You sat in silence for a few minutes, both drinking your coffee and letting the air grow thick between you.
Finally, he caved and spoke first, “why’d you leave?”
“Why would I stay?” You responded, voice dripping with spite.
“I- I guess I don’t know.” Now it was Rafe avoiding your eyes.
“Does she know…about me?” You asked timidly.
“No,” he mumbled, before sipping up the last drop of his coffee.
“And where does she think you are right now?” 
“My bachelor party.”
“We should get you back there, then.” You stood and collected both mugs, bringing them to the sink.
Rafe scoffed, “you’re kicking me out again?”
“I never kicked you out, Rafe. You left,” you said, clutching the edge of the sink, bracing for an argument.
But he didn’t argue, he just let the silence settle between you for a long moment before finally saying, “I wish I hadn’t. I miss you.”
You turned, expecting to find him still slumped over the table, but he had stood and was now startlingly close. You jolted, squaring your shoulders in defense as he got closer to you.
“Don’t say that,” you pleaded. “I can’t do this with you.”
“Then why’d you come get me?” He asked, his eyelids low as he looked down at you. “Why’d you bring me here?
“Why’d you call me?” You asked back.
“I asked you first,” he said, no playful smile to match his childish words.
“Why does it matter?” You sighed.
“‘Cause it does, it matters to me, please just give me a reason,” his voice grew more desperate as he stepped even closer to you, his looming body caging you against the sink. He searched your face as he waited for you to respond, needing an answer you couldn’t give him.
“Are you gonna marry her?” Your words tightened the tension already growing between you, causing Rafe to close his eyes in frustration.
“I don’t want to talk about her,” he shook his head. 
Rafe lifted his hand slowly, placing it on your waist. He squeezed gently at the soft skin of your side. You leaned into his touch for just a second before coming to your senses.
“Are you? Going to marry her?” You repeated stubbornly.
“Yes,” He said, eyes falling from your face to his hand on your side.
“Then you shouldn’t be touching me,” you grabbed Rafe’s hand and lowered it from you. “I won’t be a mistress. I won’t be that dirty pogue who fucks a married guy, I wanna be something better than that.” 
You slipped out from between him and the sink, pacing to the other side of the room, but his body turned aggressively to follow you.
“You are. You’re so much better,” his voice cracked with urgency as he rushed to reassure you.
You shook your head in anger, raising your voice as you snapped, “then why are you marrying someone else?”
“Because I have to!” He matched your heated tone, as if he was the one to have something to be mad about.
“We’re going in circles, Rafe! We are in the exact same spot we were six months ago! Except I’m a different person now. It changed me, losing you. I got better, I got healthy, I got sober. I got over you!” You were yelling now, searching for the words to make him understand that he wasn’t the only one who had something to lose now.
“Well I didn’t get over you,” he stated simply.
“No, you got engaged,” you pointed out.
“Fuck that, fuck her, you know I don’t love her!” He scoffed. “You saw her today, you know she’s a bitch.”
“That’s really nice, Rafe, you should put that in your vows,” you huffed sarcastically.
“Oh c’mon, she doesn’t love me either,” he rolled his eyes. “She still fucks around, everyone knows it.”
He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it took you by surprise. You searched his face for a sign as to whether it was true or just something he made up to make you sympathize with him. The way his eyes fell to the ground and the apples of his cheeks blushed slightly told you it was true, she cheated on him, and he was ashamed of it. It made you sick, the thought of someone having him so close and caring so little. The only thing worse than the thought of her treating him like that was the thought of him accepting it as if it was what he deserved. You should’ve felt sad for him, but it just made you angrier.
“Then why, Rafe? Why?” You knew you were becoming a broken record but you just could not wrap your head around his choice. “Why are you still with her?” You hated the way it made you sound like you were blaming him for her actions, but you needed to understand.
“Because I’m going to have to end up with someone like her anyway, I may as well just get it over with,” he said with a resigned shake of his head.
“That’s fucked up, Rafe,” you said, even though you knew he already knew it.
“It is what it is,” he shrugged, defeated.
Your eyes caught the clock on your stove. It was almost 1am. Rafe was supposed to be saying his vows in twelve hours, and you knew if he stood here in your apartment for another minute, looking at you so helplessly, you’d crumble for him.
“I think you should go home,” you said, trying and failing to mean it.
“Not yet,” Rafe said, his tone implying there was something more he was waiting for.
And even though you wanted to, you just couldn’t give it to him. 
Mustering the last of your pride, you took a deep breath and said, “If you’re waiting for me to ask you not to marry her, we’re both gonna be disappointed. I’ve been doing good, Rafe. I got my life together, and I won’t be responsible for ruining someone else’s. It’s not on me, you have to decide. If you don’t want to marry her, then don’t marry her. But do it for you, because I’ve got me covered.”
Rafe considered your words, standing completely still as they washed over him. He had to choose. He could either ruin his reputation and potentially lose his family to be happy with you or keep the lifestyle he’d grown so accustomed to and be miserable with her. He looked so sad, and you desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but you stayed silent, wanting him to say what he was feeling all on his own for once. You needed a simple answer.
But Rafe Cameron never did anything the simple way.
He didn’t say anything,  he just started walking toward you. Once he was close enough to touch you, and your back was against the wall, he reached up to touch your face gently with one finger, silently asking if you were still in pain from your collision earlier. When you didn’t wince or push him away, he leaned down, bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.
“Just one more time, please. Don’t kick me out, be with me one more time,” he whispered against your skin.
You shook your head slowly, whispering back, “I won’t kick you out, but I also won’t let you touch me and then marry her.”
“Fine, I won’t touch you.” 
Rafe leaned back, only slightly, pulling his face away so you were level with his chest. He folded his hands behind his back to show you he meant it. You could smell his familiar musk, his chest so close to your face you could hear his heartbeat as you looked up at the pulsing veins in his neck. His hair, still wet from the shower, flopped messily over his forehead. A single drop fell from his bangs and landed on your collarbone. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he tracked the droplet rolling across your exposed skin, down your chest, over the curve of your tits and finally disappearing into your tank top.
Eyes locked to Rafe’s, you lifted your hand slowly, placing it over the spot the water had fallen, sliding your fingers delicately down the drop’s path. When you reached the neckline of your tank top, Rafe’s eyes consuming every movement, you reached up with your other hand and lowered one of the straps of your top slowly. You dragged your hand down further, cupping your breast through your lacy bralette and biting your lip at the pressure.
Rafe’s jaw clenched. He put one hand on the wall next to your head to steady himself, bringing his body impossibly closer while still not touching you. His other hand fell to his side, moving dangerously close to his dick.
“You better not touch yourself either, or I swear to god I’ll stop,” you warned him.
“Don’t stop,” He brought the drifting hand up to the wall on the other side of your head. “Please, baby.”
Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his voice, raspy and strained with need. With two hands on the hem of your shirt, you pulled it slowly over your head, leaving you in just the see-through undergarment. 
“Take that off too,” Rafe tried to sound dominant, but his voice cracked, betraying him.
“You’re not in any position to make demands,” you scolded with a shake of your head. “And you’re not going to see me naked. You have a fianceé for that.”
Rafe was pained by this, his nostrils flailing as he clenched his jaw in frustration. You ignored him and put your hands back on your body, palming both of your tits again before trailing lower over your stomach. Rafe’s tongue darted out of his mouth and licked his lips as he watched the way your stomach flexed with anticipation, hands finally landing on the waistband of your sleep shorts. One hand pulled the elastic back while the other slid beneath it slowly. When your fingers ran over the fabric of your panties, teasing your clothed clit, your head fell back against the wall and your jaw fell slack. Rafe ran one of his hands through his hair as he watched pleasure flood your face, desperate to touch something, anything. The hand still on the wall closed into a fist. You started rubbing circles over your clit through your panties, the fabric already soaked through, wet since the sight of him in his boxers. Your breath hitched when you found the perfect rhythm and you closed your eyes tight, a melodic moan rising from your throat.
“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking sexy,” Rafe growled through gritted teeth.
Your eyes flew open and you pulled your hand from your shorts, suddenly very aware of the lack of space between you and the vulgarity of what you were doing. You slid under his arm and hurried to the other side of the kitchen.
“You should go,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself and shivering at the sudden loss of his warmth.
Rafe stayed still, trying not to spook you. His head dipped low, looking down at his ringing hands.
“I missed you,” he mumbled helplessly.
“You mean you missed fucking me?” You asked spitefully.
One agonizingly slow step at a time, Rafe crossed the room. You turned from him as if to push him away, literally giving him the cold shoulder. But he wasn’t deterred, he just got closer and closer until he was right behind you, close enough for his breath to sweep across your shoulder as he said, “yeah, what if I do? I miss it so much. There’s not a day that passes without me wishing I was here, fucking you so good you scream my name.”
His arrogant words made you so fucking angry, and so fucking wet.
What little resistance you had mustered disappeared. Breathless, you whispered, “what else do you miss?”
“I miss your little moans,” he continued, the corner of his lips raising slightly at the sight of the goosebumps that shot up your arms. “I bet you still cry out for me when you make yourself come, don’t you? I want you to show me.”
“We can’t do this,” you shook your head.
“No, I can’t do this,” he corrected you. “You can do whatever you want.”
No fight left, you took his suggestion, and soon you were laying back on your bed, your shorts thrown on the floor, your hand moving feverishly under your panties. Rafe laid next to you, his body drawn in as close as it could possibly get while keeping his promise not to touch you. You’d made no such promise, the hand you weren’t rubbing over your slick folds gripping his arm for purchase as you moaned at your own touch.
“Talk to me,” you begged.
“Yeah?” He said excitedly, as if he had been waiting for permission. 
You nodded desperately, bringing your eyes to his as one of your fingers dropped down to enter yourself.
“You remember the first time we fucked?” He began. “Right here on this bed. I took you from behind. You were so tight around my cock, like you were fucking made for me.”
You added a second finger, driven by his filthy words. His jaw clenched, restraining himself with more effort than he’d ever given anything as he watched you writhe.
“Keep going,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut.
“I had to turn you around, I had to see that pretty face when you came for me for the first time,” he recalled. “God, I bet you wish it was me stretching you out right now, don’t you? You wish it was my cock pounding you into the mattress until you can’t breathe, huh?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, lips pouting, overwhelmed by the memories and your need to feel him.
“Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he groaned, feeling himself twitching in his pants, desperate for his own release but committed to yours. “I need to see you come, baby, one more time. Please come for me?”
You cried out as you clenched around your own fingers, their size so inadequate with him so close, knowing what he could be doing to you. But you meant what you said, you couldn’t let him touch you, not while his bride was sleeping just across town, no idea her groom was in some pogue’s bed, begging her to come for him. Maybe it was sick, but the thought of him being so desperate for you that he was risking everything with her made your thighs clench around your hand, nearing the edge.
“Tell me about the first time you saw me,” you pleaded, the rasp in your voice warning him you were close. 
“Holy shit, baby, you were so fucking sexy,” he said, rising up from the bed and propping himself on his arm to hover over you, the proximity throwing you into even more of a frenzy. “Dancing in that club, the way you move, shit, I wanted to lay you down on that dancefloor and fuck you right there. So did every other guy in there. But they didn’t get to have you, I did. And I’ve never been the same since I first touched you.”
It was all too much, his words, the memory, the sensation of your fingers sliding in and out so easily, the way he was talking making you so wet. Your high crashed into you like a truck, your back arching off the bed, your chest bumping into his as you came with his name on your lips.
“There she is, that’s my girl,” Rafe exhaled as you rode out your high. Eventually, your muscles gave out from the pleasure and you slumped back into the bed.
He watched you in rapture as your chest rose and fell with labored breaths, struggling to recover. Neither of you knew what to do next, the shock of what just happened washing over you. Your body was so exhausted from the chaos of the day and the aftershocks of your orgasm, all you wanted was him, and you were too tired to fight it.
“Rafe?” You whispered into the darkness of your bedroom, the light of the moon the only thing illuminating the small space.
“Yeah?” He whispered back.
“Can you hold me?” Your voice sounded so small, and you hated the vulnerability of your request, but at this moment the only thing you wanted in the world was to feel his arms around you.
“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” He teased gently.
“I said I’m getting better, not that I’m perfect,” you smiled, turning your body towards him. “And I want to know what it feels like to fall asleep in your arms. Just once.”
“Is it gonna be an issue?” He asked. You knew what he really meant was, “are you going to regret sleeping with an engaged man?”
The answer was yes, but you didn’t care.
“Just let me be a little selfish,” you said, turning around so your back was against his chest, pulling his arm around you. “I had you first.”
“You still have me,” he whispered against your neck, pulling your body into his.
“Shhh,” you said, lifting your fingers gently to his lips. “Go to sleep, Rafe.”
He smiled and did as he was told.
₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊
The sunlight landing on your face is what woke you from the deepest and sweetest sleep you’d had in six months. Your first instinct was to smile, humming in satisfaction as you stretched your well rested muscles.
Your second instinct was to reach for him. 
You shouldn’t be surprised, shouldn’t pull your knees to your chest, shouldn’t be crying alone in your cold bed. Of course he left. He was always going to leave.
Some small, pathetic voice in the back of your mind said, “maybe he just went to break things off with her.”
Even though it made you feel like the most pitiful girl in the world, you checked his location, still available from the night before. He was on Figure 8, the address you had gone to yesterday. He was at his wedding. 
He had wanted you to ask him not to marry her. He never would’ve said it, but you could see it on his face. He had too much to lose, too many people depending on him, too much weight on his shoulders. But maybe he would’ve given it all up, if only you’d asked.
You threw your phone across the room in frustration. Maybe you should’ve just asked him to stay with you, maybe you should’ve put your pride aside this one time, maybe this was all your fault. 
You were up and out of bed before you had time to talk yourself out of it. You pulled on your catering clothes from the night before. Surely, they wouldn’t let you in the gate if you looked like some wedding crashing pogue, but maybe you could slip in undetected if it seemed like you still worked there.
You don’t even remember driving there, your stomach on fire with nerves and something that might even be excitement, as you raced across the island. The clock in your car read 1:03pm, and you prayed to whatever god was listening that the ceremony had started late.
As you planned, they let you right in the gate when you said you were with the caterer. You didn’t even bother to park at the service entrance, your tires squealing as you came to a stop right in front of the house, leaving the engine running as you ran towards the ceremony site. You could hear music playing in the distance, hoping it was the processional. 
But when you turned the corner, you heard a large crowd break into applause. You came to a halt, backing up to hide under the cover of a tree a few yards from the end of the aisle. You watched as Rafe appeared, his beaming bride on his arm. He dipped her low, giving her a kiss as the crowd cheered again, the gold ring on his left hand glinting in the sunlight.
You were too late.
₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊
pt. 3 coming soon
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 hours
Text
Read II
England Lionesses x Child!Reader
Mary Earps x Child!Reader
Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar
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You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.
It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.
They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.
You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.
Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.
You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.
They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.
You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.
You don't count but it's definitely a lot.
Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.
You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.
"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."
"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"
You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."
"Are you sure? I can take you."
"No, Mary. My book, please."
"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.
You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.
"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."
You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.
"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.
"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"
"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."
"Like what?"
"Like that!"
Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.
"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"
Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"
Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"
Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"
Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."
Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.
It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.
The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.
Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."
She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.
This is all their fault, Mary knows it.
It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.
"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."
"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"
You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."
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pomefioredove · 2 days
Note
helloo! ^^ can I req hcs of dorm leaders + Rollo and neige with a fencer reader? If it's okay with you, ofc!! I really enjoy and love your writing 🫶
ofc and thank you! ^-^
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fencer reader
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, short
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Riddle would be into it. he goes on and on about what a dignified choice of sport that is, how he's always wanted to try it, on and onnn. I just think he's really into swords. he'll ask to watch you practice, all giddy and cute. the guy is genuinely fangirling
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona is like... okayyy. and? you can play with sharp objects? he grew up in a palace surrounded by guards and nobility, he probably had his first sword when he was three
defo challenges you to a duel because he thinks it would be funny. and he WINS
(then he buys you whatever you want as a consolation prize bc he's soft for you)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
[Azul voice] please no weapons or magic in the lounge
...you'll have to demonstrate for the (very eager and interested) tweels outside from now on
Azul will, of course, come to watch. he'd be interested in anything you do, really, because it's you. and watching you try to tell the tweels they can't really kill each other with these kinds of swords is amusing
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim is somehow 100% convinced he can teach himself how to fence within in a week. he thinks you're that cool, and, sevens does he want to play with swords. he probably has a lot of them, too, which Jamil very strongly advises him not to touch (because he has little regard for himself or his surroundings).
Kalim will let you take as many as you want when you come over. he does not know that these aren't the swords you use in fencing
still... um, it's the thought that counts, right?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
like with any sport, Vil can respect your dedication to your passion. and you have really good posture. he would get Epel to join you, but the thought of that boy with access to weapons of any kind, safe or not... yeah
he's nowhere near your level, of course, but he's always happy to help you with any aches or pains from bouts. in return, you can help him rehearse for roles that require swordsmanship. fair enough
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
the Neige Leblanche, swooning? yes, actually!! I can't overstate how much of a sucker he is for the whole... dashing and chivalrous thing. it's the sword, yes, but it's also the outfit, the rules, the way you're so... charming. you could pull him 100%
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Idia is a simple man. he sees someone being really good at a niche sport he knows from his fav manga and anime, and he absolutely trips over himself. literally head over heels. blushing, giggling, et cetera, he's just such a freak about this sort of thing (affectionately)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
ah, Malleus. if anyone here can appreciate swordsmanship in all its forms, it's him. with his royal guard and his knights and his freaky gothic castle...
he'll probably invite you to fence with him, and he completely wipes the floor with you (this is Malleus Draconia we're talking about, after all). but lovingly!
he's having the time of his life :)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
wakey wakey Rollo fans
to be engaged in a non-magical activity, based on agility, wit, and, arguably intelligence, in which there is form and order and rules...
of course, you have his full support
he somehow shows up at all your bouts, is with you before and after practice, and takes his duties as your companion very, very seriously
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Hi there! I just wanted to let you know that I love your games! Mushroom Oasis especially has an especially place in my heart. Mychael is such an interesting character and one of my favorite types of yanderes—not violent towards his object of affection but still manipulative and willing to cross lines even if he feels guilty about it. Thank you so much for the work you have done; it’s obvious this game is a labor of love and I am looking forward to see how the story progresses.
In the meantime, I have to ask, do you think there might be a future option where the player can cook for Mychael? Totally okay if that is a little too specific. Cooking is just a love of mine and I love to cook for people I love and I feel that is something that Mychael would appreciate.
Also—and forgive me if you have answered this already—but I was curious to see where Mychael’s affection lands on the scale you created by the end of day 3. Or would there be more than one answer since it seems actions taken on this day might start to split between the platonic and romantic routes.
Thank you again for your time and for creating this wonderful game. Your art is so lovely and you have a real knack for fun character design.
HELLO!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! For me personally I've never been a fan of "if I can't have you no one can <3" type yanderes so knowing that it's a shared sentiment means a lot!!
I actually have something of an idea where MC does something nice for Mychael for a change in Day 4!
It was closer to buying a gift and the players can choose what they'd get for him but adding a cooking/baking option (or a more diverse set of gifts rather than just shopping for it) seems like a good idea! As usual the script is still cooking so we'll see!
As for the charts, they're answered here and explained here!
Also,,, idk if you'll ever read the addition below but I'm holding back on gushing rn because uh, this is for you personally but it's basically an appreciation post for being one of my fave authors <3!!!:
AAAA A A 11 !! ??
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I'm gonna try and articulate myself in the best way I can but I have been a FAN of your writing since??? Gosh, 2015??? I was following your blog back when the pfp was a torchic (and a treecko i think??) and the header was Swiggity swiff Gotta Yiff ?? Idk if you're comfortable with people knowing of your writing but let me know if I should edit anything here!!!
I LOVED your writing so much it was silly and witty but you can do drama and heart and spicy just as well it was a major inspiration!!! I genuinely though it was a little goof when I saw you were following my blog the other day and THEN YOU SEND ME AN ASK??? IM, , , THROUGH THE ROOF, I would mention my fav fics of yours by name but I'd be outing myself but the scope is huge <3
I've been thinking of how to respond to this all DAY and decided to just be honest but but just know I love what you do <3 Admittedly idk if you still write these days but either way I hope you're doing well!!!! <3
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lizzieolseniskinda · 15 hours
Text
TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 3
part one | two | three - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)
(requests open)
SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?
WORD COUNT: 4921
GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)
CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)
NOT PROOFREAD :D - thank you for 200 followers 😭😭🫶
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you were walking through the hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. the sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red, it was a cold day without the sun. as you approached the gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted lucas - tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin, leaning casually against the wall
"there you are!" he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. "i've been look for you. fancy coming with me to hogsmeade? i've got some things to pick up, and i thought you could use a break from all the studying."
you raised an eyebrow, interested. "and by 'things', you mean what exactly?"
"important stuff!" lucas replied with mock seriousness. "like sweets from honeydukes and a new quill, since i keep losing mine. and, of course, we have to stop at zonko's - can't leave without some supplies for our next prank on maeve."
you let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few days years slip away. you figured you could use a shopping day - it was a saturday after all, you could just study after. "sounds like a plan, though i'm not sure if maeve would be happy with another one of your 'masterpieces'."
"she'll survive. besides, i've got a new idea that'll totally blow her mind, just wait and see," lucas nudged you, playfully.
as the you made your way down the long, winding path to hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. it seemed to be lingering just out of reach, you'd seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. it had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now as walking behind you and lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.
"look at that," you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. "it's been following me this enitre day."
lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. "huh, that's a little weird, don't you think? cats don't usually follow people around for no reason."
you crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. to your surprise, it didn't hesitate. the cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm, its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. you smiled, scratching it behind the ears.
"i think it likes me," you said, looking up at lucas. "maybe it's a stray. what do you think?"
lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious look. "it's a little too good to be true, don't you think? a mysterious black follow you around hogwarts. you know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?"
"you're paranoid," you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.
"i'm cautious," lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. "but if you're set on keeping it, we should make sure it's not... i don't know, an animagus or something. better safe than sorry, right?"
"you think someone's been using this little thing to spy on me?"
lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. "could be, perhaps. there's a simple charm to check for such things, it won't hurt the cat - you have my promise."
you stood up and took a step back, "okay, but i'm telling you, it's just a normal cat."
lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. a faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. it surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.
you both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever that was about to happen. but the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.
lucas let out a breath, "phew.. what do you know? it's just a regular old cat."
"told you," you smirked, "looks like you're now stuck with me and my new pet."
the cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words, let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. you knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. a bond was already beginning to form. the only problem was the lice and many more things that was scattered across its fur.
"alright, alright," lucas said, laughing. "i suppose it shouldn't be a problem."
with the cat in tow, you and lucas continued down the path to hogsmeade. the bustling village was already alive with students and locals, shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. as you entered honeydukes, the warmth of the shop's interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.
"so, what's your go-to sweet?" lucas asked as he grabbed a basket; eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.
"maybe the peppermint toads?" you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. "they're the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing."
lucas pulled a face, "you're a maniac. it's all about the fizzing whizzbees."
both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basked high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. at one point, lucas tried to sneak a handful of bertie bott's every flavour beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.
"you're not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!" you narrowed your eyes at him.
lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "fine, fine. i'll save it for someone else."
after stocking enough sweets to last long enough (almost a month), you and lucas headed to zonko's. the shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the weasley's.
it made you wonder if there was a weasley in this timeline, or a potter, surely there must-
"i've got it," lucas broke your trance, holding up a box nose-biting teacups. "we'll switch maeve's regular tea with one of these. can you imagine the look on her face?"
you shook your head, grinning, "you're terrible."
"hey! you're the one who agreed to come with me," he replied, winking. "makes you an accomplice."
after spending almost an hour in zonko's, you finally dragged lucas away before he bought the entire store. the two of you made your way back to hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.
"already thought of a name?" lucas asked as you strolled along the path.
you looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. "i'm not so sure yet, maybe something like 'shadow' maybe?"
"shadow," lucas mused, "hm, not bad, fits the while 'following you everywhere' thing it's got going on."
you laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat's fur against you. despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.
and as you and lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal. like you were just a regular student at hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.
you went to sleep that day feeling better already with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.
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the following morning you made your way down the main aisle, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. it was officially your second week at hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.
you reached the gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs, some of them had pancakes. they waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.
“morning y/n!” maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “sleep well?”
you poured yourself a glass, “pretty well, all things considered. i think i’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”
alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “weird ancient beds? try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! i had nearly headless nick hovering over my bed last night telling some kind of story about jousting. i barely slept.”
“better nick than peeves, though. that poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during charms yesterday,” maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.
you laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. these girls had made everything feel… lighter. the constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forget the real reason why you were here.
“mm, speaking of charms,” mave said, glancing at her timetable. “we’ve got it again this morning. think professor flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”
“i certainly hope so,” lilith spoke as quiet as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “right? i’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. imagine being ahle to summon an entire plate of pastries!” lucas exclaimed.
“as if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, luca,” alicia rolled her eyes.
they continued to chatter about the day ahead, while you found your gaze wandering around. the students were busy with their own conversations, some were studying, others were yawing over cups of tea while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. everything felt so normal.
when your eyes landed on the skye thing table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. you’d almost forgot about him.
tom riddle. he was sat at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. he was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast. speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.
you looked away quickly before his group - or him, could notice you staring. “you’re awfully quiet this morning,” maeve nudged you with her elbow.
“everything alright?”
you gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look to strained. “yeah, just thinking about today.”
“don’t worry about it too much, it’s only the second week,” lucas smiled. “besides, you’re part of the group now, we’re in this together.”
“no backing out,” lilith added, and for a second you thought you’d melted
you smiled, relaxing. you felt it reach your eyes, a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.
breakfast continued and so did the conversation to more light-hearted topic. alicia’s and lilith’s excitement about the next hogsmeade trip, lucas’ plans for another elaborate prank on their dormmate, and maeve’s ongoing battle with peeves. you listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.
maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “come on, y/n. let’s see if we can make it to flitwicks class before luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”
“i resent that,” lucas called over his shoulder, “but i do want more pastries.”
you smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the great hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.
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⋆。⋆˙⟡charms class:
when you arrived at the charms class it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. you took a seat next to maeve, on your left side - behind another desk with space in between you two, sat another girl - slytherin.
"good morning, everyone! today, we will be practicing summoning charms - accio!" professor flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class, as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.
an exciting murmur passed through the room. you realised how in their fifth year they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in harry's timeline you learned more defensive spells, or memory spells. the difference was huge.
summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like accio, while you could easily obliviate someone or use the patronus charm.
"partner up!" flitwick instructed. you turned to look at maeve, who was already grinning at you.
"i've been practicing this all week," maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. "let's see if i can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time."
"alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you're responsible ," you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.
meave pointed her and at one of the cushions flitwick had left for practice. "accio cushion!" she shouted, her wans slicing through the air.
the cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. "not bad, right?"
you clapped lightly, "that was impressive!"
maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you, "your turn!"
you focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. after a flick of your wand, you called out, "accio cushion!"
the cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and it knocked you back slightly. you laughed catching it just in time. maeve bursted into giggles beside you.
"well, at least it's working," you said with a grin, putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of tom. he was practicing at the far end of the classroom. he performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. his focus was intense, almost unnerving.
you quickly turned towards maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.
⋆。⋆˙⟡potions class:
the potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool, the only source of light was flickering. a mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to alicia at one of the tables near the back.
"right," alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. "i've got a good feeling about today's potion. we're supposed to make something simple, so there's no way i can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week."
you snickered. "simple or not, i still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic."
before alicia could respond, professor slughorn's jovial voice boomed across the room. "today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. quite useful for, uh, stressful situations." he winked at the class. "i'm sure none of you feel stressed, though."
you could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. you could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.
slughorn's face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. you gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup and the fluxweed oil.
"so, you think slughorn's going to invite you to one of his little parties?" alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.
you shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. "not very likely. i don't really know what those parties are even about," you lied. you went to one meeting with hermione, and decided to never go again. simply a waste of time.
alicia raised an eyebrow, "well, slughorn kinda 'collects' talented students. you're smart, plus you're new and kind. so, i'd say you're prime slug club material."
you smiled at her, "we'll see," you said quietly. "plus, i think riddle is in slug club," alicia whispered.
you almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. "sorry, what?" you gaped at her. she scoffed at you and smiled, "don't act dumb, i always see you looking at him."
your potion turned to a soft blue - that was a good sign. "what??? no i don't.." you mumbled and glanced over at alicia's cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.
"uh, alicia... are you sure you didn't add to much oil?" you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. "you're not getting out of this conversation, y/n," alicia said while she kept adding oil.
"no, no, i'm serious, look at those bubbles."
"oh, oops," alicia gasped, and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. "well, at least it's not melting this time."
you laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. potions was always a mix of stress and humor with alicia. seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.
⋆。⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:
in dumbledore's class there was a different energy in the air. the room was spacious and bright, high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. dumbledore was standing at the front. "today," dumbledore began, "we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations. turning inanimate objects into animals. quite the leap from last week's matchsticks to needles, wouldn't you say?"
maeve leaned over to you, whispering, "what if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?"
you snickered quietly.
dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the student's desks. "your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures to your choosing. a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. be gentle, and focus."
you pointed your wand at the stone, visualizing a small bird. with clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.
to your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. it fluttered its wings confused before hopping onto your desk.
"well, aren't you just the star pupil," maeve teased with a grin. she was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.
from the front of the class, dumbledore's eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. you continued helping maeve, when you caught a glimpse of tom riddle a few rows ahead. his magic was perfect - obviously. the stone in from of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.
you sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on maeve and her furry rock. there would be plenty of time to think about tom later, but the time was ticking and you knew it.
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shadow, the cat that you'd taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. you smiled down at him, shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. the cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.
"you like books, don't you?" you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.
the library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. you loved it in the library, it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.
wandering through the shelves you scanned the spines of he books you passed. every so often, you'd glance behind you to make sure shadow was still with you. reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - the founder's legacy: a history of hogwarts. it was a book you needed for your muggle studies.
you pulled it down and tucked in under your arm, turning to leave the aisle - but when you did, you noticed shadow was gone. "shadow?" you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. the silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.
frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. only a few students were scattered around the tables., their heads buried in their studies. then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.
at one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was tom riddle.
with shadow.
your breath caught in your throat. the sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of tom's open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. tom didn't seem bothered by the interruption. in fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.
for a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life's choices. seeing shadow so comfortable made your heart race. tom riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in and it made your situation feel even more surreal.
but only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at tom riddle.
so, you summoned up your courage, and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.
"looking for this?" his voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.
hearing tom's voice changed something in you, a warm feeling spread through you.
"yes," you said, your voice steady - trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. "i didn't realize he'd wandered off."
tom's eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you'd noticed in class. then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind shadow's eaer. the cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.
"he seems to like me," tom observed. you had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. "he's a friendly one."
"i can see."
you weren't sure how to respond to that. you cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for shadow. "well, i should get him out of your way, he's probably disturbing your reading. or studying, or whatever..."
tom didn't move at first, and for a brief second you thought he might not let you take back your cat. but the, he pulled his hand back. shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.
you cradled shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.
you felt tom's gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. "be careful," he said, his voice low. "not everything that follows you is harmless."
you blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. was that a warning? or something more? before you could reply, tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened.
a chill ran down your spine as you hugged shadow closer. your heart was pounding in your chest and you turned around.
tom's cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. you were halfway to the library's entrance when you spotted lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. he seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.
"there you are!" he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library's strit silence policy. he walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where tom was sitting. "i saw you ever there, chatting with riddle."
"yeah.. shadow wandered over to him," you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but lucas' presence helped a bit.
lucas smiled, "look, i'm just gonna say it: i've seen you stare at him with times, and you look like you've seen a ghost. whatever he's said to you-"
"he said something about not everything that follows you is harmless," you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.
"okay, stop. that's freakishly creepy," lucas gaped, stealing a glance at tom. "just.. try to ignore him. riddle's either got everyone thinking he's the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he's bloody weird."
your curiosity piqued, "and what do you think?"
lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. his grin returned, "both."
you chuckled at his bluntness, "both?"
you walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. "yeah, he's good looking. i mean, objectively speaking," lucas said. "but there's something about him that's off. like, he's too good at... well, everything. it's unnatural, people are drawn to him, but they're also.. i don't know, scared of him. you know? even if they don't want to admit it."
you nodded, thinking back how tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. there was definitely something unnerving about him. "he's strange. almost like he's always one step ahead of everyone."
"exactly," lucas agreed. "it's like he's playing a game no one else knows the rules to. trust me, best to keep your distance."
"i wasn't planning on making friends with him," you said, shifting shadow in your arms. the cat blinked lazily up at you.
"good, i've got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle," lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.
you let out a laugh, "thanks, lucas. i'll be sure to tell you first if i fet in over my head."
lucas grinned, "i'll be there, wand at the ready."
the two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with tom slowly began to ease. lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.
“anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about riddle. did you get what you came for? or are we heading back in for round two of ‘tom the cat whisperer’?”
you smirked, shaking your head. “no more rounds with him for today, thanks. i think i’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. but i do think i might've left my book in there."
lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “we'll get it first think tomorrow. and if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. i won't judge you.”
you rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “please. you know i prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”
“see? that’s the right attitude.” he gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “stick with me. i’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”
you couldn't help but smile back. as strange and intense as things had become, lucas was a constant source of light. maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.
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a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :( alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)
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m1njeongluvr · 1 day
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Cuddles and kisses
A/N: i have decided to probably continue writing 🙏🙏 i really wanted to do it for such a long time and i am now glad i got the chance to!!
Pairing: Winter (Aespa) x fem!Y/N
Warning: fluff, making out just gay shit
Requested: @pandoraha
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It was a regular weekend for you and Minjeong. Laying on the couch, eating snacks and binge watching movies. You were cuddled up together and covered by a soft blanket. You didn't want to get out of this position. Minjeong was looking for some movies to watch. "How about this one? It's romance."
You loved romance. Books, movies, videos anything romantic. Minjeong could swear you watched every single romantic movie to exist. She starts the movie and you cuddle up closer to her.
As the opening scene started the soft light of the tv screen covered Minjeong’s face in warm colors, making her features seem even more enchanting, it's like she is unreal. Occasionally stealing glances filled with admiration. Each playful chuckle, every raised eyebrow as the movie unfolded, further deepened your growing love for her.
Time went on and there was an interesting scene that started to unfold.. Two characters of the film.. kissing intensely.. making out even. Your heart raced not just from the intensity of the film, but the tension that grew between you and Minjeong. You could just feel the slight shift in the mood by the way Minjeong looked at you alone.
“Do you think love is really like that?” you whispered, your voice soft as you turned to face her. Minjeong paused, her gaze flicking towards you, her expression contemplative.
“Sometimes, I think it can be even more intense,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief and something deeper.
Encouraged by the tension between you two, you leaned closer, the space between you bearly existing. Minjeong's breath cought in her throat, her heart started pounding in her ears.
You placed your hands on her cheeks and kissed her. It felt like the time stopped, like you could go on for hours with no end. Your lips practically made for eachother. Minjeong's hands traveled to your waist and pulled you closer. The intensity of the kiss kept getting stronger each second that passed.
Every nerve in your body buzzed with exhilaration as you lost yourself in her warmth. You could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own frantic pulse.
You pulled back momentarily, breathless and wide-eyed, you felt different emotions at once. "Minjeong.." Minjeong’s gaze held a mix of surprise and exhilaration, and at that moment, you knew there was no turning back.
You leaned in again, as you slowly melted back into the kiss, she responded with a fervor that surprised you, her hands pulling you even closer, hands wandering over your back. The warmth of her body against yours sent shivers down your spine. She was really warm... It could have been because of the blanket or from the intensity of the kiss.
You could feel the flutter in your stomach, the growing desire intermingling with the sweetness of the moment. A soft sigh escaped her, vibrating against your mouth, deepening your resolve.
“Is this… okay?” you managed to whisper in between breaths, the intimacy of the moment both thrilling and terrifying.
You could feel Minjeong's smile against your lips. “I think it’s more than okay.” her voice barely a whisper, laced with a teasing tone. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you back in, her kiss now filled with a heat that caught you off guard.
Your hands moved from her cheeks to get tangled into her silky hair.
It's like the kiss started something in you. A feeling to explore every inch of her warm body, but you won't take it too far... for now.
You pull back from the intense kiss. Slowly trying to control your breathing. When you finally realised what happened you snuggle your head in her chest, heat rushing to your face. “You're unbelievable,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she gave you a soft grin, biting her lip playfully. “I could say the same about you." she teased, her fingers tracing lightly down your back.
You let out a small chuckle. "You are such an idiot." You pull back from her chest and kiss her softly.
After around a minute Minjeong pulls back "okay okay enough now.. let's go to bed." You turn off the tv and wrap your hands around her, cuddling her closely. You both fall asleep together, getting drunk with eachothers warmth after the passionate night you shared.
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funkyplantguy · 1 day
Note
grian gets saved by hotguy and then pines over him <3
so this "au" (if you can even call it that when it exists exclusively in my brain and now in this ask) is mostly crack and comes from me joking around a couple days ago with some friends so...don't take it too seriously. that being said...
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you have (3) new comments! view now?
click.
areeongreenday: hey! so this is insane.
click.
h0tguysnumber0n3fan: i guess i kind of understand where you're coming from with this - scar goodman and hotguy do share a similar sense of humor, and i sort of see what you're saying at 47:03 when you compared their voices (more specifically, the inflection they use on specific words) but...i guess i'm having a hard time imagining scar as a superhero. don't get me wrong - he's plenty cool, but...didn't he say that he's a full-time content creator now? i don't know that he'd really have the time to record, edit, and post videos on top of saving the city on a near-daily basis. interesting theory, though! admire the dedication.
click.
scargoodman: ;)
and there it was, taunting him - that damn winky face, yet again, commented nearly instantaneously each time grian uploaded a new video about the man itself. scar goodman - known to many as the man who had risen to sudden fame in the video essayist community with his charming good looks and boisterous personality. scar goodman, whom grian suspected was secretly none other than the city's beloved superhero. after all, they'd both made their debuts within a week of each other and shared not only a similar path of success but a similar sense of humor, a similar speaking style, a similar body type, a similar laugh...sure, there were things that didn't quite line up, but...for the most part, they appeared to be the exact same person.
okay - maybe grian was a little obsessed. but what was he supposed to do, not point out the obvious?
what made matters worse was that nobody seemed to believe him. no matter how many videos he posted, no matter how much proof he gave...nobody was willing to hear him out.
nobody except scar goodman himself, who seemed intent to drive him absolutely insane.
grian grumbled something to himself, pocketing his phone and continuing down the long, narrow sidewalk to his apartment complex. he'd lost track of time at work yet again, and as a result, the sun had long set. this wasn't unusual for him - he often opted to remain late in the office to "finish up a few things" (ie take advantage of the functional wifi his workplace offered instead of trying to upload videos on his crummy home network), so he was...fairly comfortable tracing the path back to his apartment in the dark of night. the street lights in this part of town didn't work exceptionally well, but with the familiarity of it all and the dull light of the moon, grian typically fared well enough.
tonight, however...well, call him paranoid, but...something felt...off. something about the way all the buildings around him were dark, indicating that their inhabitants were either asleep or out (and entirely unreachable if grian were to call for help). something about the absence of the various stray cats that he often crossed paths with. something about how the complete and utter silence made his ears ring.
"aw, what's this? a cute guy? well, pretty boy, you've just entered the wrong part of town at the wrong time. unfortunately, loose lips sink ships, or...uh...however the saying goes, so...sorry, i can't let you leave this visit alive."
before grian could even register the words being spoken (where were they even coming from?? above him? below him? behind him? everywhere, all at once?), he felt hands gripping the back of his shirt. in another moment, he was on the ground, his breath clawing its way out of his chest. above him stood a figure, shrouded in darkness and the billowing, starry cape draped across their shoulders. in their hands was something glinting, something sharp, something deadly -- something that grian's frazzled, spinning mind was unable to put a name to. or maybe it refused to - refused to name the tool that would be his doom. maybe it was better that way, he mused idly, as the figure raised it high above their head. maybe it was best to not know.
"hey! there you are - what did i say about running off?"
and just as quickly as he'd accepted his death, the threat of it was gone, vanquished by the appearance of the tall, costumed man on the rooftop adjacent. grian felt his breath return to his chest in one fell swoop, filling his lungs and sending a wave of sensitivity to his throat. he coughed, hard, tears welling helplessly in his eyes, and the newcomer's attention snapped to him in an instant.
"oh - and you've made a friend! how nice. unfortunately, there are no plus ones in prison."
"hotguy," grian's would-be murderer snarled. "i thought i'd lost you."
"nah. i may have gotten lost, sure. but you didn't lose me. there's a difference."
"you'll wish that i'd lost you when i'm through with you."
"oh, that was lame!" the man cried, hopping over the low rooftop wall and landing neatly on the ground below (how he did it, even grian wasn't sure. by all intents and purposes, his legs shouldn't have that level of shock absorption, even if he had been fed some chemical cocktail by a mad scientist at a young age as he boasted). "listen - we've got to get you a better catchphrase."
hotguy strode forward, his eyes glinting behind his tinted visor. he glanced to grian out of the corner of his eye, then back to the villain - then back to grian again, his mouth going slack in surprise. grian met his gaze - took in his appearance - and let out a bark of laughter, one not missed by either scar goodman or the cloaked figure in front of him. scar returned his laughter, throwing his head back and planting his hands firmly on his hips.
"well, what a coincidence," he giggled, after a moment. "my new catchphrase just so happens to be "subscribe to my youtube channel."
"what?" their third demanded, glancing between the two. "what are you talking about?"
"oh my god. there's no way. there's no way. how - how am i the only one who knows? how am i the only one who suspects?? it's obvious - it's so obvious."
"what's obvious?"
"i know, right? i make it as obvious as possible, and still...still, nobody puts two and two together. well...nobody except for you, apparently. i guess that you're just...special."
"why don't you just come out and say it?" grian mused, propping himself up on his elbows and ignoring the sputtering from their newly acquired third wheel. "i feel like if you said it - either as scar goodman or hotguy - people would have to believe it, no?"
a strange look came over hotguy's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
"ah...i don't think that would change anything. plus, i have this thing with this cute guy where he tries to tell everyone my identity and i egg him on to get him to make more silly videos. i would hate to give that up."
he winked, and grian felt warmth climb his cheeks. gone was the fear, gone was the panic, gone was the darkness and the creeping, crawling sense of unease - instead, there was only curiosity, burning brightly in his chest. he wanted to talk to scar - hotguy - for hours, wanted to pull the object of his obsession apart to see what made him tick, then put him back together again, just to see what would happen. he wanted to get to know who hotguy was underneath the suit - and who scar goodman was with the suit. he'd wanted (he'd wanted for so long) and it felt like maybe...just maybe...he'd get to have.
"hey! what the hell is going on?"
"oh, right," hotguy chuckled, turning his attention to the third member of their party. "sorry - didn't mean to ignore you. here - sit tight, for real this time. the police will be here soon."
"dude, i'm just going to leave again. do you really not have handcuffs or something?"
"who needs handcuffs when you have a cub to design fancy gadgets for you?"
"a...a what?" the figure asked, then yelped, startled, as something exploded out of the cuff on hotguy's wrist. a net, affixing itself neatly to their body, wrapping them up in a cocoon of their own folly. grian stared at it, humming in approval.
"nice."
"thank you! it's new."
"i know."
"i bet you do," scar responded, and grian flushed further at the teasing edge his tone took on. "i bet you know almost everything about me, at this point. obsessed, much?"
"i could say the same," grian huffed back, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his jeans (there was a rip in one leg, now, he noticed with a frown). "you recognized me, like, immediately. it's pretty dark out, too - sounds like you're the one obsessed."
"what can i say - you're pretty and smart. i happen to like my men pretty and smart."
grian sputtered incoherently in response, all confidence gone out the window. oh god - he was even more charismatic in person, even in costume. and god, was the costume more attractive in person, as well - baggy cargo pants and a tight, fitted top that exposed his tanned midriff. not the most tactical, sure - but damn was it hot.
"you can't say that," he moaned, covering his reddened cheeks with his hands. "oh my god. i hate you. i've known you for five minutes and i already hate you."
"sure you do," scar responded, grinning. "i - oh, hold on."
he raised his hand and tapped the earpiece affixed to the side of his head, concentrating. after a moment, he sighed - and for just a second, grian thought that his shoulders drooped in exhaustion. as quickly as they sagged, however, scar was straightening, turning back to grian with an easy smile.
"sorry, handsome, duty calls. are you alright to get back home on your own? i doubt this guy will be giving you any more trouble. those nets are pretty sturdy."
"wait!" grian sputtered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest (no, no, he couldn't let scar slip through his fingers, not now, not when he was finally so close). "don't go - i...can i see you again?"
scar's smile wobbled around the edges, and any panic grian felt was replaced with guilty - heavy and suffocating (though he wasn't sure why)
"ah...isn't it more fun, this way? don't you like the chase? isn't that exhilaration enough for your pretty little head?"
"i mean...it's a fun hobby, yeah, but -,"
"then we'll stick to the status quo. after all, i'd hate to rob you of your favorite hobby. goodnight, grian. can't wait for your next video."
and with a wink, he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows so quickly grian could have sworn he was made of them. and grian...well. he had an apartment to get home to, a cat to feed...and a chase to continue. and maybe, someday, if he was fast enough...he'd catch up.
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lilacgaby · 1 day
Text
title: i'd fight the sun for you, my love
pairing: barbarian!kirishima x borrower!reader
summary: when kirishima finds you, a tiny human(?), stealing from his things, he finds that you've stolen his heart as well.
notes: ask, secret life of arriety inspired bc that movie is so cute, yandere kinda
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kirishima was sunbathing out in an open field. he had just finished a long treck through the caverns of a dragon. he was finally shutting his eyes.. when he heard a scuffling noise behind him.
he turned around to see.. a small human grabbing all his jewels? a needle keeping your hair held up, a fitted red leotard and leggings encapsulated you as you stuffed thing after thing into your small bag.
at the realization you'd been caught, you'd dropped all your splendors and ran to go back to your home, a hole in the ground.
it was too late though, the barbarian was faster and caught you easily.
he looked you over, sitting you in his palm as he examined.
"do you.. understand me?"
you nodded, feeling odd under his gaze. you were taught to fear people like him, to never let a human see you, to run as fast as you could away.
this guy was making all your red flags go off. sharp teeth? jewelry? tall? he had abs?
"what are you? some kind of elf?"
"i'm a borrower! not some elf!"
"huh? okay.. ms borrower.. why were you stealing my stuff? that's really expensive you know."
"it's what we do! and you can always get more random guy."
"that's not the point-- it's the principle."
"whatever! let me go to my home!"
"what's wrong..?"
he let you down, bending down to the grass to let you scurry to your home.
he turned around, getting ready to lay back down when he heard rushed running back. you tapped on his legs, tears in your eyes.
"[name]. and there's a- a spider. can you kill it for me? it's in my house!" you wailed, clinging to his leg.
"oh. i got you [name], im eijiro, just.. hold on."
he put you on his shoulder, looking at the small hole you called home.
he set off a bit of fire into the hole, killing the spider,
but burning all your things along with it.
".. did you just incinerate all my stuff."
he rubbed the back of his neck. "oops?"
you yelled directly into his ear, making him promise to travel with you until he got back all your stuff.. plus interest.
he agreed, and so it began.
he grew infatuated you to a strange degree, you'd catch him staring at you often, always wanting you in his arms.
you'd be safe that way, he assured you.
if anything so much as made you flinch it'd get incinerated.
it progressed as your travels did, the satchel with your stuff getting bigger and bigger.
he'd make note of all the things you'd like to eat, to do, to read, he'd fill your days with stories and happy memories.
he'd make sure you slept comfortably, foraging cotton and leaves so you'd sleep on a plush bed.
he'd never make you go hungry, adding days worth of travels onto his journey just to get you your favorites.
he'd dress you now too, grabbing flowers and snipping pieces of his fabric to decorate you.
like a little doll.
but his possessive nature grew too, it started only with bugs, but it ended with creatures. other humans too, he'd even hurt one of your own kind.
but it was all for you wasn't it? don't make him feel guilty, you're just so helpless, so small.
you couldn't leave, you needed your stuff back right? you needed him.
you realized, even though you weren't in a cage, you'd been caught.
and you could never escape the barbarian, who was now planning on taking you to his home. forever.
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tag: @eyeofthetiger501
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sp-by-april · 3 days
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Dying To Know [Ch. 01]
Okay, so this is a slasher/yandere fic. It's also like, the first chapter and mostly laying the groundwork for everything to come.
It's Eric, Kenny, Kyle, Stan x F!Reader. No Smut this chapter, but I promise we will get there. 😭
Summary: There's a slasher on the loose and students at South Park High are being taken out one by one. You're at the center of it all, and it doesn't help that each of your four best friends is acting weird.
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[Read on Ao3] [South Park Master Lists]
Heidi Turner was scared. She’d been stalking – No, investigating The New Girl again. Heidi followed her home as she walked with Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric. They were completely stupid about that chick, constantly following her around like fresh hatchlings that imprinted on the wrong creature. It made Heidi sick.
They walked her home, argued about walking her home – who said what, who touched her where or too much – and then they split up. Eric headed to his place, Kyle and Stan to the Broflovski’s and Kenny to… wherever the fuck of several places Kenny liked roam to instead of going home.
She considered approaching Kyle first, but she went to Eric instead.
“The New Girl isn’t what you think,” Heidi pleaded with him, but Eric waved her off.
He called her a jealous psycho and it made Heidi’s blood boil. She stalked home and fumed the whole way. As she stepped onto her front porch, Heidi heard a familiar chime from her purse. It was a text message. She pulled out her cell, (a trendy, freshly purchased LG Chocolate) and opened the text.
It said only two words: Come back.
She rolled her eyes. It was 2006 and cell service was supposedly improving but the shit was still consistently spotty in Park County. Of course she didn’t get the text until she was already home, that was just her luck.
Heidi turned around and headed back to Eric’s.
🕐 🕕 🕚
High school is tough for everyone, but I had an especially rough junior year. My father died, and my mother moved us back to her hometown. I think it was a comfort thing for her. It was a bumfuck place in some flyover state that I’d only ever been a few times to visit extended family members that I never liked or cared about.
South Park, Colorado. There were two temperatures, cold and colder. Almost everything was covered in a layer of melting ice that somehow never finished thawing. Snow crunched under my heels like skeletons of the friends I left behind.
Once we moved, my mother completely checked out. I was pretty much left to fend for myself. The whole thing was overwhelming. Luckily, I ended up with a group of new friends.
Eric Cartman was…. Weird. I thought the guy hated me most of the time. He would always make subtle digs about my family, something I said, or an item of clothing I was wearing. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to realize that he was pretty much negging me. I couldn’t escape the guy, either. He was in most of my classes and for whatever reason if there was a group project, we always got paired up. At first, I only put up with him because I liked his other friends so much.
Stan Marsh was hot in an obvious way. Great body. Started a band called Crimson Dawn and they played gigs regularly. He had this kind of tortured artist vibe that I really dug. He reeked of inner turmoil, you know what I mean? I was always a sucker for that kind of thing.
I got close to Stan first, and fast. He would walk me to class. Eat lunch with me. Invite me to shows. It was actually at one of his bands shows that I started getting close to Kenny.
Kenny McCormick was an interesting guy. Obviously, I saw him around school and knew him through Stan, but he was surprisingly social. He got along well with everyone. One night we got drunk and just talked about how much our parents sucked. He was so easy to talk to and he’s a really funny guy. I like him a lot. As I got to know him more, I realized that one of the things that made Kenny special was that he had secrets. I tried not to pry too much
As a matter of fact, all the guys were pretty easy to get to know.
Except for Kyle.
Kyle Broflovski was kind of an enigma at first. A basketball player at the top of his classes. He didn’t start fights, but he’d finish them. He had a bold streak that I really admired. I don’t know what his deal was, but it seemed like he had kind of a wall built up. He was hard for me to get to know at first. I always felt awkward around him.
Which sucked, because I was crushing really hard.
I always thought Eric would be the one keeping me out of the friend group, but from what I heard, the resistance came from Kyle. It was a huge blow to my ego.
I’m not trying to brag when I tell you this, but I’m a pretty girl and I’ve never really had trouble when it comes to guys. Attention from men is so easy to come by, it’s practically worthless… You know what I mean?
But Kyle was withholding. It just made me crush harder.
Once I was informally part of the friend group, I didn’t fit in like a missing puzzle piece or whatever poetic metaphor that would’ve completed the fantasy… It was more like we were all a bunch of feral dogs that latched onto each other for safety while we navigated the perils of young adulthood.
When senior year started, things were pretty normal. It was our first day of our last year and I was at the bus stop with the guys. Stan was smoking a cigarette and Kenny was unsuccessfully trying to get him to share. Eric was ranting about something some celebrity said, while Kyle and I were doing our best to ignore him. I was wearing an unseasonably short skirt with a comically large sweater. The leaves were crunching under my maryjanes while I did a dance familiar to any girl who once pretended she wasn’t freezing her ass off for the sake of being cute.
Then I heard something. Like screaming. It was coming towards us.
Kyle exchanged a look with me, and Kenny’s head shot up. Stan glanced around. Eric finally got the memo but by then we all saw him.
Butters was running right for us, yelling something indecipherable. 
By the time he reached us, he was panting so much that we still couldn’t understand him.
“Hyhe!,” Butters panted as he bent over and rested his palms on his knees, “Hyhee’s gone,”
Eric frowned at him, “Try it again, but this time say it in English,”
“She’s dead” Butters continued and we all understood that.
Kyle took a step towards him, “Who’s dead?
Butters looked up, his eyes darting between Kyle and Eric, “...Heidi Turner,”
It was like the oxygen had been sucked right out of the atmosphere. I only knew Heidi because we were both on the A-Squad in Cheer, but I guess her ties to my friends ran a lot deeper. 
I’d been in town six months, but I still had a lot to learn about everyone. 
The bus ride to school was illuminating. I sat in between Stan and Kenny. Eric and Kyle sat in front of us. Neither of them said a word. Every student around us was buzzing, discussing Heidi’s death and theorizing about the hows and whys.
“It’s a twisted mess,” Stan said quietly as his eyes rolled to the sky, “She bounced back and forth between them for like two years,”
Kenny put his arm around my shoulder and his mouth hovered over my ear, “Until you showed up,” 
“Weird coincidence,” I said, tugging at the hem of my sweater.
“Maybe,” Stan lifted Kenny’s arm off of me and he leaned back against the seat, “Maybe not,”
My eyes narrowed, “What the hell does that mean?”
Stan sighed and shook his head.
Kenny’s head tilted as he looked at me, “You’ve gotta kn–”
“Shut up,” Stan groaned.
Kenny frowned and did just that.
He crossed his arms and we were as silent for the rest of the ride as Eric and Kyle were.
I know it was selfish, but I was frustrated. I had only just started making headway with Kyle and now his ex-girlfriend had to go and die. It’s kind of the worst time in the History of Everything to ask a guy out.
When we all piled out of the bus Principal Victoria was there. She pulled aside Eric, Kyle…. And me.
We sat in her office with Sergeant Yates. It was the most awkward I ever felt in my life. To make things worse, I couldn’t figure out why I was there. I was sure there had to be some mistake.
There wasn’t.
Cartman crossed his arms, “Look – Heidi died and we all knew her. We don’t need a counseling session,”
Kyle slumped back in his chair and agreed with Eric for once, “He’s right,”
Yates looked between the three of us, “No talking,”
Kyle’s face twisted up and I could tell he was resisting the urge to push back. Honestly, so was I.
The door opened and Detective Murphy’s head popped into the room, “Okay, we’ve got the cheerleaders,”
Yates pointed to me, “Take this one,”
“Is she the one–”
“Yeah,” Yates gestured for me to stand and I obeyed.
Murphy had a distinct grimace on his face as I walked towards him. His facial expression combined with the way they talked about me didn’t inspire confidence.
Waiting in the hall were my other squad members, Nichole Daniels, Bebe Stevens and our captain, Wendy Testaburger. We followed the Detective to our counselor’s office. We stood around for like a half hour and he ushered us outside and into a police van. 
They drove us down to the station and finally brought us into an interrogation room.
I sat next to Bebe and tried to ignore her as she pulled a nail file out of her purse and went to work. Nichole looked at me nervously, “Do they think we’re suspects?” “I doubt it,” Wendy said emphatically, “We still have all our belongings”
Wendy was right. They would’ve taken our backpacks and purses, but they didn’t. So what did that mean?
We waited for what felt like hours until Yates could come back to the station and talk to us. He wasn’t alone – He’d brought our parents.
He looked between us nervously, “I’m gonna cut to the chase. Heidi Turner was murdered,”
Gasps, groans and a heavy air of fear fell over the room like a shroud.
“What’s this got to do with our daughters?” Mrs. Daniels said, “Surely you don’t think they’re capable–“
“We think they could be the next victims,” He continued.
Dead silence.
“We can’t divulge too much information on a current case but we found trinkets belonging to each of you, scribblings that appeared to be satanic – and an obsession with one of you in particular,”
“Who?” Mr. Testaburger asked.
Yates pointed directly at me. 
My mother was aghast. He gave no more details. He just told our parents to lock us down, and to get out of town if we had the means. ‘Think of it like a short vacation,’ I think were the words he used. Then he sent us home. 
None of us went back to school that day.
It didn’t matter, because about an hour later the students at South Park High were informed that the day had been cut in half and they were going home. About an hour after that, word started to spread that there would be a county-wide mandatory curfew for anyone under 18.
It was about another hour after that that I heard something tapping at my window.
I had been staring at my bedroom ceiling listening to the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, just rotting in bed. I hopped up and struggled to open the misshapen window. Once I had it up I saw the guys standing below me. Stan waved, Kenny grinned and dropped a handful of pebbles to the ground, Eric gave me a dismissive nod and Kyle had his back to the house.
I hung half way out the window so I could talk to them without my mother hearing, “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t hear?” Stan blinked as he looked up at me, “They canceled school,”
“The real question is what’re you still doing up there?” Kenny asked.
“You didn’t hear?” I playfully mocked Stan’s previous tone, “I’m on lock down,”
Kyle turned around and looked up at me. I think my heart skipped a beat as he stepped towards my window. I had an instant fantasy in my head of him climbing up the trellis.
“Do they think you’re in danger?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I glanced away from him as I sheepishly admitted the truth, “Apparently they found some creepy shrine to me or something,”
The guys all exchanged a series of looks. I thought I caught most of it, but honestly a lot of their short-hand still went over my head. 
Kyle frowned at Kenny. Kenny shook his head and then looked up at me, “When’s your mom leaving?”
“Twenty minutes give or take,” I shrugged, “Assuming she doesn’t catch you guys out here,”
Stan nodded. Kenny saluted. Kyle turned back around and Eric followed suit. I’d never seen those two so in sync. 
What a weird fuckin’ day.
It was about to get a lot weirder.
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dukecollinsbf · 2 days
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darlin's unempowered friend hcs :3 also masc darlin oc mentioned A LOT! (who's surprised)
his name is trevor o'connor. he's half korean (mom's side) and was born in northern ireland, belfast specifically, before moving to america around the same time that julius (darlin) came to Dahlia, so they quickly became friends because they were both new and had no clue what to do with themselves
he moved away because his mom abandoned him and his dad and his dad, tiernan, didn't really know what to do with himself and moved to america where his brother was. (tiernan is a triplet!) his dad eventually remarried to charlotte and is now extremely happy. trevor loves char!! he has younger siblings from her (that sounds weird? idk how else to word it) and she's overall just one of those mothers that radiate sunshine but does NOT play abt her kids
julius has a bunch of nicknames for him. It went from Trevor to Trev to T to TT (Tee-tee) then titty then Mr. Titty. It's like when you give your dog a nickname and then it escalates into something completely different 
neither of these dudes can walk straight. widawee. like they bump into each other or walk in front of each other and get mad like "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"
they were both losers... they were both pretty boys, but losers. like if they were extroverts and didn't have interests that were considered "weird" then they probably would've been more popular in school
before moving to america, trevor forgot to break up with the girl he was dating so it looked like he literally just disappeared. one time during lunch at school trevor did a big ol sigh like "SIGHH.... man i miss my gf.." and julius was like WHAT r u even talking about......
one time he buzzed and bleached his hair and julius called him eminem for a week and a half before trevor got mad and made julius dye it silver, and when it grew out he had those like tiny little spikes with dark roots and he thought he was the SHIT (he was.)
allergic to pineapple 
dyslexic
his favourite number is 8. julius' is 7. 
after being attacked by quinn, trevor never blamed julius
julius tried to cook for him when he got discharged from the hospital and trevor was like "what... even is this.." 
he didn't eat it. julius ordered him something and ate his creation himself cus he hates wasting food
monster lover, julius is a redbull lover
trevor is also a WHORE for a dr. pepper
one time when they were 14, they tried feeding a stray dog which lead to julius being bitten HARDDD like this dog held on for dear life. afterwards, they hopped on trevor's bike and went to marie's. halfway there trevor asked if julius was okay and julius was just like "are you serious."
they always argue over shit like soccer vs football, chips vs fries, scone vs biscuit, etc. all julius can say to defend himself is "im not from this country."
once he was caught in a lie and trevor replied with "i have an accent, you don't know what i said."
do not have a srs talk around these two. they'll make eye contact and lose their shit
julius wanted to start a band and trevor was like dude we have literally no friends what are you talking about
they used to cuddle platonically all the time, especially when all the quinn shit was going on
trevor has horrendous handwriting. julius makes fun of him when his own handwriting isnt any better, but he defends himself by saying you can read it and that's all that matters
julius : i made u a friendship bracelet :3
trev; thats gay
julius: ok fuck u damn give me it back
trev: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEAAAAAAAAAASE
trevor has a ginger little cat with one eye who's called pearce 
one time julius and trev's apartment building caught on fire cus of shitty wiring and julius had to sit outside in just baggy sweatpants and trevor was sitting out there on the curb in just underwear and a pair of slippers cus it was like 2am
julius: ur so annoyi-
trevor: UR APARTMENT BURNED DOWN!!!!!
even tho it was his apartment too and they literally lose half their shit to the fire
trevor's little sister made him mad one time and he told her the tooth fairy wasn't real
they worked together for a while and both got fired cus they both have anger issues and were also so unserious. like they'd end up on the floor with laughter mid shift.
he hated david for a long ass time. he'd refer to him as bitch boy. he loved asher tho and thought milo was a little too intimidated for a short guy (sassy man apocalypse.)
he has an eyebrow piercing and a few small tattoos, he's scared of needles but wanted to look cool
he didn't know about magic until he got attacked by quinn and was about to pass out from blood loss and he fully thought it was a hallucination. then julius came to him in the hospital like you'll never believe this...
EVER SINCE THEN, julius has no peace.
werewolf reaction pics. dog jokes. julius' birthday gift after trev found out was a squaky toy and on halloween he dressed up as the most cliche werewolf ever and said he was julius. (creds to aster). he used to call it transforming instead of shifting and julius would be like THATS NOT WHAT ITS CALLEDDDDDDDDDDDDD.
"man, im bored... wanna go play fetch?" "ur hairs getting long... i'll take u to the dog groomers." "do u want a pedigree??"
THIS IS KINDA WHAT TREV LOOKS LIKE!! (awooga booga *hearts pop out of my eyes and my tongue drops out of my mouth and rolls across the grounf like a red carpet)
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also this pic (ik it doesn't look like my darlin oc or Trev) is so them
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DAMN CAN I YAP!!!
tags - (i lurv u guys)
@achios @aurorialwolf @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @tgckceo @astrodude-87 @krashkitty @cozy-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @porters-fangs @n0r
cus u guys eat up my hcs.
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veilkeeper · 1 day
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okay minor DA:V spoilers regarding that one passive on the skill tree
....
but i think the mortalitasi passive that is literally just blood magic is actually a really interesting look at how the chantry has to make exceptions to their own ideology in order to maintain its hegemony. like i know some people are upset about it because it's just blood magic under another name, but let's play in this space for a second.
in orlais, ferelden, even the free marches, all blood magic is a hard no. using your own blood to power spells is the territory of maleficars, if you get caught you're fucked. but in nevarra, where the mortalitasi and the associated funeral rites are very important culturally, exceptions are made. so even though it is in direct conflict with some really important ideas about acceptable magical practices and the nature of spirits, the chantry sort of has to strategically loosen the reins in order to maintain some amount of power and presence in nevarra.
they do a similar thing with the seers in rivain, too, where people are allowed to practice "hedge magic" (and even let spirits possess them, as is indicated by some codex entries), because they know that trying to stamp out those cultural practices will just lead to stronger opposition to the chantry overall.
it's sort of interesting to see where the chantry forces assimilation and where they take a backseat and let some things go. it's especially interesting to see where that intersects with cultural ideas around magic and spirits.
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ashleyfableblack · 3 days
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"Okay… what about this one?" Queen Twilight tapped a hoof on the page. With a soft glow of her horn she drew out the complex symbol in the air as she sounded it out. "Vah… Lahk. Varahk? Varrac!"
Chrysalis smiled. "Perhaps…" She sleepily craned her neck to study her most recent clutch of eggs. A sticky green resin held the precious charges in place, dangling from a nearby rocky overhang. As the wind funneled through the natural arch, they gently swung, rocked as a baby in a crib.
With a puff of her cheeks she blew a gust of glittering pinkish light in their direction. The love energy swirled around the eggs like an octopus ink, clouding the air in a warm soupy fog before it was absorbed into the tiny grey orbs. The as-yet-unborn gobbling up the nourishment from their mother. Chrysalis gave a sleepy yawn and began to slowly drift to laying on her side,. She wondered if they, too would have violet eyes like their little lavender pony other-mother.
"Chryssi?" Twilight gave her wife a gentle prodding with her wingtip. "Honeybug?"
"MRZussaffm…" Chrysalis's eyes struggled open.
Twilight gave an pleading grin at the pitifully adorable sight of the little larvae nuzzled around her bughorse bride as they tucked into the translucent tresses of her cobweb-mane. "Chryssi…?"
Chrysalis chittered to one of the larvae and gave her an affectionate nip, removing a flake of molting chitin. "I'm sorry, beloved. I'm just-" she yawned again . "You know your pony naming conventions are so unnecessary to our changelings. They're hatched knowing their designations through the hive-mind."
Twilight pouted with a pleading smile as she leafed through the pages of the incredibly ancient book. "I know it's a point of cultural confusion between our races, beetlebum. That's why I'm trying to incorporate more of your culture and try some names more familiar to your people and your people's history- while at the same time educating myself on the Ancient Equish language and history." She held the book aloft in her magic with a prideful flourish, still carefully keeping her place in its pages. "THUS, we are using one of your old journals from the pre-Sucrosian Period!"
Chrysalis sighed and gave a playful roll of her eyes in surrender. She had to chuckle. When Twilight was like this, she truly couldn't deny her little wife anything. She watched with interest as Twilight opened her old journal. Two of their larvae quickly skittered from the navy waves of her wife's mane to climb on the millenia-old manuscript. Excited to help their ponymother, they chittered happily, holding the page in place with their forelimbs.
"So…. Varrac?" Twilight asked with a bright, curious smile.
"Well, she was good with snakes."
Twilight looked from the ancient book to one of the tiny changeling larvae cuddled into her crest of alicorn chest-fluff. "Are you a 'Varrac'? Are you going to be good with snakes?"
The tiny face lit up like a Hearthswarming bonfire at her ponymother's excited smile. She hissed out her tiny forked tongue and wiggled her little caterpillar-like rump of a tail segment. Twilight fawned with motherly pride and nosed at the tiny changeling babe. "I'll bet you will be. Of course you will. You look just like a Varrac."
Chrysalis adored moments like these, lazy afternoons together with her wife, watching her excitement and pride as she learned new things. Pouring over old volumes of any sort, Twilight came to life in a whole other way. Knowledge was her passion.
"Let's see here… What about… This one, V….Vaaa….Varghan?"
Chrysalis peered over the tome. "Vabam. As I recall she …was good with secrets…. good at telling them anyways."
Twilight crinkled her nose at that thought. Looking to one of the larvae she shook her head. "That doesn't sound like you, does it?" The tiny changeling babe tilted her head. returning her ponymother's smile and shake of the head. "No. You're not a Vabam. That's an honest little face if I've ever seen one. Hmmmm…."
She continued pouring over the swirling, magical symbols. With Chrysalis tutelage she was learning the art of reading them but still, the practice was FAR more complicated than any language she'd ever encountered. Deciphering the symbols was as much mental wrestling as it was arcane finesse, even compared to the darkest and most ancient of pony magics. "Okay, what about… Sssssurgat? No. I remember you said something once about that one. She liked to pick locks or…. Oo! Suluth! What about that one, Chryssi?"
After a few moments of silence Twilight looked up from the page. "Chrysalis?"
She chuckled. Chrysalis had dozed off. Their tiny charges, nestled secure in the tucked chitinous hooves of their armored queen-mother, mirrored her gentle snoring.
"Oh well." Twilight sighed. With a curling of the enchanted waves of her mane she drew the larvae gathered around her into her crest of chest floof. "I guess that can be enough for today."
The alicorn queen softly shut the tome. With a mother's love, she gently carried her little buggy babes with her as she sidled over to the slumbering bughorse. After a few moments of ooching she eventually found her way into the creche of her wife's limbs and In the enchanted air of sweet summer breeze the royal family drifted off together.
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simplydnp · 2 days
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crying bc i'm literally gonna be nearby during the SD show but im not going to TIT
i'm unable to go alone and i ain't taking my parents with me, especially after seeing spoilers.
i could buy a ticket! i could go! i could fill up a seat! but i'm too embarrassed and scared 💀 also i don't wanna out myself like that lol
i don't know your situation, so your safety is of utmost importance. if you think it'll out you, and that that will have serious consequences, don't go.
however
if that is not your scenario, and it is something else holding you back (shame, guilt, anxiety, etc) then i am going to gently encourage you to go.
you say you are unable to go alone, so this is me assuming you can't transport yourself there & back, hence the parents mention. i would also not take my parents to TIT--even if my dad wasn't extremely homophobic--bc good lord i could never look them in the eyes again and my mother would ask Too Many Questions.
if it's something you're really considering, see what you might have to do to make it happen. it may be easier than you think--dnp work their magic like that sometimes. (siblings, aunts/uncles, friends in the area, trusted local transit--there are options. but again, safety is your priority)
in terms of embarrassment and fear--i understand feeling that way. i've got a lot of shame tied up in any of my interests. it's hard to 'be my full self' in front of people. but i also know i was so fucking sad i couldn't go to ii. and then the hiatus happened and i Vowed that if they ever toured together again (and if i had the means), i would go. so i'm pushing that embarrassment aside bc ykw? it's cool to like things, actually. it's awesome to have a passion. kill the fear of cringe.
you didn't mention where your fear is centered, so here's an interpretation. it's scary being in a room full of people that like what you like. bc they Know what you like. and that's terrifying. but it's also kind of freeing. bc these are your people. they're full fledged humans. and guess what? they also like dnp. so it's okay. you're okay
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neocrias · 1 day
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Talk fast, romance!
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synopsis: you and minghao know that your one-night heated romance won't last, but you're both okay with that. at least for a while.
pairing: minghao x gn reader
wc: 3,7 k
genre/aus: fluff; suggestive
warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, slightly suggestive, cursing (reader swears a lot), slightly based on the song "talk fast" by 5sos
— C'mon, this is boring, you can admit it. — The boy you just met whispers, a fainting smile in his plump lips - those which you've been staring at for the last half an hour, at least that was harsh to admit. The party was, indeed, boring, and the guy in front of you has been the only amusement you've had this night so far.
— I'm not saying it's not! I know it is. — You surrender, letting out an embarrassed laugh. — I'm just not sure I want to run away with... someone.
— With a stranger, you mean. — He implies, raising one of his eyebrows. You feel your cheeks heating, and you're glad about the very dim lights of the house you too are in, or else he'd see your messy state towards him. — I know it's weird, sorry, I shouldn't have asked.
— No! It's not that, it's just... — You start, wanting to explain yourself. You take a deep breath and stare at the dark pair of eyes in front of you. He's been so reliable the whole night, ever since he approached you for the first time when he saw you standing there, completely dislocated.
"I think my friends lowkey hate me", he said, scooching closer to you. "They just left me in the most dull party in the world."
It didn't seem like he was talking to you specifically, but more like a general affirmation out of despair. Nevertheless, you laughed at his situation, making him stare at you.
"Same."
"I'm Minghao." he presented himself, smiling at you, probably happy for the response.
"Hi, Minghao. So... you also made bad decisions tonight?"
"You have no idea."
Since this, you've talked about numerous topics, all diverse and different from the other. It was impressive: you two just clicked. It was as if something sparked between the two bored and self-sufficient souls of that party, and you started having more fun than you've had in like, weeks.
And now, he was kind of suggesting that you two make another bad decision that night: leave. Although you felt like Minghao could not be a bad person at all, you still had an uncertainty about this. What if...?
— It's just that... I don't usually, you know. — You try yet again to explain, feeling a wave of embarrassment rush through you. Thank God you had some drinks earlier that evening in the hope of enjoying this lame-ass party, because now they could help bring you courage to say the words: — I don't usually sleep with guys like that. In the same night.
I mean, you kind of wanted that. Maybe pass through it for the first time. Minghao made you feel it: he was just so interesting and attractive. You didn't feel ready yet, though, and your lack of one-night stand experiences made you nervous enough to overthink that. At least for now.
— Oh... — He opened his mouth, searching for words. — I was thinking of maybe getting some drinks or eating something...like, when I asked.
Then you wanted to dunk your head in the nearest trash can - but even that you couldn't do, since a random guy just threw up in the one next to you. He wasn't asking you for that, silly. How could you even think about it?
— I-I'm sorry, I thought-
— It's fine. — He shrugs, trying his best not to make the conversation even weirder. — I'm kind of flattered that you considered me for that, and don't get me wrong, you're totally my type, I just wasn't thinking of rushing things like that for now.
You laugh nervously, itching the back of your hand a little. Well, at least you know you're totally his type now. Points for me!
— I guess I ruined the conversation, right? — You joke, trying to ease things.
— You know how you could fix it? By letting me take you to this nice food stand I know. — Minghao offers once more.
You didn't know it yet, but he was completely mesmerized by you. Never in his life he felt this instant chemistry with someone else, and he hoped entirely that you felt at least a little like that too, so that you both could just drop that horrendous party that Seungcheol insisted on him going to and hit the road to anywhere you could keep your witty conversation.
You were quick, smart and laughed at his jokes. He had to spend more time with you - in an actually habitable place - even if it was just for the rest of the night. Or he knew he'd regret it forever.
— Yeah, let's just go.
— You can bring a friend if you prefer...wait, really!? — Minghao interrupts himself at your acceptance, smiling widely.
— Sure. I'm hungry and this party sucks, I mean, who made this playlist?
— Thank God. — He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, starting to lead you out of there. — And it was Hoshi, by the way.
— Who?
— My friend is in charge of DJing. He's just never done it before. — Minghao flashes you a last smile before turning his back to you, pulling you through the immensity of people glued together. You throw out a little laugh and let yourself be pulled away to what could be either the best night of your life or something you'd regret immensely.
The feeling of Minghao's hand in yours makes your body shriek in euphoria. The heat of the place, combined with the heat of the contact made you feel secure. Yeah, it's definitely going to be the first alternative.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
— I swear it was right here. — Minghao emphasizes, pointing at the ground next to him. You smile, a bit shy. After so much swearing, you knew he wasn't lying, but it was still a little odd that the first place he wanted to take you to was a totally empty street. — Man, they serve the best tteokbokki in town, I can't believe they're not here tonight out of all nights.
— It's fine, we could go somewhere else.
— I'm so sorry about that. — He shrugs, defeated. — If you want to just go home, I understand-
The boy is interrupted by some loud laughter followed by other big laughter and people's sounds. He carefully moves to glance behind, and your attention goes to the unlit alley adjacent to the street you both were at. Minghao raises an eyebrow, smiling at you and running to grab your hand once again that night.
He pulls you through the alley and you take a deep breath, fully trusting the guy leading you.
You pass through the dark small street only to be greeted with countless colorful lights. A whole avenue completely filled with food trucks and food stands, people all over the place, laughing, eating, and having fun. The smokes coming out of barbecue stands and fires lit through the estabilishments heat the cold of the evening and you feel almost overwhelmed when Minghao turns to you, smiling proudly.
— I told you so.
Your mouth opens completely, half by shock and half because you were really starving. All the different smells, the sights of food, the neon lights that surrounded the buildings around you and the colorful tents full of people were a blast to your senses, and seeing Minghao all smiley was definitely a plus - he looked so cute.
You shake your own thoughts, trying to be rational for the first time in the night. It’s fine, this was an adventure with a pretty guy - but it won’t last forever. It’s likely that the both of you don’t ever get to see or talk to each other again after this night, so keeping your hopes on the low is the intelligent decision to make now. After all, this is what relationships are now - how would you know that Minghao actually wanted more from you than just a nice evening? He probably wouldn’t, anyways.
“That’s okay”, you think, letting him guide you through the stands as you barely have time to contemplate the vision passing right behind you, “I’ll take what I can get from this.”
The boy stops all of a sudden, causing you to almost bump into him. Minghao closes his eyes as he absorbs the familiar smell of his favorite street-food and you can swear his skin glows more than it seemed like at the party - or maybe that’s just an effect of the iridescent street. 
— We’re here. — He affirms, smiling. You smile back, looking at the small orange tent with a metal small truck underneath. An elderly lady hummed silently as she flipped the sticks of tteokbokki on the spicy sauce of her improvised kitchen. The smell was, indeed, amazing, and the vapor coming out of the fire she had lit made your face heat up a little bit as you approached the stand.
Minghao made the order for you, adding some beverages and other couple snacks. Both you and him decided to skip the alcohol, since the drinks you’ve had at the party were already sinking in, and being drunk in the middle of the street wasn’t exactly what you wished for.
And down deep, you hoped that Minghao skipped the alcohol for the sole reason of remembering the night. And remembering you. But you tried not to feed these ideas.
— Shit. — You distractedly whimper as the rice dough fills your mouth, completely steaming and completely spicy. Minghao widens his eyes, pouting a little in your direction as he helps you blow the stick once more, in hopes of making it colder and edible. After you can finally cool off your mouth, you let out some laughter, being followed by the boy in front of you.
— Hey, be careful. — He warns, half kind and half teasing. You feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with something, but you try to believe it was just the hot food entering your systems. — So, what do you think? — Minghao points at the place surrounding you, and you almost sigh in contemplation.
— So much better than that damn party. — It’s all you can say, receiving a loud and gorgeous laugh from him. — And the food is great, too.
— I knew you’d like it. — He smiles tenderly. — Everyone does.
You hum in response, nodding as you take another bite from the stick. Minghao watches you intently, somewhat mesmerized that he had the guts to ask you out so suddenly. He wasn’t used to being a rushed or impatient person. He felt a little weird, but in a nice way he couldn’t really explain.
— Twenty-one question game. — He suggests before he can even stop himself. Your shy smile reveals you liked his idea, and Minghao shifts in the small bench of the tent to take a better look at you. — Favorite color?
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
— Your oldest memory? — Minghao asks, strolling casually next to you through the familiar alley you’ve passed before. After some more eating and drinking, such as countless games and questions that turned infinite - since none of you were tired of hearing each other - you decided to head somewhere else. Where? You still had no idea. 
— Well…I remember my old house’s garden very vividly. And butterflies I guess. — You let yourself be surrounded by the darkness of the narrow street, distancing yourself from the noises and lights of the food market. The nocturne air turns colder as you both walk, and you glance at the full moon above you. 
— Gosh, you’re so cute. — Minghao giggled, amused. You try to repress a smile, but fail.
— What’s your oldest memory? — You change the topic of the conversation, turning to look at Minghao abruptly. Not expecting your agility, Minghao is caught by surprise when you bump into his chest, tripping and almost falling to the ground. He is quick to hold onto one of your wrists, pulling you closer by the waist. 
He barely reacts to your proximity, still smiling fondly until he realizes the dubious smile you had in your lips as you analyzed his face so closely. Minghao’s smile disappears little by little, focusing too much on your lips and in the fresh air surrounding you both in the empty alley as your breaths mixed slowly. 
You lift your chin slightly to deviate your look from his lips to his eyes, but Minghao is faster and leans on, brushing your lips softly as he waits for confirmation. You close the space between you, taking his lips on yours fully and eagerly as his grip on your wrist turns lighter, releasing your hand to grab your face. His other hand stops at your waist, caressing the spot as he pulls you even closer, feeling your bodies completely glued together.
Your lips move in sync and you could swear at this moment you’ve never felt this much chemistry with anyone else - it’s as if a new world revealed itself to you through Minghao’s grasp on you. You pull some strands of his hair as your hands run through his neck, making him shudder. Without noticing it, he softly led you until your back met one of the walls of the alley. The pressure against you helped you regain forces, deepening the kiss and earning a groan from Minghao.
Your hands were quick, and so were your heartbeats. Minghao’s hand that relaxed at your waist fell silently to your ass, grabbing it slowly while waiting for a refusal or a complaint that didn’t come. At this point, he could genuinely take you home. You’d say yes. Fuck if you weren’t into one-night stands. Fuck everything. You were enjoying this night much more than you could’ve ever imagined and you didn’t want it to end.
A loud metallic noise echoed right next to you both, startling you. Minghao suddenly distanced himself to take a look at whoever had interrupted you and you almost cursed at the cold that you felt without him. Your eyes widened, feeling the embarrassment for being caught in such a delicate situation.
That was when your vision settled on a small, furry thing, clumsy between the trash cans. 
— Fuck. — You bring your hand to your chest, feeling your blood flowing through every vein. — It’s a kitten. Cute. — You try to shake away the awkwardness as Minghao turns back at you to release the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard coming through someone’s lips. The lips you’ve just kissed.
Suddenly, your heart skips a beat. How could he be so endearing? And you didn’t even know him!
— My grandmother knitting. — He blurts out, smiling at you as he backs away to give you some space. — The oldest memory, I mean.
— Perfect. — You smile in amusement, straightening up and distancing yourself from the wall behind you. 
— Shall we go? — He suggests opening the path for you. 
— Wait, I know a place close to here! — You exclaimed, excited. Minghao just nodded as you took the lead this time. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
— I don’t think this is going to work… — Minghao pronounces it rationally, but a bit of apprehension escapes from his mouth, making you giggle. You turn to look at him, clumsily walking down through the rocks of the small hill. You extend one of your hands, offering help, but Minghao does not accept it, promising he’s fine. 
You finish your way down, getting to your secret spot as the boy behind you follows. The small pavement below the bridge was perfect to watch the late night city lights reflected through the thin river that passed right through it. With a sigh, Minghao stops by your side, careful not to fall into the water as he adapts.
— That’s definitely…a new perspective. — He comments, approving your location. — I’m usually on top of it. — He points at the bridge above, perfectly shielding you both in its arched form. 
He could see the charm in the place. You could basically see all the city from below, but no one could see you. It felt comfortable. It also felt secretive, and that helped the tingling sensation he kept on feeling all the time he looked at you - it’s almost as if you two were the only people in the world on that night.  
You breathe in the humid air, feeling it through your lungs as you enjoy the silence with Minghao. None of you said a word, but you also didn’t feel like you needed to. It was comfortable to be like this.
— I’ve never done anything like this before. — You suddenly confess, feeling easy next to the boy you had just met. The phrase was suspended into the air, but Minghao got it perfectly.
— Me neither. — He agreed, resolute. 
And with that, both of you understood how special that night was. That sank into your heart, and you felt a deep urge for it not to end - which was impossible, considering the fast pace with which the hours went by. You felt a shiver through your spine, and caressed your own arms for heat. Minghao was fast to remove his own jacket and carefully put it around your shoulders, letting his hands rest in there for a few seconds. You glanced at him from up close, and he softly touched your chin, lifting it tenderly. He closed his eyes, feeling your scent and resting your foreheads together for a while. You also closed your eyes, embracing the feeling of the night - “if this is bound to end soon, I might as well live it fully���. You were the first one to initiate the kiss. 
Differently from earlier, this kiss was truer, more calm and experienced than rushed and passionate. Your lips looked for each other as if they’ve been familiar for a whole lifetime. Jesus, how could you feel like this over a guy you met hours ago?
— Can we go to my place? — Minghao urged in a whisper as he broke the kiss first. You could not help but to widen your eyes at his proposition, feeling odd this time. — Trust me.
And you did. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
It was a different view of the city, for sure. Not that you were enjoying it that much from where you were at - after all, Minghao’s lap wasn’t exactly a tourist point, “but it could be…”
You moved in a hurry, your legs on both sides of his seated figure in the sun lounger as you pressed your bodies together once more. The air from the top of the building should be cold, but you couldn’t feel it if your life depended on it. Not with all the heat surrounding the both of you.
When Minghao invited you to his place, he made a risky move. You felt like accepting anything at that point, but his offer ended up being much more gentle - and now you were at the rooftop of his apartment, all alone, being nothing but gentle. 
Your dress was a mess of wrinkles by now, and his jacket was long gone, thrown somewhere on the dirty floor of the open place. And, once again, your lips were on his. And you didn’t want to let it go for the world.
Your hands move fast through his torso and chest, exploring it through the fabric of his t-shirt as he presses his fingers on your waist like you are going to escape at any moment. You move your hips, feeling a heat growing in your stomach at every second now, and even though you didn’t do anything yet, you feel like you could burst.
With a soft whimper, you gasp for air, ending the kiss for a few seconds as you look at Minghao’s big eyes and swollen lips. He looks like a perfect picture, but something glowing on him catches your attention. The sunlight, coming right from behind you. 
— The sun is rising! — You exclaim, excited, turning to look at the beautiful scene that unveils before your eyes, you snug next to Minghao in the sun lounger, trying to watch the mix of colors.
— I know. He does it everyday. — Minghao groans, frustrated by the lack of contact, making you laugh. You scooch even closer, leaning your head on his chest as you circle his waist with one of your arms.
You peacefully watch the sun coming up, little by little, minutes that seem like long hours. You feel Minghao’s breath above you, and his lips hover on the top of your head, leaving there a small kiss. 
That’s when you realize: the night is over, and so is the dream, and so is whatever that you and Minghao had. You could talk again, you could meet through your mutual friends, but nothing would ever be this again. No night could ever be like this one. And it was over, forever.
You feel like watering your eyes because of this could freak him out. You aren’t even sure if he felt the same about you, and you don’t want to ruin the beautiful evening you guys had because of your own internal drama. Maybe he just saw you as this random girl he made out with for the night, and that’d be fine too - but you felt a tiny bit of that magical feeling tearing apart.
— I… I have to go to work. — You mumbled, decided. Minghao stiffened below you, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten a little. 
— Oh, I see… — He whispers back, clearly affected, but still not letting you go. Minghao tried to come up with millions of rational and healthy reasons for you to stay - but none of them worked, and he couldn't just say the truth: that he really wanted you to stay. That he wanted to pass the day with you, and the next night too. That’d be crazy, desperate even, and he didn’t want to freak you out. 
So he finally gives in, loosening the grip on you, and trying not to look devastated while doing it so. Your heart sinks feeling his hand move away, but you try to hold the disappointment in your face.
“What did you think?”, you ask yourself, “that he’d ask you to stay after you throw the most irrefutable fact on his face? that he, a rational and cool guy as he is, would ask you to skip work and stay with him?”
— I’m sorry, but… — Minghao starts, clumsily, as you tidy your clothes, ready to stand up. — Can’t you stay? I mean, do you really have to go? — He sounded hopeful. Sad, but careful.
Your eyes meet his and a silent plea fills the air as your heart races once again.
— Fuck, no. — You sigh, giving in. — I don’t.
Your smiles widen, and the morning breeze swifts gently as you feel a different type of feeling flowing. 
Work can wait for a while.
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