#I want to be here for him but I don't want to suffocate him with that. Maybe I'll tell him that tomorrow

[allthornsnopetals]

We are not Friends D.Bridgerton

Description: A falling out results in a lost friendship, between Y/n and Daphne, due to this, the two have not been friends for some time. But a sticky situation occurs and they are to come back together again. Let's hope the truth comes out, or God help these women.

"Mama!" Daphne cries, clenching the newest Lady Whistledown gossip in hand, pacing the drawing room, breaking closer to tears.

Violet Bridgerton rushes in, barely having a moment to steady herself before Daphne is crashing into her arms, weeping a set of worked up emotions.

"What seems to be the matter?" Violet takes her hand, sitting them both on the sofa, ringing for tea.

"Look!" She shoves the parchment in her chest, sulking in her handkerchief.

Violet's eyes blew open, shock visible on her face. "Oh, no... Anthony!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n gasps, her mouth agape, caring not for her breakfast, storming out of her room.

"This has to be some sort of joke."

"Papa! Edger! Look at what Lady Whistledown had published!" She almost screams, running to the drawing room, slamming the parchment down on the breakfast table.

Damon jumps, spilling his tea with Y/n slumping herself on the sofa, visibly hopeless. "Must you be so loud, Y/n." He hisses, taking the paper with a scowl. "Sorry, papa but just read it."

Dearest gentle readers,

It seems, a simple ruse, can stain even the purest fabrics, even a Baudelaire and Bridgerton. Something new has come to this authors attention... Something rather fake, such as a false friendship. It seems, Miss Y/n Baudelaire and Miss Daphne Bridgerton, have never been allies, let alone friends for almost a year. You see, before the season of debutantes and marriage, the close friends had a falling out, one that led to tears, unspoken words and unfortunately an unmendable relationship. If it were me, I would have guessed a man had been involved. They have fooled us all with their plastic grins, gentle tones and 'friendly' banter. All this time behind closed doors, the two ladies loathed each other with a burning passion, all over a man.

Of course, Daphne and Y/n have not been friends for some time, but they both assumed their roles to be well-kept, keeping a distance and only conversing when need be. But that did not fool Lady Whistledown and now everyone in town knew of their broken alliance, leaving a gaping hole in their family relations. You see, both dynasties held a strong relationship, one of favors and marriage. They were like kin to each other, all relying on their relationship, like kings and queens to neighboring nations, for here in London their is always some sort of war among the tons.

"What did you do!" Damon booms, tossing the paper to the floor in a rage.

"Nothing, I swear it, papa. It's blaspheme, lies. Lady whis-"

"Lady Whistledown, is never wrong, child. In this situation, you best hope she is." Damon marches off, rage fuming from his ears.

A long silence fills the air, one thick and angry. Edger, her eldest brother hunches over, squeezing the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply, breathing harshly, clearly angry. Y/n tries to speak, feeling the need to smooth the tension over but nothing comes.

"Don't speak, your words will only upset me," He sighs sharply, legs crossed, trying to calm himself. "I don't want to know what happened but only, how are you going to mend your friendship with Miss Bridgerton." He's staring at her now, eyes calm, body still tense

"What am I going to do? It is but a rumor, Daphne and I are, thick as thieves." She nods, setting herself up with haste, leaving him alone before she suffocates herself on the tension.

What was she to do, indeed? Y/n, had not a clue. Her heart was not yet ready to be fixed, let alone face the girl who had shattered it with her lies. She was done with her but it seems the ton is not.

If she is to face Daphne Birdgerton again, she will have the truth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne paces the room, sure to burn a hole through the carpet, waiting on Y/n, if she shows up of course. Surely she would, surely she is to care about the reputation of here family. But as the time drew to midnight, the ball soon to end, Daphne began to slowly lose hope.

"My apologies gentlemen, but my dance card is full. Better luck, next event, yes?" Y/n slides past the double doors, closing them with a shaky breath, turning the lock as she enters.

"Where have you been?" Said Daphne, her tone strained and irritated.

Y/n does not answer, pouring herself a glass of bubbles, no doubt a method to pull it together. "My feet do hurt." She flops on the cushioned sofa, past Daphne, near the fire, slipping her feet wear off, tucking her them under herself, getting comfortable.

The library of the host wasn't as large as the Baudelaire Mansion, but it were a library and a private place, certain to keep unwanted eyes and ears away.

"Sit, I do prefer our conversation to be comfortable." She says, lazily waving Daphne over, ignoring her exasperated groan as she sits on the other end of the sofa.

She could see in the corner of her eye, Daphne pouting, legs crossed with her dainty arms folded over her chest. If the circumstances were different, Y/n would tease and even draw a laugh, but they were no longer friends, so the thought of making fun and jokes were nothing but a past-time, forgotten and never to be forged again. Anyways, she's exhausted, feet aching, Y/n was in no mood for banter or going through memory-lane, as if they could.

"Why were you late." Daphne turns to her, stern and still sulking. Y/n laughs, sipping her drink, effortlessly turning her head, staring at her, as if she were a child. "I am to marry before the end of the season, can't do that if no man asks for my hand." She explains, rather plainly as if she were bored.

A sharp pang jabs Daphne's chest. She knew Y/n would stop at nothing, until she had found a Suitor and wed. It's the goal of every young lady present at the party, except hers. Daphne wanted to make her dynasty proud and wed out of love, but she could not do that, if the one she loved stared back at her, wanting not a woman but a man. Oh, how she wished, she were a man, not a woman. Perhaps, she could wed Y/n, run to the countryside and build a family together. But the longer she stares at her, the more doubt she felt, for the eyes that looked at her were filled with bitter anger and unforgiveness.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Daphne could still recall the pain in her eyes, her smile erased in a few simple words, their long lasting friendship gone in a few moments. Guilt still loomed over her, like a shadow. But she couldn't pretend anymore, her heart became far too great for her to handle, Daphne could not trust herself to be alone with her, afraid she might flip and do something she'll regret. It had to be done, even if the eyes she once found comfort in hated her, wishing her dead.

If only things were different.

Y/n waves a hand in her face. "Hello, did you not hear a single word I said?" Her tone harsh, expression tight and clearly annoyed.

"Yes, of course!"

Y/n laughs humorlessly, visibly unconvinced. "You were spacing out again." She scoffs, setting the empty glass on the small wooden coffee table.

"You always do that! Especially when under hot water! Do you not car-"

Daphne zones out, losing herself in Y/n's visible rage. She were the only woman who could make anger look effortlessly beautiful, even if her words stung, which most of the time they did. But she cared not, for she knew Y/n did not mean what she said, only saying what comes to her mind when overwhelmed with fits of anger. She couldn't help the grin curving her lips, she's been starved of her company for too long, she had missed her yelling, her anger, her imperfections, that made her so perfect. She has missed every part of her, even her most messyest parts.

"What are you grinning at?" Said Y/n, frowning deeply, her tongue laced in poison, readying to kill.

"Nothing," Daphne snorts, clapping a hand over her lips, as if it could stop her uncontrollable chuckles. "Truly, nothing. My apologies, continue."

Y/n stood, furious and exhausted. "If this is how you defend your reputation— my reputation, you can kindly sod off!"

She picked up her skirts, making a b line for the exit. "Wait! You can't walk out there looking like that!" Daphne shields the only way out, blocking Y/n's path, trying her best not to buckle under glare.

"Looking like what."

Daphne swallows thickly, afraid of the wild fire before her: beautiful, stunning, luring, but dangerous and even deadly.

"You look displeased, angry, mad, furious... may I say, beautifully deadly." Daphne squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for another applause of sharpened words, but they never came.

Silence fell, like rain, cooling and even putting out the angry fire. Opening her eyes, she watches Y/n pour herself another drink, this time offering her a glass, eyes soft and gentle.

So that is all it took to calm her. Complements and sweetened words, is all that was needed to extinguish the flame. If only Daphne knew sooner, she could have saved her plenty of burns. Taking their places back on the sofa, Y/n slipping her slippers off once again, finding a comfortable position, they sat awkwardly, no words spoken.

"What I said before was, acting, pretending. We are already doing that, but we have to be closer, and spend a lot more time in public. Form a believable ruse." Y/n went on to explain, shifting in her spot, attention glued to Daphne.

Ruse.

The word made Daphne's stomach stir, making her sick. She did not want to pretend, did not want to act. She wanted her company to be raw, genuine. But she's fairly aware of her shortcomings, she just hoped that she could keep her wandering heart under control. There were many things Daphne wished for, but she will never wish for the falling of another's dynasty because she simply couldn't keep it together.

"Deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands in agreement, unknowingly dooming themselves in an unbreakable contract.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The spring sun bloomed a great deal of heat and light, the park bustling with noise of joy, celebrating the thaw, signifying the beginning of warmer weather in the ton. Y/n kept safe under the provided shade of her family camp, fanning herself and sipping pink lemonade, doing her best to keep up chatter with another possible Suitor, completely ignoring the second party drawing near her family tent.

"Well, good afternoon Miss Daphne! It has been much time since we last had your company over for tea." Edger curtsied, offering her a chair beside Y/n.

"It has, hasn't it? I have been preoccupied with far too difficult things, I'm sure you'll understand." She grins in thanks, taking a glass of pink lemonade.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Mr Deluca would be happy to join me and the other gentlemen, elsewhere." He looks between Daphne and Y/n, sending him a silent message.

He nods, leaving a kiss to Y/n's gloved knuckles, curtsying, acknowledging both women in farewell.

Y/n flutters her lashes, grinning as Stephen takes his leave, his gaze still glued to the young lady, incapable of tearing it away, fumbling behind Edger. Once out of view, she turns her attention to Daphne, finding a rather nasty scowl.

"Fix your face, it appears to me that you have sucked a sour lemon." Y/n shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable, watching her younger brothers: Harwin and Hamish, fly their kites with Hyacinth and Gregory, Daphne's youngest siblings.

She gasps, insulted, hitting Y/n in the shoulder with her fan. "I do not!"

Y/n winches with irritation, hitting Daphne back, acting like children. "Don't hit me, you sour lemon." She chuckles, dodging her attackers next move with a swift stance, ready to run. Without a second thought, she pokes her harshly in the thigh with her fan, making a run for it when Daphne decides to stand, surly for revenge, starting a chase.

Ladies should not run but in this case, Y/n saw it rather fitting to make chase from the woman hot on her tail, she sure were fast for someone rather slow. With the possibility of being physically harmed she couldn't help but laugh, a smile permanently stuck to her face, swiftly sliding past Daphne as she drove forward, fan in hand. Y/n gave a gentle tap with her fan to her behind, watching Daphne gasp, grinning as she shook her head, recollecting herself before continuing with the chase.

"You're going to regret that, Y/n."

With a squeal Y/n ran, dodging and weaving past young and old, even through the Bridgerton tent. "Sorry!" She yells, passing Violet, using her as a shield from her attacker.

"Using my mama, is rather cowardice, don't you think?" Daphne pants, trying to find a way past Violet who stood with a smile, finally happy to see her daughter and dearest friend frolic.

"Not at all, I'm sure your mama is enjoying herself. Aren't you ma'am?"

Violet rolls her eyes, stiff as a board. "Oh, Y/n what's that!" Daphne stills, pointing at something past Y/n's gaze, distracting her.

With her distraction she catches her, holding her in her arms, making it impossible for Y/n to escape. "Cheat!" She cries, laughing and without thinking, embraces Daphne, panting and grinning.

The two held each other, completely out of breath and out of hatred. The Bridgerton and Baudelaire girls back together again, even though it were a false friendship.

"Y/n would you join us for a glass of peach tea and perhaps chat about the season, so far? I see plenty of Suitors have swept to your feet." Violet offered a glass, acknowledging her state of jovial exhaustion.

"Yes, of course, Violet! I do adore your peach tea, I find it the most refreshing." She beams, taking the glass with Daphne's hand intertwined with her own.

Even with the presence of the spring heat, they chat for hours, drawing laughs, terrible jokes and even worse memories. "No, he didn't!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her hand.

"Oh, yes! Violet saw and had to step in. If she didn't I would have smacked him senseless." Y/n explained, high on story telling, completely oblivious or unbothered to her head resting on her shoulder, chuckling at the sudden throw back.

"Oh, yes... He was rather, rude and arrogant. His mother needs to teach him better manners." Violet gave a disapproving shake, sipping her peach tea, the pitcher almost empty.

"The worst part is, the young gentlemen came back! The nerve... And with his mother, no less." Violet tsk's, rolling her eyes.

"His mother!" Daphne chokes on her peach tea.

"Yes! A nasty blob of a woman."

"Mother!" Daphne scolds, Y/n laughing harder than intended.

"Your mother can be quite the... Bear." Y/n mutters, laying her empty glass down on the small white table, holding a silver tray.

"What? Would you have preferred that I do nothing? That witch bore an ugly heart of a boy, with a face of a donkey." She shrugged, pouring her guess another glass.

Y/n whizzed a laugh, Daphne slapping her on the arm, clearly not wanting her to encourage her mothers antics.

"Don't encourage her, she'll never stop." Daphne warns with a playful grins. "My apologies. Violet, next time go for the eyes before the crutch."

Violet chuckled with a wink, Daphne nudging Y/n.

At this time tents were slowly being stored away and the sun began to draw behind the clouds, dipping away for the night. With that, Y/n's lady Maid, Daisy strolled over, fetching the young lady.

"We are to leave in five, Edger wishes everyone to make haste to the carriage." She informs her, bobbing a curtsy, leaving faster than she came.

"Right, well the tea has been splendid, thank you Violet," She stands, sweeping her dress clean, bowing in farewell and thanks. "I do wish to spend another day like this, perhaps sooner than later."

"Oh, the thanks is all mine, you truly are missed. Our door is always open to you, if you ever need an escape from your brothers, but I can't promise much relief." She returns her bow, hugging her farewell.

"I'll walk you back." Daphne offers, high on a day filled with someone she missed, even with the sense of a ruse

She took her arm, moving rather slowly, not wanting to let her other half go, just yet.

"Stephen seems smitten with you, like all of your Suitors. He'll make an excellent husband and a great father, if you wed of course. You are to be wed?" Daphne asks, her tone and expression worried, searching for Y/n's gaze.

For a moment, her eyes pooled with fear, something Daphne thought she would never witness, for Y/n was always knowing, always confident and strong. Did she not wish to be wed?

Patting Daphne's arm, Y/n stops, looping her arm free, clearing her throat, her smile genuine to the eyes of a fool but Daphne is no fool, she sees right through her, like one sees through glass. Her smile seemed strained, pained, worried and hurt.

"I do thank you for today, it truly was a treat but I best go now and with haste, don't want to keep Edger waiting, you dare keep him waiting and he's all on you with claws. Hopefully Lady Whistledown buys our little ruse and our families reputation... Will be mended," She pauses, rolling her thumbs over Daphne's gloved hands, comforting and reassuring.

"I am sure you want me gone as much as Eloise, wishes to rid the world of men."

No, I do not want you gone, I want you near, close, incapable of leaving... I want you, as one wants oxygen.

But Daphne could not say that, not to anyone. To harbor affection for a fellow woman is forbidden, wrong, worse compared to her current situation. If Daphne were to bring speech to her hidden affirmation, she could be ruined─ her entire dynasty will be ruined, all because she couldn't stop her stubborn heart for loving this woman, who loathed her most. Would she hate her more, if she were to be honest? Would she kill her or out her if she were to give voice for her love?

Daphne wanted to scream, shout, yell and cry until her throat ran dry. She needs Y/n, like oxygen... Like a bed of roses that craves for water. But she couldn't have her, not in this life... Not in any.

Parting, broke Daphne, as if a weight had landed on her chest, crushing her heart.

"With haste, Daphne!" Eloise calls, her voice booming over the chatter of the bustling park, scaring a flock of birds, that took flight, frightened by the sudden noise, flapping and gobbling their own sounds.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne is not the only person who eyed Y/n, as if she were the main course of the dinner party──"She's beautiful." Said Benedict, sipping his cocktail, eyeing the girl he's been trying to court for the entire season.

Of course, she were beautiful, it's Y/n, beauty came naturally to her and so did Suitors. She had not yet made it to the floor when a swarm of men crowded her, offering her a dance, a drink, a hand and even food. "Of course, she's beautiful, Benedict, only a fool will think otherwise." Said Daphne, gritting her teeth at her brother and the other men swooning for someone she wish were her's.

Y/n, wore her award winning smile, promising a dance to the first few boys, who pooled to her pink jeweled feet. Tonight she bared a rose quartz color dress, her neck donned with a matching gem necklace. Her hair flowed in ringlets, decoder with pink jeweled flowers, drawing back half her mane in a lovely back crown. Her ears, clipped with pink diamonds, rolling out a theme with her outfit. She stuck out.

Half way through the night Daphne had danced, performing that best she could, her gaze constantly shifting to the girl in pink, chatting to a ring off men, containing of lords, viscounts, dukes and even a prince.

She's growing tired at watching them frolic around her, making her laugh, gritting her teeth to dust. If she were a man, she would have courted Lady Y/n, long ago, asking for her hand with the most expensive flowers, gems, jewels and food─she loves her food, the best way to Y/n's heart is always food. Daphne is sure, that if Y/n had a choice between a husband and an infinite supply of her favorite foods, this season would have been short lived, less then a second spent on finding a husband, she'll be with a food child, living her best life.

By the expression on Y/n's face, she is growing exhausted, tired of these men, ready for sleep and perhaps a hearty meal. But the night was not over and the room is becoming far too warm. Fanning herself, Y/n excuses herself, gliding past men and women, young and old, shifting through until she were out, venturing to the fountain, relieved to finally have silence.

"I didn't expect you to leave such handsome men behind. Many looked rather wounded at your departure, I'm sure you shattered a few hearts." The sound of Daphne's voice makes Y/n jump, hand slamming against her chest in fright.

Calming herself, Y/n breaths an exhausted laugh, fanning herself still. She did not expect company, especially not Daphnes.

"Excuse my behavior but you gave me a fright. I was not anticipating your presence, not after Lady Whisledown's latest update." Said Y/n, scooting over, allowing Daphne to sit with her in the lip of the fountain.

"Uh, yes Lady Whistledown's paper, she seems rather impressed with our ruse, she even called us 'two peas in a pod'." The two shared a short laugh, consumed by awkward silence and embarrassing sniffs.

Lady Whistledown seemed pleased with their act, that she published two columns regarding their false friendship, speaking great praise for their public fondness. Thinking their friendship to be mended, fixed and thriving. So, why spend another minute in the same environment, pretending to enjoy their company.

Clearing her throat, Y/n turned her attention to Daphne. "Do you need something?" Her eyes wander, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, waiting for an answer.

Daphne paused, thinking for the best excuse possible. "No, I just wanted to see you... Perhaps offer a stroll around the gardens."

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Y/n scoffs, lowering her gaze to the gravel floor, an irritated grin, spreading across her face. "What are you doing?" She questions, her tone angry and steady, fire blooming under her gaze.

What is Daphne doing, indeed?

She had made it abundantly clear, their friendship meant nothing to her, that she wanted no part with Y/n at all. So, what were she doing, indeed?

Daphne swallowed thickly, guilt pooling in her stomach, knowing what she meant. She could be honest and risk her friendship a second time, or lie, and simply never see Y/n's face again.

"Don't say you don't know what I speak, because you do." Said Y/n, leveling her eyes with Daphne's, killing the slightest light in her eyes. "Must I recall what you said to me... What you never want me to forget. I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways." Her tone, sharp and mean.

"You lied to me, to yourself. You never thought it best for us to go our separate ways. If you did, you would not be here, you would be happy with Lady Whistledowns latest publish, leaving me be... Like nothing had changed."

Y/n spoke with confidence, anger, bitterness and unforgiveness. But behind her words, something sad, hurt and betrayed lived there. Something Daphne did not miss, hurting herself in the process, shifting her gaze to her hands, wanting to disappear, hating herself for allowing her heart to fall so far.

"Why did you lie?" The crack in her voice, sounded false, fictional, but one glance in her eyes, Daphne was sure her heart shattered. She had missed Daphne, wanting to let her go as quickly as she had come. Heal quickly and move on. But her heart wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow her to patch and sew herself back up again, until she had the truth.

Daphne's throat ran dry, she didn't know where to start, or even say anything, but her chest ached, she had to tell her. Sucking in a breath, Daphne steadied herself, bracing the threshold.

"I didn't want to let you go. I wanted to keep you, to steal you, to force you to stay and never leave my side... Not even for a man, for a Suitor, or for a husband." Daphne shook her head, laughing at herself. "Frankly, I wish I were a man, for a far different reason than Eloise. I wish I were born with a penis, because my affection for you... They're abnormal, wrong, forbidden... Strangling me, starving me of oxygen." Daphne sniffles, tears clogging her speech, her smile strained and tight.

"I wish to have you as a Suitor wishes to court you. Y/n I never wanted to go our separate ways, but what were I to do! You wish to wed a fine man, but I am a woman... You hate me, you don't feel the slightest affection for me... You'll love, and I'll die." She cries into her palm, body shaking, nose sniffling.

Y/n's mouth fell open, gaping, soundless. She did not expect her own friend to spill her heart out to her, to love her as a husband loved his wife. Y/n was speechless.

"You wish to be a man, for me?" Y/n leans forward, freeing Daphne's hands from her face, staring into her puffy eyes, searching for truth.

Daphne quivers. "Disgusting, for a woman to wish to be a man, so she could be free to love the woman her heart longs for." She chokes, leaning into Y/n's shoulder, her hand guiding her head, cuddling her closer.

Y/n grins, stroking Daphne's hair.

"You say disgusting, I say romantic." She giggles, rolling her thumb over Daphne's arm.

Daphne tilts her head up, gazing up at Y/n, clearly confused.

"What?" Her question barely, audible.

"If you wish to be a man for my heart, why not have it?" Y/n held her chin between her fingers, gently kissing her, sealing her vow.

"You do wish to have my heart?" She asks once a part, allowing Daphne to process the moment.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Daphne smiles, snatching another kiss, holding Y/n so very close, their chests embrace each other.

#daphne bridgerton #daphne bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #penelope featherington #Penelope featherington x reader #Simon basset #simon basset x reader #sapphic #wlw #sapphic love #sapphic yearning #wlw post #wlw yearning

[vagabond-umlaut]

tempest in a teapot

gojo finds nothing more delightful than seeing your annoyed frown in the middle of a storm— why should he need the sun to break through the gloomy clouds, when you're right there in front of him, huh?

teen!gojo x fem!reader; fluffy & not-very-lwk sappy [xDD]; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you— you're compelled to tolerate him; he is sort of... obsessed w you but not in the toxic way yet; implied bullying [gojo isn't involved!!]; he wants to be your knight in shining armour sooo baddd; 'one-sided enemies to lovers'; 2.5k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna!

header frm pinterest // divider by @/isisjupiter // jjk isn't mine

gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.

one, those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else— and two, those who aren't but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world— the second category housing no one except you—

tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when asked why he wishes to meet you out of all the people he could. that too now, the sky darkening from a mix of night and storm— that too, to meet you.

candy crushed between molars, gojo grins.

"let's just say i'm a little curious about her, shall we?"

then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy— if his six eyes were working just fine and not fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have known your location too in an instant or so... and not have had to rely on others for that...

the blinding beacon that your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self— he adds, "also maybe 'cause i'm a little in love with her— she's really sweet, y'know?"

whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.

utahime makes a face. almost as if she just bit into a lemon... almost as if she doesn't believe gojo can fall in love... almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... that last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's shoko's girlfriend—

but he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.

your cursed energy caresses his six eyes gently. something burns at the back of his two eyes. he begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him. the directions to you!!

"go down this hallway then turn right at the end. she will still be in the gardens—" the rest of the sentence doesn't reach gojo.

nor does anything else, for that matter.

nothing does. except for the steady thump!thump!thump! against his ribs and in his ears. and, of course— how did he even forget this— the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...

your smile is the first thing the boy notices.

so sweet. so sweet. it is the sweetest thing gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. the pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. legs swaying with the wind. gaze dancing over the fluttering pages—

everything changes in a beat— or perhaps even less than that— with your eyes no longer on the book.

they are on him. drowning him. suffocating him. squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.

your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "why are you here, senpai?"

"why am i here?" he echoes your query. your frown deepens. he grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "to see you, of course!! mind if i take a seat beside you?"

you do mind. gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so— shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.

your scowl stays unfazed, gojo watches, heart lurching and tumbling. falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head. and hums.

"why do you look so mad, sweet—"

"please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "and please don't pretend you don't know why i'm mad— acting like a fool doesn't suit you."

"acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," the boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. it's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. but he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now— plus, don't the two of you seem so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?

he continues— not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen. eyes narrowing a touch. lips pursed a pinch— he wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—

he allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.

"but i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" not really. gojo finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. but since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "— so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so you aren't sent to a mission, so you have a 100% chance of staying alive anddd your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"

"why are you here, senpai?"

obviously, to see you, silly!!

— is what gojo should say. is what gojo wants to say. but he finds his tongue numb and unmoving. rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...

if you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.

and the boy loves it. his six eyes love it. the boy loves you—

your brows gather close. his stomach does a flip. your voice assumes an adorably serious tone. "you didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, senpai?"

did he?

oh, gojo doesn't really know.

maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. but maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in otsu, shiga.

only fifteen kilometres away from the kyoto jujutsu tech— you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like— he decides it's not that bad.

not when you lean a little towards him. gaze narrowed. tone earnest.

"look— i know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that— but how about this? instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't i buy you a box of them gourmet chocolates? or, a ticket to your favorite band's concert? or, a gift voucher of your favorite clothing store— this is better, isn't it?"

better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.

but the thing is, he isn't. the boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you— he just wants to take you out on a date. always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—

making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. a very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.

slipping his shades off, he sits up. and offers a tiny smile. it feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.

"you do know who you're talking to, don't you?"

it takes you a while to reply. throwing back a question of your own. "is this you telling me i can't buy a rich guy's silence, senpai?"

he is. he very much is. but heaven knows why you make it sound this rude— the same as before, you don't stop speaking. not allowing him squeeze a single word in.

"but everyone likes free stuff, don't they? i mean, i'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. so minute, he almost misses it. but he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—

exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "don't you like freebies, senpai?"

he does. he very much does. even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—

"you're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now. extremely likely, forever. "i don't really get why utahime doesn't see you to be so."

you make some sort of a noise then.

it isn't exactly a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.

you hum, "iori-senpai is the kindest out of everyone here. if she thinks i'm not someone sweet... i don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"

"hell no," gojo mutters in that same instant— a little miffed at how you refer to utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say— not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—

for the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.

it's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a tad. in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.

he doesn't really think before adding, "the only bells i can hear when i look at you are—" you frown. he bites his tongue. perhaps... he should think a bit before speaking...

chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.

"never mind what i can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds— like, hell no!" he repeats. letting some force seep into his syllables. into his unwavering stare, fixed on you. on every minute expression you're making—

he really decides to think, however. softening himself on noting your shaky exhale. your nails digging into the cover of your book— he lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.

forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.

"feel free to text me the names of those dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way— but don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.

"i won't ask you out on a date in return for that— i'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as i asked you to— you will text me, won't ya?"

yeah. no. thank you. fuck you—

you say nothing.

nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

for a very painfully long ten seconds.

during which you do nothing except look at him— just look, that too! neither glare nor gape nor gawk— just a quiet, scarily quiet looking— gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.

and inquire, words so slow and soft.

"this isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"

"hey, no—" he rushes to explain. fuming at himself 'cause how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?— but as is the norm, you don't allow him to speak any more than that. cutting him off with yet another one of your queries— except this time, it's not so slow.

and more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it— "you did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"

no, he didn't. obviously, he didn't.

gojo satoru might be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them... something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much— but he finds himself not too sure.

thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.

and the torrential rains following not an instant late.

and the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold— only to come back to his face. wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—

gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. he tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away. his six eyes gaze at the trail of your addictively bright and hot— and his six eyes aren't talking about just the temperature— cursed energy—

the boy tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.

the thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. or maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...

yet another lightning streaks across the sky. he twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at the sight. features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—

gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.

or maybe he can die later, he changes his stance quickly. on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.

you huff when you reach him.

the boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—

crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.

and exhale a quiet sigh. his breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.

"next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that after your missions— it is very difficult to be mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"

[no... gojo doesn't really know.

but as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm— an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building— and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—

cans of green tea. chamomile tea. dark chocolate. biscuits. water—

the boy muses if this is your attempt to buy his silence. by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to tokyo...

oh. it's enough for him to not worry 'bout tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—

gojo smiles.

deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart— albeit... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

[juanarc-thethird]

We're just going to cuddle, I promise. (Elm)

At the barracks of Altas Academy

Jaune: *Sleeping*

Jaune: *He feels someone climbing into his bed and wakes up*

Jaune: Huh?

Jaune: *Turns on his night lamp*

Jaune: Elm? What are you doing here?

Elm: *Already inside the bed* Well I had a problem with my bed and I thought you wouldn't mind if we shared yours.

Jaune: What? What happened to your bed?

Elm: It broke.

Jaune: How did it break?

Elm: I sat on it *She says quietly*

Jaune: I'm sorry?

Elm: *Blushing* I said I sat on it.

Jaune: Oh!... I see, *Ahem* But I'm sorry but you can't stay here.

EElmm: Why not?

Jaune: Because a man and a woman who have no relationship of any kind should be sharing a bed!

Elm: I thought you were going to say because I'm too big.

Jaune: I have seven sisters, I know very well that I should not talk about the size and weight of a lady.

Elm: Aw~ How thoughtful. So, can I stay?

Jaune: No

Elm: Why? Because I'm too big?

Jaune: I didn't say that.

Elm: But you implied it.

Jaune: I didn't!

Elm: *Smug* So you don't want to share your bed because I'm too big. Ok, I see how it is.

Jaune: I didn't say-! Arg! Ok, damn it, you can stay. But don't pushing me out of MY bed, ok.

Elm: Don't worry, *She snuggles against him* We're just going to cuddle, I promise~💕

Jaune: I didn't like how you said that, but I'll take your word.

Elm: Great~

10 minutes later.

*PLAT!💕PLAT!💕PLAT!💕PLAT!💕PLAT!💕PLAT!💕PLAT!💕*

Elm and Jaune are naked, she on top of him in the reverse mating press position.

Jaune: *Suffocating on Elm's tits* ~💕

Elm: Yes, baby... Fuck~💕 just like that. Keep pounding this poor, lonely pussy~

Jaune: *Sucking*

Elm: That's it, suck my tit's~ Aah~💕

Jaune: *He hugs her tightly*

Elm: Oh fuck!~💕 I can fill you cock twitching! Are you about to cum?!

Jaune: *He grabs her butt and begins to move her hips towards him again and again quickly*

Elm: Oh YES!~💕 Fill me to the brim with your cum!~💕 Don't stop till I'm nice an full!~💕

---------------------- The "We're just going to cuddle, I promise." is Back!

#jaune arc #rwby jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune #rwby elm ederne #rwby elm #elm ederne #elm #rwby jaune x elm #jaune x elm #rwby #rwby shitpost #rwby smut #rwby lemon

[wanderingsoul6261]

I'm Here Now

Credit for gif goes to mauraeyk

James Beaufort x Reader

synopsis: follows the plot of a few requests, mostly pregnancy, angst, etc. In this one, Reader finds out she is pregnant. She tells James and he gets cold feet. Events in this fix are probably unlikely, but Y/N had been understanding, considering who his parents were. And then they meet several years later.

warnings: none, I don't think? If I'm wrong, please let me know and I can change it. My brain isn't working right now.

expect two more within the next 24 to 48 hours.

-------

The plastic stick stared hauntingly at her. This was it. The next nine months of her life and everything that came after, already laid for her. Ultimately, she had a different route, but she couldn’t do it. She would never do it. 

Her parents stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Silence filled the air and Y/N felt like she could suffocate in it. She picked at her fingernails, her eyes on the floor, looking everywhere but at her parents. It was already known how disappointed they were in her. How they had expected and hoped that she would get through the first few of her life after Maxton Hall before anything like this happened. She knew that they hoped that she would get through college and make a life for herself. 

But here it was, all thrown back in their faces. And it wasn’t just her parents. Y/N expected something completely different, and this was definitely not it. 

“Does he know?” Her mother finally spoke, breaking the silence. Y/N casted her eyes briefly in her parents direction. Her father leaned against the door frame, a hand on the bottom half of his face, and her mother stood a few steps closer, her eyes focusing solely on the pregnancy test. 

Y/N was silent for several seconds. 

“No.” She averted her eyes back to the ground in front of her. “He doesn’t” 

“Do you plan on telling him?” Her eyes snapped her father this time, who now stared back directly at her. 

“Yea. I just don’t know how. It’s not exactly an easy subject to talk about. Especially at your ages.” 

“It’s definitely the right thing to do.” He agreed. Her father let out a heavy sigh. “But… you might not like the response and actions that he might have.” Her mother nodded.

“This will be just as hard for him as it is for you at this moment.” 

“And you’re sure you want to keep the child?” She had been asked this question twice already minutes before. Y/N turned her gaze back to the ground, swallowing thickly as thoughts ran through her mind. 

“Because if not, we can pull some strings, and-” 

“Stop.” Y/N cut her father off, and he went silent. He had almost surprisingly looked dejected, and it was likely genuine. Y/N should have known. Her parents weren’t like other parents of rich kids. They meant well and actually cared for her well being. She knew that no matter what she decided to do, they would have her back no matter what. “I’m sorry.” She apologized. “But yea, I’d like to keep the child.” 

—

“What?” James was pale, and if Y/N hadn’t known any better, she would have thought him to be sick. She swallowed thickly, picking at her fingernails, a nervous habit of hers. He had seen and slapped her hands, telling her to stop it. Then he took a step back. 

She stared at him. James had obviously not liked the news, shock and fear written all over his face. Y/N had been scared that this was going to happen. In fact, she had almost expected it. But she had been surprised when he still showed enough care to stop her from picking at her fingers until they bled. 

Maybe there was a potential for hope. 

“I’m pregnant.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Mine?” She nodded. 

“Yours.” James mumbled under his breath. Y/N watched as he paced back and forth in front of the pool. Y/N watched him, growing slightly more stressed with each stride he took. Her eyes followed his feet, repeating her mannerisms from the other night. She refused to look in his face. She had let so many people down by allowing this to happen, and in the end, she still wasn’t sure what she would lose or keep. “Can you stop pacing please?” Y/N asked quietly. “You’re stressing me out.” 

“Stressing you out-” James paused, finally stopping to stare at Y/N. She had shrunk into herself and despite his attempt at stopping her from picking at her fingers, she still continued to do so. His breath got caught in his throat. What was he to do? His parents, especially his father, would not allow this. He would see it as a scandal and do everything in his power to separate Y/N from him and keep it that way. 

James had to do something first. 

He stopped his pacing, and sat on the opposite end of the bench that she sat on. James hunched forward, running his hand down his face as he ran through different possibilities in his mind. 

“You don’t want this right now, do you?” Y/N asked. His head whipped up and towards her. She was staring at him, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. James opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say, willing himself to say anything, but nothing came. He closed his mouth, but kept eye contact with her. Y/N searched his eyes for anything, anything that might tell her what exactly it was that he wanted. 

“I don’t know.” He finally said. 

Even if it wasn’t a definitive answer, those three words still punched a hole in Y/N’s stomach. She swallowed thickly, turning her head away from him and looked towards the pool. Her eyes flickered over the waving surface, suddenly interested in the way that the sun showed on the ripples created by the slight breeze, watching as the sun rays bounced off the bottom floor. 

“I mean. You have to understand, Y/N.” James went silent again for a few seconds. “This is a tough thing at our ages. And your parents might be more accommodating, but mine-” 

“Are you basing your decision off of what you want, or what they would want?” Y/N turned back to him. He didn’t even have to answer it. She knew the answer before he answered it himself. 

“Y/N, you know how my parents-” 

“And that’s enough to potentially think about walking away from me and your unborn child?” She asked. James went silent and averted his gaze. His eyes peered down at his shoes, taking note of the scuff and dirt marks that he had never really noticed until now. They were dirt and scuff marks that his father wouldn’t stand for. 

His father. 

He turned back to Y/N, who now had tears streaming down her face. A sigh escaped her lips and James was almost expecting more to come from her mouth. He had already felt bad enough that he was leaning more towards the thoughts of his father, but the more he thought about it, he was almost protecting her. If his father ever found out, he didn’t know what would happen. 

“I won’t be mad.” She finally spoke, and James was beyond surprised. He had indeed expected more from her. Not this. He didn’t expect her to be as understanding in this moment that she currently was being. A child was supposed to have their father in their lives. And this one wouldn’t. 

James was silent for several moments. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No. I’m sorry.” Looking in her face, James knew she was being genuine. “I should have done more.” 

“No stop.” He said. “We both had a part to play in this.” 

And with that, both went silent. They remained on opposite ends of the bench, until enough time had passed and James had decided it was time to leave. He itched to hold her one last time, knowing that once he walked out of the front door, things were going to change. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

But she did. 

As he walked by her, she grabbed his hand, staring up at him. He stared down at her, but couldn’t offer her a smile, not that she had one to give back.

“Can I find you in a few years?” He asked. ‘When I don’t have to answer to my father?,’ he almost wanted to say, but he stayed silent. 

“Maybe.” Her heart broke some more. 

And then he was gone. 

—--

After finding out that she was pregnant, Y/N had opted to continue her classwork remotely, only making visits to Maxton Hall in the first few months of her pregnancy. After she started showing, she had stopped, not wanting to raise questions or a potential scandal amongst the students there. 

When the children were born, Y/N knew that things would be okay. 

Twins. She had twins, and the only thing that she could think of were the Beauforts. A boy and a girl. The baby girl definitely had the looks of James more than the baby boy did. Y/N figured that she might be the troublemaker of the two in the coming years. The baby boy was quiet and good, the opposite of his sister, which was ironic, considering it was the other way around for both Lydia and James. 

Raising the twins though had actually been easier than she expected, especially with the help of her parents. Certain moments had been a bit tougher, like when Y/N had to take them in for vaccinations and doctor appointments. Listening to them cry their little hearts out because of being poked had broken her own heart. Many moments, she had wished that James was around to witness his kids grow up into the young children they were growing up to be. 

Even as they grew up, even if James wasn’t there, she still acted as if he was. Y/N told the kids stories about their father and what he was like. After all this time, she still loved him.She loved him enough that she wished that he had been around to witness their first steps, to experience their first words, etc. In general, Y/N had just wished that he was there. 

Especially now, walking through the park. The twins were a little over the age of four. They stomped around Y/N, giggling and laughing. They brought a smile to her face, making her happy when she thought that things were turning for the worst. She now knew that things weren’t going to turn out as bad as she had expected the day she found out she was pregnant. 

She came back to earth after hearing one of her kids let out a surprised shout. Y/N looked around, seeing her son on the ground, seemingly unhurt and okay. D/N had hurried over in an attempt to help him up, but the man S/N had ran into had helped him up first. 

“Sorry kiddo. Didn’t see you.” The man looked up and around, seeing Y/N. 

Her world stopped at that very moment, for the man that stood before her, she never expected to see again. 

“James.” 

“Y/N” The two a few feet apart and S/N and D/N were now next to their mother. James had already put two and two together, his eyes now focused on his kids. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing was spoken. His eyes moved to look at Y/N, who only smiled softly at him. It almost seemed sad. 

“What are you doing here?” He finally asked. 

“On a walk with the kids. Wanted to give mom and dad some peace and quiet.” Y/N explained. “What about you?” she asked. 

“I was just at a business meeting. I decided to cut through the park to get to my car.” His eyes were focused back on the kids, who stared up at him with large eyes. They hid partially behind Y/N. He could definitely see himself in both of them. 

“What are their names?” 

“D/N and S/N” Their names rolled off James tongue easily. Y/N followed his gaze to the kids, before shooing them away. “How about you two go play on the slide? I’m right here, I’ll be watching you.” The two ran off towards the slide without any hesitation, their giggles could be heard as they raced. 

“How are they?” he asked, watching their movement. Y/N watched James, taking in his appearance. He really hadn’t changed much. James still looked like himself. 

“They are good kids. Healthy. Take after us, that’s for sure.” She laughed a little, took a step closer to James as they now both watched the kids. 

“Do they know about me?” 

“Yea.” Y/N spoke softly. “I tell them stories about you. From school, what you’re like, just a bunch of things about you.” She said, “They’ve been coming up with their own questions lately.” James turned his attention to her. His eyes trailed over her form, taking her in, before looking back at the kids. 

“Like what?” He hesitated in looking back at her, before finally turning his head back towards her, but their eyes didn’t meet. She watched her children, a sad look in her eyes. Like she wanted to give them so much more than they already had in that moment. “Y/N.” She turned to him. 

“Hmm?”

“Would you be mad or upset with me now, if I asked if I could be in their lives?” he asked. Her smile looked a little less sad. 

“Never. You have every right to be in their lives. I can tell you right now that they want you in their lives. I can guarantee it.” Y/N turned to face him. “We can do whatever works. We can set up visitation times. Or you can take them whenever you want. We can work something out.” James nodded along, listening to her and the suggestions. He was silent for several seconds, and he knew that she was waiting for something from him. 

“Could we, maybe. Perhaps…could we try things over again?” Her smile seemed even brighter. 

“I think so.” She said softly. “I understood why you didn’t want anything at first. Yea, it took some time to adjust and get used to. I missed you terribly, but I want to work on things, especially between us. And that’s not only for us, but for them.” The two turned their attention back to the kids, who were running around, their high pitched giggles filling the air as they laughed. 

By the end of the night, after being invited for dinner with Y/N, her kids, and her parents, James had started to wedge himself back into their lives. His son and daughter were latched to him, never really letting him out of their sight. They told him everything that they could, as James stared at them, love apparent in his eyes and he listened to what they had to say. 

This was it. This is what he wanted. After everything that he already had, this was it. 

And as he looked up and his eyes found Y/N’s, already staring at him with the kids, and he had seen the smile she had adorned her face, he knew already that he was willing to give up anything to keep this. 

And she would let him. 

------

@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl

#james beaufort #maxton hall #james beaufort x reader #maxton hall: the world between us

[thunder-point]

phumpeem ep 9 drabble

Phum is sure about his feelings. No question about it, for what were Fang's echoing words if not a solidified conclusion to whatever he was going through these past weeks?

So Phum is sure about his feelings.

What he's not sure about is Peem. It's the situation they are in. That's where uncertainty lies.

Because he can go ahead and let out everything. On his side, it's a stable fixture that keeps on rising. Letting Peem know he's adorable, telling him what a precious thing his company is to Phum - everything comes out smoothly. The air in his lungs gives voice to it like nothing else. His chest expands, it grows bigger, it warms up. But what is on Peem's mind, Phum can never tell. And since coming to this camp, it's become more obvious. It's pressing down on his chest, and this is the suffocating part. Not his crush for Peem, not the slow evolution of their relationship, if there's any at all. But Peem.

He'd have every right to find Phum as irritating as he did initially. Hell, there are still some moments where it looks like he currently does. There's the boulder, there's the pressure.

Because what right does Phum have to feel anything akin to deserving? What right would his jealousy have to exist? He can't stand it. He can't. He can't feel entitled to such feelings entirely. It's all too easy to give when it comes to Peem, and yet, he can't make himself go all out, can't try to meddle too much.

Something is holding him back, shoving until only the churning of his stomach is palpable. He might know what, even if it's hard to admit it. He spots Kluen and his sweet eyes and Phum can only turn away, can only try to ease the twinge in his chest. It's not entirely foreign, this feeling. He's had in the past; helplessness comes in many forms. It aches all the more that he's felt it for Peem before, all because of his own stupid actions. And even if he somehow mended that whole situation, this one doesn't seem to give him any opportunity to act. Phum feels like he doesn't have a part in it, in a way. As if he's a mere spectator on the sidelines. And he loves to push, he loves to taunt. He loves every reaction that Peem would offer, because it's always been offered. Peem would be turned towards him, eyes as liquid as they can be impudent, pretty mouth pursed or grinning wryly. Words sharp, annoyed, indulgent. But here, he's not. He's looking elsewhere, his voice is muffled.

Phum feels like a mere shadow in those moments - the solid ground is slipping beneath his feet, his assurance is questioned, his presence doesn't feel required.

He hates it. Hates it. He's maddened by it. He can't stand it.

And truly, he wouldn't blame Peem for it. Couldn't. Can't. Peem has every right to feel good with anyone he wants. He has every right to not have a second thought about Phum besides, perhaps, some attraction and a binding deal. That may be the most unsettling thing, he thinks faintly, as he listens to Kluen admit that he might be hitting on Peem in the midst of all their friends. Nothing is truly assured between them.

Nothing but an agreement that's been tainted some in the past.

So he keeps quiet. He can't demand, he can't taunt. He can't do much besides a bit of pettiness that dissolves as soon as Peem scolds both him and Kluen.

He can't even muster words as Kleun straight up tells him, "I like Peem."

What is there to say? What can he say? He can't even make himself approach the slings, not with Peem's cheery voice, his laugh resounding in the open space. It doesn't feel safe, it doesn't feel necessary. So he turns away from it. With a wave of thoughts crashing down on him, and uncertainty pressing heavy on his limbs, he leaves somewhere it won't echo. And Phum thinks. Heavily so. Phum and Peem are just... They're just- "You like Peem, right?" Beer's face is softened by the shade of night, and his words don't twinge. Because Phum likes Peem. That's the most sure thing that quickens the beat of his heart. It's not a question.

But. But. It's there. That something. It's a dam. Phum likes Peem, yet he doesn't say anything. He sits quietly, hands tightening around each other as Beer goes on, tells Phum he's easy to read, that he's bothered, he's- "Actually," he begins lowly, eyes set on the stairs under them. "Peem and I have a deal."

It's easy to tell it from there, to explain the situation, even if the situation in itself is not. Because nothing of it is a question.

And of course, Beer is surprised, he's musing. And he's right, but he also isn't. Not really. Because Phum and Peem spent plenty of time together, and God they teased, they did so until the tingles in Phum's body became a requirement, a fond sensation. Until the tint of Peem's lips is the first thing his eyes linger on.

Because Phum likes, he wants, he's had, if only a bit. But does Peem? He may want, he may have had, but does he like? Phum doesn't know. So he tells his friend that, and it remains there. Even after Beer gives his quiet support, even after he's offered advice, Phum doesn't move, nor does his turmoil.

Then, Peem comes. His steps are slow, they're the calm that he always brings with him. Peem sits beside him, warm and gentle as always, and he's looking at Phum, gaze liquid; he's turned towards Phum, his words are crystal clear. He's here.

But is he, really?

"Is something wrong?"

No. No. Nothing. Nothing wrong. But Phum's heart doesn't quicken all that steady like it usually does when Peem decides to close distances between them. It's a loud drum, engulfing and stifling. His ears are ringing, just like they often do when disappointment is the only background buzz at home, when the hollow of his stomach scares off sleep. When arguing morphs into silence, and deafens him. He can't do it. He can't ask anything. He can't give in to Peem's gentle call of his name, the warmth of his hold as he circles Phum's wrist, asking to wait, talk to me.

He can't do it. Not again. Just- "I'm trying to sort out my feelings." Am I gonna lose you just like that? Is it always just that easy? Can I do anything? "Don't talk to me now."

Don't leave.

Even so, with that echoing until his heart learns to say it as well, Phum is the one to step away.

#phumpeem #phumpeem drabble #is this angst??? #a bit #its very fun to try and do some introspection on someone like phum #i just had to write it #i love this boy and his dilemmas #i really need to go back to studying #writing #drabble #we are the series

[jchampionsgf]

✁ THE DINER. #2 ethan landry

inspired by "THE DINER" by billie eilish.

warnings: stalking, obssesion, posessive, smut, spit, use of "good girl", non-con, chocking lmk if i missed anything 1092 words

navigation

THE NEXT MORNING, the sunlight filtered through your curtains, signaling the start of another day. You woke up groggy and disoriented, your mind immediately going to the unsettling events of the previous night. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, hoping for some sense of normalcy. But as you opened your social media feed, a breaking news alert caught your eye.

"College Student Found Dead in Apparent Homicide," the headline read. You clicked on the article, your heart pounding as you read the details. The victim was identified as Steve, the boy who had given you a ride home last night. Your stomach churned, and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

Your mind raced as you tried to process the information. Steve was dead. The letter, the call—it was all connected. Panic set in as you realized the danger you were in. You needed to tell someone, but who? Mindy? The campus security? The police?

You dialed Mindy's number with shaking hands. She picked up on the second ring. "Y/N? What's wrong?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Mindy, it's Steve. He's dead. I think my stalker did it. He left another note and called me last night. He knew about Steve," you said, your voice trembling.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming over right now,"Mindy replied, her tone urgent.

While you waited for Mindy, you tried to calm yourself, but every little noise in the dorm room made you jump. The silence was oppressive, and you felt like you were being watched. to calm down you decided to make a cup of hot chocolate but in the middle of brewing the milk, your phone rang. "unknown caller". "hey pretty did you like my little surprise?" "now, call mindy and tell her that she doesn't need to come or ill gut her on the way here" the caller said "no don't do that please, ill call her" you responded, voice trembling. mindy didn't quite get why you didn't want her to come but she gave in, after all that trauma you've been trough. the phone dialed again "good girl" the praising voice said "sit on the kitchen counter for me" you sat on top of the kitchen counter as the voice said. "now, turn around" You turned around, the kitchen suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar. The voice on the phone continued, its tone both soothing and menacing. "Good. Now, stay there and don't move. I'm watching."

A chill ran down your spine as you glanced around, trying to find any sign of where he might be. The feeling of being observed was suffocating. You clutched your phone tightly, desperate for a way out of this nightmare. you felt a gloved hand on your mouth, you tried to scream but there was no hope, whoever this was, they were way stronger than you. "i waited on the corner till i saw mindy leave, it was easy getting over and i landed on my feet" the familiar voice said. he spun you around, as you were trying to fight it off he brought a knife to your gaze "stay still or ill have to butcher that pretty body of yours." he whispered in your ear you froze, tears ran down your cheeks. "spread your legs he commanded, he started to rub his clothed cock against your inner thigh, a million thoughts ran into your mind as more tears fell down. he brought up two fingers to your mouth "open" he said sticking his fingers into your throat "wider" he watched as you engulfed his fingers "good girl" he praised and took his fingers out of your mouth. he took off your pants and shirt in one swiftly motion. he put his cold knife up against your clothed clit you couldn't help but moan, a chuckle came from him. he put your panties to the side and gets a hold of your folds, dry. “spit” he demanded and held up his hand to your mouth, he rubbed your now bare clit with your own spit spreadingit all over "no, please stop, please" you begged "why would we stop if it feels so good?" he sped up his movements, making it harder to contain your moans, as you were about to burst he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the lost of contact. "please, you dont have to do this, i wont tell anyone i promise" you sobbed "thats the problem, i want everyone to find out that ur a slut that is begging for ghostfaces dick" he said as he lowered down, lifted up his mask ever so slightly that his face still couldn't be seen licking your folds "and that you taste so sweet baby" he sucked your clit as you tried to contain yourself  "ple-please im beg-ging you do-nt" you sobbed more and more, you kicked your legs hoping for some hope, he grabbed your throat and put you against the wall "you disobeyed me princess, you shouldn't have" he threw you into the floor, his hand still on your throat, you are gonna pass out. “pl-ease” your able to choke out “what? your going to pass out? poor baby, open your legs” he mocks you are able to get your legs to open when he finally takes his hand away from your throat but you arent even able to breathe when he pounds into you, fitting each bit of his length inside you “see? thats what you get, a hard floor rail by ghostface” he whispers in your ear hitting a new angle making you moan. he starts thrusting back and forth, pulling out and smashing his entire length in one strong motion. you couldn’t handle it anymore, your nails gripping into his back “please, stop please” you begged, eyes soaked in your tears he didn’t do anything but speed up his pace making you tremble you screamed as you milked his dick with fresh and hot cum, he chuckled ag the sight. “im gonna cum inside you” he whispered. panic washed over you. you tried pulling him away but you couldnt, you legs so weak from the abuse its been trough and just like that it was too late. he let out a loud and deep groan, you felt him fill you up as you cried. “i came into the kitchen looking for something to eat, im glad i found it. if you tell anyone about this, your dead.” he whispered before letting you go and storming out.

part three?

#ethan landry #ethan landry smut #horror #scream #loren campbell #ethan landry smut non con #scream iv #jack champion smut #jack champion #scream smut #smut

[moregraceful]

accidentally invented a new form of no bedtime called 11pm glass of emergency-c + 4pm latte + 8pm cup of black tea + 9pm cup of black tea

#the real question is can i go to church on less than 5 hours of sleep and still function lol #i unlocked my instagram bc church wouldn't stop tagging me to direct people to me for stuff but that meant i had to delete a bunch of pho #tos AND rewrite a bunch of captions for photos i didn't WANT to delete bc i was too mean to random sharks prospects #which is fine if it is u know the anonymity of tumblr but not public instagram where my church won't stop FULL NAMING AND TAGGING ME #''anonymity of tumblr'' i doxx myself on here like 80 times a day in front of more people than i went to college with #anyway my point is i was going through deleting all evidence of politics pens fandom and legal documents and i was like damn #my attitude towards my team SUCKS. i gotta be way less of a hater!!! #what did my prospects ever do wrong besides everything NOTHING. the system is BROKEN. i am sorry i will be so much nicer guys :( #also if u really want to be humbled. scrolling back to 2012 on your instagram and re-experiencing senior year of college. BAD #i've deleted i think everything that would reasonably get our nonprofit status pulled but what a horrific journey it was #two full hockey intermission periods of deleting shit plus another hour at home doing several more passes and then rewriting captions #so that some poor 21 year old prospect randomly searching their name doesn't see me full ass call their teammate cringe #their teammate IS cringe. but i love him. but the nuances are lost on instagram people don't understand these things they take everything #at face value #don't know why i just assigned shakir mukhamadullin they/them pronouns #i think i need to go lie in bed with a blanket over my head until i suffocate #this ALWAYS happens i get too hype about mackenzie blackwood and start listening to selena gomez and then it's like almost 3am and i'm just #fresno oilers.txt #oh and. a friend sent me screenshots of the girl she's been flirting with on a dating app and they are SOOOOO cute #i hope they make a good run of it i really do bc it was SO cute. living vicariously through episcopalian lesbians as one does #but then i was trying to figure out how to edit my dating app profile to dissuade chasers but still honeytrap guys who are tall enough #or athletic enough to pick the tangerines at the top of the tangerine tree. bc i couldn't reach this week #but there were still like god maybe 150 tangerines on the tree. i was like this could be feeding people but i'm TOO SHORT #and my life will be like this. FOREVER #icb the future of this garden is so psychologically burdensome that i'm having to build it into a dating app profile lol #well now that i'd treated this entire tag set as twitter for and hour and a half #time to go try to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and then wake up in [checks notes] four hours

[iftitah]

.

#the more i stay around people the more i want to become like them out of spite #because i was so surprised these people are at least 24-26 years age some even did a minor bachelor's before coming here #some have completed post grad and then joined #like aren't you all too fucking old to act that immature #i grew so resentful of everyone how they keep on doing the worst low man shit and then victimize themselves #hypocrites full of shit they don't want to hear the truth #i know no one has the audacity to take a fight with me on here because they know im the youngest here #not because im the youngest but because im better #the girls frown upon me because i don't hear their low mindset humorless jokes and pointo out where they fall short #oh [my irl name] youre so stiff hamesha kami kyun nikalti rahti ho hamesha baat kaatne ki aadat hai learn to take a joke #mazaak hi to kar rahe hain kya yaar #ive cried so many times because i feel suffocated here and out of hate i want to act immature selfish hypocrite too so i do #i become self centered and look into my needs #but everyday bcg shows me how one stays firm in mindset even amidst surrounding of shit people #he points out to me all the time when i start acting like them he says why aren't you trying to rise above #i say ham bhi karte hai na unn chutiyon jaisa behave kyunki unhe unhi ki language mei samajh aata hai #achha ban kar honest banne se kuch nahi milta yaha #but he knows his stuff #he never does these things #however much i let evil thoughts take upon i get astounded everyday how he's practicing his rightful his honesty even tho no one's looking #it makes me want to cry #i hope he gets so ahead in life i hope he stands at the podium one day on a stage and deliver speeches where people actually can see him #like he sees the orator that come to attend our unis gatherings and says everytime kuch to baat hoti hai inn logon mei #i hope he achieves whatever he wants i hope he gets ahead of everyone all this fucking corruption #its not that he's done anything that im applauding he tries his best #and maybe teachers see that too all in class they're only looking at him and teaching they know #do you know how fucking hard it is not get corrupted in this uni and become one of those assholes that have done things unimaginable #im inspired everyday ill try my best to be like him #i do not just want to praise him i want to become someone he doesn't have to say fir tum bhi vahi karogi to kya farq reh jaayega #kuch bada nahi hota logon ki roz roz ki choti choti aadaton se pata chal jaata hai vo kaise hain

[warrior-of-sunlight]

.

#need to vent somewhere might as well do it here #I'm honestly not doing well #I've always tried to keep positive no matter how grim it all looked but I'm so tired #I can laugh about things and enjoy things #but everything seems deafened somehow #helmer being gone hurts but for some reason it feels like my body does not allow me to grief properly #not in the way it needs to #whenever I feel a strong emotion if feels like I'm suffocating or put in a room too small for me #doesn't help that physically I've been in a downward spiral for a while now #I was already tired and depressed for a few years but when I got covid a few months ago after managing to avoid it for 3 years it amplified #since covid allergies have become more severe to the point I can barely go outside when there are a few pollen in the air #other physical issues I had also seemed to have gotten worse #I'm tired all the time and unable to maintain social contacts I really want to maintain #I've been unable to draw like I used to because it tires me out too much #I'm not sure how to claw myself out of this hole #I'll keep trying but fucking hell I'm so exhausted #I'm also very worried for my dad and his health #I don't want to talk too much about it right now but it's bad #as in the doctor gave him a year a year ago bad #I love my dad very much and I'm scared

[v-poreons]

For one of my classes we have to reimagine a piece of literary media over the course of the semester, then develop three distinct art styles/genres that interpretation could look like. So of course I picked Hamlet and chucked him into space

(I would love to hear some constructive feedback like ur fav of the three or ideas on design tweaks as next week I will be choosing one of them to develop for the rest of the semester)

#rainyart #shakespeare #hamlet #visual development #concept art #designs are subject to change im really just trying to get ideas out of my brain #in my version th late king doesnt appear as a ghost but a prerecorded hologram where he states he fears Claudius is planning on killing him #and hamlet is like oh fuck my suspicions were right but it also kinda brings that doubt to the forefront of the story where maybe the ghost #was a hallucination or a malevolent spirit trying to cause problems on purpose. so here its like maybe the late king was wrong or paranoid #instead of drowning obviously ophelia suffocates to death in outer space #not sure how I'd translate the swords into a space setting without them being Just Lightsabers. I don't think Id want to make them blasters #the three genres are eldritch horror‚ space high fantasy‚ and retro future anime

[arrow-guy]

.

#erin rambles #okay i'm officially going on a Weekend Trip with my partner #very excited!!!!! #it'll be amazing and so nice to have that kind of alone time with him #especially bc we both live with our parents and can't really escape People if we want to have a night in #unfortunately!!!!!! #my mother has given me yet another Virginity lecture #at this point i haven't been to church of any kind in more than two years #and i honestly don't really plan to go back!!! #christianity in't exactly my jam #and i don't find the concept of virginity to be particularly threatening anymore #so i kind of just have to sit here and try not to giggle when she warns me that i can't get it back once it's gone #so as far as she knows we are staying in a two bedroom condo #and we will be sleeping in one bedroom each #guaranteed that will absolutely not be happening #i had to lie and feign Dangerous Levels of Fatigue in order to spend the night after our roadtrip last saturday #i cannot go on like this forever #i have to get out of my parents house or i'm going to fucking suffocate #between this and having to hide all my hickies #it's exhausting pretending i'm not a whole ass adult who loves to make their own decisions

[the-cooler-king]

tbh this is what I love about being medicated that I was telling my doctor about yesterday. Sometimes I get a thought that gets stuck in my head - I can almost always step back and go "whoa betsy.... don't have time for that" / "not a productive thought, try again" and on the rare occasions that I can't dispell the thought, I can continue to think it through. Like I wanted to cry on my way home. Now I'm just determined to do better for myself. The curtain drops but there is no audience.

#I'm just having a rough time and I'm trying to move forward #I'm realizing that my s/o is having a very hard time that he is making worse for himself and I can't do anything for him #I feel like he thinks he isn't worth it #Once again he teaches me so much about myself because it's hurtful that he's pushing me away #And it's something I've also done in the past... now I understand why no one has ever stayed #Not in a sad sack way but in a... that makes sense kinda way #I want to be here for him but I don't want to suffocate him with that. Maybe I'll tell him that tomorrow #I'm here for him. Always. But... if he doesn't think he deserves that then I can't change his mind #As an air sign it's so easy to be suffocated and stifled by the ppl around you #And as an earth sign I'm known for consistency and stability #So I'm still here. Just behind the curtains. I can't keep feeling like a burden to him even if it's just a thought in my head and not real #I liked being wanted. I almost thought he cared. But I know better. As nanami once said... I know where those feelings lead

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, who cared only about dominating the court suddenly cared only about you. Him and his team were practicing for a game next week in the school gym when he noticed you sitting among the crowd of spectators. Whenever him and his team practice, the students in school will always come watch in their free time. He recognized some familiar faces, but you, he doesn't recognize you. He had never seen you here before, and something about you dragged his attention towards you.

Satoru, who never misses a shot when he has his hand on the ball, suddenly misses? Dead silence. His team stared at him with confusion and disbelief that the Satoru Gojo missed a shot. His best friend and teammate, Suguru, came up to him with concern in his eyes and asked– "Are you alright, Satoru?"

Satoru runs his hand through his hair and huffed out a fine to his best friend. What the fuck just happened to him? Must have been a fluke he said to himself as his eyes wandered towards the crowd who was gossiping about his failed shot. His eyes then wandered towards you who was staring right at him. His eyes widen when you caught him staring at you before quickly turning away. His heart racing in his chest in an uncontrollable pace. He noticed Suguru and his teammates still staring at him with concern in their eyes.

"C'mon, let's continue practice," he sighs. "I just got distracted. It won't happen again."

The team was reluctant to continue practice because no matter how distracted Gojo was, he had never missed a shot. He could practically play a game with his eyes closed and not miss, but all of a sudden, he missed? As practice continued, Satoru made no other mistakes. He didn't miss again, but every time he scores, his eyes always end up wandering towards you.

Fuck. What the fuck is happening to him? Why can't he stop his eyes from going towards you whenever he scores? Why is he so focused on the way your eyes light up in awe as he makes every shot? The way you wet your soft looking lips with your tongue as you stood at the edge of your seat. You were a sinful sight to behold.

When practice ended, Satoru quickly left the court to go to the locker room. As he pushed past his teammates, he noticed their confused expression. Their confusion was understandable because, normally, Satoru would be the last one to their locker room. Satoru loves attention, so he would always give out fan services when practice or a game ends. However, this time, Satoru was quickly pushing open the gym door to escape, and his eyes wander towards you one last time before completely exiting the gym. He doesn't like what he's feeling right now. It was suffocating, but it's ok, right? Today was just a one-time thing. Oh, how wrong he was.

Since that day, he noticed that you always were there during their practice. He knows you're not from his school because of your uniform, so who exactly were you? Who allowed you in? And why is it that he couldn't get enough of you? Why did you suddenly show up in his life out of nowhere?

Satoru sat down on the bench as the other continued the practice game, wiping his sweat with his towel as he secretly watched you. You who had his under some kind of spell. You who he hasn't spoken one word to since the day he saw you. He wanted you to say his name. Hear the syllables of his name come out of your soft looking lips. Gojo wasn't dumb. He just likes pretending to be, so it doesn't help that he knew exactly what was going on with him. He knew what he was feeling, and it was downright stupid. Fuck love at first sight. It shouldn't exist. He shouldn't want to kiss you. He doesn't even know your name! He groans as he run his hand through his hair again. He curse at himself before he felt something cold touch his cheeks.

"What caught your eyes, Captain?"

Satoru took the water bottle from Shoko's hand and took a big sip. "What are you doing here, Shoko? Don't you have that medical test or whatever to study for?"

Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment– "That was yesterday Gojo. So are you just going to ignore my question? Clearly, something is up for you to miss your shot a few days ago."

"No idea what you're talking about," Satoru replied as he fixed his hair. "Didn't miss nothing."

"Right. It's not like the whole school was gossiping about you missing for the first time."

"These people and their big mouths..." He mumbles. Funny coming from him since he himself would have done the same if the situation was flipped.

Shoko looked toward the place Gojo was eyeing and then saw you. She blinked once and then looked back at Gojo before huffing out a small laugh. Someone is going to be in for a surprise.

"That's his sister, y'know?"

"Not funny, Shoko," Satoru said before looking at Shoko's expression. She was serious. You and your brother look nothing alike. He sighs before mumbling a curse under his breath.

"Oh fuck indeed," Shoko laughs again as she turned towards the gym door. "Going to need some sweets?"

"Yeah, I'll pay you back later."

"Free of charge today. My compensation for this free entertainment. It's going to be an interesting few days." Satoru was now left to his own thoughts. He couldn't help but sigh at his predicament.

Satoru never got the chance to speak to you. Whenever he tries to go towards you, he stops and turns away. He couldn't help but be nervous when it comes to you. It's not his fault that he thinks he'll faint from hearing your voice. He'll talk to you one day when the opportunity arises. It seems fate had granted him his wish. Satoru had met you outside one morning right before his team game. You had accidentally bumped into him while rushing.

"Ouch!" You rubbed your nose from the sudden collision before looking up at him with your innocent and beautiful eyes. Oh fuck. Your voice was music to his ears. He just gone to heaven and what made it even worse was how you looked. Why the fuck do you look so pretty this early in the morning? He himself could barely get out of bed for today's game. His hair is messy and all over the place. His shirt is not all the way buttoned, and his tie is hanging loosely over his neck. If he didn't have a game today, he would be at school getting scold. He just looked like a mess compared to you. Sure, he is a hot mess right now, but this was not the impression he wanted to give when he talked to you. He listened to your endless apologies before interrupting with a question.

"You coming to the game?"

"Huh?" You stopped your apologies at his sudden question before his question clicked. You didn't know he noticed you during his practices. Your eyes instantly light up and grab his hand. "Yes, I am! I'm very excited since it's my first time witnessing a game! I've been to your practice for a while because of my brother's invitation. Oh, my brother is–"

As you continued your rambling, Satoru's eyes were fixated on the fact that you were holding his hands. Your small and soft hand holding his. He stopped your rambling by taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. An intimate act. You looked up at him in confusion, and before you could say anything, he was tugging you along.

"Making sure you don't get lost on the way. Let's walk together to the stadium." An excuse to keep your hand in his even though you were practically strangers. He made sure you couldn't let go.

When the two of you finally arrived at the stadium, he had to let you go. He didn't want to let go, but he had to go towards the locker room so he could change into his game uniform.

"Name is Satoru Gojo. Call me Satoru. Let's hang out after the game today." He then brought your hand towards his lips and kissed it. His eyes moved up towards your eyes, holding your gaze as he whispered– "Keep your eyes on me." He then quickly left towards the locker room, his ears burning from his sudden boldness. While he can dominate the court, you have dominated his heart.

When he entered the locker room, his team was already getting ready for the big games. He quickly went to his locker beside his best friend and started to undress his school uniform. Suguru was already ready for the game, so he was sitting on the bench in the locker room, drinking some water.

"I'm in love with your sister," Satoru blurted out, causing Suguru to immediately spit out the water he was drinking. Confusion and disbelief were written all over his face.

"What?"

Part 2

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #satoru gojo drabble #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru imagine #jjk imagines #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons

[oukabarsburgblr]

filthy drabble...

"Yeah, put it in me- mmff! I'm a cum dump. I'm a cum dump definitely- anggh!"

His hands were strapped to rubber cuffs that was connected to elastic ropes, its ends hooked on the upper corner of the beds. The (h/c) could pulls his hands but to a certain extent, he was still restrained, vulnerable under the men who was playing with his ass, shoving toys and groping his skin.

Someone slapped his butt, a whine from (m/n) as he pushed his hips back, grinding more on the toy that was deep and vibrating inside of his anus. He was intoxicated, so drunk that he couldn't even tell who was fucking him right now.

The toy was pulled out and he whined but moaned gleefully when a wet dick entered his ass. His knees dug into the plush bed, a room he didn't recognise but based off of the toys and bdsm equipment, it was definitely a love hotel.

"God, you're a pro at this. Good cunts get to have cum in their butts. You want it? You wanna drink some cum?" Someone was pounding his ass, their skin slapping together as (m/n) nodded ferverently, pulling on his restraints to the man that sat in front of him, gripping his jaw.

"I want it. I want some dick." He salivated and stuck out his tongue, drool pooling in the middle of the muscle. "Use me. Use me like a toilet, please." (m/n) squirmed, his face hot and his legs sticky. The stranger chuckled as he shimmied off his boxers, pulling out his cock as he ruffled (h/c) hair.

"If you lick it like an ice cream, I'll stick it in with him." He gestured to the other guy who was going to town with his hole. "Your hole is so good-mmff! Gonna cum in here." The man slapped his ass. "Make it leak and all, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

(m/n) couldn't respond, his tongue swirling around the tip of the cock in his face before shoving himself into the man's crotch, moving his throat to massage the base. The man hissed, shallowly thrusting in the (h/c)'s mouth while gripping his hair.

Ropes of cum shot out of (m/n)'s cock, the man behind him rubbing him as he gave one last thrust, spilling his seed deep inside his ass, rubbing his tip against his prostate. "Mmmgghh- oh fuck oh fuck." The (h/c) pulled his mouth away when the man behind him wouldn't stop jacking him off.

"I'm gonna cum again- wait wait-!" He squirted onto the bed, his hole tense and squeezed around the base that was still in him, his rim now dripping cum. "Don't forget about me." His hair was grabbed and he was forcefully shoved into a crotch, his mouth full as he gagged on the tip, the man moaning his name and as he thrusted into his face.

(m/n) mewled when the dick bursted in his mouth, suffocating him as he coughed deliberately, feeling a sharp pain up his nasal holes. "Did it came out your nose? Fuck, my bad." The stranger cheekily wiped his nose, grabbing a tissue to help (m/n) who blew his nostrils into it.

"There's so much, look!" He tossed the wet fabric at the guy behind him. "You're gross, man." "Shut up." The (h/c) was panting, drooling milky fluid from his lips as he shoved his ass against the man behind him. "C'mon, I need more. More cum, more cock-" He slobbered, wiggling his ass.

"So eager." The guy in front cooed at him.

"Pull him up."

-

"Ahh! Ah! Anggh! Urmm! S'deep- mmff! Cock's so big-!"

(m/n) wailed, his hips pulled behind him, as his arms was restricted with a leather fabric. He was suspended in the air, ropes pulling his arms from the hook of the ceiling and the only thing that was close to a surface was the penis that was nestled in his ass, pounding up into him.

"You're so beautiful like this. A waste if we don't use it, hmm?" The (h/c) nodded, kissing the stranger in front of him, the other man still fucking his back as they had switched their spots. His toes could barely reach the floor and his nipples were pinched by a toy clip, intensifying his pleasure as the man in front played with the pressure, releasing and clipping his sensitive buds.

Their tongues mashed together along with their dicks. The stranger humping onto his stomach, their precum dripping heavily onto the floor. "Mm ahh! Ackk-!" He gagged when the man shoved his tongue deep inside his mouth, somehow touching his uvula as he licked his palate, coating his mouth with his drool.

His ass was moving harshly against the man behind, skin was irritated from being pounded and previous cum was dripping onto the floor. (m/n)'s hands moved to grab his buttcheeks, spreading it so his rim was entirely exposed, liking the full bare pressure on his hole. "F-fucking perv'- mmngg! With an ass fat full of cum, I'm shocked if you're not pregnant after this."

The man licked his ear, sucking on his shell and thrusting his tongue into the canal earning a squeal from the (h/c). His cock was grabbed and was jacked off, the man behind him speeding up his pounds as he bursted his semen into (m/n)'s hole, pouring deeply along his walls.

The clips snapped on his chest, (m/n) screaming and creaming into the hand, someone bit his cheek, playfully pulling the skin. "Someone deserves a reward. For being such a good bucket for us." He pulled out, laughing at the amount of cum that dripped while holding the (h/c)'s hips.

(m/n)'s stomach was coated with fluids, the man in front cumming and slobbered the tip all over his skin. (e/c) eyes were drowsy as they moved him, his legs touching the floor as he sat obediently like a dog infront of the two who were jacking off to his face.

"Nice body, nice face...man, you're just built for this, aren't you?"

He nodded drowsily, whining as he grappled onto their dicks, greedily pointing it into his mouth. "No, no. Only good bitches get to drink cum. And you're the best one out there." The man slapped his face, (m/n) whimpered as he stared up at the two, pouting.

"Fucking hell, I can't with that look..." The other jerked off faster, moaning as he rubbed (m/n)'s cheek. "He's a bit rough, does it hurt?" "I like it. I like getting slapped." (m/n) confessed drunkenly, with a grin like telling his mother he got an A on his test.

The man laughed, rambling on how cute and confident the (h/c) is before slapping him as well. The (h/c) hissed, pulling his face back to face them with his mouth open. "Told ya' he's the best."

Both of them fastened their pace, inching closer to (m/n) who was eyeing their red tips, eager to swallow the salty liquid before one of them pushed his lower jaw up to close his mouth. "Not there."

Suddenly, they placed their tips onto his forehead, cumming sperm onto his skin, dripping down his face, cheeks and it slobbered over his eyelids. Some of it got into his hair as (m/n) whined. "What a waste.." One of them, the one who had slapped him first, rubbed the semen into his cheek, running his thumbs in circles.

"It won't be. You've got two dicks to cover for. Unless you're that fucking greedy."

-

(m/n) wasn't sure how coherent he was, sure he was drunk but his body was tired used over and over again. So many rounds and so many toys. His body was submitted into so many forms of horny torture.

His waist was strapped, his cock was tied with a ribbon, his hole was explored, them playing archer to see who could shoot his cum the most into his twitching hole while they locked his mouth with a gag ball.

His back had whip marks, one of them using a leather toy to whip his skin when he was riding the other. (m/n) had came so much at that time, shooting his sperm so much that it hit the guy's face he was bouncing on.

His ass was soft from how much they pounded into him, smacked and they loved it when their cum spilled out of his hole, dripping down his thighs as they fucked themselves into him more, watching how it squelched and the sticky strands connecting their skin together.

Currently, he was laying on someones chest, his legs pushed up as he mumbled incoherently with a dick static deep in him. "I...ugh...urm..." (m/n) didn't react much when a finger dipped inside his filled hole, pulling at his rim and he hissed when they pushed his walls. His mind was somehow clouded and blank, letting the two strangers stretch their hole, as one of them climbed on top of him, coating himself with lube.

"This one's for you, (m/n)." He cooed at the drunk (h/c) who gripped onto the man under them for stability, digging his nails into his bicep. The (h/c) couldn't breathe, his ass full with a cock and a tip slowly pushing past his strained rim. "I-It's gonna rip. Fuck- t-too full!"

"You were the one begging to have your ass shoved up with two dicks. Did you forget already?" He teased the drowsy (h/c), slowly pushing in as (m/n) clenched onto both of them, whining how much it hurts with his dick flat against his stomach.

"You'll be okay, it won't tear." The man under him comforted him, rubbing his nipples and licking at his nape. "This is your reward, remember? For being the best cum dump."

They moved slowly together, moaning at the heat and tightness and (m/n) had it the most. Screaming and cumming when they fucked him gently before gradually speeding up, using him as a cocksleeve. Grabbing his waist and pulling at it to slam him on both their cocks, the (h/c) crying how his ass was too full and they were bound to break his hole.

"Ngg-gah! Too much-TOO MUCH!" He screamed again when he both tips pushed against his prostate, kissing it as they pounded into him more and more, his legs pushed up to his shoulders. "Mmng angh anh shit shit!" He cussed as he felt like he was gonna come again, but tilted his head when nothing came out of his dick.

It was a drygasm, his hole unconsciously squeezing harshly onto both cocks. The one under him stayed still inside, yelping as he bursted inside (m/n)'s hole while the other pulled out, shooting his sperm at the (h/c)'s twitching rim, painting both the stranger's balls and (m/n)'s hole with his cum.

(m/n) wasn't sure what happened after, he was lying on the bed numb and full. The two men were talking to each other, their hands stroking his hair and his sore thighs. They turned their attention to him when he whined, annoyed how their focus wasn't on him.

"Prince finally woke up. Thought you died there, got him thinking we killed you with our dicks." "I was worried, you asshole. You went crazy on his body like a damn animal." "You slapped him first??"

They argued and (m/n) realised he had been laying in someone's lap. His thighs were gently massaged and his hair was being played with. He could get used to this.

"It was...good. I feel satisfied." He rambled mindlessly, the man rubbing his legs laughed. "If two men can't satisy you, then I'm worried what will." They were all chatting like friends despite being strangers in each other mere hours ago.

"Annh." (m/n) opened his mouth as he kneeled on the floor, showing off his tongue and he caught the guy off guard, his face amused and shocked by his enthusiasm. "Wow. I'm impressed, really. Don't have anymore in me. Unless you wanna be a real toilet."

"Just give me whatever. Whatever it is, I'll take it like a good whore." The other rubbed his hair, raking his fingers through his locks. "Consider it as a present then." He mumbled as the other one rubbed his penis in (m/n)'s face.

"Here comes the airplane!"

He jokingly slurred, pouring hot liquid onto (m/n)'s face who grinded onto their feet, squealing as the fluid came into contact with his skin. "Hah...hah...ha..." It wasn't cum. It definitely wasn't cum.

"We're going to have so much fun."

[END SCENE]

Afterthoughts :

I got horny mb

Keep in mind that these are empty characters, no connection to my ocs and these are just me being horny after class again. Please dont rq more of these weirdos cuz i genuinely donno who theyre gonna be. Ong someone tip me cuz im going broke ARGH Goodbye LOL

Edit : got off of my high...i donno what to feel abt this. The fact that theres no set character makes it feel bland, its literally just my desire to be squished in a threesome. Oh well this just proves that sex is better w feelings🥰 (im watching blue lock tonight!)

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations

#oukabarsburg #bottom male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #male reader smut #smut #reader smut

[alllgator-blood]

I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)

I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch

Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)

ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:

#cult of the lamb #comic #cotl #cotl bishops #shamura #kallamar #narinder #the one who waits #heket #leshy

[zyafics]

omg hi!! hope ur doing well i love ur writing btw, (play fake is one of my fav fics ive EVER read!!)

could u do a fic where rafe and reader are like best friends, and they’ve always both kinda liked each other but they dont really act upon it, until rafe gets a buzzcut and reader starts acting like real shy and clumsy around him bcs she’s shocked abt how he could get even MORE attractive, and then he gets linda confused so he asks her why she’s acting so different and then she tells him? make it as smutty and fluffy as u want! 🫶🫶

first off, ily 🥹 and omg, YES!! i've been thinking about this ever since i got your req in my inbox, so here's my very earnest attempt at doing it justice 🩷

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x bsf!female reader

content (5.3k words) 18+, fluff, smut, soft!rafe to reader only, protected p in v, f receiving oral, lots of banter!, nicknames used: baby and wildflower. — reader type kook, spontaneous, loves adventure, hates silence, loves noises, doesn't exactly like her reality, and friends with topper and kelce, but is only close to rafe!

dedication to @mintforadollar for helping me with the nickname and for @erwinsvow for her lovely fic, which i drew inspiration from and i've been obsessing over for the past two weeks <3

lıllılı Wildflower by 5 Seconds of Summer

"I want to run away."

It takes a moment for Rafe to register your confession and his response is a drowsy laugh. "Buy a guy dinner first."

You let out a groan, slumping against your wrinkled sheets and abundant pillows spread across your bed. "I'm being serious, Rafe. I'm tired of this house. It's too empty and quiet. I can't stand it. At night, I think I can hear my skin buzzing."

Rafe is accustomed to your sporadic calls regarding whatever issues you had with the world. Last week, it was about the insufficient amount of family portraits that frame the halls of your mansion.

"Maybe you just need to change your sheets."

"Stop!" You chastise. Rafe chokes up with another beat of laughter, low and rich with the deep timbre of his voice. The sound temporarily draws you away from your rant, igniting a small ember in your stomach. You brush away those tingly thoughts. "You're not listening to me."

"I think I'm listening to you perfectly fine, wildflower." He reassures, the solemnity of his tone takes you off the edge. Rafe shuffles on the other line, moving to a sitting position against his headboard. "What do you want? Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You cower from his offer, tucking one of your pillows under your chin. "You don't have to..."

"Don't get all shy with me now. You can't act this way when you're waking me up in the dead of night to report about your getaway plans."

"I feel bad."

Rafe sighs, getting off his bed. He knows the outcome of this conversation and rather prepares himself for the short drive. "I'm heading over."

"I could walk."

"It's freezing outside."

"Your house is down the block. I can survive."

"I'm already out the door. Just stay put." Rafe announces and before he's about to disconnect the call, he adds. "I'm serious."

He arrives in record time. Honking his truck with no regards for the nearby neighbors and you pad downstairs with a bag, descending down the driveway to the passenger side of his truck. A little shiver travels down your spine at the cool North Carolina weather.

"God, what did I tell you?" He scolds, noticing your lack of outwear, and reaches for the blanket in the backseats he keeps just for you. He throws it at your face, suffocating your air with a fluffy white fleece. You roll your eyes, covering your shoulders with it as Rafe reverses. "Where do you want to go?"

"Thought I'm supposed to buy you a meal first."

He doesn't bother entertaining your retort with a glance and flicks the side of your head with his fingers. You giggle. "We're not running away."

"Who said you're included in this adventure? I remember it being a one-person job."

Rafe scoffs. "You can't run away. You'd miss me too much."

"No, you'd miss me too much." You tease back, watching his lips pull to an upward curve at your words. It makes your heart flutters, knowing you always manage to get this side of Rafe. To the rest of Outer Banks, Rafe is seen as a precarious, self-absorbed playboy, but to you, he's your best friend.

And a little more.

The truck parks on the roadside of Tannyhill, the silhouettes of the estate surrounded by shadowy oak trees and a deep reflection of the moon on their waterfront view. Rafe doesn't make a move to leave, nor turn off the engine, before he turns to you.

"You okay?" He asks gravely, all humor stripped off his handsome features. You feel the air of your lungs stolen, at the amount of attention he's paying you, and the atmospheric change turns you to a bashful version of yourself.

"Fine." You answer, looking to your lap. "You know..."

Despite your house being a near-identical model to Rafe's, you hate yours. It's nothing about the architecture but rather the emptiness of the hallways. The cold floors sweep with minimalist decors. The echoes in the chambers where you can hear every little whirl in the air conditioner and creaks in the pipes. You'd rather be at Tannyhill.

Rafe doesn't say anything for the next few moments, observing you, before conceding a sigh. "Tell you what. I'll take you out on the Druthers tomorrow. We'll go bright and early, sail out for a couple of hours, watch the sunrise and it'll be something."

You lift your head, eyes lit up. "Is this our escape?"

"We gotta come back, though."

You frown but the offer remains enticing. It's better than nothing.

"Okay, deal." You nod, holding out your pinkie finger. Rafe scoffs at your gesture, but nonetheless, returns it. "Don't look so glum. You get to hang out with me."

"You do realize we have about three hours of sleep?"

You glance at the clock on his dashboard. He's right. But, you don't want to hold it off till another day. "I can go by myself. Just give me the keys for tomorrow."

He rolls his eyes, as if he would even consider that suggestion, and shakes his head. "I'm coming with you."

"Aren't you afraid you won't get your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up and get in the house."

You laugh and hop out of his truck. When you enter through his bedroom, you throw your bag to a random corner and stroll over to his closet in search for one of Rafe's tees to sleep in.

When you settle on something, you strip out of your clothes—in the middle of his bedroom, just as Rafe enters—and exchange it for his shirt. He had little regard for your act, having grown accustomed to you changing in front of him and vice versa. 

All Rafe does is pull off his own shirt, because he likes to sleep naked, and turns back to you. Unlike him, you're never going to get used to seeing him naked—the defined muscles of his chest, the toned planes of his abs, all those hours spent at the gym are clearly not wasted.

You flush, realizing you're ogling him longer than appropriate, and lift your gaze to find a smirk curving his lips. "Oh, shut it," you push his shoulders, causing him to laugh. He takes the opportunity to capture your hand, pulling the both of you onto his mattress, and you yelp.

Rafe changes your position so you're facing him, an arm sprawls over your waist, and there's about a couple of inches of space between the two of you. Here, in the low streams of the moonlight glistening through the veiled curtains and the faint aroma of his cologne on his pillows, you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

You say nothing. He says nothing, You stare into his cerulean eyes, knowing all this little emotions you're feeling all over—the light pricks on your skin where he touches you, the lapse in your breathing from how attentive he is, and the sharp incline of your heart rate pulsing through your veins—is because of him.

His voice is low when he says, "you know you're my best friend, right?"

You couldn't find it in you to answer. You just nod.

Rafe swallows hard, not having the ability to string together the next sentence. Instead, all he does is nod along, leaning forward to place a light kiss on your forehead, before falling asleep.

The next morning, just an hour before the sunrise, Rafe and you head to the ports to board the Druthers. Despite the lack of adequate sleep, you were giddily and strumming with high energy. He holds out his hand to guide you up the stairs, afraid your enthusiasm would cause you to miss a step. 

When the Druthers is far enough from shore, it pulls to a halt, gently bobbing on the ocean waves of the tame morning. You settle on the deck and Rafe slides into the spot next to you. Here, you have the perfect view of the sun slowly rising from the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of red, orange and yellow.

You're grinning. You're feeling much better, especially after your melodramatic episode. Your head rests on Rafe's chest, observing the skyline until the sun reaches its acme, while he watches you. Something about you, happy, content, and with him brings a warmth no one can replicate.

"We have to go swimming." You announce suddenly, twisting your head to look at him with excitement bubbling on your features, doe eyes pleading with a want.

His expression is flat, trying to contain his emotions. "It's seven in the morning."

"So? When has that stopped me before?"

"It's freezing cold."

"That's your excuse for everything." You scoff, before tilting your head in a challenge. "Are you scared of a little water, Rafe Cameron?"

There's a twinkle in your eyes, something about the way you talk to him, he would never allow from anyone else. It's just you. He had to look away, pretending to shake his head from the idea but knowing, at the end, he lost.

With a long dip into the ocean, you swim around the Druthers with light splashes thrown in his face, causing Rafe to chase after you for your little stunt. When the pair of you returned to the boat, dripping wet on the floor deck, laughter exchanging at the break of dawn.

"You cheated!" You accuse, grinning.

"I did not. You're just slow."

When you change out of your bikini and Rafe changes out of his swim trunks, you return to the cockpit where Rafe dons a new attire: khaki pants, a polo shirt, and his backward baseball cap. The air shifts, a more solemn expression on his face.

"You had enough now, wildflower?" He tips his head to your direction, as you approach him. "Ready to return back to the real world?"

You groan. "What's so special about that place?"

"Nothing that matters to you," he declares, "but I have a couple of errands I have to run today. I have to get back, but I won't leave until you're feeling better."

"Hm." You consider your satisfaction. Standing before Rafe, you watch as his lips curl in amusement at the way you're mauling through the finer details. The itinerary of your day and whether it was enough. When your eyes lock with his, you offer him a sweet smile, albeit a little reluctant.

"What?"

You don't answer him, reaching for his hat and taking it off his head, before plopping it over your own as a keepsake souvenir. "Now, I am."

—

After spending your afternoon with Topper and Kelce at the Country Club, distracting them from their tee time with your commentary about their swings, Rafe finally arrives to join you.

But it's different.

When Rafe said he had a couple of errands to run, you didn't ask for their specifics. He just said he'll join you later and you were content with that assumption.

You should've prepared yourself.

Rafe got a new haircut; a buzz that took away his dirty blond locks and a clean fade on the sides. For some reason, it makes your heart accelerate. Your breath shortens. Rafe has always been attractive before but now, you couldn't even look at him.

When he tries to approach you in greeting, you dip out of the way and return to Topper and Kelce. However, in the middle of your path, you nearly tripped over some hazardously-abandoned golf club one of the boys threw out, but Rafe caught you. A hand on your elbow, his brows drawn together in concern.

"You good?" He asks. You can't help but let your eyes stray up to his hairline, finding it voided of the curtain bangs it previously occupies and the strands you like to mess with. Your gaze instantly drops to the ground.

"I'm–I'm fine." You stutter, heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassing fact that you couldn't even make a clean getaway. Rafe helps you find your balance and you slip out of his grasp as you excuse yourself back to the other Kooks.

That's how the rest of the evening went. Through another round of golf and a dinner at the restaurant inside the Country Club, you try to ignore Rafe to the best of your abilities. It was a difficult task but a necessary one. Your emotions were fuzzy and harder to control. You couldn't even look at your best friend without flushing or revealing everything on your face.

You thought you could wait it out till you get home.

"Come on, wildflower." Rafe grabs your wrist, just as you're about to join Topper in his car, and you turn to face his contempt expression. Annoyance written over his features. "I'm driving you home."

"No, it's fine. Top said he can give me a ride—"

"We live nearby each other. There's no point for Top to do all that. Right?" Rafe cuts a hard look to the blond in the driver seat, to whom easily backs off with two hands raised in surrender. Coward. Rafe turns back to you. "Let's go."

You end up in the passenger seat of his truck. On the long drive back to Figure Eight, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Often, you would fidget with the stereo, messing with Rafe's presets on country and rap stations, to which he always has to swat your hands away. Today, you sat obediently in your seat, hands tucked between your thighs, looking anywhere but Rafe.

"You're not going to listen to music?" He asks, trying to cut the silence. You shake your head.

"I'm not feeling it."

You try to count the seconds. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window and listening to the chirps of crickets coming out, but all you can focus on is the sound of yours and Rafe's breathing. The acute awareness of something in the air. The amount of space between the two of you. The way something deep in you changed about him.

It isn't his fault. Whatsoever. It's all yours. All those times spent at Tannyhill, stealing his shirts to wear to sleep, cuddling up in his bed after sneaking out of your estate, running around with Rafe doing god-knows-what. You developed something for him. A crush. An inkling.

You always told yourself you could control it. It's natural for best friends to like each other at one point. It'll fade away eventually.

But, unfortunately for you, that isn't the case. it got worse. It grew more desperate. With each inching territory into something else means a larger consequence it can have on your friendship.

You can't lose him.

"Hey." Rafe calls out, his voice softens considerably from the aggression he used with Topper a while back. You don't turn to face him, despite that being his sole objective, and you respond back with a light hum. "Am I driving you home or Tannyhill?"

To you, those are the same things. Home is where Tannyhill is, where Rafe is. But, you knew what he was referring to.

"Tannyhill." You answer in a chipped tone. "I forgot my bag."

"Of course, you did." He teases, trying to break the tension with some lightheartedness. It doesn't work. You don't answer, too lost in resisting the urge to look at him.

Rafe sighs when you refuse to acknowledge him and turns back to the road. That's when you spare a glance from the corner of your peripheral; just a small peek.

And there he is: Rafe with the fresh shave that is such a strange yet welcomed sight. It brings out a clearer definition of his handsome features, the planes of his sharp profile, the cut of his jawline and the wrinkles around his eyes you always adore. It's too much for you.

You can't let him know that.

He's your best friend.

When he reaches Tannyhill, you leap out of the moving vehicle and race up the porch. You take the hidden key from under the mat and turn the lock, slipping into the familiar foyer and up the large stairwell.

Racing against an internal clock, once you enter the bedroom, you search for your bag, but you can't seem to pinpoint its location. When you manage to miraculously find it underneath the covers, you throw it over your shoulders and sprint to the exit.

Only for Rafe to block it.

"Why are you in such a rush?" He asks, his brows furrowed together as he examines you. You quickly drop your gaze to the ground, pretending to be interested in the patterns on the marble.

"I just..." You stammer for an excuse. "I just got to get home."

"Why? You hate your house."

"I don't hate it." You lie. The conversation tips into an awkward tension—the exact thing you were trying to avoid. You think you need to spend a day, or two, or a whole week, to collect yourself and force yourself back to normal. Back to when you can look at him without revealing everything on your face.

"God, what is it? You don't like it?" Rafe laughs with an ounce of nervousness and the sound takes you back. You look up, finding him running a hand over his buzzcut. "It's my hair, isn't it?"

He didn't know why he decided to buzz it off. He just did. He didn't care if his father didn't approve or if Wheezie would make fun of him for the sudden change in appearance. That didn't matter to him.

But your opinions did.

"What?" Your lips part. Were you that obvious? "I never said that."

"You didn't need to. This entire evening, you've barely looked at me."

He's right.

"I was busy."

"Playing golf with Top? You hate that shit." He retorts, dropping his hand to his side, clenching them into whiten knuckles. "And when we were at the restaurant. You were sitting with Kelce. Why the fuck were you sitting with him instead of me?"

You swallow hard. Your throat is tightening with all the words you can't reveal.

"Maybe I just want to change it up. I am friends with them too—"

"But you're my friend first."

You scoff. "Possessive much?"

"Very." He answers nonchalantly. Your heart skips a beat. He can't say that; it's not fair. "And knowing you for so long, I know what you're telling me is complete and total bullshit."

His hand slides under your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his, and you can't help but feel your walls crumbling. You're afraid. You're so afraid.

"Come on, wildflower." He murmurs softly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. "Tell me the truth."

You have always been able to do that. In ways. When Rafe asks something of you, you're always able to tell him straight. It's one of the qualities he likes about you. Now is the first time you're going against your nature. Because it's too close, too real, that it can change everything.

Your throat grows dry and you lick your bottom lip, causing Rafe to glance down.

"I..." You begin, trying to string together a coherent sentence that won't damage everything. He raises a brow, waiting. "Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you."

You close your eyes after the confession. Your heart is in his hands.

All the air in the room stills, as if the air conditioner turns off and you're all left with a tense, palpable silence. You can't bear it. At least, at your house, you can blast your speakers on full-volume to create some level of noise and block it out. Here, all you can hear is the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"Say something." You urge.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you too."

Your heart drops. You think he doesn't understand. He thinks you can't stand him physically, especially after his haircut, and this is a similar sentiment shared by him about you.

He doesn't feel the same way.

"Oh."

You open your eyes, trying hard not to cry. You can feel them swelling with hot tears but you blink fast, trying to not let Rafe see.

He immediately recognizes the look, drawing back his hand. That’s not what he meant. "Don't cry."

You're not doing a good job at hiding anything today. "No, it's okay," you say with a crack voice, "you don't have to—"

"No, fuck," he swears, "what I mean is that, sometimes, when you look at me, I just—" He couldn't explain himself, not in time, not in the way he wants, that he covers your eyes, flooding your vision with darkness and heightening every other sense.

Rafe releases a deep exhale, collecting himself. "Those eyes..." He mumbles, the resonance of his voice so close, it's as if he's right beside you. You feel his breathing fanning against the curve of your neck, raising goosebumps. "They drive me fucking insane."

Then, he kisses your neck.

The act jolts you by surprise.

"Everything about you drives me insane." He confesses against your heated skin, the vibration of his words sending straight tingles through your body. "I can't go a day without thinking about you. About wanting you."

Not just as a best friend, but as a whole. Everything about you he needs. In his life; forever. Sometimes, he can't believe you exist.

You're overwhelmed with all these new emotions. Your heart is swelling. "Rafe..."

"You're my best friend, right?" He muses, delivering kisses up the column of your throat to the underside of your jaw, and making his way closer to your lips. "But you're also the only one for me."

Before he gets to your mouth, you grab his wrist, the one holding you blindfolded. He stops in place—afraid this is your time to reject him.

"Rafe." You breathe out. "Can I see you?"

He slowly removes his hand, allowing your vision to flood back with his presence. This time, the sight of Rafe doesn't push you into overdrive. There's a new sense of clarity and calm, an elated comfort you don't share with anyone else.

You take your time drinking him in. From his face, to his lips, to the fresh haircut you're feeling entirely too grateful for. You do it all without fear.

"What?" He demands, his insecurities skyrocketing through the roof. "Don't like it?"

"I love you."

His heart lunges in his chest. He couldn't believe the words coming from your lips. When it completely registers that this is not some sweet, wet dream he's going to wake up from, his hands reach forward to cup either side of your face and he finally kisses you.

His force pushes you back against his bed and you land on the mattress with a soft thump. You laugh into his mouth and Rafe grins against your lips.

"Eager, much?"

"I wanted to hear you say that for so long." He admits, his hand travels down your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer. Rafe deepens the kiss, swallowing the little sounds you're making, until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

You can't believe this is happening.

"I didn't know you were such a good kisser."

"Yeah? You wanna know what else I'm good at?"

Your eyes drop to his pants, seeing the subtle outline of his erection straining against his zipper, and he chuckles lowly. "You want it tonight?"

You nod timidly. Your eyes dropping to your lap again, but this time, Rafe doesn't allow you to do such things.

He grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to his. "Don't do that, baby. You know how I feel about you getting shy from asking what you want. Use your words."

The new nickname is making you lightheaded. You can't believe this is real. "I want you, Rafe."

Sweetest goddamn words he ever heard.

He tips his head to your clothes. "Take it off."

"You first."

He laughs at your competitiveness, always trying to challenge him, but he doesn't resist. He pushes himself off the mattress, pulling off his shirt and removing his pants. All that is left is his boxer-briefs, which reveals the outline of his bulge. "Your turn."

You take off your shirt and your shorts and decide, last minute, to go the extra mile and unclasp your bra too. It falls over your shoulders and you throw it out onto the floor.

Rafe takes his time, staring at your tits. He has seen you naked before, the consequence of your intimate relationship that pushes the boundaries into blurred lines and the inevitable collision of morning showers in his ensuite and drunken exchanges after parties.

But this time, it's different. This time, it's a sight that's intentional—just for him.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

You gawk at him, the words send a thrill down your spine. "Do you know how long I waited for this?" You gesture back to him, at his naked frame, and he smirks.

"You got an eyeful last night."

"Oh, shut up," you use your leg to kick him, but Rafe catches your ankle in the process. Your eyes widen as he uses the opportunity to spread your legs apart, sinking between your thighs. His gaze finds your soaked panties.

His thumb traces across your panties, drawing out your wetness against the fabric and collecting your arousal. You whimper, aching into his touch.

"Rafe, please." You beg. His eyes lifts to find yours in a self-satisfied grin. He loves knowing you're this desperate for him, only him, that his fingers hook under the band of your panties.

"Lift your hips for me." He commands and you obey. He pulls off your panties and hauls you to the ledge of his bed. With that, his fingers caress your wet slit, drawing out a low moan from you. "Fuck."

He has imagined that sound a thousand times over, but it's incomparable to the real thing. To know you're feeling this way because of him. He feels himself growing harder, straining against the thin fabric and begging to be inside of you.

But he wants to pleasure you first.

Rafe lowers himself and covers your clit with his mouth. He proceeds to suck, his fingers grazing your entrance before plunging a thick digit inside.

You tip your head against the mattress, reveling in the feel of his tongue against your swollen nub, the way he thrusts into you with a steady pace and the additive finger. Your legs drape over his shoulders, closing him in.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet," Rafe mumbles against you, the vibration of his words stirring something inside of you. "I can't believe I haven't been tasting you every single fucking night."

You draw out with a breathy moan, feeling yourself clench at his words. "We have all the time now."

"I bet I can make you come on my face fast, though."

You don't get a chance to entertain the response before Rafe sucks harder, pumping inside of you with a determined speed that causes you to arch off the mattress and claw at his sheets.

"Shit," you whimper, squeezing your thighs together at the intense pleasure, forcing Rafe to use his free hand to push your legs apart. You feel your climax rapidly approaching. "Oh, god, oh, god."

You come on his face, as promised, and you slump back against the bed, catching your breath. Rafe removes his hand from your cunt, the emptiness causes a little whine.

"What?" He looks at you.

"Nothing," you mumble, "I just want you inside me."

He laughs. "God, you're needy," he teases, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby, you'll get it soon."

He goes to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Just as he's about to tear it open, he glances down at you, extending the small square. "Want to do it?"

You nod, pushing yourself upright and taking it from his hands. You rip it open, as Rafe removes his boxers, and his cock springs free, red and swollen with a bit of precum. You smile, glancing up at him with your doe eyes. "Is that because of me?"

"Shut up."

You giggle, rolling the latex over his length, taking your time to admire his size. He's big and perfect, the tip of his cock dripping with his precum that you almost wish you could take him inside your mouth instead. However, despite the recent orgasm, your body wants him inside.

"Lay back." He commands thickly. "Spread your legs."

You do as he says, throbbing from the control he has in the room. Rafe sinks his knees into his mattress, approaching you as he pushes your thighs apart and lines his tip against your entrance, causing your breath to shorten.

"Come on, wildflower, breathe with me."

You nod shakily, closing your eyes for a moment to inhale a calming breath before he plunges deep inside you, filling you to the hilt. A gasp escapes you, his girth stretching you out, but it soon fades into a pleasure unlike any others.

"God, you feel good," he mumbles, lowering himself to your mouth and capturing your lips into a hot kiss. Your hand drapes over his shoulders as he begins to thrust inside of you. "Too fucking good."

You feel perfect. All of this is too perfect. The way you press against him, your fingernails scraping his back, the way your pussy grips him with the ideal amount of pressure, and the way your lips sync with his as if you were made for him.

The air fills with your whimpers and mewls, increasing in volume with each thrusts that enters and leaves you, while Rafe is heaving in breathy grunts and moans. He pushes your legs back, forcing the new position to grant him deeper access into your sweet cunt.

He's hitting new spots you didn't know were possible. It's making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cries coming out with desperate pleas, that he had to cover your mouth with his to swallow all the noises.

When you feel yourself reaching a familiar high, the buzz tingling between your legs, you grip his shoulders tight. Rafe feels your walls fluttering around him, and he quickened his pace, sweat breaking across his forehead.

Your breath is heavy, your heart is racing, and as you ascend into your peak, you moan out Rafe's name with such euphoric satisfaction, he comes with you, emptying into the condom.

When he finishes, he falls into the space next to you. His breathing is rough, trying to catch his own breath, that you can't help but turn your gaze to his, examining him under this new light.

Rafe catches you staring, the way your eyes lift to his hairline, and he reassures with a soft brush against your jaw. "It'll grow back, I promise."

"it's not that." You declare, dropping your gaze down to his face. You still can't believe the embarrassment you still feel by how attractive he is. "I like it."

"You do?"

"Why else would I hide from you?"

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hand drops to your waist, pulling you closer to him until you're skin-to-skin, your breasts pressing against his chest.

"You couldn't tell me the whole time?" He mumbles, kissing your nose. You giggle.

"If I did, we wouldn't be here having sex."

He takes a moment to consider your words, before finding some merit in them. "Fair." He declares, just as his eyes find yours again. This time, he can look at you, knowing you're his. "I guess next time I get a new haircut, I can propose, huh?"

Your heart drops. Your smile fades from surprise. "What?"

He laughs at your expression. "You think I'm letting you go after this? It's either us or nothing."

Maybe reality isn’t too bad. 

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