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katsukikitten · 4 months

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Men suck! So why not drain their bank accounts for wasting your time?! It would be foolish not to. Even more foolish to push the buttons of a very powerful man in the underground world of Tokyo.

But hey wait! He messaged you first! He wanted you to be his sugar baby so badly it makes him look stupid!

Although Bakugou Katsuki is anything but stupid.

It was supposed to be an easy mark. He followed all of the rules of the unspoken game between sugar baby and sugar daddy. He reached out to you first. He set the time and place for the first date and he asked about your pricing.

To which you told him was a steep two thousand consultation.

Immediately there was a notification with your fee plus a little extra for the expedited meeting in your bank account before he messaged you again.

Wear somethin nice.

His profile was vague as most marks were. Choosing to keep their identity a secret, embarrassed to have to buy a woman's time with their endless cash flow for one reason or another.

Some because of their looks, some their abhorrent attitude, some because they were too busy drowning in their work and some because they just couldn't be bothered for much of anything real only to fall in love after the third date thinking they could buy your heart like they did everything else.

Because at the end of the day all of these marks had something in common. Something to exploit.

They were all terribly lonely.

And despite how forward this mark is, like others have been before him, he was no exception to this rule.

You roll your eyes as you doll up for tonight's meeting. You always wore something nice and appropriate for the setting yet undeniably sexy. Something that made every eye rove over you with the heated gaze of envy. Something that made you everything those men wanted you to be.

A trophy, a status symbol, a yes I'm fucking that.

Scrolling his profile or lack thereof, a little bit more in an attempt to be his perfect baby girl. Knowing that to have a good long lasting con to afford you the luxuries you sat in now, you had to shed your true skin and stuff yourself into something two sizes too small.

Because all men expected that of all women. Of anything of their desire. One must cut away the truest, deepest parts of themselves in order to hold a man's attention span for longer than five minutes. The second you start to look anything relatively human and anything more than a walking sex kitten or cock sleeve is the second they lose interest.

A man often times doesn't want to actually fill the loneliness, not with anything long term, they just want to relieve the ache in their cock.

At least that's all you've ever known and so who was anyone to judge you to exploit them how they exploited others.

Smiling at your reflection as you apply dark eyeliner to your lid, dragging it across your lash line as you go for a more noire mysterious look since you cannot find out much about your potential benefactor. Not that that worried you, you'd worn many skins before.

A recently divorcee, a 'single mom', but most benefactors liked a heavy power imbalance. They lived for the broke college girl act. Showing up in threadbare dresses that were still cute in an old shit box car you'd borrow from a friend and some classical piece of literature those fucks could recognize but knew they'd never read.

Mostly you figured they enjoyed that broke college girl act because they felt they were "helping you build a solid future" all while neglecting their own real daughters at home that they constantly compared you to. Showed you pictures of, similar in age to you and you'd have to stamp down the disgust at these men who probably didn't even know their real baby girl's favorite color.

Absolving themselves of guilt you supposed.

However this new benefactor was something to be excited about, mostly because of the unknown that he seemed to shroud himself in. No interests filled in, no movies or hobbies or songs that he likes.

Not even a profile picture or his name. Just GZ for now and when you checked the banking information on your wire in, it didn't give you any real leads. Received from a business or estate account that google results had no address or number for.

Only his age, 32. Three years your senior.

Which wasn't too bad of a gap well to you anyway, he saw your age as 25 because anything older than that, even one fucking year, men's interest dropped by sixty percent.

Another message comes through the little app.

GZ: Give me your number.

Aggressively forward as you giggle to yourself reading the message, let the read receipts show your interest when you lock your phone and don't reply. Taking the time to apply a nice dark shade of lipstick that made your mouth absolutely sinful as you wore a skin much too close to the real you. Going to your closet for your dress, knowing he was taking you to a very expensive, very highly rated restaurant, most likely to both flaunt and prove he has money.

Zipping up the velvet body con dress with a halter top, the hem stopped just above the knee and you knew it would ride up when you sat down or walked in your black heels with the pearl strap. Pulling on bicep length lace gloves and putting on an onyx ring on your middle finger before adding your pearl necklace to make a suggestion of what he could do to you at the very steep price of seven thousand dollars.

Some men even paid it and even asked to do it in the parking causing them to pay an expedited fee of four thousand. It meant nothing to you and every bit of power they thought they held over you to them.

Opening a drawer to your vanity all with unused pairs of underwear. Choosing a black lacey pair where the ass would be half exposed by lace and strings digging around for the to go tide pen so you could lightly bleach the crotch to make it seem as if they'd been worn all damn day "just for him"

Fuckin gag me.

Your phone pings again, another notification from the SDSB app.

GZ: I don't like waiting, Sweetheart, give me your number.

This time you reply but only after looking over your outfit in the mirror, debating if he'd be into stockings and ripping them before you realize it might make you look a little too conservative for his tastes.

Bbgrl: tell me what GZ stands for and I'll give you those special digits

GZ: I don't barter

Bbgrl: Everything comes at a cost. You know this otherwise you wouldn't be messaging me.

You watch the bouncing bubbles pop up before his quick reply.

GZ: Ground Zero

GZ: Now give me your fuckin number Princess.

Bbgrl: maybe in person, Mr Zero.

Not giving away your actual number was your number one rule and because the last sugar daddy you cut off went full tilt you had to disconnect your other phone and just hadn't had a chance to get a burner yet.

Picking up a small clutch purse you shove inside your lipstick for the night, your phone, the doctored pair of underwear and you don't even bother to bring any sort of wallet.

Walking to a public place a block or so from your luxury condo before you flag down a cab giving them the address as the man smiles down at your cleavage. Enjoying the view in the rearview and it's a wonder he doesn't crash and kill you both. Leaning down to meet his gaze with a disarming smile, wearing a skin to protect both you and him from harm as you force a giggle.

"Eyes on the road silly." When really you wanted to take the knife strapped to your ribs and slit his throat for thinking he even deserved to stare at you like that.

You wore this dress for attention yes but there is a fine line between appreciation of a body and straight up eye fucking you.

And just because you wore this dress didn't give him the right to stare. Counting down from ten as you have pretty visions of gouging his eyes out only for him to pull up right to the restaurant, acting as if he was going to get out and help you.

"No need." You smile politely, "And the fare?"

You look at the triple zeros and his eyes flash to it in embarrassment, so busy eating you alive with his eyes he forgot to start it.

"On the house for a pretty lady."

Forcing a smile as you give him a thanks, leaving the cab as quickly as you can before you walk inside, twenty minutes late for the date.

Tardiness was a big part of the game, whether it agitated them or made them anxious, it would certainly place a little more power on your initial interaction. Gaging their reaction to your power play always determines how you'll respond. Clueless, lost, down right stupid.

The hostess gives you a warm smile as she welcomes you into the restaurant asking of your party size. You're quick to tell her you're here for GZ.

"Or maybe under the name Ground Zero if the initials are too vague." You smile and watch the hostess blanche a moment before she fixes her face.

"Right this way." Expect she doesn't lead you all the way over there, stops just before the darker corner of the restaurant making a gesture with her hands and you chalk it up to nerves. That maybe he owned the whole fucking restaurant.

Watching his large palm swirl a bourbon straight, watch his other heavily ringed hand card through his ash blonde locks.

"Mr Zero?" You ask with a cat like smile, coming to stand beside the table. He glares up at you either oblivious or acting it as you wait for him to pull out your chair.

"Yer fuckin late Princess." He doesn't wait you out though can tell from a glance you'll stand there with your sexy ass heels rooted to the hardwoods of the restaurant before you'd ever sit down. He doesn't give in, this just happened to give him a chance to show his stature. He slams his drink down, clattering the water glasses and your wine glass filled with a pinkish color. Most likely something sweet. For a moment it makes you wonder if he read your profile considering most men didn't bother and showed it often on their first dates that they hadn't when they ordered you red wine. Which you had as your top dislike.

When he rises he's much much bigger than you. Tall enough you have to crane your head up to look at him, broad shoulders and now that he's fully facing you you can see his scarred face. A deep fissure of discolored skin from just over his eyebrow cutting through his eye flaring over his cheek before tapering off at his throat before it meets another deep scar that's hidden under his shirt.

He didn't even bother with a dress jacket, only a dress shirt, black, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his tattoos and even more scars, his black vest if swirling velvet on the front only emphasizes his broad chest and tapered waist.

He stands there a moment watching you take him in and he cannot lie he is surprised. Most women cowarded at his size especially when they see his scar and his half clouded bromine eye but you just smile. Maybe even a bit of excitement flashed in your eyes but you stand unmoving still that fuckin cat smirk on your dark stained lips.

"My chair, Mr Zero." You remind him and he snarls, leaning in close to your face tipping your chin up to him. It's here you realize how large his hands are, especially when the other settles at your ribcage a moment. You just hope he doesn't feel the knife nestled there and take it as a threat to himself.

"I told you I didn't like waiting." He growls, "So what makes you think Imma continue this date?"

"You're still here aren't you? Besides," You half guide him by moving your face gently from his grip, stepping towards your chair and he follows, "You wouldn't want to cancel a date with such a pretty girl would you?"

"A pretty woman." He corrects with a growl, pulling back your chair and shoving it in roughly when you sit, leaning behind you to whisper in your diamond clad ear, "Yer no girl that's for sure."

As if to say a predator recognizes a predator but you feign ignorance.

"Year?" You ask, smelling your wine before taking a sip. It's fruity, peach you realize with hints of citrus and angel food cake.

"Didn't ask." He bites waiting for you to ask where the menus were, he makes eye contact with the waiter to signal to start their meals. Oblivious, you take another sip of this amazingly delicious wine.

"Bit of a dessert wine isn't it?" You comment, usually men would blunder by now realizing they aren't as prestigious or well versed as they pretended to be but this man proves to be different once again.

"Peach pairs well with spicy and smokey." Glaring right back at you before a mean smile curls his lips, "Unless ya lied twice on your profile."

You set the wine glass down thanking the waiter when they leave fresh bread. Zero is faster than you grabbing for the crusty pre dinner treat as he butters the rich white center before placing the slice on your plate before starting his own.

"Hmm, I haven't lied on my profile." You refuse to touch his offering for now.

"Sweetheart, you may look twenty five but I know that you're closer to thirty than what you want to admit." There's that cruel smile of his again.

"It's quite rude to make a woman seem older than what she is. Touchy subject ya know?" Going back to sipping your wine as you've decided you may need a buzz to endure this date, "Or maybe you don't have a lot of experience with women. Is that why I'm here?"

Smirking over the vein protruding from his throat but the satisfaction only lasts so long, thoughts rounding back to wondering how the fuck he knew your real age and so quickly.

Suddenly you feel his fingers wrapping around the back of you knee as he pulls you forward leaning over the table.

"Haaah? Ya think I don't have experience with women? Oh sweetheart I could have you begging to take my cock in this bathroom in under ten minutes. But I need you for somethin else." He lets his bruising grip go when he sees a flash of the real you, sees your pretty lip snarl in disgust before you fix your face so quickly it would have him wondering if he ever saw that snarl or not.

He thinks he likes this version more than what his right hand picked out from your profile.

Your profile was vague but your photo album was filled with a lot of photos that men could easily project on or imagine themselves with you. Looking demure, easy going, a submissive.

Really Bakugou can tell you're a fucking brat at best and far from demure.

"Is that true Mr Zero? Sex on the first date is quite expensive." You smile cutely, make it a giggle all while the steak knife whispers to you that it belonged shoved through his hand on the table.

"I bet it is sweetheart." He spits back.

"So…our contract?" You're ready to rush this along thinking that maybe this benefactor isn't going to work out and that you'll have to save your underwear for another time.

He leans back, finally looking a little more relaxed as you bring up business as if contracts and dealings were part of his expertise. Taking a sip of his bourbon as he looks you over in that fine velvet dress he imagines on the floor of his expensive bedroom.

"Dunno can ya behave long enough to talk about it?" Deadly smirk on his lips now, one that makes your stomach clench.

"I always behave, Mr. Zero." A purr, one that changes the tone of the entire dinner, at least for now.

A light scoff but he's smiling, genuinely and he looks so handsome like that. His eyes catch something you don't see before the waiter comes over with two starter salads.

You look down at the fresh bed of greens matching his and try not to grimace that he's most likely ordered dinner for you. Hating when benefactors took it upon themselves as they never paid enough attention to order even remotely right.

"Let's see how dinner goes first yea, princess? Gotta make sure I like it before I buy it." A clear taunt and stab at you to which you give a tight smile. Him placing himself above you but you were determined at the very least to secure the after dinner deposit fee from him that was clearly stated on your profile.

Any dinner lasting longer than two hours or is set after eight thirty pm is considered to be equal to two consultation fees.

He already violated the time since he messaged you at exactly six pm tonight and you were always sure to take your time getting ready.

But you had to finish the fucking date first.

"Okay." Agreeing without issue as you bite your tongue. Finishing your salad and your wine, asking him to order you another glass. Batting your eyelashes and for a second you see his face flash with something other than his gruff nature. Standing with the brief explanation of "freshening up."

Annoyed as you enter the ladies room, looking at your reflection as if to share a what the fuck glance with a friend before rooting around in your bag. Touching up your lipstick, spraying yourself with a bit of your perfume that made all the men insane for you before turning your attention to your hair.

Making sure it was still in perfect placement as you angle your pretty face this way and that. Clutch open on the vanity, the dummy pair of underwear threatening to fall out. Checking your account to see if the rest of this date was worth it when you see your stipulation fee is sitting in your account despite the date only being an hour long thus far.

Figuring you'll make this date worth it now, mostly curiosity getting the best of you over what is going to make this contact so fucking special he's more than willing to pay everything upfront.

To deal with your more cheeky side you used to scare off weaker men.

Clawed fingers curling around the soft pair of underwear, rubbing them between your hands vigorously to make them warm to the touch. To have him thinking that this sexy lingerie style underwear was nestled right to your cunt.

Balling them up as you make your way out of the bathroom while the waitresses gossip over the fact that some violent ringleader was dining there tonight and that he was "dangerously hot." Hushing when they see you pass the refreshment nook before you make your way back to the table.

Thankfully his left hand with all his rings is resting on its side on the table giving you more than enough space to press the warm fabric into his palm and curling his fist around it before sitting back across from him. Giving a flirtatious smile to the large blonde who turns his hand to see what you placed into his palm. Smirking and shaking his head as he looks down at the fabric.

Unfurling it with his large hand and seeing the pair of underwear with a little spot on the crotch that makes him chuckle.

You look over your meal that's been set out, can tell he was polite enough to wait for you as the aroma of spicy smoked meat sits before you. Breathing deeply and hating to admit that you'd actually like this dish. Picking up your fork as you let him become dumbfounded over the thought that you were bare under your dress when that was far from the truth.

Bakugou leans over the very expensive meal on the small table. Grabbing at your jaw a bit tightly so he can turn your face to husk in your ear.

"Now gimme the ones you're actually wearing, Princess." He growls, pulling back to hold out his hand expectantly.

Feigning innocence you look up at him and bat your eyelashes since that worked earlier, even letting your eyes get a little glassy.

"Wh-what are you talking about Mr. Zero?" Voice soft and going softer still when you add, "Those are my underwear. I wore them just for you."

He laughs loudly in your face and his grip tightens, mouth back at your ear with a deadly tone. A mix of playful flirtation and restrained anger.

"Now Princess, 'fore I get mad."

It sends a chill down your spine and a jolt to your cunt. Breaking your facade entirely when you let sharp nails bite into his thick wrist as you yank away your face. Looking around trying to come up with an excuse that this was too much of a public place before he adds.

"We're secluded enough." Letting his fingers wave impatiently with his palm up. Your eyes widen as you see how serious he is. Unable to hide the snarl on your lips or the flash of deep seeded anger in your eyes as you obey a benefactor's command instead of tricking them into thinking they had control.

Shimmying up your little bodycon dress, hooking sharp clawed thumbs into the band of the underwear to bring it down past your thick thighs that part for just a moment exposing your pretty mound to Bakugou by accident. It makes saliva coat his tongue and his cock twitch in his expensive pants.

Quickly fixing the hem of your dress that still tries to ride up thanks to your hips and thighs, balling up the black underwear and slapping it into Bakugou's waiting palm harshly. The corner of his lip curls up as he realizes it's a thong, much better than the dummy pair you gave him moments ago.

"You're such a fuckin pervert." You cross your arms over your chest, pushing up your tits giving the ash blonde a snarling pout. Wholly forgetting about your dinner now as you look away from him, can't believe he's won this round.

"Yea? Who's fault is that? Yer the one who gave me a clean pair of underwear to make me love sick for ya so I'd cough up all my cash." He makes no move to pocket the thin pair of underwear you've just given him, making your eyes dart to look for the approaching waiter, "This work on most men Sweetheart?"

"Tsk, yes." You scoff, "Then they send me whatever I fuckin want."

Pushing away a bit, thinking of leaving from how condescending his tone is. Inspecting the first pair you've given him now that he has the actual pair you'd been wearing, looking closely at the crotch.

"Did ya use a bleach pen on these 'fore ya came in?" He laughs when he watches your face blanch, most men couldn't tell. Just thought it was real and went with it, asked for more.

The waiter starts to come back to the table with another glass of Bakugou's bourbon and your wine, trying not to crack. Shoving down the panic and letting your nails bite into your palm letting crescent moons form in your soft skin. To try not to shove his hands into his lap to save you the embarrassment because the last thing you want him to know is that he's actually getting under your skin. He looks over his shoulder to follow your gaze, feral smile on his mouth.

"Besides, who's the real pervert here, Me for enjoying a pretty woman's time," He rolls the dark fabric around in his hand, still warm from your cunt and when he gets to the crotch it's damp, sticky, "Or you, for getting off to playing some dumb ass men outta thousands."

"I'm not-"

"Not what? Wet?" He laughs, letting his thumb slide through the slick of your underwear, uncaring that the waiter is here now. Setting down the drinks and forgoing asking how the meal was quickly slipping away in hopes of not bothering Ground Zero.

"Sweetheart I bet I could run my fingers through that sticky cunt and everyone in this restaurant would hear it." Bringing his thumb up to his mouth licking at it as one would to get sauce off their fingers, his eyes flutter and suddenly your cheeks burn.

"You're insufferable." You hiss, crossing your legs now, still unable to look at him.

"Ya know, I hate liars." He tosses your fake pair of underwear, pocketing the thong you wore with one hand while the other swirls his drink, "Ya've lied three times now."

"I have not."

"Ya have. Yer age, yer whole personality, yer underwear." He lists them on his fingers and funny enough you chose to die on only one of those hills.

"I am twenty five." You hiss, grabbing at your wine and downing it in three swallows.

"But yer not." He chuckles, eyes flicker to your face, you don't have foundation on, going for a mostly natural look, and Bakugou has good eyes where most men didn't, "Ya've got crows feet sweetheart. Seems like ya've smiled a lot in your life."

Reflexivity you go to hide the corner of your eyes, they crease heavily when you really smile. Everyone who knew you, actually knew you, always made the comment of "you smile with your eyes."

"Ah come on they're barely noticeable and nothin to be ashamed about." He chuckles, pulling at your wrists so he could see your face again, "Gimme a smile."

"Fuck off." You hiss waving him away dismissively trying to regain control, "The contract Mr Zero."

He sighs, annoyed as he leans back, "We haven't finished dinner."

"I'd like to skip to dessert." A snarling hiss as you push away what was probably the best meal you could've ever had.

"Oh would you?" Deadly smirk, "I could skip to dessert iffin ya want. In my car or the bathroom, your pick Princess."

"Again you're fucking insufferable." You make motion to stand, to leave, only for his strong hand to catch your wrist and pull you into his lap making this somehow worse.

"What's wrong? Embarrassed now?" He tilts your chin to him and you squeeze your eyes shut in defiance he chuckles lowly, "Tell me yer real age and I'll stop teasing, for now."

You open your eyes to glare at him for a long, long time. No judgment in those bromine eyes as he patiently waits for your answer. You sigh, scratching roughly at his undercut with your long nails whether it was a strategic move or your fingers having a mind of their own, you weren't sure. The only thing you were sure of was that this man was trouble.

Big trouble.

Yet you answer honestly anyway.

"Twenty nine." It's soft, genuinely this time as if you might be a little embarrassed about it when you know you shouldn't. He smiles up at you, letting his thumb linger at one of the corners of your eyes before he lets his fingers trace your face down to your jaw.

"See, won't so bad to admit it was it?" Genuine gentle tone, his hand on your hip squeezing at the fat there.

Your heart races and that foreboding feeling creeps up your throat as you're slowly realizing that you are no longer the one who was hunting.

No, no, now you were being hunted.

Nails bite harshly into his nape as you stand, snarl to your lips and all he can do is chuckle at your flippant attitude.

"M leaving." Holding out your manicured hand, "Give me my underwear back."

"No, I paid for it." He growls really spurring on your temper now.

"All you men are the same. Pigs who want to keep their dicks wet." A scoff as you snarl your pretty lips.

"And I can say all women are the same. Bitches who want to keep their pockets full." He retorts forcing your sharp claws to grab onto the cheeks of what you don't realize is the most powerful man in the entire country.

Even making sure your nails bite into the skin of his cheeks, "I don't need your fucking money."

"Then why're ya here sweetheart?" He smirks up at you, grabbing onto your wrist tightly.

"Fuck you. You don't know me." Shoving his face and escaping his tight grip before you begin to stomp from the restaurant with your head held high.

"You'll be crawling back to me, princess." He calls out with a chuckle.

"I won't!" You send a snarling growl back, unable to get through the too quiet dining room to the exit of the five star place.

Hissing through your teeth with an echoing groan as the night air hits you doing little to cool your temper while you hail a cab.

Pulling up the sugar baby app on your phone going to his profile to block him but before you can a message pops up.

GZ: See ya in two months sweetheart.

You'd never blocked a mark faster in your entire life.

But the thing you don't know about him yet is that Bakugou Katsuki always kept his promises.

A/N: yay! You've gotten to the end! Thank you so much for reading! Now I have plans to make this a series however I'm not very good at long term things if I'm being honest. Lmfao but please! If you liked or loved this reblog it! I'd love to hear in my inbox or in the body of the reblog or even in your tags of your reblog what you thought of this!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #sugar daddy bakugou #sugar baby reader #how the fuck do tags work anymore honestly 😂

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tia-222 · 5 months

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My void sucess story

HII TIA!!! I can barely contain my excitement as I type this but I got into the void and manifesting my dream life. You @gorgeouslypink and @charmedreincarnation are my absolutely favorite blogs, and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I think charm and pink are on break so I’m gonna send this to you I hope that’s okay.

Quick backstory: I’ve been in this community since the OGs, angel, Cleo, maya etc. I’ve seen all the dumb drama, the liars, the successful people, the exposing, and etc. I’m just sharing this because people think having bad experiences can hinder you from getting your desires and I’m here to remind you nope that it can’t. Nothing can. I had a phase where I would ugly cry trying to make sure all the success stories are true….I became a cop and started looking for inconsistencies on pages and liars to help me feel better. Which it didnt, It drove me mad, and I lost faith.

Until… I read pink’s doubt post which was God sent. Her entire page is God sent tbh and I recommend it to everyone. After I felt better and realized outside of tumblr people have gotten into the void, I decided I’m gonna be the next success story. So I went on your lovely page because I don’t think there isn’t a method you haven’t talked about.

You’re so educated and conduct amazing research on everything, we truly don’t deserve you Tia. Thank you for all your hard work. Anyways I was feeling good! I had so many methods to choose from, I felt like a fat kid at a candy store. And I decided my logical brain needed a logical method so I went with lucid dreaming.

This is where charm comes in. I read her lucid dreaming guide and it is literally also God sent so thank you so much for that. She had a method I had never heard of called SSILD, and even made a post about that as well… like I felt like the universe was handing me everything on a silver platter. And I saw another post that her and pink talked about using a reclining chair. So I combined SSILD with that method to make an ultimate one. And on the second day of trying I entered a lucid dream, asked a dream character to take me to the void and then manifested my dream life.

What I manifested: my dream house, dream family, dream body and face, dream amount of money, money always coming to my family and I’s bank account out of nowhere (but it’s natural and normal ) socialite Status, 25k insta followers (my lucky number) famous loyal dream athletics boyfriend (I was so scared this wouldn’t work but it did!), master manifesting abilities, dream college acceptance, (future) good self concept, a great fashion taste, never gaining weight, clear glass skin, revising my abusive past, and so much more. My list was like a whole ass essay, I obviously can’t list everything but my life is perfect now.

This was last week and I immediately booked a trip to LA with my family to look at the USC campus because that’s where I want to go and where I will go next fall, (I’m a senior). I was also looking at apartments around my school and I found my dream one so I’m manifesting no one leases it 🤭

Quick note: a lot of my desires were weird or I wanted them to manifest a specific way, or they weren’t realistic to happen immediately so I was afraid it wouldn’t work out the way I envisioned. Not only did everything work out the way I envisioned but it worked out even better and exactly how I would want them to apply to life but in a realistic way. So if that’s something you worry about don’t worry, you are God, and it will work out perfectly.

Anyways, I just wanted to share this because I failed for a while and everyone on this app was so supportive. Tumblr is genuinely like a little magical family so now everyone will see my succeed… though this on anon mode bc people have been attacking success stories lately. And honestly it doesn’t matter bc I just want to live my new spoiled life but I want to express my gratitude because my life was in shambles and you three helped me so much. So thank you again and I hope everyone who read this. No, I know everyone who reads this will get what they deserve.

HII LOVE!! WOW CONGRATULATIONS (⑅˶ᵔ ▿ ᵔ˶) ~♡

I'm very excited for you!!! And yes, void Tumblr has definitely changed rn and I feel there's many blogs on here that's good and no more liars. I'm so glad you gained faith back in the community and now you're living your dream life, love.

Aww pink and charm have the best posts on the void too <3.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink doubts post

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Charms lucid dreaming guide, SSILD method

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink recliner method

I LOVE YOUR MANIFESTATIONS AND EVERYTHING SOUNDS SO FUN OMGG!! LLYSM <33

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cherryobx · 3 months

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Hey!! I saw that you are taking requests (I also want to procrastinate studying, lol), so I thought I would request a Rafe oneshot where maybe he is helping his girlfriend move into her dorm and a bunch of frat guys start hitting on her and asking if she needs help and he gets all territorial and jealous? Just some cute fluff? Please and thank you, lovely!!!

Move-in day || R. C.

summary: Rafe helps you move in to your dorm but becomes territorial when a guy doesn't get the hint.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i'm not sure i like this one but bare with me i haven't written anything in more then a year so, thank you sm for the request!!! i love how all of you are supporting my procrastination and/or procrastinating yourself haha

warnings: some guy

You unlock the door, revealing your dorm room. It’s very basic and bland but you can’t wait to start decorating it to make it feel more like home and a safe space for you to relax in. There are two single beds on each side of the room. Also two closets and tables for you and your roommate who hadn’t moved in yet. Your roommate was assigned to you by the school since you didn’t have any friends or acquaintances that were also going to this college. You’d much rather share a room with someone you know but it is what it is.

You choose a side of the room and sit on the edge of your new bed, looking around the room and taking everything in. You can’t believe you’re actually here. After all the hard work and applying to many different colleges, you got into your dream school. You’d only dreamed about this place in your head and now you’re physically here.

You then leave the room and on your way outside you dial Rafe who dropped you off and then went to find a good parking spot near the housing.

“Yeah?” he answers the call.

“Where are you?”

He describes where he parked his car and directs you to him. You already see him from across the parking lot and give him a wave, which he returns with a big smile and a wave of his own.

The trunk of his car is popped open and he’s already stacking boxes into the carts provided by the school.

“How was it?” he asks as soon as you reach him, referring to the room.

“Pretty okay.” You shrug and grab a few bags from the back seat, slinging them over your shoulders. Then you manage to grab a box of your books as well. It’s heavy but the room is not that far away.

“Are you sure you can carry that much?” he calls after you.

“It’s rude to call your girlfriend weak, Rafe.”

“I’m not calling you weak!” he defends himself.

“Yeah, right,” you laugh. “Third floor, 5th door on the right.”

You leave him unloading the car in the parking lot while you make your way back to the building. On the way to the third floor, you bump into some guys on the staircase.

“Hey! Need any help with that?” one of them asks, hands already outstretched. Since your shoulders are already hurting because of the weight of the stuff you’re carrying, you accept his help. What were you thinking taking the stairs? The elevator was right there.

He takes the box from your hands and lets out a grunt. “Damn, that’s heavy! What’s in here?” he starts making his way up the stairs and you follow, adjusting the straps of the duffle bags on your shoulders. The dude’s friends follow you two, whispering something unintelligible behind your back but they’re too quiet to make out what they’re actually saying.

“My books.”

The guy chuckles and asks where your room is. You tell him and soon enough you reach the third floor. He pushes open the door leading to the third floor dorms and holds it open for you while you scramble past him to your door. You fish out the key from the pocket of your pants and open the door.

“You can just put it on the table.” I let the guy into my room while his friends linger in the doorway.

Thanking him, you throw the bags on your bed. He places the box gently on the table and then turns to you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You give him an awkward but polite smile, hoping he’d get the hint and leave now but he leans against the desk, crossing his arms on his chest instead. He looks like he’s not planning to go anywhere.

“You wanna come to a party tonight, Y/N? Bunch of upperclassmen are throwing a little party for the freshmen. You could be my date.”

You stare at him, eyes wide. “Uhmm, thank you for the invite but no. I have a lot to unpack and-”

“Oh come on!” he interrupts. “We could have fun and get to know each other. And drink.”

“No, thank you. I appreciate your help and all but I think you should go now.”

“Don’t be like that! You haven’t even given me a chance.”

“You will not get a chance either way. I have a boyfriend.”

“So? You’re in college now, let loose. He doesn’t have to know. ”

Meanwhile Rafe has finally made it to the third floor with the two carts full of your belongings. He pushes them out of the elevator and towards your room. Already from the elevator he can see two guys standing at your door, which he finds very suspicious. He faintly hears the conversation going on in your room and his blood starts to boil. When the two guys standing there notice him arriving, they scurry off and Rafe scoffs before entering your room.

“Know what?”

The guy leaning on your desk is startled and he stands up, not so cocky anymore. “Uhh…”

Rafe now stands between you and the guy whose name you don’t even know. He straightens his back and stares him down with that mean look he has but which he has never used on you. The other guy is obviously intimidated by him since Rafe is basically towering over his shorter frame.

“She said no. She has a boyfriend. So I suggest you leave before I punch you in the face so hard no girl will even look in your direction ever again,” Rafe growls.

“Whatever she’s not worth it anyways.” The guy shrugs and turns to leave. Rafe’s fists are clenched by his side and he looks like he’s about to strike when you place your hand on his back, making him look at you over his shoulder.

“Drop it.” Rafe takes a deep breath and you feel his shoulders relax under your touch.

The guy lets out a scoff as he leaves but Rafe’s eyes remain on you. “Are you okay?” he asks, worry laced in his voice as he turns to face you, hands now on your shoulders.

“I’m fine. He just helped me with my books and he got the wrong idea.”

“A very wrong one at that. I was so close to punching him in his stupid face for even talking to you in the first place.”

You place your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under your palm. “You can’t stop every guy from talking to me. You’re not even here most of the time.”

“Watch me.”

“Rafe.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious. But he was a jerk anyway. I go for non-jerk guys.” Your lips are turned into a slight smirk.

“Do you now?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I not a jerk?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“Oh, you definitely are, but just not to me.”

“I’d never be a jerk to you. You know that, baby. But you’re mine. I can’t stand the thought of guys like him talking to you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I know but I can handle myself.”

“I know you do.” But the next time he visits, he hands you a little box which contains a necklace with his name so everyone knows you’re taken.

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #obx #request

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bro-atz · 8 months

Text

persistent desire

in which: you and your childhood friends go drinking, and seonghwa confesses that he has at some point been attracted to you

pair: seonghwa/afab!reader

word count: 6k

content: smut, college!au, friends to ???, bedroom sex, insatiable!seonghwa, completely consensual!

apply for the permanent taglist here!

You laid there on your bed, your mind completely numb. You didn’t know how much time had passed for you dissociate this bad, but all you knew was that it was dark outside when you started, and now the sunrise was painting the apartment in shades of red and orange. You could hear him breathing hard, and you looked to see that he was still not satisfied. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pressed together, but his hold on you was weak. That being said, he still had the energy and desperation to keep going.

It started that morning. Well, technically, it started years ago— like back in middle school years ago— but the trigger was that morning. The four of you were at the popular coffee shop on campus studying: you, Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung. You all had your laptops in front of you and were typing away.

“I don’t like this assignment,” Wooyoung complained loudly.

“Why’d you even bother taking that class? It’s not even required for our major,” Seonghwa asked while rolling his eyes.

“I needed one more class and this was the only one that had space that fit in my schedule! If I don’t have a full load of courses, then my status becomes part-time, and I need to be a full-time student if I want to keep my scholarship.”

“How much is the scholarship?” San asked.

“Seventy-five percent of my current tuition.”

“Oof… Well, you still have to suffer through the assignment since you did choose the class in the first place,” you gave Wooyoung some much needed tough love.

With a huge, dramatic sigh, Wooyoung got back to his assignment. Periodically, Seonghwa leaned over your shoulder to look at what you were doing— the two of you were in the same class, so you both had the same assignment— and he did one of two things each time: either his shoulder rubbed against yours, or his knee would. He always did it to piss you off, and it was kind of working right now. By the fifth time he did that, you kicked his chair away, earning a laugh from him.

“Dude, knock it off! You can’t even cheat on this assignment!” you said with mild annoyance as you continued to push him away.

“I totally can, I just need to paraphrase,” he argued back with a light tone.

“You were assigned a different section! What do you mean?!”

That was how your friendship went. From the moment the two of you met in middle school, then when you added San and Wooyoung to your little friend group in high school, life barely changed— it only got more complex. The classes got harder, the homework heavier, and the relationships more serious. Well, it was mostly Wooyoung who was dating, but Seonghwa would bring a crazy bitch around every so often. San went on the occasional date, but you didn’t have the hint of a romantic life. Not a single guy ever looked at you. You wondered if it was because you spent a lot of time with three ridiculously attractive boys— that was the only logical explanation, after all.

“Alright, so what’s the plan for tonight?” Wooyoung asked after triumphantly closing his laptop.

“I’m free, as per usual,” you said.

“Same,” San added.

“Alright, that leaves you, Seonghwa.”

“I’m good, too,” Seonghwa nodded.

“You broke up with that crazy bitch?” Wooyoung asked with mild shock.

“We weren’t ever really dating, were we?”

“What do you mean? Of course you were,” San said with confusion.

“I would hardly consider three dates “dating”. Besides, we never even slept together.”

“Wow, she broke up with you, didn’t she?” you bit back a loud laugh.

“No, I broke up with her.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Romeo,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he responded sarcastically.

“I’m serious!”

The four of you packed up your things and left the coffee shop, Seonghwa still trying to convince you all that he did, in fact, break up with that last girl.

Since the four of you were free that evening, you all went to participate in Wooyoung’s favorite activity: drinking. And, of course, with drinking with Wooyoung game drinking games.

The local bar knew the four of you very well by that point in your lives. Sometimes, the bartenders would participate in the drinking games with you, but it was usually the four of you in a secluded booth with a whole bottle of house whiskey and beers aplenty. You sat across from Wooyoung and next to Seonghwa while San sat next to Wooyoung. You and Wooyoung had to take care of the other two boys since they were bad at holding their alcohol, so you each took turns babysitting the other boy.

“Alright, what game are we playing tonight?” Wooyoung clapped his hands together and rubbed them in anticipation.

“King’s Cup?” you suggested.

“Absolutely the fuck not. Not after what this asshole pulled last time,” San declined and pointed an accusatory finger at Wooyoung.

“What’d I do?!”

“You rigged the game! I kept pulling the last fucking king!”

“Oh, right. I did that,” Wooyoung accepted with a giggle.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Titanic?” Seonghwa offered.

“No way,” you refused.

“Why?”

“Last time we played that, Wooyoung threw up all over my favorite pair of shoes,” you grimaced.

“If I promise not to do that again, will you let us play?” Wooyoung asked.

“No, I don’t trust you.”

Pouting, Wooyoung turned away. The rest of you chose to ignore his antics.

“Truth or dare?” San asked.

“But instead of dare, we drink,” Wooyoung amended.

“Alright, I’m game,” you accepted.

“Same,” Seonghwa nodded.

The game started very tame— well, Wooyoung was asking the wildest questions, getting San and Seonghwa drunk in record time. At some point, you had enough of his dumb questions and told him to actually play the game properly because you wanted to actually hear some hot gossip.

“San, when was the last time you had sex?” Wooyoung asked San.

San took a drink.

“Come on, bro. There’s no shame in telling us when,” Wooyoung nudged San’s shoulder.

“It’s been so long that I don’t even remember when,” San admitted.

“You could’ve just said that and not have to drink,” you pointed out.

“…Fuck.”

“Alright, let’s not ask this kid anymore questions,” you told Wooyoung.

Seonghwa, meanwhile, was silent. He was pretty tipsy, but not drunk. He usually observed his friends whenever he got drunk, but if someone talked directly to him, then he would respond. You always got a kick out of watching drunk Seonghwa.

“Seonghwa,” San turned to the man in question.

“Yes?” Seonghwa responded while slightly swaying to and fro.

“Have you ever been attracted to Y/N?”

“Yes.”

You, San, and Wooyoung were all shocked. You stared Seonghwa down as he continued to sway, but he definitely was not looking at you. San, unable to ask another question because he was completely and utterly shocked, froze, leaving Wooyoung to ask the next one.

“When?”

Seonghwa decided to drink instead of answer that question.

You don’t remember what happened the rest of the game— you dissociated so hard that you wondered if you blacked out because of the alcohol. However, it was not the alcohol that fucked you up; it was Seonghwa who did.

You didn’t even realize that San and Wooyoung left for the night. You only snapped out of your trance when Seonghwa leaned his head on your shoulder. You looked to see that he had his eyes closed and he let out a heavy sigh. Your shock turned into annoyance— if Seonghwa actually fell asleep on shoulder, you were going to murder him. Luckily, Seonghwa was not asleep.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Seonghwa asked, his head still on your shoulder.

“Uh… Uh-huh,” you responded, unable to find words to properly convey exactly what was going through your mind.

“You don’t sound okay.”

“…I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Seonghwa lifted his head, giving you the chance to look at him with complete and utter disbelief. You wanted to tell him off for being a hypocrite, but he didn’t do anything wrong. He just played the game, and he played the game honestly. That wasn’t his fault, but you wanted to blame him for being a good sport.

But, Seonghwa could have also been lying for the sake of the game just to spice things up. He was a very giggly drunk, but he’s mentally aware of everything and has full control over his actions even when drunk out of his mind. He could have been messing with the group. You hoped he was messing with the group because there was no way in hell your best friend from back in middle school was attracted to you at any point in time.

“First, I need you tell me something,” you finally responded.

“Yeah?”

“Were you being serious earlier, or were you messing with us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you actually been attracted to me, or was that a lie?” you rephrased.

“I have been attracted to you.”

“When?”

Seonghwa took a sip of his beer— apparently the game was still going for him.

“Fine, then why?” you asked, exasperated.

“Go take a look in the mirror then get back to me.”

You felt your face get hot instantly. A drunk Seonghwa was shameless, but not once did you think his shamelessness was going to come your way. He took another nonchalant sip of his beer, and you decided to take another look at his face. His face was flushed, and his eyes were narrowed, but this wasn’t Seonghwa’s usual drunk self. Something was off, something that made butterflies storm through your body. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his confession, though.

“You’re seriously messing with me now, aren’t you?” you let out a weak laugh.

“Y/N, look at me,” Seonghwa said, his voice dropping down several decibels.

You did as he said, and a wave of heat rushed from your head to your toes. Seonghwa’s eyes were dark and filled with lust. He ran his tongue over his lower lip subtly, turning you on more than it should’ve. He leaned towards you ever so slightly, his hand holding onto the back of your chair. You nearly leaned back, but this was Seonghwa you’re talking about— he would never do anything to you, or anyone for that matter, without consent. You held your ground, Seonghwa’s face nearing yours.

“Do you think I’m joking now?” Seonghwa asked you softly.

“I believe you, but I also believe that you’re going insane.”

You pushed your chair away from the table and stood up, Seonghwa’s eyes following you as you did so. You grabbed your purse and stood there, Seonghwa still sitting.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Waiting for you,” you responded. “You’re losing your goddamn mind, Seonghwa. We need to get you home.”

With a shrug, Seonghwa stood up. You genuinely thought he was going to stumble around based on how drunk you thought he was, but he carried himself well— so well, in fact, that he looked sober.

You left the bar first, and Seonghwa followed shortly thereafter. The two of you walked silently and side by side as you made your way back to your apartment complex.

“I think we should drop you off at home, first,” you told the man.

“No, I want to make sure you get home safe,” he denied.

“You drank a lot more than I did tonight.”

“Then, if you walk me home, will you stay the night?”

Another rush of heat. You looked away from him abruptly and at the dim sidewalk in front of you. You shook your head lightly; although it was Seonghwa who was saying those things to you, you didn’t feel like it was. Something was up with your friend, and it was making you nervous.

“That’s what I thought. Let me walk you home.”

The rest of the walk back was silent. You could barely think about anything without the sound of your heart beating loudly drowning out any thoughts you had left in your head.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa called your name, startling you.

“Yeah! Yeah?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while, now. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you said, which was the truth.

“Well, we’re here. Will you be okay getting up to your room?”

“Yes, but I seriously wonder if you’ll get home safe,” you said honestly.

“I’ll call a cab or something,” he assured you.

You nodded. You looked down at your feet, realizing that you were unable to leave. You usually just waved good-bye and fully left, or other times, Seonghwa would crash at your place. This time, however, was different. Your legs were frozen. You didn’t know why.

“Y/N? Are you going to go up?”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Good night, Hwa.”

Usually, after you guys hung out, he would hug you goodbye, and he did that this time, too. Before you could even take a step away, Seonghwa held your arm gently and turned you around, his arms outstretched and waiting expectantly for a hug. You hugged him. It wasn’t like he forced you to, but you felt so weird about just ignoring the fact that your friend of many, many years was asking for a hug as he usually did. This is silly, you thought to yourself. It was just a game, and Seonghwa’s just being a stupid flirt. He wasn’t being serious, so why were you taking him so seriously?

The hug lasted longer than you were expecting. You thought it was going to be a light hug and then bye. However, Seonghwa’s secure arms held you tightly and close. Even the way he was hugging you this time was different. It was a lot more sensual. He wrapped one arm around your waist and then the other over your shoulder, his face buried in the nook of your neck. You felt like your entire body was going to erupt into flames at that point.

When Seonghwa leaned away from you, he was still hugging you. Likewise, you were still hugging him. You gazed into his dark, lust filled eyes once again. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Seonghwa, I’m going to ask you one more time,” you whispered. “Have you really been attracted to me?”

“Y/N, I don’t know how many times you want me to tell you, but yes. I have.”

“Are you attracted to me right now?”

“That’s not fair. You can’t ask that kind of question without letting me have the option of drinking,” Seonghwa frowned.

“But are you?” you pressed further.

Seonghwa pulled you closer into his embrace. He still wouldn’t say anything, which was ticking you off.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Seonghwa asked with a deep sigh.

“I want you to state it explicitly before I say or do anything else.”

“Y/N…”

“Last chance, Seonghwa,” you warned him. “Are you attracted to me right now?”

“Yes.”

Your impulse took over. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and held onto the back of his neck to pull him to you, your lips connecting. You felt his hold on you get tighter as he kissed you back again and again and again. He let out tiny, muffled grunts with every kiss.

You felt like he was eating you alive. His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth. His hands slipped down to your waist, his fingers pressing into you firmly. You yelped as you felt his teeth bite your lower lip lightly and tug upwards, making your libido scream for him to just ravage you.

Next thing you knew, Seonghwa was pulling you into your own apartment. He dragged you roughly to your bed and tossed you on there, the bed springs squeaking as you bounced on the mattress.

“Seong—”

He wouldn’t even allow you to say his name. His lips roughly met yours once more as he pinned you to the bed.

The way he was treating you in bed made you think of two things: one, he was so hot when he was unnecessarily aggressive; and two, why did he suddenly get to this point? You knew that the two of you were horny as fuck for each other in that moment, but the way he was acting was out of desperation, not lust.

You were only able to finally get words out when Seonghwa stopped kissing you to start stripping.

“Seonghwa, before you start again, I have more questions,” you sat up and held your hand out to stop him from pinning you to the bed again.

A look of frustration crossed Seonghwa’s face as he pulled off his shirt. But, nonetheless, he waited for you to ask your questions.

“Why are you acting like this?”

Seonghwa let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair (which turned you even more since he looked so hot when he was annoyed or frustrated). He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips and asked mockingly, “What do you want me to say? That I’m hot for you? That I’m horny? That I really need my dick inside you?”

“Seonghwa, please be serious…”

Silently, Seonghwa got on the bed and pinned you down once again. His lips neared your ear, his soft breath sending shivers down your neck. His hands held your wrists down, and his knees trapped your waist.

“Y/N, I don’t know how else to show you I’m serious. I wouldn’t be in bed with you like this right now if I wasn’t interested in you.”

“But,” you breathed out. “You’re… Attracted to me? Of all people, me?”

“Y/N,” Seonghwa said softly as he pressed his lips against your ear gently. “You’re sexy and gorgeous and captivating.”

He trailed his lips down the side of your neck, his fingers pulling your shirt off your shoulder. You suppressed a moan when his other hand held both your wrists above your head, his tongue returning to your neck and trailing upwards.

“You like me?”

“Of course I like you,” Seonghwa replied softly into your neck.

“Romantically?”

Seonghwa stopped. He moved away from you enough where he could make eye contact with you, but his chest was still pressed against yours. He opened his mouth and said something, but you couldn’t hear him at all despite the fact that he was mere centimeters away from you.

“What— Oh my God!”

It was physically impossible for you to ask him questions after that. He quickly pulled down the waistband of your pants and panties and shoved his middle two fingers into you with so much force that your entire body jerked. He let go of your wrists to caress your face, his warm fingertips practically burning a hole into the skin on your cheek while his lips made yours feel raw with his intense kisses. His fingers kept thrusting into you roughly with no remorse, tears slipping out of your eyes as his forcefulness drove you to euphoria. You cried out when he added a third finger, instantly making you cum.

No matter how much you whimpered and tried to grab his wrists in a feeble attempt to get him to let up, Seonghwa continued to finger you over and over again, another orgasm overcoming you mere seconds after the first one. Tears slipped out of your eyes one after the other, your body trembling as he finally removed his fingers from you fully, only for him to move down on you. He held onto the bottoms of your thighs and pushed them upwards, giving him more access to your completely sopping wet pussy. You thought he was going to go right for the jackpot, but instead he left painful hickeys along the insides of your thighs, his tongue trailing along to each new spot on your thighs until he finally arrived at your pussy.

Seonghwa’s tongue violating your pussy was a completely different kind of pleasure than when his tongue was violating your mouth. Seonghwa was truly a master of utilizing his tongue for pleasure. When his tongue licked upwards and pressed through your pussy’s lips so that he was in the most literal sense tongue-fucking you, a surge of pleasure swept through your body. You raked your fingers through his hair and held onto the roots of his hair for dear life as you felt yet another orgasm come your way.

Proper words evaded you as you came right in Seonghwa’s mouth, and hearing him slurp your pussy up right after made all sorts of thoughts fly through your pleasure-ridden brain swimming in pheromones. You moaned loudly and flung your head back into your pillow as his tongue flicked your clit wildly before toying with it and drawing circles around it. Even more tears slipped out of your eyes the longer it took for this— what was it, fourth?— orgasm to hit you. You let out the most erotic cry when Seonghwa sucked hard on your clit and inserted two fingers into your cunt, and when Seonghwa curled his fingers inside you, that was when you came once more.

As you laid in what you could only describe as a puddle of yourself, Seonghwa moved away from you to take off his pants and grab a condom from your nightstand.

“Seonghwa,” you said his name quietly, your voice wavering as you were afraid that he would overtake you if you tried to speak again.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa responded after he rolled the condom on.

You didn’t even know what you wanted to say to him. Your brain was still swimming, and the only word you could think to say was his name. “Seonghwa,” you repeated.

Seonghwa understood at that point. He moved towards you so that he was kneeling right in between your legs, his penis resting on the bottom of your stomach. Maybe it was because you had tears in your eyes, but it looked like Seonghwa had a weapon of mass destruction.

At first, Seonghwa reached out to your face to wipe your tears, but he stopped— why bother wiping the tears from your eyes if you were just going to have them water up again? So, eyes bleary, you watched as he positioned himself at your entrance. He leaned forward and pressed his lips into the nook of your neck, the tip of his dick barely inside you.

He didn’t really warn you after that. He fully thrusted into your extremely wet pussy, his cock moving in with ease and filling you up entirely— but, because you were incredibly wet, his waist slammed into yours. You choked out a cry. Your hands immediately went to his shoulders and clutched so hard that your nails left tiny crescents in his skin. You didn’t even have the chance to relax your hold on him. He was coming at you with full force, his tempo not changing in the slightest.

“Hnn— Hwa!” you moaned as he continued to slam his dick inside you without letting up. “S-slower! Please!”

“Sorry, Y/N, I seriously can’t stop,” Seonghwa grunted.

He held your waist and pulled you up slightly, making it easier for him to thrust even harder into you. Your hands slipped from his shoulders, causing you to reach for his arms for support instead. You got a good look at his face and saw his eyes darken as the blush on his face reddened. His breathing got rougher, and right before he came, he bit his lower lip and slammed into you one last time. The look on his face was enough to make you cum as well. Seonghwa groaned in pleasure while you cried his name out again. His hold on you relaxed as he pulled out of you. The two of you were panting hard as Seonghwa moved away from you and got off the bed to remove his filled condom.

You thought he would be done. He released a huge load into that condom, so you genuinely thought that he was done for the night. He was far from done, apparently. The second you heard him rip open another condom pack, you froze and looked at him nervously.

“Seonghwa…?” you asked with a shaky voice as you felt the bed dip when he got back on it.

“Y/N, turn around,” Seonghwa said in response.

With his assistance, you turned so that you were on your knees, your hands propping you up. You knew exactly what was coming your way, and although you knew and tried to prepare, you still were completely shocked when Seonghwa thrusted his penis into you with the same immense force as before. You cried out as you felt his hands hold onto your ass cheeks tightly, his fingernails lightly digging into your skin. Despite the fact that you were on your knees, your arms felt like they were ready to give. You went down to your elbows, raising your ass slightly, earning you a pleasant groan from the man pleasuring you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Seonghwa bit out before letting out a louder groan, his dick trembling inside of you.

You were weak. You were only able to sit up and kneel on the bed when Seonghwa helped you sit up, his hand on your breast. From behind, he massaged your breast and nibbled on the skin on your neck lightly, your entire body immediately reacting by purring in delight. He let out a deep exhale right next to your ear, making your body tremble even more.

“You’re driving me crazy… How are you so sexy?” Seonghwa asked quietly, unaware that you heard him.

Still not allowing you more than a minute to recover, Seonghwa turned your face and kissed you passionately. His thumb caressed your cheek and went past your ear, heat immediately rushing to your ear. You were so drawn into his sweet kiss and your tongue dancing with his that you didn’t even realize that he had moved you so that he was laying on the bed with your knees trapping his waist. It was only when he broke off the kiss and pushed your shoulders away from him that you realized what he wanted from you.

“Wait,” Seonghwa whispered, his fingers fumbling behind you as he replaced his condom. Once he was ready, he then said, “Okay. Get on.”

You sat up slightly, allowing Seonghwa to position himself before sitting down slowly. You muffled a moan, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as you leaned your head back. You felt like his dick shot all the way through you despite the fact that you took your time sitting down. His dick throbbed painfully inside you as you timidly began to move. You gripped his shoulders tightly as you bounced up and down, the sound of your waist hitting his along with your erratic moans and gasps echoing in the room.

“Seonghwa, I can’t,” you whimpered as you felt your hands begin to slip. “My thighs are trembling…”

Without a word, Seonghwa held your hands and pulled you towards him, guiding you so that your chest was pressed against his. He then moved his hands to your ass and assisted you while simultaneously forcing his hips upwards, making your whole body lurch. His lips then connected with yours, overwhelming your brain to the point where your body lost self control. You couldn’t even make the effort to cum properly by moving away from his dick, so the pleasure and satisfaction of your orgasm just got greater from there.

He then flipped you so that you were laying down on the bed once more. He got off the bed and held your legs tightly, guiding them upwards as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You clutched the bedsheets below you tightly when he rested your legs against his shoulders. Without a second to waste, he slid his dick inside you once again.

Seonghwa held your waist tightly while he continued to thrust at a steady rate, but once he moved his hands down to your ass, he got much faster within seconds. You crossed your legs behind his head as you tried to suppress another significant wave of pleasure, which ended up really turning Seonghwa on.

“You got so tight… Shit, Y/N,” Seonghwa cursed.

You unconsciously bucked your hips upwards when his hands spread your ass cheeks wide. With a sharp inhale, Seonghwa slammed his waist into you, and you felt his cum fill up the condom and warm you up even more.

Seonghwa had cum three times at that point. You thought for sure that he would be done by now, that his balls would be completely drained, but you were wrong and more wrong. Seonghwa could still go.

You looked to the side to see filled condoms piled to the top of the trashcan in your room. You didn’t even realize you had so many condoms in your home in the first place, making you wonder if Seonghwa would stop if you ran out of condoms— but Seonghwa was insatiable, apparently, because he just kept going and going, profanities leaving his lips exponentially.

With a grunt of frustration, Seonghwa pulled out and moved your waist, both of your feet resting on the bed as he propped your knees up. He completely took you by surprise when he lifted your waist up, allowing him to fuck you from a different angle. You felt the tip of his dick glide past your g-spot, your eyes flying open as he repeated the action over and over and over again. You ran your fingers through your hair and cried loudly as your fluid shot out of your body when Seonghwa pulled out suddenly.

Seonghwa’s thighs and torso were covered with your slick. Through bleary eyes, you saw the ghost of a smirk appear on his face, making your brain melt all over again. You closed your eyes and pushed your head back into the bed as you regained your breath and calmed your racing heart. Seonghwa pinned his arms on either side of you as he bent down to leave you with another one of his mind-numbingly amazing kisses. The sounds of your wet kisses reverberated through the room. Seonghwa caressed your face gently as he kissed you over and over again as if he just couldn’t get enough of you.

That was when you were finally able to form a singular thought and vocalize it to him.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered as he released you from his kissing bind, your eyes barely maintaining contact with his.

Seonghwa hummed.

“I like you.”

You watched Seonghwa freeze. He looked right into your eyes and stared at you, his face completely red. He wrapped his arms around your body and hugged you, his lips brushing past your collarbone and neck.

“Say that again,” he whispered in your ear.

“I like you.”

Seonghwa sat up. His hands guided your waist so that you, too, were sitting up. He sat you right in between his legs and hugged your waist, his intense gaze making it near impossible to maintain eye contact with him. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he leaned closer to you. His soft breaths tickled your chest, making you want to squirm in his embrace.

“How? In what way?”

“In a way that I want to see what a relationship with you would look like.”

“So, romantically?”

At first, you wanted to say no, because that definitely wasn’t the feeling you had; but, when he held you even closer and nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, you felt butterflies swarm through you and couldn’t help but cling to him, your hands holding his shoulders tightly.

“I think it could get there,” you murmured.

You felt Seonghwa’s lips against your skin, his mouth pulling into a smile. He left small smooches all over your shoulder, neck, and face, making your body flush to a slightly darker red. His hands went from your waist to your ass, lifting you up a tiny bit off the bed— he wanted to be inside you again. Again. You adjusted yourself and went from holding his shoulders to pressing the palms of your hands on the bed and behind you. He moved forward, his cock sliding right into you. You both rocked your hips in and out of each other, his dick hitting deep inside you.

The feeling of his cock reaching so far inside you was enough to make you cum. Seonghwa, too, apparently; he slammed his hips into you with one final, powerful stroke before the two of you came at the same time, the two of you calling the other’s name in the same moment.

The sun was fully up in the sky by the time Seonghwa’s dick finally calmed down. You were using his arm as a pillow as the two of you laid in your bed. You wrapped your arm around his torso and gave him a light hug, prompting him to rest his head on top of yours.

“You’re insatiable, Seonghwa,” you broke the silence between you two. “Are you always like this?”

“No.”

“So what changed for you to be like this?”

“I’ve been holding back for a long time Y/N.”

“How long?”

“Eighth grade.” You gasped and looked up at him in shock as he continued, “To be honest, I thought it was just some sort of small school crush and that it would disappear over time, but the crush kind of stayed buried until last night.”

“So, if you’ve liked me since then, why did you beat around the bush so hard last night?”

“I wasn’t sure if you felt or would ever feel the same way about me,” Seonghwa admitted honestly. “It’s always nice to hear that someone’s attracted to you, so I wanted to leave it at that in case you definitely didn’t feel anything for me.”

You nodded in understanding and cuddled closer to him, your eyes briefly closing before a sudden thought came into your head.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked him quietly.

Seonghwa merely nodded.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t say anything through middle and high school.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you pre-puberty was just not it,” you couldn’t help but giggle. “I would’ve rejected you in the eighth grade so fast.”

“How dare you!” Seonghwa feigned injury.

His arms instantly hugged you tightly, and he lowered himself so that he could sink his teeth lightly into the skin on your neck. You let out a little yelp as he pushed his body towards yours and slightly weighing you down as his lips neared your ear.

“I’m going to make you regret telling me that,” he whispered ominously.

You were about to retort when you felt his erect dick press against your stomach. You wondered if Seonghwa was even going to let you sleep at all that day— but you already knew the answer: no.

#park seonghwa #seonghwa smut #ateez #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa ateez #seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa #broatz

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monzabee · 1 year

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you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16

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Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all.

Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely.

Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain.

The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September.

“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”

“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–”

“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”

“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!”

He shrugs. “So?”

“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.”

You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.”

He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?”

You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student.

You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee.

“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster.

“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair.

You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!”

He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time.

“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.”

True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid.

“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.”

“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.”

“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?”

You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day.

“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape.

Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot.

You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.”

“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.”

“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.”

He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue.

His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.”

You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument.

Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.”

So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements.

“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.”

“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue.

“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips.

You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”

You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend.

The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year.

You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.”

While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.”

“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather.

“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.”

And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better.

It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light.

“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.”

He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”

One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh.

When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?”

“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen.

“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room.

You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder.

The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you.

“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice.

“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?”

“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother.

You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.”

Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.”

“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders.

His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”

“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well.

“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes.

He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.”

“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.”

“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you.

“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off.

“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”

Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.”

Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!”

You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.”

His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”

“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say��goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”

“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?”

“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!”

“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?”

“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.”

“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest.

Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things.

“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on.

“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes.

Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.”

You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”

After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time.

The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps.

“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.”

Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself.

A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying, while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie.

You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.”

He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.”

So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair.

“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.

He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind.

“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.

“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter.

A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice.

“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out.

He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?”

“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off.

“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.”

“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.”

There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”

“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”

“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?”

You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.”

“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.”

You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.”

He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips.

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.”

You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.”

“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout.

“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke.

You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.”

You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”

“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.”

“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.”

He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.”

“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused.

He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.”

“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“Now in French?”

“Je t'aime.”

“In Italian?”

“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.”

“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

“What?” He asks in horror.

“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”

“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide.

You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home.

#monzabee #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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starrvsn · 3 months

Text

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ HEART AND MIND.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

READ PART TWO HERE !

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

WORD COUNT ⠆1,064

CATEGORIES ⠆angsty, minor fluff, comfort, long-distance-relationship!au, roger and bobby being nosy, will there be a second fic of a reunion..? who knows, maybe :p. (i'm not super sure how old they are but lets just assume they're 20.)

𝟒𝟏𝟏. roger and bobby are nosy and want to know where he got all his fancy jewelry from.

don was a private man, he kept things to himself and only choose some aspects of his life to be known. however, now that he has people in his corner he could trust, he was more willing to share. one of those things being his love life, they never asked so he never said anything; even when they would tease about him not being able to talk to girls. not knowing his heart was taken. it was late and the boys were relaxing in their dorm when roger spoke his thoughts:

“y’know, i always wondered where you got your ring and bracelet from.” roger points at the two pieces of jewelry on dons bedside from his bed across dons, his tone curious and lighthearted.

“oh well-“ don starts, he didn’t expect such a comment but it wasn’t unwelcome. “it’s okay don you don’t have to tell us.” bobby interjects, giving roger a pointed look from his desk seat. he knows how private don could be and didn’t want roger overstepping to not make it awkward.

“oh no, it’s okay.” don assures, waving a dismissive hand. “my bracelet and ring are my girlfriend.” he responded, a smile playing on his lips at the thought of you– a new piece of his life being uncovered, there probably wasn’t going to be a right time to mention it so he guesses that time was now. don didn’t think it was too much of a big deal but he didn’t want to tell anyone for your sake and the teasing he would get if he told them in a group setting. the two boys nod in understanding.

“she gifted me the bracelet on my birthday” don continues, his eyes fixated on the chain sitting on his bedside. his friends paying close attention to his words

it was a simple gesture, nothing to extravagant– he told you once that he hadn’t gotten a gift for his birthday since he was a child so for his 18th birthday you got him a bracelet, a simple chunky silver chain. you had saved up your allowance to buy it for him, you were nervous that he wouldn’t like it. but you couldn’t have been more wrong, he love it! in fact he didn’t want to except it at first, such a fine piece of jewelry. he felt bad because he never gave you gift as grand as this. he wore it everyday since you gifted it to him, even making the effort to upkeep it when a piece broke or the clasp was faulty.

“and my ring she gave before she left.” silence falls, roger and bobby unsure what to say. bobby and roger exchange glances, both thinking the same thing, they weren’t sure what he meant by left, if you had passed or moved away. don senses the hesitance in the air and immediately adds “she moved for college, she goes to cal.” their faces softening at his words. you going to one of their biggest rival schools in rowing, don wasn’t affected as much by the thought of it but he could tell his friends, who were probably having a frenzy of thoughts, mostly on the fact you went to a rivaling school.

you leaving was bittersweet. he was happy that you were going to the school of your dreams but the fact you’d be so far from him made his heart sink. he remembers so vividly when it happened, you gotten into an argument about the school’s you applied to— his emotions got the better of him and he made an offhanded comment about it being better off broken up if you decided to go to a school that far. which lead into a whole heated argument on if he even trusted you, it got so out of hand you left without saying another word to him, then when you were accepted into cal you told him. it was your dream school and there wasn’t anything that was going to stop you from going… don included. you found out your acceptance two days after your argument. you went to see him after receiving the news. he knew he couldn’t lose you apart of his life and you being so far without him was going to be a tough pill to swallow but you promised each other you’d make it work. the day you were set to leave you surprised with with a gold ring with your initial engraved on it telling him “something to remember me by” and he has a surprise of his own, out from his pocket a small box with a locket inside, heart shaped with a photo of the two of you. you broke down in tears at the sight of it— he remembers it so fondly, the good and the bad of it all.

“when was the last time you saw her?” roger blurted, asking before he could even realized what he said. they raise concerning glares, unsure if they overstepped. they knew just because don confined in them doesn’t mean they could ask whatever and it would be okay.

“uh probably a year, maybe more— we write to each other ever so often. i actually just sent off my letter to her few days ago.” don hummed, it was nice to talk about you— he’s kept you in his thoughts for so long that if they asked anything about you he could talk all night.

“what did you put in the letter— if you don’t mind me asking.”

“well i just wrote about trying out for the team and that i made it.” he didn’t include that he told you how much he missed you and responses to some things you said in your letter. a comfortable silence falls over them, bobby and roger taking in the new information about you and don lost in thought about his memories with you. they boys also wondered what you looked like, trying hard to imagine the girl that captured their strokes heart.

“you think she’ll be at the race against cal next week?”

he would love to see you again, don knew how busy you were with school and as much as he think you would, how he wishes you would. be in your arms again but it probably wasn’t possible, though the thought was nice— falling asleep with you in his dreams, like you are every night.

read part two here !

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#i probably will be writing a reunion fic even if no one asks for it LOL #(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠) the boys in the boat #don hume imagines #don hume #don hume x reader #the boys in the boat imagines #the boys in the boat fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #jack mulhern #don hume fanfiction

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daysofyellowroses · 2 months

Text

yellow rose

david von erich x afab!reader | 6.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, smoking, mild smut | a reflection on your journey to the altar

so this is a complete and utter work of fiction, based on the very brilliant movie the iron claw. i knew as soon as i watched it i would have stories but i was a little surprised david came to me first. obviously harris dickinson is beautiful but i am down so bad for jaw. i got some kerry ideas too, and i always have a hundred different bear ideas on the go too so more to come | also just to note that because this is totally fictitious, i am choosing to ignore real life events for the most part and live in fanfic delusion. enjoy 🌼

It all seemed to happen in a flash.

In theory, you should have been used to it. Ready for it.

One minute you were heading to a local sports center on a work assignment, then in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were walking up the aisle to marry the subject of one of those photos.

But, to get to how exactly you ended up walking down that aisle, you need to go back to how it all started.

Which, like with most things when it came to you,started with a picture.

📷

From an early age, you loved photography. Capturing a moment in time, being able to look at it any time and relive the moment was always a thrill. Your childhood home was full of framed photos and photo albums, a collection of memories surrounding you.

When you turned 13, your parents gave you your own camera. It wasn't anything too technical or fancy, but it was immediately your most treasured possession. You took photos of everything, family occasions, your friends hanging out, nature, snapshots of Dallas.

As you grew older you threw yourself into studying everything about photography, worked an extremely tedious part time job to save up for a real camera, dedicated yourself to honing your skills. It wasn't difficult, your friends and family kept you busy with birthday parties, weddings, christenings, anything worth celebrating and you were there to capture the moments.

When you were in your senior year of high school, you discovered a fondness for a particular subject of your photos. You had been sitting in the bleachers after school one day with your friends, all you of chatting and laughing about something when you'd looked onto the football field and spotted two of the players talking about something animatedly, one of them slapping the other on the back as they laughed.

You had grabbed your camera, snapping a photo and rolled your eyes playfully as your friends teased you. Sure, the players were cute, but that wasn't why you took their photo. When the shots had developed, you were thrilled that your instinct had been correct. The red of the players jerseys popped, the gold star on their helmets gleaming in the sun. They looked graceful, despite their large frames, natural and charming.

From that photo, you began to base more of your photos on sport. It wasn't an area you had expected to become interested in, but it inspired your photography. Cheerleaders in perfectly formed pyramids, track stars crossing the line, football players clutching the ball to their chest as they threw themselves across the post.

After graduation, you applied for a journalism course, figuring it didn't hurt to have a backup plan and maybe it would get you a gig as a photographer for a newspaper or magazine.

Leaving home was tough, especially when a big going away party was thrown for you, your friends and family coming together to celebrate your accomplishments. When the time came to leave you were sure you'd never cried so much, trying to hype yourself up for the adventure ahead.

It was a lot of fun, being at college, as it turned out. Making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. By the time it was over it felt like you could back and do it all again in a heartbeat.

You decided to move back to Dallas after you graduated. A job opportunity at a big paper came up, and your friend Pam had found an apartment that came with a spare room so it seemed like the right move.

It was about two weeks later you were tasked with going down to the Sportatorium on a Saturday night to document the latest wrestling match. Every time you went to a sporting event for work, you were accompanied by the senior sports writer, Duke. He was older than your father, far too old for his cheap toupee to be even the slightest bit believable. He wore cheap polyester suits, too much cologne and had a fondness for calling you ‘missy’ and placing his hand a little too low on your back.

You had psyched yourself up to ask Pam to come along, preparing a whole speech in your head. If she was with you then you could avoid Duke like the plague, couldn't possibly leave your guest alone.

Turned out Pam didn't take much convincing at all, in fact she practically jumped at the chance to come along. You tucked her excitement away in your mind, curious to see if the source would reveal itself at the match.

When the day came, you were excited to get some shots of a new sport. From what you'd seen on TV, the Sportatorium was bright and colorful, the wrestlers just as much so. You packed up your camera before getting changed into some jeans and a t-shirt.

Pam had taken one look at you and marched you back into your room, your protests of “But I'm working!” falling on deaf ears.

A compromise was reached. Your t-shirt stayed but a denim mini skirt replaced your jeans and brown cowboy boots replaced your beat up sneakers. You felt a little ridiculous, your job had you in all kinds of angles and positions to get the best shots, the last thing you wanted was to be unable to get a good picture because you'd end up flashing tomorrow's laundry to thousands of strangers.

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, the sun was dipping below the horizon and what seemed like hundreds of cars and trucks were pulling up. People were grabbing beers out of coolers, blasting music from boomboxes, grilling up hotdogs on portable barbecues. You got a couple of shots before Pam was hustling you inside to get your seats. Well, her seat. You told her you'd meet her outside after the match, not that she seemed to be paying attention, her eyes focused on the empty ring.

You made your way down to the ring, keeping an eye out for Duke and ready to sprint back to Pam if needed. To your relief, Duke wasn't in attendance. The junior sports reporter, Brian, had been sent in his place. The two of you weren't exactly close friends but he was much more professional. You got some shots of the crowd, feeling excited to see a match live. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, like something incredible was about to happen.

When the announcement came for the first tag team, you got some shots of them walking through the tunnel and into the ring, holding their arms in the air and greeting the crowd. Brian walked around the ring slowly, scribbling into a notepad, cigarette perched behind his ear.

Then they announced the next tag team, and you moved to the opposite tunnel to get shots of them. You took a breath as you snapped a shot of the taller one, his wavy blonde hair peeking out from under his back cowboy hat. He was wearing a leather jacket that he promptly tore off before he got into the ring, his back muscles rippling.

You cleared your throat, taking more photos and trying to concentrate on what you were there for.

The bell rang, and once the match started you had no shortage of great photo opportunities. The men in the ring moved with perfect proficiency and style, playing up to the crowd and putting on a spectacular show. You found yourself more and more drawn to the tall blonde, David Von Erich, you discovered.

He was so graceful yet could have these huge men slammed onto their backs, his arms bulging and a cocky grin on his face. Once or twice you could have sworn he caught your eye and winked at you but you were sure it was your imagination.

The Von Erichs won the match, you snapped a photo of the referee holding up the brother's hands as the crowd roared. Brian checked back in with you, telling you he was going to grab some quotes before heading off. You bid him farewell before going to find Pam, heading outside with the rest of the crowd.

“Hey, over here!”

You quickly spotted Pam, smiling as you waved back at her, weaving your way through the crowd to join her.

“Hey,” You smiled, laughing softly as Pam grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her face. “Are you al-”

“Come on,” Pam immediately started tugging you in the opposite direction. “let me show you something,”

You just about managed to maintain your balance and hold onto your camera as you dodged through the dispersing crowd, wondering what exactly Pam was doing.

Before long you had an answer, as you and Pam joined a large group of women hanging around the back door of the Sportatorium. Her keenness to come to the match made much more sense when Kevin Von Erich walked out the door, towel around his shoulders and bag slung over his shoulder. You had never known Pam to look at any man the way she was looking at Kevin.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked, giving Pam a gentle nudge. “Get on over there, girl.”

“I can't, there's too many girls round him,” Pam sighed. “I am not desperate. I'll wait for my time.”

“Saving the best for last huh?” You grinned, watching Pam roll her eyes playfully. “I don't think he's gonna be able to take his eyes off you.”

“You think?” Pam asked, glancing over to you. She looked genuinely concerned and you gave her a reassuring smile.

“I know.”

A little while later, when the crowd had dispersed and Kevin was signing the last couple of autographs, you gave Pam a gentle nudge, smiling as she quickly fixed her hair.

“Good luck,” You grinned, gently squeezing her arm. “Not that you need it.”

You gave her some space, walking over to a trash can before fishing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. You lit one up, glancing over to Pam and smiling as you spotted Kevin heading in her direction. Closing your eyes as you looked away, you took a long drag on your cigarette and felt yourself relax.

“You know it's a bad habit to smoke those things.”

You opened your eyes, finding a familiar face standing close to you. He looked better in person than he did in the ring, if that was possible.

“Well I'm sure you know that it is very rude to keep your hat on in the presence of a lady,” You raised a brow, flicking your ash into the trash can. “I could be deeply insulted.”

“I apologize,” David grinned, taking off his hat and giving you a slight bow as he did. He introduced himself properly, as did you, his hand moving over his heart as he tilted his head. “You know I was just joking, there's worse habits to have than smoking.”

You nodded, smiling a little. “Like creeping up on strangers?”

He laughed and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You willed it away, not wanting to be another simpering fan.

“You want one?” You asked, holding out the box of cigarettes. David looked like he was considering saying yes before he shook his head.

“No, thank you. I shouldn't.”

“Fair enough,” You nodded, putting the box back in your purse. “It really is a bad habit. I'm trying to quit but I got some time to kill so..”

“Oh yeah?” David raised a brow, glancing around the quiet car park before looking back at you. “What you waiting for?”

“My friend,” You gestured in the direction of Pam, who was deep in conversation with Kevin. “she's a big fan.”

“So I see,” David grinned, looking over to his brother and Pam before focusing his attention back on you. “and uh..what about you? Are you a big fan?”

You thought about it/made him wait for a moment as you took a drag on your cigarette and raised a brow.

“I'm just here for work.”

“Really?” David looked a little surprised, lightly rubbing his jaw. “What kinda work do you do?”

You held up your camera with a smile before flicking your cigarette in the trash can. “I’m a photographer,” You explained. “for a newspaper.”

“Oh right,” David smiled, folding his arms. “I'll have to buy that, see if you got any good ones of me. Which paper is it?”

“It's the uh..huh,” You grinned as you glanced over to Pam, watching her laugh as Kevin said something to her. “Excuse me for one second.”

You turned slightly, holding your camera up and focusing it on Pam and Kevin. You felt very aware of David's presence behind you, trying to hold your hands steady as you snapped a picture.

“I have a feeling I may need that one day,” You smiled, settling your camera strap back over your shoulder and turning to David. “They're cute together, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” David nodded, his gaze staying on you. “She ain't the cutest one here though.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile on your face and multiple flutters in your stomach.

“Oh shut up, that's such a line.”

“I'm deadly serious,” David grinned, holding his hat over his heart. “I promise.”

You were about to say something when Pam appeared, linking her arm with yours and giggling as she went to drag you away.

“Hang on one second,” David called, making you look over your shoulder with a smile.

“You never told me the name of your paper!”

“It's in Dallas,” You called back, walking forward with Pam, the two of you giggling. “If you find it, call me!”

📷

A couple of days later you were in the newspaper office, going over some photos for an upcoming article when one of the secretaries knocked on the door and asked for you.

“Call for you,” She explained, gesturing to the phone as you went to her desk. “They didn't give a name, just asked for you.”

“Okay, thanks Margaret,” You smiled, feeling a slight knot in your stomach. It was extremely rare someone called you at work, and you tried not to think the worst.

Going to the phone, you picked it up and took a deep breath before holding it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you realized who was on the other end of the line, a small smile on your face.

“How many papers did you have to call before you found me?”

“That's not important.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin.

“More than two?”

“..five.”

“Oh wow,” You grinned, turning more towards the wall. “That's perseverance right there. I'm flattered.”

“Well so am I,” David replied. “I saw those pictures you took. They were great, I wanted to thank you for catching me at such a flattering angle.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, glancing over your shoulder before looking back and lowering your voice slightly. “That the only reason you called six newspapers? Angles?”

“Not quite,” You could hear a cheeky tone in his voice, your fingers holding the phone cord. “I was hoping you'd come see me again. You don't have to take pictures this time, if you don't want.”

“As it happens I am coming,” You raised a brow with a smile. “Your brother beat you to the invite. He invited Pam, who invited me. So I'll be there.”

“Well damn,” David laughed softly. “I guess I'll just have to come right out with it then..ask you on a real date.”

“Oh?” You grinned, feeling like a teenager as your cheeks grew warm. “How about we make it interesting?”

“I'm all ears.”

You took a breath, trying to calm your heartbeat. You were aware of Margaret behind you, knowing she'd be listening to every word.

“Alright, if you win..I accept. If you don't, no deal.”

“Hm, sounds fair,” David replied. “I guess I'll have to try a little harder this week. I'll let you get back to work, alright?”

“Alright,” You nodded, trying not too smile too widely. “I'll see you Saturday. Bye.”

You hung up the phone, turning around to Margaret with a polite smile.

“Thank you, I'll be in the office.”

Once you closed the door and found yourself alone, you let out a laugh, shaking your head and wondering what you'd let yourself in for.

📷

Saturday came around quickly, and most of the day was given over to preparing. At first you were just helping Pam, heading into store after store to find the perfect outfit. Then you started looking for yourself, realizing that you wanted to put in just a little more effort since you were going to watch, not work.

As the evening drew closer, the radio was on full blast in the apartment as you and Pam cracked open a bottle of wine and started the beauty process. You couldn't shake the slight nerves that were settled in your stomach, but they were joined by an excitement.

“Oh,” Pam turned from the bathroom mirror to look at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, carefully painting your toenails. “Did he ever get in touch? David? I completely forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, he found me,” You grinned, laughing as Pam gasped. “Asked me to come along tonight. I told him I was already coming.”

“And?” Pam asked, waving her hand at you. “What else? Did he ask you out?”

“I told him he can take me out if he wins,” You smiled, holding the bottle of nail polish up in the air with a laugh as Pam rushed over to hug you.

“This is so exciting! We're gonna be like sisters!”

📷

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, it seemed to be even busier than it had been the previous week. You stepped out of your truck, smoothing out your outfit. It was only a black off the shoulder top and some denim jeans but you hoped it still looked good.

You linked your arm with Pam's as the two of you headed inside the bustling arena, your heart beating faster as you took your seats. As it turned out, watching the match was totally different to photographing it. You couldn't move about, couldn't pick one thing to focus on. It was all happening, bright and loud and thrilling. You found yourself cheering and whistling with the crowd, you and Pam both jumping up and screaming when the Von Erichs emerged victorious.

When it was all over and you were enjoying the fresh air, you couldn't help but find it adorable when Kevin couldn't keep his eyes off Pam while he signed autographs. Once he was free you gave him and Pam some space, almost immediately bumping into David.

“Hey winner,” You smiled, resting your hands in your back pockets. “Nice angles in there.”

“I hope someone was there to capture them,” David grinned, taking his hat off. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, watching David for a moment, smiling as you realized he almost seemed a little nervous. “I really enjoyed it..though I'm a little curious about something.”

“What might that be?” David asked, moving his hat from one hand to the other.

“Well,” You smiled, stepping closer and looking up at him. “Are you going to honor our agreement?”

📷

It was only when you were putting on your coat to leave the apartment when it dawned on that you hadn't actually been on a first date for..a while. There were some relationships in high school, a couple in college along with some dates and flings but the last had been before you graduated.

You tried not to think about it too much, you were just going for dinner and seeing a movie. Worst case scenario, you and David didn't end up hitting it off and the world would go on as it always did. But part of you was hopeful that something would come from the date, that it would develop into something really great.

Grabbing your purse, you left the apartment and went downstairs to hail a cab, excitement starting to outweigh the nerves.

📷

“No way,” You laughed, your eyes going wide as you placed your hand over your chest. “You did not do that.”

“Yes I did,” David nodded, a serious look on his face before he laughed. “I was so sick afterwards. Never got found out though. Mom just went and got Kerry and Mike a new egg each. I couldn't eat chocolate for like three months.”

“I'm not surprised,” You laughed, picking up your drink. “You can't say you didn't deserve it.”

David laughed, nodding as he picked up his own drink.

“I certainly did deserve it. Moment of weakness I guess.”

You took a sip of your drink before setting the glass down and glancing around the restaurant. It was a steakhouse, but it felt like a nice one. Elegant lighting, candles on the tables, classy music playing. No sawdust or butcher paper to be found.

“So do you think your brothers ever found out?” You asked, sitting up a little and resting your hands in your lap. “Or did you tell them?”

“No to both I'm afraid,” David sighed softly, lightly tapping his glass as he set it down. “Though I think Kev knew it was me..” He smiled to himself as he looked down. “Never said anything if he did know, though.”

“Seems like you two are close,” You smiled, your heart picking up a beat as David looked back at you with a warm smile.

“We are,” He nodded. “We all are. I can't imagine life without them, they're amazing.”

You felt your heart swell, trying not to get too swept up in your emotions.

“That's so wonderful,” You smiled. “It's amazing that you're all so close.”

“Yeah,” David grinned, sitting up a little. “I just feel so lucky every day, like..” He stopped himself, lightly rubbing his neck.

“You know what, I feel like all I've done is talk about myself, my brothers, I don't want you to think I'm self absorbed or nothing, I promise I ain't like that.”

You shook your head, reaching your hand across the table and grinning when David held it with his own.

“I know you're not,” You insisted. “You're wonderful. Now tell me more about your family, I want the good stories.”

You ended up missing the movie, but neither of you cared. You talked until the restaurant was closing, David's jacket around your shoulders as you walked out into the night air. He gave you a ride home and kissed your cheek by your door like a gentleman.

“I had a great time,” You smiled, carefully taking off David's jacket and giving it back to him. You could tell he wanted to tell you to keep it, and you knew why he couldn't.

“Maybe you should win another match, take me out again.”

“It's a deal.”

📷

Going to matches became a weekly event. You and Pam would cheer and cling to each other, laughing at how silly you were being. You took pictures for yourself, wanting to remember every moment. Afterwards you would meet David and Kevin, go for burgers and debrief on the match.

It wasn't always easy for David to visit you, so you called each other when you could, spending an hour or two talking about anything and everything. You drove down to Denton a couple of times, meeting him for something to eat or just for a drive.

He was always a perfect gentleman, opening doors for you and holding your hand, never pressing for anything more even though you suspected he was just as keen as you were to take things further.

You decided to nudge things in the right direction one night when you had gone down to visit him. Pam had come with you, and David and Kevin had taken you to the lake with their brother Mike, who you instantly adored.

The afternoon was perfect, gorgeous hot weather and ice cold beers, floating along in the water and feeling like nothing else could possibly matter but being in that moment.

You were sitting on the edge of the dock while the others drifted along on the huge rubber float, snapping a couple of shots of them before setting the camera aside. David appeared next to you, sitting down and resting his hand on your back. You leaned into the touch, his arm moving around your shoulders.

“I love this,” You smiled softly, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “If every day was like this..what a world.”

“It's perfect,” David murmured softly. “I can't think of anything better.”

“Hm, I reckon I can,” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking up at him. His eyes were already on you and you grinned as he took a breath and leaned in, his lips feeling like heaven against yours.

You could hear the cheers and whistles, smiling into the kiss and feeling satisfied beyond belief.

📷

“You ready for this?”

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Absolutely not.”

You flicked on the indicator and headed up the long drive to the Von Erich home, glancing over to Pam in the passenger seat.

“At least we're in this together.”

It was incredibly daunting, the thought of meeting David's parents and his brother Kerry, who had recently come home. He had told you countless times that they would love you, but it didn't ease your nerves.

You were relieved to have Pam with you, that she was in the same boat. Mike met you both at the door, giving you both a hug and chatting away as he led you outside.

It was a flurry of introductions, handshakes and hugs and the most perfect kiss from David that had you instantly relaxing.

By the time everyone sat down for dinner, it felt as though you had known the Von Erichs forever. The food was delicious, the weather was beautiful, the company was amazing. You felt David reach for your hand under the table when his parents talked about how they met, your heart swelling.

When Doris forbade Mike from going to a gig that night, you glanced across the table to Pam smiling as she gave you a slight nod.

📷

“Alright, drive, drive!”.

You put your foot down, laughing as you glanced in the mirror and watched your boyfriend and his brothers gradually haul themselves into your truck. You turned the radio up when you left the driveway, rolling down the windows and cheering as you hit the road.

It didn't matter whose house the party was in, it was big and roomy and most importantly, fun. You had a beer in your hand before you knew it, hitting the makeshift dance floor. The brothers spun you and Pam around, laughter filling the air as you moved to the music, not a care in the world.

When Mike took to the stage with his band, you stood with David behind you, his arms wrapped around you. You all cheered as the song started up, swaying along as you held your hands over David's.

Later in the evening you gently took David's hand and pulled him into a quiet corner, whispering in his ear and enjoying the slightly tipsy smile that crossed his face, a flash of worry passing his eyes.

You led him upstairs, finding an empty bedroom and closing the door.

“We..we don't have to,” David insisted as you slipped off your shoes. “I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“I don't,” You smiled, walking to the end of the bed and unzipping your dress before turning back to David. “But I will think you don't want to if you don't get over here in the next thirty seconds.”

He didn't need to be asked twice.

You laughed as you were picked up bridal style and carried to the top of the bed, letting out a soft moan as David laid you down and gave you a tender kiss.

Despite your suspicions that David was possibly a virgin, you didn't ask when he didn't bring it up. He was a little apprehensive, but once you took the lead he seemed to tap into his ring persona and the confidence in his movements had you struggling not to scream as your nails dug into his back, the sheets, your body crying out for more.

“Oh god,” You moaned, touching David's cheek and looking up to meet his eyes as your legs hooked around his waist. “Baby..’m so close, please..”

You closed your eyes as he pushed deeper into you, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” He murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “Fuck..fuck..I love you.”

Your eyes went wide at the confession, a deep moan spilling from your lips as you felt a wave crash over you, feeling David fill you moments later. You moved your hands to his neck, meeting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I'm sorry,” He sighed, looking down. “I shouldn't have-this isn't the time..”

“No,” You insisted, a smile spreading on your face. “It's the perfect time. I love you, too.”

📷

“Mind if I get one of those?”

You turned around, letting out a sigh of relief as you spotted Kerry walking towards you.

“Of course,” You smiled, taking the box of cigarettes from your purse and handing it over. “Thought you were David for a second.”

Kerry laughed as he accepted the box, shaking his head.

“Nah, your secret is safe with me. Just needed one huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, flicking away the ash. “I'm so nervous. I don't know why, it's not like I have to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds of people wearing this,” You raised a brow, gesturing to your dress.

As much as you adored Pam, and as thrilled as you were that she was getting married and had asked you to be her maid of honor, you did not exactly love the dress she had chosen. For a start, it was a mix of dusky pink and peach, the skirt was so big you wondered if you fit down the aisle, and the sleeves were almost the size of your head.

“I feel you,” Kerry nodded, looking down at himself as he lit his cigarette. “I think we all feel a little ridiculous. But you know the worst part?”

“Go on,” You smiled, lifting up the puffball that had slipped down your shoulder. “shock me.”

“I gotta do this three more times,” Kerry sighed, lightly prodding the flower attached to his suit. “At least you get to choose your wedding dress. I'm stuck in velvet hell.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a drag on your cigarette.

“Oh come on, it ain't so bad. I think I heard Mike say he would never have velvet.”

“Really?” Kerry raised a brow, looking over to you.

“Promise,” You grinned, holding your hand over your heart. “He said he'd have velour.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kerry laughed, shaking his head and holding his hand out. “Gimme a mint and get out of here, I'll velour you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” You laughed, getting a mint from your purse and flicking your cigarette away before walking over to Kerry. “See you inside. Don't destroy that flower.”

📷

“Isn't she beautiful?” You smiled, watching Pam and Kevin sway on the dancefloor, smiles etched on their faces as they moved to the music.

You felt the urge to take a photo, but a professional had been hired for the day. Pam had insisted she wanted you to be in the pictures, not the one behind the camera. You had been a little disappointed, but you gave her the photo you'd taken from when she and Kevin had first met, and her reaction made it all worth it.

“She really is,” Doris nodded, looking over to you and taking your hand with a smile. “And you will be too.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let me go get us another drink.”

You stood up, making your way over to the bar with a smile. While you and David weren't officially engaged, it was kind of an unspoken truth that when Pam and Kevin had gotten married, David would propose to you next. Kerry wasn’t seeing anyone, and while Mike was dating a girl, they had only been together a few weeks.

So, you knew you were next up.

As you waited for your drinks, you smiled as you felt a familiar presence by your side.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“Yes,” You grin, turning to face David and giving him a kiss. “But I don't mind hearing it again.”

As the song ended and a new one started up, more guests took to the floor.

“Should we go for a twirl?” David asked, gently stroking your cheek. “or maybe not quite a twirl, that dress will take out anyone who comes close,” He teased.

“Oh shut up,” You laughed, lightly swatting him. “I'm getting your mom a drink, if I don't take you out first.”

“I'll take it to her,” David smiled, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Then you owe me a dance.”

📷

So, here it is.

The big day.

You thought at times it would never come, but it's here.

A lot has happened, of course. Weddings need buildup, after all. The guests can only talk about how beautiful you look and wonder who did the food for so long. You gotta give them something.

So what's new? It's been a minute, a luxuriously long engagement.

The Von Erichs have gone from strength to strength, reaching the top of the wrestling game. You still go see matches, when you can. They're global now, you always feel a rush of pride when you watch them on TV at some crazy hour.

Pam is a world class veterinarian, an incredible mother to the most gorgeous baby, and still the best friend in the world.

Kevin won the WHC belt, is the most devoted husband, father, brother, brother-in-law and son. He and Pam keep saying they're going to buy a ranch in Hawaii for everyone to live in, and you like to think maybe it could be true.

Kerry insists he's your favorite brother-in-law, and you insist that you couldn't possibly choose a favorite but deep down you think he's most likely right. He makes you laugh the most, teases you and makes stupid jokes to cheer you up when you need it. The two of you have sneaky cigarettes and know what the other is thinking when you look at each other.

Mike has just signed a recording contract with his band, and you tell him all the time he better come to you first with concert tickets. He's going to be the next one engaged, he's so loved up and it's adorable.

Then there's David.

The yellow rose who called up six different newspapers just to ask you out, who let you into his life, who loves you unconditionally and makes you so unbelievably happy that you wonder what you ever did without him. You would never have pursued your dreams without him and his family, that's something you know. And let's not forget his proposal, which was the most beautiful moment of your life.

David had taken you on a surprise trip one night, insisting that you were just going for a drive after you'd been out for dinner, but you knew it wasn't true. You found yourself at the lake, David's hand in yours as you walked down to the dock, which..was decorated with candles in jars, rose petals, a bottle of champagne sitting in ice.

Knowing that you were marrying your soulmate, joining a family you loved deeply, it made you feel so safe, so secure. You quit your job, deciding to pursue your real passion. You bought a gallery in Dallas, and displayed your own work along with other local artists, including your soon to be mother in law. It took time, but it's become a success, and you don't care what any of them say, you couldn't have done it without your family.

Plenty for the guests to talk about, right?

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, Pam fixes your dress and you take a deep breath. Her dress is beautiful, and most importantly, simple.

Before you know it you're walking down the aisle, your heart beating faster as hundreds of faces smile at you, but there's only one you need to see, and when you do it makes everything okay.

You reach the top of the aisle, feeling overwhelmed with love, beaming as you turn to look at your soon to be husband.

“You know it's a bad habit to leave the bride with a veil over her face,” You grinned, watching David gently touch the hem of the silky veil and carefully move it back, a wide smile on his face.

“I do apologize,” He grinned. “Still gonna marry me?”

“Of course,” You smiled. “You look perfect from this angle.”

#the iron claw #the iron claw fic #the iron claw fanfiction #david von erich x reader #david von erich x you #harris dickinson #harris dickinson fanfic #harris dickinson x reader #harris dickinson x you

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fangirldreams101 · 5 months

Text

Coming Home pt. 7

DBF! Daryl, Rick, Shane & Negan x Reader

TW: Severe age-gap w/ older men, smut, consensual sex, handjobs/fingering, groping, some aggression, alcohol usage, piv (unwrapped, reader is on pill though), mentions of r*pe and m*rder (nothing actually happens though), goes from fluff to angst to smut, you chose the enter this emotional rollercoaster, they may be hot but they are hot with feelings, dub-con (technically consent is given, but its morally grey), oral (fem receiving）

Chapter Index

Throughout the rest of Negan's stay, you both became rather close. You gave him a proper tour of the small town you now called home and showed him all your favorite spots. He took you out on a few dates behind your dad's back, you both enjoying your time together. He loved to treat you after fucking your brains out, having you walk around without any panties so he could pull you into a dark corner and fuck you against the wall. He devoured every part of you that he could, it was like he wanted to memorize your body for when he would have to go back home. You had zero unrealistic expectations about your relationship, you were both just there for a good time until Negan had to fly back to Washington. He might not choose to take the job and you were not planning on getting tied down when you just started college anyway. But although you two were on the same page, it looked like some others did not get the memo.

Daryl shared what he saw the night of your birthday with Rick and Shane. Shane was just mad that someone got to you first, but Rick and Daryl were furious. How dare some dumb shit come in and fuck you when they couldn't? And then they had to see Negan parade you around like he just won himself the prized pony at the town fair. You were too innocent, too good for a man like Negan. Sure, they didn't know a thing about him, but they were more than certain they could treat you a million times better than he ever could. So they attempted to hatch various little schemes to make Negan look bad. However, none of them made it past the drawing board. The saying, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend,' did not apply at all to them. They would end up bickering amongst themselves and not a single plan came to fruition.

Any semblance of a truce between the three of them broke one fateful night.

Your dad was out drinking with some coworkers and you were at home, working on schoolwork. Suddenly, you heard the doorbell ring. Cautiously, you crept down the stairs and looked through the peep hole to find out who it was. It was Rick, bloodshot eyes and messed up hair. You quickly unlocked and opened the door, worried about his mental state.

"Hey is everything ok," you questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, clearly not expecting you to be the one to answer the door.

He didn't say anything which made you uneasy, so you lied about the whereabouts of your dad, "Were you looking for my dad? I can call him if you'd like."

He just stood there, looking at you. Honestly, it freaked you out, murder and rape statistics where the culprit is someone you know flashed through your head as you began to slowly backtrack on your words.

"How about you give me a second and I get my dad. He's upstairs, but it'll only take a second-," you began but Rick suddenly collapsed to his knees.

"Jesus! Rick, what's wrong," you cry out, running to his side.

His hands shoot out, pulling you into a rough kiss. Your body stills in shock, before struggling and pushing him away.

‘HEY," you yell, before softening your voice, "You are not in your right mind right now. Either you calm down and speak, or you leave."

Rick's bloodshot eyes began to tear up and you never thought you would see the day the man would be so vulnerable like this.

"Lori's takin' the kids," he shakily breathed out.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Oh god, Rick, I'm so sorry."

He buried his face into his hands and began to sob. Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him into the house and led him to a couch. You sat down next to him, pulling a blanket over his shoulders as the poor man broke down. You just held him, allowing him to cry out all his frustrations onto your shoulder.

After a while, his cries slowed to a stop and he pulled away. You offered him some napkins to wipe his face and he did so.

You both sat in silence for a bit before you broke it, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not much to talk about," his voice was rough, guarded, as if he was disappointed in himself for letting you see him like this.

"Is there anything you would like me to do," you asked, your voice kind and gentle, and completely undeserving of the storm running through his head.

"Can I kiss ya," he asked.

"Rick...," you said hesitantly, "You didn't want anything to do with me before and I'm worried that you'll regret it if you do something now. I don't want to take advantage of what you're feeling right now.“

He leaned close to you, eyes pleading, "I swear 'm not gonna regret it. I need ya, darlin'. Please."

He leaned in and pressed his swollen lips to yours. You didn't kiss back but after a moment of him running his fingers into your hair, mumbling words of praise and desire, you gave in.

"As long as you are sure," you said between his kisses.

"'m sure, 'm so sure. Wanted ya for so long, darlin'. Ya got no idea, how hard its been," he groaned out.

"Woah, there cowboy, I got a bedroom y'know," you gave a small smile, pulling Rick up and walking him up to your room.

As soon as the door was closed, he was on you like an animal. Desperate kisses placed against your neck and hands wandering all over your body. You moaned in response, your own hands tugging at the buttons on his shirt. Prying your clothes off each other, you take a moment to appreciate the handsome man on top of you. He pressed himself into your neck growling at the sight of Negan's marks littering your body. He begins to suck and bite over them, as if he was trying to cover up any evidence that Negan had you. Your naked bodies tumbled onto the bed, hands groping and pulling at each others' flesh. Rick lifted your hips, moving down your body, placing kisses as he went.

You offered to take care of him instead, but he looked up at you with his big eyes and pleaded to let him do this. With a nod of confirmation, he dug his face into you, eating you out like a man starved. Low groans of appreciation left his lips, his eyes closing in bliss as he licked a long stripe up your lips. He began to suckle on your clit, causing you to flail at the pleasure. You panted and moaned loudly, Rick having to force your hips down lest you accidently kick him. You reached your peak quickly, waves of pleasure crashing over you but Rick turned it into a tsunami as he continued to finger your slick folds and circle your clit with his mouth.

"Rick, 's too much," you moaned out at the overstimulation, trying to push him away.

He looked like a man possessed, like not a single word you were saying was getting through to him. As you tried to move away, his grip on your hips tightened, leaving marks as he just tugged you ever closer to his face. He kept mumbling incoherent words, you only picking up, "so pretty," "all mine," and, "waited so long." The desperate, sinful phrases he uttered sent vibrations through you, reaching another crescendo as you came again.

"Rick," you cried out in a long-drawn out moan, "Please."

The man blinks, looking like he fell out of a trance. He pulls away, allowing you to slump down in relief.

"'m sorry, darlin'," he said, wiping the glisten off of his face, "You just tasted so good."

"It's okay," you panted, still trying to catch your breath.

Rick takes that as his cue to continue, and he surges forward, spreading your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds.

"Wai- oh," you moan out as Rick plunges into you with one hard thrust.

He's girthy, stretching you out despite all of the wetness on you. It takes your breath away, but feels amazing and you cling onto his shoulders, pulling him close.

Without hesitation, Rick begins to move, thrusting in and out of you at a harsh pace. Once again, he acts like a man possessed, violently humping you. He bites and sucks on your breasts, pinching and pulling on your nipples. He switches from thrusting to giving shallow thrusts while grinding against your clit. It's like he is trying to be as deep inside of you as he can. He halts his assault on your breasts, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

In return, you wraps your legs around his hips, helping him reach deeper inside of you. You both moan out sweet nothings, words of empty affection and desire. Eventually, Rick grunts, pushing in deep and stilling, as white hot ribbons pulse out and line your walls.

As soon as he feels that every drop is in you, he slowly pulls out before quickly plugging you up with his fingers, causing you to cry out. He moves his head back down again, lapping at you while his fingers push his cum deeper inside. He tastes the mixture of you both and it makes him happy to know that there is such physical evidence of you together. You cry out one last time, lurching upwards as Rick helps you ride out your high. He finally pulls away completely and you let out a small laugh in absolute disbelief of how good that was.

"That good, huh, darlin'," Rick grinned and you nodded, reaching down to pull him in for a kiss.

You both relaxed into the bed, giddy and cuddled up next to each other.

After a bit of peace, you looked up at him, "Are you feeling better?"

He smiled, leaning down and kissing your forehead, "Much."

"Thank you," he murmured into your hair and you smiled, "Anytime."

The serenity you both created was broken by the sound of the door to the house closing and your dad's voice booming out, "Hi! I'm home!"

Whatever little pocket of peace, the temporary paradise you bestowed upon each other, was shattered with those three words. Rick rolled away from you like a man on fire, dropping to the ground in an effort to scramble for his clothes.

"Fuck," you whispered and the man muttered unholy mantras under his breath as he struggled to put his clothes on.

You put on a nightgown you owned and a robe, "Calm down. He doesn't come into my room without knocking and you left nothing downstairs that would be evidence you were here. You're going to have to wait for him to go to his room before you can slip out the door anyway."

You heard your dad call for you again as his footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and down the hall towards your room. You and Rick looked at each other in a panic.

"I can jump outta the window, a fracture never hurt nobody," he said, already pulling at the window.

Your dad knocked on the door, "Sweetie? Everything okay? Just got back from hanging with the guys."

You signaled to Rick to stop moving and to stay quiet, before calling back out to him, "Yeah everything's good! Just woke up from a nap is all! I'll be down in a sec!"

Your dad yawned, "No worries! Take your time too, think Imma take a shower 'n freshen up."

You could hear him move away from your door and towards the bathroom. Neither you nor Rick moved a hair until the sounds of the water rushing caused you to both sag in relief.

"Were you really about to jump out the window, just to avoid him," you quipped, quirking an eyebrow.

Rick did not look amused, "I really don't want to hurt him."

You put your hands up in a surrendering motion, you really didn't want to redo this conversation again, "Okay, okay. Let's get you out of here."

You poked your head out of the room, double checking that the coast was clear and then motioned for Rick to follow you. You guys climbed down the stairs and reached the front door. You both went out onto the porch and he began to move away.

Quickly, you grasped onto his arm, "You're not going to start treating me coldly again, are you?"

"Pretty sure it was you doin' that, darlin'," he chuckled, but stopped seeing your expression.

"You know what I mean," you pouted.

Rick sighed, before reaching down and pecking you on the head, "I do. And I won't."

You gave a bright smile, practically blinding him. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you planted a sweet kiss on his lips.

"I look forward to seein' you around, then."

Rick nodded, a slight blush covering his face, "Wouldn't miss it for the world, darlin'."

He stepped away, turning to watch you reenter the house before going back on his way home. Life kept draining him, but you kept him going like a solar-powered battery.

Next up:

"YOU DID WHAT TO MY KID?" Your dad roared.

Taglist:

@eternalrose81 @belaballs @lonely-girl2423 @thewitchesofart @theoraekenslover @raininhell @juleshaters @blackvelveteen1339

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the-joy-of-knowledge · 10 months

Text

How to answer tough interview questions.

Subscribing to the Harvard Business Review was one of the best decisions I made. I have learned so much about career development, personal branding, and job crafting. This article summarizes some of the questions you will get asked in a behavioral interview (courtesy of HBR) and I have included my responses to all of them. Assume I am seeking a HR role in a Fortune 500 company

Tell me about yourself and describe your background in brief?

How did you hear about this position?

What type of work environment do you prefer?

How do you deal with pressure or a stressful situation?

Do you prefer working independently or on a team?

How do you keep yourself organized when balancing multiple projects?

What did you do in the last year to improve your knowledge?

Tell me about yourself and describe your background in brief?

I grew up in small country in West Africa. I went to a great school through scholarship with the condition that I would pay it forward to the younger generation. So, after high-school I spent two years teaching math to elementary school kids. It was there I discovered my interest of people development. I enjoyed taking a kid from "I don't like math to can I get more homework? When I moved to the U.S for college I chose to study Psychology with a minor in Organizational Development. And my internship as a Human Capital Manager has allowed me to further develop my communication and leadership skills.

How did you hear about this position?

I learned about this position through Stacy Williams. She was one of the panelists on the fireside chat I convened in my school on the importance of women in leadership positions. I followed up with her through a coffee chat. She really enjoyed her job and the company culture. Her enthusiasm about her work encouraged me to apply and I am really excited to be going through the interview process.

What type of work environment do you prefer?

I thrive in environments where I am constantly learning. A place where each days brings a fresh set of challenges that I can solve. I also like working with teams where we can collaborate on tasks and brainstorm solution-oriented ideas. In my former internship I worked with an incredible team as a project manager in the human resources division and I worked on certain projects where I had full creative control on the outcome. I enjoyed the balance of both.

How do you deal with pressure or a stressful situation?

Stressful situations are inevitable and I learned to navigate them successful throughout my college career and my various internships. The first time I came across a stressful situation was in my Sophomore year. I worked as a customer service representative at a big department store and it was holiday season. You can imagine the amount of pressure - long lines of customers all waiting to get attended too. Instead of succumbing to the pressure I made sure to really understand the pain point of each customer which were long wait times and stock outs. If we were out of one brand of sparkling water, I would quickly recommend a different brand. If lines were long, I would go to the floor to help the bagging process. Customers left feeling satisfied with their shopping experience. Overtime, I have realized that the key to dealing with pressure is willingly choosing to complete the tasks with a positive mindset instead of worrying.

Do you prefer working independently or on a team?

I like a mix of both. I enjoy working on a team. The process of strategizing with my teammates on the best way to approach a problem allows for critical analysis and diverse points of view. Wh I also build camaraderie and trust with them while we tackle big problems. I enjoy working alone as well because I get to see how I approach different problems and compare my current performance to my previous ones. Working alone also gives me an opportunity to get feedback from my managers on my progress or areas of improvement. I like a balance of both.

How do you keep yourself organized when balancing multiple projects?

I am used to working on multiple projects. A typical semester for me is juggling between my classes, weekend job, extracurricular activities, and passion projects. So to stay on top of my deadlines and due dates I like to prioritize my tasks based on their level of urgency and importance. I use the time blocking method to schedule time for my projects. I take advantage of tools like Google calendar to keep track of due dates and appointments and Notion to manage big projects.

What did you do in the last year to improve your knowledge?

Last summer, I took some time off to really learn about veganism. It seemed intimidating at first because I did not know enough. So I turned to research to understand the facts. I began making home-cooked meals by following recipes from people I trusted and liked on YouTube. As I began noticing changes in my gut health and productivity levels, I started a blog to share my experiences. Now my blog has over 500 enthusiastic vegans who are on the same journey as I am. it was one of the best investment I made in myself.

The Big Pivot

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grison-in-space · 1 month

Text

Watching the new Alex Jones doc, which is heavy on the alt right response to Sandy Hook and the gun rhetoric that followed... so yeah I thought of when I was teaching during #GunFreeUT back in 2015 as a PhD student in Austin. I would have been about 25. When people came to my workplace and the state said that the students had been complaining* about how frightened they were to be away from their firearms for twenty minutes. When the entire campus was newly declared acceptable for open carry of ducking semiautomatic rifles. The undergrad who organized #CocksNotGlocks, who accurately pointed out that state obscenity laws banned sex toys in public to appeal to people's comfort and sensibilities, but would not consider such a thing for deadly weapons. As I recall, she drew massive waves of harassment from random people who were actual alt right adults with jobs and lives, not college students. I think she had to take a gap year.

*in fact the law was extremely unpopular among the UT Austin student body, most of who were horrified by having to confront the possibility of deadly weapons belonging to fuck only knows whom in not only their workplace but their homes.

I remember standing in a room for staff resistance through #GunFreeUT, the smell of the room, the texture of the cotton shirt I wore. The hastily organized attempts to carve out any freedom we could. The horrified stipulations about whether firearms could be kept out of classrooms themselves if not campuses (no), and the fretful whispers about what the state had declared about our offices, how we were going to be able to declare them gun free zones... If we agreed that students with concealed carry licenses could choose to meet with us somewhere where the gun was allowed to go. The group that announced it was going to celebrate its new open carry status by staging a school shooting on campus, the shooter of course to be played by a "good guy with a gun." The university announcing that they had interceded and made clear to the group that this re enactment could not take place, so they kicked the demonstration a couple of blocks away. Happened at a local gas station.

I was still seeing sad flyers from office staff and teachers saying things like PLEASE NO GUNS IN THIS SPACE when I graduated with my PhD in 2020, the first winter the pandemic was in full swing. I remember the texture of the paper the last time I saw it vividly. I catch myself starting to think about the campus school stabbing I would teach through in 2017 and any one of a hundred more rearguard final stands between the city and the state and—

Okay, that's where I got up and walked off to get a soda. You're getting me now after I've had a minute.

That's a classic PTSD flashback, in case you're wondering. At no time do my senses report anything to my mind about anything unusual happening in the room. At no time, while I remember these things, do I believe that I am currently in danger for my life. It's a strong, vivid memory, but only a memory.

But it's a memory that grabs you by the mind and shakes you. That's a flashback. It's a classic simple PTSD flashback as a consequence of fear and stress sustained over time. Other folks around me who think maybe PTSD or maybe cPTSD applies to you, if you're hung up on not thinking you get anything like flashbacks?

That's what a flashback is from the inside. Your brain is running over the memory of the thing that forever changed your estimation of safety. Just in case you might forget.

Just, you know. In case anyone is wondering.

#ptsd #neurodivergence #trauma #politics #the horrors #alex jones

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sadtonight · 1 year

Text

Perfect's perfect child

Summary: surprisingly, tending a child is relatively easy. Or so he thought: innocent childish antics are endearing, until they turn disastrous!

Characters: Pomefiore;

Warnings: reader and character's child is biological, children's names are not specified, reader is gender neutral, reader is perfect but without Grim, established romantic relationships, grown up characters;

Side notes: my bestie was such a hungry child. Though no matter how much or what she ate it didn't help her grow ha ha. She's the size of an Epel if you are wondering. AGAIN FORGOT THAT GRIM EXISTS RIP.

Vil

— does Vil Schoenheit have a spouse? Yes, that's a well known fact. And apparently, completely magicless which was nothing out of the ordinary, despite some nasty fans assuming it to be unacceptable. But does the couple have children? There are rumours circulating around due to celebrity's implicit answers on the matter, but no-one knows for sure...

— the reason why your son's existence is shrouded by the veil of mystery is due to Vil wishing for your child to not be burdened by his father's reputation. It's not like he is ashamed of himself or the progress he had done: unlike Vil's father, Vil is mostly renowned by his excellently performed villainous movie roles and refined yet cold exterior that he polished even more after his graduation from Night Raven College;

— your husband successes lead to meeting many talented folk from all sorts of industries, some of which were not even directly linked to Vil's field of activities. Either way, you both were about to welcome one of those guest at your house, them being close enough to know of the existence of your son;

— speaking of the boy, the frowning youngling was currently in his room, sitting on the soft plush light purple carpet before openned dresser looming over his small frame, the inside of the furniture and it's content engulfed in darkness. Usually you or Vil helped him choose an outfit for the day, but now both of you were busy with preparations so you couldn't aid your young kid;

— he finally got up from his position and tugged on the intricate shirt until it fell down and put it on, coming up to a mirror to check himself out. The ribbons behind were displaced! The boy couldn't fix them himself so he gripped the lower part of the clothes and rushed out to get someone to help;

— despite the house not being small, the smell of delicious food was thick in the air. Among the aromas, the boy spotted the smell of plums, fruits that he deeply associated with his father Vil. The decision was made: the boy run into your shared room, not without lightly knocking on the door;

— your son saw who he was hoping to find — amethyst eyed male sitting upright before the vanity, applying purple lipstick to his lips. However, before the boy could ask his dad for help, suddenly you called out from the kitchen for Vil's urgent help, so the man has risen from the chair, leaving the lipstick tube sitting on the vanity table, excusing himself and telling the boy to wait for him here;

— with a huff, small boy walked around the room, seeking something interesting to occupy himself with in the meantime until his eyes lended on the vanity. Child climbed the chair and put his hands on the table, rolling his shoulders behind, puffing his chest out: like this, he looked like dad! Shiny funny-shaped beauty products were a no no for your son and yet he couldn't help reaching for opened purple lipstick tube;

— all types of questions were swirling in boy's mind, in particular how the lipstick would feel and of course how it tasted. He was hungry after all. First, he applied some colour, but missed the shape of his lips and in attempt to erase his doings he tried to lick lipstick off, finding out that it was extremely hard to do so. Left with no other option, the child bit on the purple stick, chewing the material which was nothing like plums like he initially thought it would taste!

— your son was about to take another bite to clarify but was lifted up and turned to face scary expressionless Vil. "Hmp, didn't I tell you to wait for me? You do know that disobedient children get eaten? And I happened to be veeery hungry now~" the last phrases came out with a smirk upon seeing the young boy pleading, frightened eyes. In truth, Vil wasn't angry at all and didn't plan to punish the troublemaker — on the contrary, his son getting interested in make up wasn't a bad sign. Though beautiful male does feel upset with the poor state of his freshly made purple lipstick....

Rook

— you wondered on multiple occasions if after graduating Night Raven College, marrying to Rook Hunt and having kids with him, would they share the same eccentricity like their father? One way to test it is to have children, and so after an extensive long while the first child was born;

— first few years you had to hold your overexcited husband by the imaginary collar since he was a little too ready to share his crafts with the infant boy who couldn't even make a full coherent sentence. The fact didn't bother Rook in the slightest: if anything, it meant that he could observe how the little one communicates! Comme ç'est excitant!

— and unsurprisingly, soon enough your son showed the interest in drawing while Rook was testing to see what arts the boy would show interest in. Apart from drawing, your husband also wished to introduce the boy to many other forms of self expression, naturally showing of the fruit of his artisticity — various collections of photos and photo albums. It was endearing to see the two sitting on the couch under the cover, your content husband, turning the pages with faintly visible nostalgia flowing in the eyes and faint smile looping up in the corners of his mouth, and your son observing every picture with curious expression that only small children could master;

— after being exposed to photos of nature, animals and beautiful figures your son's attention was drawn only to those subjects. You recall seeing crudely drawn Leona-s on the back of the colour book. The small boy would try to sneak the photo albums to his room to observe the pictures for how long he wanted, but Rook had always blew any attempt of theft. That is until one fateful day;

— it was an ordinary autumn noon, except for you being absent from home, out in the town hanging out with some guys from the college. Rook was babysitting the young boy in the living room, tweaking with one of his bows as the later who despite suffering from cold, was drawing animals on the paper at small coffee;

— blonde male's attention was diverted to his son who was tugging his clothes and pointing to the table, silently informing his father about the lack of black paper sheets. Rook got up from the sofa and hid his bow away, made the boy drink medicine and gently instructed him to go rest while he goes to buy the art supplies. It would take less than 15 minutes to do the deed, so the huntsman was sure nothing wrong would take place;

— it was already evening, so you decided to get back home already. A bus ride home, and you were standing before your doors. You rung the doorbell, expecting your cheerful husband to sweep you of your feet and ask about your meet-up yet you were met with the bewildering scene: Rook was smiling...and crying at the same time;

— turns out, he was away for some time to buy paper, and your son had managed to get his little hands on the photo albums, which huntsman hid so well that even you didn't know where they were concealed, and drew on every single picture with colourful pens. Rook wasn't angry, how could he get angry at such wonderful artistic display, but the pain of losing such precious photographs was too severe to not shed a few dozens of tears. It's still a wonder that the boy found those albums in his sickly state — hunter's intuition must run strong in Hunt's bloodline you assume!

Epel

— your fair, lilac haired husband has been suffering from his feminine outward appearance from childhood up to now, even though he deliberately drabbled in fashion industry to help promote his family's business after his time spent in Pomefiore dorm. So with the birth of a daughter, Epel hoped that maybe he could restore his manliness by appearing in father's role publicly, yet it had the opposite effect;

— you see, the little girl was such a successful mix of yours and Epel's genes that she along with both of you were swept by the media and proclaimed to be the cutest family in the whole country, even surpassing Neige's close-knit, big family. Now your husband had one more title to his name, apart from "the cutest of them all", which was good for his career but bad for his male soul;

— maybe to general public he didn't seem manlier but to you, nothing spoke more volumes than how he behaved with your daughter. Honestly, you envied the girl sometimes — she was spoilt rotten with fatherly affection she received each day! They shared similar personality vise that it felt like the saying about apple not falling far behind it's tree was made specifically for those too;

— speaking of apples, your small family has just returned from a trip to Harveston. Unsurprisingly, little girl showed great interest in articulate and farming and spent time with Epel's relatives. Before you knew, it was already time to head back to city's hustle and bustle, so your husband packed several crates of fruit and drinks (he carried each crate himself without using magic by the way!!) and you were good to go;

— in contrast to you and Epel who were exhausted, your daughter was ready to return to the country side the very next day. The images of colourful apples blending with green leaves up above only added fuel to the fire. It was early in the morning when Epel felt a small hand pat his cheek. The little child wanted to eat an apple, so the father had to crack open a wooden crate. Half asleep, with small girl pacing close by, he effortlessly opened the lid and gave a big yawn. Just one apple, he said and went back to your shared bed;

— it later in the morning, Epel felt a bigger hand patting his cheek. This time it was you who woke him up, crackling and barely contacting a full-blown laughter. Needless to say, this greatly confused your husband whom you dragged to the kitchen. What he saw though were horrors that made him twist his face into utter shock: apples scattered everywhere, all littered with bite marks as if some sort of rabbits have attacked those apples. And amongst this mess, on the chair was sitting a girl with a single half eat apple;

— Epel crouched down a little to the eye level and, in a strained voice, questioned your daughter what happened to which she with a proud smile and puffed out chest responded that she had finally found the tastiest apple! Alas, she didn't want to eat the rest of it, so she placed the leftover on the table and skipped away from the crime scene;

— turns out, the male had done something similar back when he was a child, as his mother informed you over the phone sometime later, thus he remained in the room to clean it up, salvaging those fruit that could be used for apple pies. Those two were the cutest, you thought, while admiring the photo you have sneakily taken when both of them talked.

#twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader

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redwoodrecords · 9 months

Text

— redwood. —

DEMO. ❀

MASTERLIST. PLAYLISTS. BUY ME A COFFEE.

━ introduction. ━

Congratulations! You have just received an acceptance letter from Redwood University.

A highly selective institution with alumni ranging from Nobel Peace Prize winners, Film Directors, Diplomats and other internationally renowned individuals. You are the first in your small town to make it to the 'big leagues'. With the weight of their expectations, your desire to make it somehow, your college fund suddenly emptied and the academic pressure placed on your shoulders, everything was already shaping up to be a stressful time. But now, there are letters, weird circumstances, a dead body, and suddenly, you're thrown into a game that you never knew was playing.

Everything powerful harbours secrets. Are you willing to uncover them?

redwood is rated 16+ for sexual content, violence, substance abuse, and more. everything will be tagged accordingly before the chapter containing it.

━ the game ━

You play as ‘the pledge’, a new recruit to the universities’ houses, of which there are five. You have to impress the house’s inhabitants and compete against the others who are fighting for the same spot that you are.

You can choose your approach to the game and how you treat your competitors. Every gameplay is unique, as most choices leave an impact.

While your character competes for their spot in a ‘House’, they will also be attempting to uncover the secrets that are buried within. Make sure to balance school, pledging and mystery hunting! It’s harder than you’d think.

━ genre(s) ━

mystery. coming of age. romance.

━ features. ━

a fully customisable MC, including choice of gender, name, sexual orientation, dietary requirements, house, pronouns, race, appearance and personality.

choose your relationship with your family members, friends, competitors and romantic interests!

a story that relies heavily on your choices, every playthrough is different.

GoC love interests that are optional, play with an option of romance or without!

build relationships with others and create enemies or allies.

get to the bottom of your family’s history, and how it intertwines with redwood.

━ romance options. ━

not only are there four main romance options, but you also have the ability to have romantic/sexual encounters with others.

⇢ max bennett

Max Bennett was born with a silver spoon in their mouth but never learnt how to use it, raised by their quirky auntie in upstate New York. With a tall stature and thick black hair, they are the epitome of a dream indie movie star. They applied to Redwood because of its prestige and their desire to follow in their parents footsteps. They never expected to meet you, especially considering their history with the Houses.

Maximilian Bennett is 6’4, with messy black hair, pale skin, green eyes and a beauty mark on his left cheek.

Maxine Bennett is 5’11, with her black hair cut into a bob, a beauty mark above her right eyebrow, and a slim build.

⇢ sam washington

Sam Washington is always looking for the next scoop and they think they’ll find it in you. Born to a family of media moguls, Sam is wishing to find their independence at Redwood. They’ve been given the scoop on the Houses and they could be a good ally to have due to their connections and charisma, although they would not blame you if you want to be something more.

Samson Washington is 6’2, with short curly brown hair, hazel eyes, a broad build, glasses (although he prefers contacts) and a beauty mark under his right eye.

Samantha Washington is 5’7, with long curly lighter brown hair, a single beauty mark under her left eye, a curvier build, glasses (because she hates contacts) and full lips.

⇢ frankie blake

Frankie Blake is the child of a major fashion designer and your also new roommate, although their family is known for being extravagant and ostentatious, they are the complete opposite. An art enthusiast who is looking for their next muse, and the quirk of your smile is enough to inspire a thousand drawings. They are a Redwood legacy and they’re willing to show you around, for a price of course. Nothing comes for free. Frankie has dark brown skin that is covered in freckles, with kinky hair and the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

Francis Blake is 5’10 with short twist outs, a toned build, freckles and a wardrobe filled with shorts.

Frances Blake is 5’4 with long, back length braids that are decorated with gold accessories, a slim build and freckles.

⇢ ali nakamura

Ali Nakamura is the only child of their politician mother and is already well-established at Redwood. They seem perfectly pleasant in public, however it is your first day at Redwood and you have already presented yourself as a rival. Through no fault of your own, that’s what you insist anyways. They have silky, dyed blond hair, well-groomed black eyebrows and an affinity for neutral tones. Although they insist on their aloof demeanour, you occasionally catch them looking at you with a look you can’t decipher.

Alistair Nakamura is 6’0, with an average build, tan skin, short honey blond hair with dark eyes.

Alison Nakamura is 5’5, with an average build, tan skin, shoulder-length sunflower blonde hair and dark eyes.

#redwood game #interactive fiction #if #redwood if #interactive novel #choice of games #cog #demo #dashingdon #dashingdon wip #hosted games

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yril-writes · 10 months

Text

— CHAPSTICK

synopsis ; a recent video you just watched showed these lipsticks that had different flavours, it piqued your interest and decided to order some to try it on, until then it started going south.

scenario ; yuuji and sukuna are siblings but not just that but both of them are your boyfriends! this au is set in a college life with you with no curses, just a normal setting.

type ; drabble

include/s ; sukuna & yuuji

pairing/s ; character × fl! reader

genre ; fluff, wholesome and with a hint of spice

word count ; 0.9k

There was this video where lipstick had different kinds of flavour, it intrigued you and went ahead to buy two different flavors. Since you weren't much of a fan of putting on normal lipstick where you unconsciously taste it only to give off a bitter like after taste. On to the flavours that you choose is strawberry, in a shade of a glossy red rose and the other one is lemon, it has a transparent base but still gives off a nice gloss. Looking at the reviews in the shop of the chapsticks, both of these flavours are their best seller and had good reviews, so without any hesitations you were immediately tempted to buy it. It didn't take too long until the package arrived in the apartment you shared with the Itadori twins which was sponsored by your relative, the Itadori siblings immediately were curious about the package that just arrived and watched you open it only to reveal the flavoured chapsticks. "Lipsticks again, (Y/N)?" Sukuna sighed in disbelief and scurried his way back to his beloved couch. The other twin, Itadori Yuuji decided to stay. He was curious about those chapsticks you bought and noticed that it had flavours, cheerfully he opened one up and the smell of strawberry filled his nostrils, it was a pleasant scent indeed. "It smells like a strawberry! I thought it was just a design, does it taste like strawberry as well, (Y/N)?" Giving him a nod as a response, Yuuji didn't hesitate to apply some to his lips, by that he can confirm that the gloss is indeed edible and kept on applying it to his lips.

Puckering his lips up, with his tongue sliding over the top of his lips looks too good to even watch him do it. Tempted at the sight, slowly adjusting your position, to be near Yuuji. Even before he could even react, you've already planted your lips over his. The sweet scent of strawberry whiffs through your nostrils and the sweet and sour taste of the strawberry flavoured chapstick rolls to your taste buds. Placing both of your hands over the back of his neck as if pulling him even closer and deepening the kiss, his rugged breathing and warmth can be heard and felt, you couldn't help yourself to moan slightly under your breath. (Tastes so sweet...) it didn't take too long for the chapstick on Yuuji's lips to fade due to the amount of kissing plus tasting. It didn't even look kissing anymore, it's as if both of you were craving not only for the flavour but at each other. Pulling apart from Yuuji, you both stared at each other with these lustful eyes not even batting an eye to Sukuna who has been watching them from the start. "If the both of you kept going, I would've felt jealous. Did you forget that I am still here?" with an annoyed toned Sukuna sighs in disbelief. But you could only look at him with those eyes of yours, as if you wanted more and you did. Grabbing the other chapstick from the box, you made your way towards Sukuna sitting on a couch across the room, sitting on his lap comfortably, you gently slide the chapstick onto his lips, spreading it throughout to give the right amount. The lemon chapstick didn't have that much color, since it's transparent it only made Sukuna's lips glossier and juicy. Just staring at those lips of his made you think how it will taste like, especially on his lips at that. "If you're going to have a taste, then get to it." slightly tugging on the roots of your hair and pulling you closer, enough for you to smell the scent of lemons on his lips. You couldn't hold it anymore, starting with a peck on the lips, some of the chapstick was transferred to yours, sliding your tongue on your upper lip, the taste of sour lemons filled your mouth, the taste of it was enough to make you drool and even want more. "Just a peck? You went away devouring Yuuji's lips and I got a peck?" he says as he pretends to even sulk, looking to the side with his eyes closed. (Is this grown ass man really sulking right now? Jeez...) placing both of your palms on his cheek, slowly turning his head in your direction now facing you, Sukuna opens his eyes at the sight where you are seen to be kissing him,

Sukuna slightly opens his mouth and tongues soon intertwine, as if playing, the flavours of lemon was present at every exchange of the deep kiss until the chapstick on his lips soon fade. (Strawberry and lemon as chapsticks taste so good! And even smells good!) now jumping off from Sukuna's lap, you decided to write a review to that shop about the their chapsticks, leaving Sukuna and Yuuji high on their horses, you were in the zone that you neglected them as they call your name, until Sukuna throws a pillow hitting your head. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" you yelled, throwing back the pillow that he threw, now looking at his direction he looked as if he wanted more and across the room Yuuji looks like a puppy in need of attention as well. The Itadori twins were just left there to dry, but they won't let that. "You started this, (Y/N). How about we finish it all." Yuuji says in a cheerful tone making his way towards the couch and sitting beside Sukuna. "Yeah, why not discover. I bet this can be put to a good use as well, not only here in the lips. Come, let's find out where we can put it to a taste, (Y/N)." Sukuna says in a playful manner with that grin of his paste on his fave, you already know that you're screwed. Like literally screwed.

a/n ; I think Tumblr doesn't like me at all, it's buggy as hell. I wish they would fix this. I can't even copy and paste my own work in and type word for word. Error here and there, my gosh.

tag list ; @sammushy

masterlist

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giuliettagaltieri · 10 months

Text

Project: Pandora

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Synthezoid!Reader

Synopsis: You are experiencing things for the first time and you can't wait to explore what the multiverse has to offer, but for now, you'll start with a messy college dorm room.

Warning: Children having made to witness premarital hand holding and flirting of excruciatingly emotionally constipated adults.

Word Count: 2174

2 of 3

“This is…” Your face twists, trying to find the right word. “Odd.”

You lift your arm, the blanket that Miguel draped on you falls from your shoulder and you watch as goosebumps litter your skin.

Avenger Peter, MJ, and Ned simultaneously inhale sharply through their nose. The ceiling, the cereal box, and fork suddenly looked too interesting.

Miguel clears his throat and reaches to wrap you tightly with the blanket again.

“That’s the result of adrenaline reflex.” Miguel grumbles, turning his eyes to the carpeted floor, away from you and the lamp that illuminated the living room and dining area. “And can you be more careful? Gravity applies to your clothes now.”

“I know, Miguel.” You glare at him as you sink on the couch beside him. You don’t need him to discuss physiology and physics with you. “I just need time to get used to it all.”

He keeps his mouth shut, his eyes softening as he memorizes every curve of your frowning brows.

“So uhm, you feel fine?” MJ cuts the tension. “No trouble breathing? No pain?”

You laugh softly. “What does pain feel anyway?”

Obviously, you know it in theory and experienced it quite a lot emotionally but you never really felt physical pain.

A sharp pinch on your thigh makes you yelp and jump like a startled cat.

The culprit beside you has his eyes deadpanned but the slight curve on his lips told you he enjoyed it way too much.

“Asshole!” You gave Miguel a stink eye, rubbing your poor thigh.

“That’s pain.” Miguel grins at you.

You throw a playful punch on his shoulder but a strange pop has your eyes doubling in size.

“Did I just break a finger?” You almost scream but Miguel keeps the shit eating grin and just grabs your hand, he clicks his tongue multiple times and your heart hammers on your chest. They spent months perfecting your body, the least you could do is take care of it. You watch Miguel lift your hand to his face and brushes your knuckles on his lips.

“Looks like a serious fracture, we might need to amputate it.” You hated how he could make you feel stuff by just altering the timbre of his voice despite uttering such baseless barbaric statement. “You just cracked a knuckle, firefly, stop worrying. If you feel any discomfort anywhere though, you tell me.”

MJ picks at the loose thread on her sweater as her eyes darted between you and Miguel. “They definitely need to go get a room.” She whispers under her breath.

“Agreed.”

Whispered back the two teens beside her.

A loud grumble suddenly travels to their ears. They turn and see you looking at your stomach, your eyes wide, looking absolutely embarrassed. “Uhm, I’m hungry?” Rather than say it, you sound like you are asking for confirmation, which is fair.

Peter immediately snatches his phone to order food.

Ned smiles at you understandingly, you must have been hungry the entire time but did not recognize the feeling. “How about water? Does your mouth feel dry?” Checking your electrolyte level slipped their mind due to multiple reasons, they were marveling at you after taking your vital signs and range of motion.

Miguel reaches and pulls you to him. He brushes his thumb on your lip, his eyes following his movements carefully. “Yeah, she could use a glass of water.” He slips his hand under the blanket to pull your arm and you are about to protest when he pinches your skin again but you choose to stay quiet as he did it gently.

“Is it tented?” Ned asks while rolling a stress ball atop the table.

Miguel meets your eyes and returns your arm inside the blanket. Your body goes hot when he flashes you his sharp canine as he grins. “Nah, perfectly supple and elastic.” The grin gets wider. “We might need to check her temperature again though. She’s running a bit warm.”

You are not stupid. Theoretically, you know how the normal body responds to external stimuli. Miguel holds back another smart comment when you harshly pull your arm from him, too flushed to even bite a retort back.

Ned and MJ watched the exchange with narrowed judging eyes. Watching old people flirt made them a bit queasy.

The next minutes were spent with them telling you about the project and how Dr. Strange aligned your neurons. You wanted to thank the man but they tell you that he has been busy for a week now, trying to ward off an intergalactic entity. Miguel just had to roll his eyes at the mention of the Doctor’s name. Him helping Peter almost break the multiverse was not appreciated by Miguel.

You walk around the apartment as you listen to them talk, mainly to Miguel now, as you let your hands wander on every object you can find, taking in every texture that you come across.

The carpet on your feet was a nice feeling and you are glad you refused the slippers that Ned kindly offered for you to wear.

You see a pile of old books on a corner and you bend down to swipe at the thin layer of dust sitting atop it. You smile so brightly, seeing the mark your finger left. Then you see the coat of dust on your finger tip, the dirt clinging to your skin didn’t feel pleasant at all.

Just in front of your 3D printer, you refuse to call it casket, lies the messy work table of Peter Parker. You wander to it and you read the tiny sticky notes that are stuck on the wall in front of the desk. Some are newly placed, some a bit older, their edges starting to peel off.

You tilt your head to the side as you realize that they’re a bunch of ideas for his suit upgrades.

“What a clever kid.” You whisper. You smile when you see a tiny error on a formula, creating a cascade of errors on the other notes.

You grab a sticky note and you uncap a ballpen, it took you a while to figure out how to hold it and your handwriting was messy but you managed to correct his error.

The bubble wrap in the corner became the next center of your attention.

Miguel was in the middle of telling the teens about your code when you wander on the couch again. He glances at you for a while and goes back to ignoring you when you place a hand on his enormous arm and rub. He really bulked up, didn’t he?

“Unstable molecules feel weird.” You wiggle your fingers right in front of Miguel’s face, cutting his geek talk. “Feels like this.”

He raises a brow. “Tingly?” He retracts the fabric from his fingertips and lets it rest on his suit. “Huh, guess so. But it’s quite comfortable inside.”

You nod and make a beeline towards the dining table where the teens are.

“Can I?” You ask while pointing to MJ’s sleeve.

“Sure.” She shrugs and offers you her arm as she turns to listen to Miguel trying to explain advanced computer science to them.

You pinch the fabric and smile at the softness of it.

“What’s this material called? I want to wear it everyday, it feels so cozy.”

“It’s uh, cashmere. Pe-Peter got it for me last Christmas.” She briefly points at Peter before using the same hand to cover a cough.

You glance at Peter, who was also listening to Miguel, though his ears looked a bit redder, you can tell despite the dimness of the room.

Ned soon notices you looking at the stress ball resting a couple inches away from his fingers.

“You wanna hold it?” He offers you the toy.

“That’s a stress ball, right?” You take it and squeeze hard. “What’s so relaxing about this?” You raise a brow as the toy only strained your hand.

“You’re just not stressed enough to need it yet.” Miguel sighs. He knows that your muscles would need endurance training but of course he had to taunt you just a bit.

You sassily put a hand on your hip, making a big deal out of everything that Miguel says is almost a habit to you. “And you probably need a truckload of this judging by how you look.”

The kids near you almost scratched the table cloth with their hands that are resting on it by how hard they were trying to keep a straight face.

They mustn’t laugh. Peter can’t lose his place in the Society. Peter can’t lose his place in the Society!

A knock from the front door keeps Miguel from throwing something just as insulting to you.

“I’ll get it!” Peter volunteers, too happy with the opportunity to get away.

Miguel grumbles to himself, shaking his head.

You smile a little too sweetly at Miguel before turning to Peter who is carrying a bunch of plastic bags that are all hanging on different fingers instead of being all carried by a finger or two, like how they should be?

“Whatever is in those boxes, I want them.” You laugh.

Ned gets up to grab a clean spoon for you, seeing as you won’t be able to use the chopstick just yet.

“I don’t know if you’d like this but I figured that you’d need the carbs and manageable food for now.” Peter says, scratching the back of his head and pushes a steaming hot bowl of congee to you.

“Thank you, Peter.” It smells divine! And you appreciate the soft food, you should give your stomach something easy to digest for the meantime.

Your curiosity is piqued and you open a box before you. “Oh, look at this, Miggy.” You turn to Miguel who is already heading to where you are standing. “Fried rice.” You thank Ned when he hands you a spoon. “You used to make this when you were particularly lazy.”

He hums. “I don’t cook anymore.”

Peter asks you two to join them at the table and you do.

“They didn’t have empanadas- uh…I heard you liked them!” Peter starts to sweat under Miguel’s stern gaze. “But uh, they have fried dumplings. In-in case you wanna try some.” He pushes the box to Miguel.

You scoop a spoonful of congee to your mouth, after being reminded by Miguel to blow on your food. You hated how he made you feel like a toddler just now. But you forget that you were pissed just a second ago when the rice porridge lands on your waiting tongue and you almost melt at the flavor. In fact, it looks like you actually are. They all watch you close your eyes, still chewing, and collapse on the chair dramatically.

“It’s so unfair that you all get to eat these for years, especially Miguel.” You pat Miguel’s shoulder when he curses at you in Spanish. “It’s okay, Miggy. You aged like fine wine, don’t get worked up.”

You take another spoonful, ignoring Miguel’s incomprehensible expression.

The night ends with you listening to Peter trying to explain or defend himself from Miguel’s accusations for the whole multiverse disturbance thing.

You were biased, of course.

It is pretty normal to take his side. Peter’s side.

But nevertheless, you and Miguel thanked the three of them, even Dr. Strange. Through a portal. Made of magic. Wasn’t weird at all.

When Miguel told them that he’ll be taking you with him to the HQ, they didn’t really go against it, a knowing smile plastered on their faces when Miguel says that the tech there is better in monitoring your state.

“I will definitely visit.” You say as you release MJ from your embrace and move to hug Ned who is tearing up a bit. “I’ll come so often that you’ll be sick of me.”

Lastly, there’s Peter. You hug the kid tightly. “Thank you for taking the time to bring me back to him.”

He hugs you back, just as tight. “I should be the one thanking you.” He could only wish that Tony was there to witness everything.

“He’s proud of you, I just know it.”

You return to Miguel’s side and you smile at them one last time before turning to step into the portal.

“Wait!” Peter yells.

Miguel raises a brow at him, his large hand encasing yours in a gentle hold.

“Uhm.” Peter’s eyes darted from you to Miguel and back again.

“Spit it out, kid.” Miguel snaps.

Peter crosses his arms, awkwardly.

“I know you two are-are excited and y-you miss each other so much.” He stutters out. “But it’s probably not a good idea to—” He grimaces, as if saying it is physically hurting him. “—you know.”

His hands flew everywhere, making you and Miguel look at each other, silently asking if the other is picking up what the hell the kid’s saying.

Peter sighs, defeated. “You shouldn’t…test her body’s limitations in one night-”

“Yeah, we get it.” Miguel says quickly while he pushes your confused ass to the portal.

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spider verse #atsv #project: galatea

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ag-writes-stuff · 3 months

Text

I Would Have Followed You

Summary: This was never meant to be anything, was never actually anything if you asked Rafe Cameron. This is the story of the almost-relationship between him and you. Was it love?

Click below for the beginning of this story. If not, continue on! Thank you.

Chapter One.

The first time you ever locked eyes with Rafe Cameron was in a passing moment. It took you years to realize that life is just a succession of these so-called passing moments. If it’s a painful moment, it will pass. If it’s a perfect moment, it will also pass.

That particular moment occurred on one of the hottest days of summer. Even with the coastal breeze the heat in North Carolina was brutal.

Unfortunately for you, it was also senior year move-in day which meant carrying boxes up two flights of stairs for hours. Usually, one of your parents would be in tow, but your mom was called into work last minute and your dad wasn’t always the most reliable. So, you had to do it all yourself. Your mom was a pediatric surgeon. When you were growing up, she transferred hospitals every few years until she finally landed a position at Duke. Your dad’s career as a writer was flexible, so you were able to move wherever your mom needed you to. Quickly after publishing his first novel your dad became a New York Times Best Selling Author. Little did you know, that would be the first and last book he ever wrote. His agent dropped him after he missed his deadline four times. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't write. He started drinking a lot, mostly while your mom was at work. Eventually she had enough of it and asked him to move out.

When you were younger, you used to admire your parents’ relationship. Things you used to consider “gross”, You now realize were beautiful. Kisses in the car, holding hands in restaurants, cuddling on the couch. How can two people go from not being able to get enough of each other to never wanting to speak again? You'd never been in love, so you guessed you'd wouldn't know... The wood creaked under your feet as you started down the stairs for what would be your last trip from the car to apartment. You noticed that the parking lot was now full of students with their parents, unloading cars, breaking down boxes and saying their goodbyes. You also couldn’t help but miss yours.

Ascent Student Living was no different than any other off-campus apartment complex. It was new and made up of eight buildings, all different shades of blues and greens. One of your favorite parts of living at the beach was that everything was prettier. The architecture of most buildings and shopping centers mimicked the aesthetic of a small beach town and even though we were a good twenty minutes from the ocean, the bright colors and palm trees made it feel closer. When you were applying to colleges, you were so excited to finally get to decide where you lived instead of following your mom up and down the east coast. The options were endless, but decided to stay in North Carolina a little while longer. You settled on Wilmington College where you’d major in English and minor in journalism. Then after you graduated, maybe you’d move to New York City and become a writer. A girl could dream...

After the weight of choosing a school was lifted, you finally started to enjoy what you had left of senior year— that’s when you met Carter. Carter was the first crush you had since middle school. He had brown hair and and these piercing hazel eyes that made you uneasy. Some of your friends said he looked like Christian Bale. You never told him you thought so because you didn’t need to feed his ego any more than you already had.

Carter was, in ways, a breath of fresh air. He made you both excited and nervous at the same time. The nights you spent with him were adrenaline-pumping because you never knew what came next. He asked you to senior prom and showed up at your house with his mom and a corsage that didn’t match the dress, but of course you wore it anyway. You lost your virginity that night. You thought it would be so much more different. You were expecting this grand, romantic gesture and instead it was just a few minutes in a spare bedroom at your friend’s house that resulted in a broken condom.

A few weeks later, your parents sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. You were angry with them for ruining the summer before you went away to college. You had finally made it to your semi-adult life, and they were ripping the rug right out from under you at the time you needed stability the most. For the rest of the summer, you had sex with Carter whenever you could, while both of your parents were at work, in cars in parking lots, at parties, after parties. You were willing to do it whenever and wherever because you thought it would make him love you and you were desperate not to be alone.

Spoiler alert: sex never makes someone love you.

You spent the next year hoping you’d become more than a hook-up and the year after that trying to meet someone who compared to him. Fast forward to the middle of sophomore year when you decided to swear off dating until you graduated college, life got so much better when you stopped looking for love in every guy you met. You started to enjoy school, meet new friends and finally make peace with your parents’ divorce.

You lifted the last box out of your car, closed the trunk and headed up the stairs to the second-floor apartment. Every few seconds you alternated looking down at your feet and then straight ahead to make sure you didn’t miss a step and trip.

As you turned your gaze, your eyes landed on him, and you couldn't help but notice his impressive stature. He stood tall and upright, exuding confidence with his broad and muscular build. His blond hair was tucked neatly under a backward cap, accentuating his chiseled facial features. He wore a grey t-shirt, which seemed to have been washed and dried numerous times, but still clung to his form in a flattering way. The casual attire and relaxed demeanor only added to his allure, making him seem approachable yet intriguing.

“Need some help with that?” he asked.

“No, I’m okay.”

You finally made eye contact with him. His blue eyes were familiar, like you’d looked into them before.

“That’s me right there.” You managed to stick your elbow out and point in the direction of the door that said 3221.

“See you around then, neighbor.”

You didn’t know his name, but you really wish you did. You wish you knew everything about him.

You walked inside of your apartments to your roommates, Lauren and Jordan, blasting music and laughing in the kitchen together. Before you joined them, you set the last box down in your bedroom. The rest of the unpacking could wait until tomorrow.

“Did you see all the hot guys in the parking lot? I’m so glad we got into Ascent. I heard so many people were waitlisted.” Lauren said.

“Waitlisted for a college apartment complex?” Jordan asked. “That’s insane. It’s not Harvard.”

You met Lauren Ellis and Jordan Coleman when you all got assigned the worst freshman dorm, Moore Hall. It was the only high rise on campus that hadn’t been torn down and rebuilt yet. Luckily you all were among the last people to live there. And you'd like to think your experience that was Moore Hell, as you called it, made you closer. The three of you were so different yet fit together so perfectly.

Moving around so much when you were younger prevented you from forming long-lasting friendships. You found it easier to avoid getting emotionally invested in people that you knew you’d have to say goodbye to eventually. Lauren and Jordan provided you with a new perspective on friendship. They were a source of comfort and support during both the happy and trying times, and they made you realize you were missing out on such an important bond.

“I call dibs on the super tanned one with the longboard!” Lauren laughed.

“You act like that’s not a description of basically every guy on campus,” Jordan replied.

“Just wait until you see who I’m talking about,” Lauren opened the refrigerator and tossed us each a Twisted Tea. “Courtesy of my parents, our congratulatory move-in present was a fully-stocked bar.”

“Can they just adopt me already?” you laughed, even though you weren't joking. “Tell us more about the longboard guy.”

“Okay, so you’ll never believe this, but he was trying to get into our apartment this morning. He lives in the unit above us and for a solid ten minutes was banging on the door and yelling that his key fob wasn’t working. When I finally opened it, he realized he got the unit numbers mixed up and was so embarrassed. He did ask for my number though and already texted me, so I’d call that a win.”

“I hope his roommates are hot!” Jordan shouted from her room.

“What’re you doing in there?” you replied. “It’s pregame time, unpacking can wait.”

“Well, our summer writing assignment can’t.”

“Shit.”

You grabbed your Twisted Tea and headed to your room, shutting the door behind you. You looked around at the progress you made today, everything was pretty much in its place besides a few pieces of wall art you still needed to hang. You sat down at the cheap IKEA desk that Ascent provided each bedroom with, opened your laptop and pulled up the assignment. You chose English as your major because you'd always loved to write. Since you hadn't grown up with siblings, you write fictional stories and kept journals to occupy yourself.

You finished the assignment in record time and then made your way into the bathroom to get yourself ready for your first night out as seniors. In the mirror, you stared at the girl looking back at you. She had never been super confident in herself, but she was beautiful. She just hadn't heard that from anyone but her own parents of course.

After you finished your makeup, you scanned the closet for an outfit to wear. You wanted to look good but not draw too much attention to yourself and settled on a pair of denim shorts, a white crop top with a lettuce hem and your go-to shoe Converse.

On Thursday, it was tradition that every student made their way over the bridge to Wrightsville’s favorite sports bar, Jerry’s. So, you took a few shots, piled into an Uber and made your way to kick off what you hoped would be an amazing senior year.

“Can I get you a drink?” are six words every 21-year-old wants to hear. You spun around and was suddenly face-to-face with the guy from the stairwell.

“Sure.” You played it cool.

“Two Mich Ultras.” he said, sliding the bartender cash.

“Bold of you to assume I’m a beer girl.” You tried to flirt.

“Well, you’re holding an empty bottle and it’s dollar beer night, so it wasn’t really much of a stretch.” He laughed a little before chugging the rest of his beer and placed it on the sticky bar. You could feel your face go flush.

“I know, I was just testing you,” You raised an eyebrow. “Observant, I like it.”

“I was surprised to see you’re drinking beer though, most girls still opt for a vodka cran even on dollar beer night.”

“If I drink liquor the night usually looks a lot different for me. I want to at least remember the first night of senior year you know?”

“So, a senior huh? I would’ve guessed younger. What’re you studying?”

“English and journalism. You?”

“I’m in the business program but I really want to get into sports broadcasting, so I considered journalism. I might pick up a minor this year if I can fit it in before graduation.”

“Oh, you’re a senior? I would’ve guessed younger.” You threw his own joke back at him. “Touché. Are you not into younger guys?” The corner of his mouth curled slightly into a smirk. It was at that moment you knew you were in trouble.

“Thanks for the drink,” You smiled. “I better go find my friends though.”

“Rafe Cameron,” he stuck out his hand. “Most people call me Cameron.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Most people call me Y/N.” you turned around and began to walk away.

“See you around, Y/L/N!” he called after you.

~~~

“Maybe I should text longboard guy and see if they want to come down to post-game.” Lauren slurred as you walked into your shared apartment.

“Why don’t we save it, it’s only the first night.”

“Too late. He replied! He and his roommates are coming down.” She interrupted you before you could finish.

“Ooh, I’m manifesting that the other two roommates are just as hot so there’s one for each of us!” Jordan laughed.

Lauren pulled out a bottle of tequila, limes and poured each of us a shot. Even though you desperately wanted to go to bed, you knew you couldn’t say no.

“Here’s to the father, the son, and the tequila chilled. Hope to God this doesn’t get us killed. Remember that if he won’t, his best friend will. Always remember to take your pill. Now let’s go get fucking drilled.”

We raised our shot glasses, downed the tequila, and quickly followed them up with limes. Seconds later, the front door opened and in walked three tall guys wearing almost identical outfits. You watched as the last of them shut the door behind him. As soon as he turned around, you locked eyes again.

Rafe Cameron.

“Guys! This is Topper, Kelce and Rafe. They live right above us.” Lauren introduced them. Jordan and you awkwardly waved from the kitchen as you grabbed two drinks from the fridge.

Topper looked like he was plucked out of a Billabong campaign. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and a tan that probably lasted year-round. You could tell he grew up at the beach and had no intention of ever leaving. Kelce was the opposite, his dark complexion sported a buzz cut and a little bit of facial hair and he screamed of elegance with every movement.

Lauren insisted on making the guys drinks, even though they came with a full case of Miller Lite. While she did that, Jordan and you got comfortable on the couch and set up a game of Circle of Death.

“Oh, I’m in,” Topper joined us.

Everyone made their way to the couch and Jordan reminded everyone of the rules. Halfway through the first round you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. As you walked back down the hall that connected your bedroom to the kitchen, you were stopped by Rafe. His body shifted so that it was blocking you from finding a way out of the hallway and the situation.

“Are you just going to pretend like you don’t know me?” he asked.

“I mean, I don’t really.” You reminded him.

“So that moment back at the bar never happened?”

“If you consider a beer and a two-minute-long conversation a moment then you probably think this is our first date.”

“Good one, but I don’t date.”

“They never do.”

“What’s in here?” he brushed past you and let himself into your room.

“My bedroom, obviously.” You rolled your eyes.

He looked around the room, picking up picture frames and examining them one by one. You couldn’t believe Rafe Cameron was in your bedroom. You felt your heart rate increasing by the second and with a newfound drunk confidence, you closed the bedroom door behind you. He looked up and his big blue eyes felt like they could see right through you. Taking the hint, he made his way closer to you and placed one hand on your lower back and the other on your face. Gently, his thumb stroked your cheek, and you could feel the rest of his hand grasp the back of your neck. Goosebumps.

When your lips finally touched it was like they had met before.

First kisses can be two things: terrible or incredible. Your first kiss was terrible. You were 15 and it was New Year’s Eve. You remember tasting toothpaste on his tongue and thinking he’d brushed his teeth to be courteous. It turns out he was wasted and had been throwing up in the bathroom right before the ball dropped.

Then, there was your first good kiss. It was like a scene out of any coming-of-age movie or book made in the past ten years. One Saturday night your senior year of high school you stayed out past curfew. “Crazy Rap” by Afroman was playing on the Bluetooth speaker while we passed around whiskey and a bottle of Dr. Pepper as a chaser. You knew it was wrong to let Carter drive you home after he drank but you were 17 and didn't always make the best decisions. He parked his car at the top of your driveway so your parents wouldn't hear the engine, then he kissed you. You can still remember the way your entire body lit up, like you had been going through life on auto-pilot until that very moment.

That’s not what this first kiss with Rafe felt like. Kissing him felt familiar, like your lips were puzzle pieces that fit together just right. He didn’t make you nervous in the way Carter used to. He made you feel comfortable. He made you feel at home.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #outer banks #obx #Spotify

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