#I should've connected the dots

[witchcraftingboop]

I was today years old when my grandmother finally revealed how to pronounce her name... my grandfather called her by the wrong name for 12+ years and passed the pronunciation down to his sibling, nephews, son, and granddaughters and this woman said not one word about it. I had to find out from her talking to a cashier about reward points. Good god.

[calkale]

what if there was a shot of slider looking at mav at ices funeral that lingered a little too long and after mav learns he's no longer teaching the daggers he goes to ices grave to tell him but he can't get it out he just falls to his knees at ices headstone and slider comes up behind him and he puts his hand on mavs shoulder before mav stands up and slider pulls him in for a hug and puts his hand on the back of mavs head pulling him in as close as he can and mav tells slider he can't do this without ice he's never going to fly again and slider tells him thats bullshit mav is the one to decide when he's done not him not ice not cyclone not anyone and he's the only way these kids are gonna survive the mission

[respectthepetty]

Plant Daddy Dome

Round 3 of I-Should've-Just-Binged-This-When-It-Was-Finished!

Find Round 1 and Round 2 here.

Many people have pointed out that the same flower Khatha first sees Dome with is the same flower that Dome gives Anthika. This flower, Lily of the valley, represents rebirth and happiness. The lotus on Anthika's card and tattoo also represents rebirth.

However, Lily of the valley is a very biblical flower. The flower symbolizes the tears Eve cried when she was banished from Eden, the flower is used for gauging someone's pureness at heaven's gate, and it's poisonous.

Adam & Eve

In the bible, Adam and Eve aren't separated. They are banished from Eden, but Midnight Museum offering up the tale with the now-humans being separated seems intentional. Throughout this opening sequence, Dome narrates how God won't help those who don't help themselves and how God gives us what we need in unexpected ways.

Because I'm my own worst enemy, Khatha seeing Dome with the Lily of valley as Dome exits the flower shop would be similar to Adam watching a crying Eve leave the garden of Eden. Dome returns to Eden the shop only to encounter the serpent Anthika who he gives the flowers that represent rebirth and pureness. Ton and Anne should be Adam and Eve, but...Khatha is immortal. We don't know how long he has been immortal. If he was lonely, a gift from a God could have come in a small boat. However, these two could have done something to upset God, and they were separated.

Cursed Objects

June told Khatha they are similar. She didn't state how, but June's grief over her betrayal of her lover drowned her and made her a ghost. June's cursed object was the wedding dress. When Dome entered Zone 16, the dress was the first item to go missing (the mannequin is no longer wearing the dress).

The typewriter was the next to start acting out

When Jib and his crew rob the museum, all the remaining cursed items were taken

June commented that the moths were the only objects that were alive, and Anthika told Ton he didn't deserve life.

However, June, who is attached to the dress, is alive. The writer who couldn't finish his story was attached to the typewriter. Ton had a heartbeat and so did Anne.

These objects aren't objects. They are people who have been cursed...through their own doing. That's the curse. God won't help them until they help themselves. June said immortality is a curse, and her and Khatha are the same. Khatha said he wasn't cursed, but at the end of episode six, who doesn't have a heartbeat? Dome.

What if Adam and Eve were banished from the garden and separated, not just in space but time. Both cursed, but one can never die, and the other never really alive.

And what if they have what they need to not be cursed since God delivers salvation in unexpected ways?

Stray Thoughts

Khatha offered Ton controlled freedom. He told Ton that he had to go back to the museum but he didn't have to stay contained in Zone 16. June is currently living this situation, but why is Triphop there? In the pilot, Triphop exhibited some supernatural powers and the shadow people lurked around him.

Is he also cursed and that is why his grandfather brought him to the museum?

The kids in the fifth episode (salt) transported to Anthika's place, where we saw the salt lady and the piano teacher merge into Anthika. The kid in the fourth episode (evil round stone) ran to her place, and the other kid had the same tattoo as her. The kid stated they needed to tell the museum owner about the stone. The incident that happened in episode four was briefly mentioned in episode five.

Tay's character told Anthika he had tested Dome several times. Jib wasn't the one to pick up the museum's card in the alley; it was a gloved hand. The antique shop owner stated he wasn't purchasing the stolen goods, but a MAN had left the lotus card in case anyone wanted to sale some odd items. Dome saw an evil presence in the mirror.

Tay's character made sure Jib got the card to rob the museum. He made sure that the cursed items would find their way out into the world (with no intention of getting them himself except for the bbq body), so they would test Dome. Also, we know Anthika, and possibly by extension Tay's character, can change appearances, so have they impersonated other characters?

The issue with the tests are the human aspect of them. Anthika only saw Ton as an object. The salt lady and the piano teacher (who were possibly Anthika) only saw the daughter and stepmother as pawns in their game. Anthika is collecting worshipers and sacrifices not people. Anthika wants servants.

Khatha worried about what would happen to the boy with the stone when Bam said he would go to jail for murder. It seemed as if Dome resurrected Rin to give Moth what he wanted. Dome and Khatha helped the writer finish his story. Khatha saw Ton's humanity.

Anthika's followers were in maid outfits and asking people if they were happy or felt like they belonged. The stories so far have dealt with loss of love, finding happiness, and a sense of belonging, but Anthika is offering an escape from all of that.

I don't think Dome is an alien, but if he is, is he showing that humanity is worth the hassle?

And the way to beat this new god is leaning into the human parts of themselves. They must love each other and work as a group. They must find happiness.

Because to beat a god, Dome and Khatha have to be human. Will Khatha have to give up his immortality (a rib) to make Dome human since God helps us differently than what we expect?

[bredforloyalty]

watched some of the always sunny dub because you know me i like to uuhhh dub it up all over the place you know how i get. and first impression was it sucks major ass, second impression it could be worse but something about it was really fucking with me and i figured it out: the guy that does dennis is the same guy who did dean

[nickelwick]

Not to mention he literally uses a scythe for a weapon...

Cole is so associated with death it makes my head hurt that no one’s really done anything with it (especially the showrunners I think they forgot)

he was a fucking ghost for three whole seasons a fucking ghost I don’t even have any other way to elaborate on that because that should I feal like enough to back up my point and also his mom the previous master of earth is also a ghost bc she’s dead

his element is earth which you think would be associated with plants and life and shit but no. His main colour is black there are no ties with him and nature just what’s below the ground (mostly rocks) but yk what’s also below the ground, specially six feat bellow ground? Dead peaple and yk what peaple wear when they put those dead peaple in the ground black

[twili--link]

Ever since I realized my non-binary-ness I've slapped they / them on pretty much every oc I got in my head.

It feels cathartic tbh.

For the first time in my life when Ive got confidence in my ocs and even am thinking of making self-sona. I've always avoided it cuz I was like "this isn't me" but I could never place why.

It took someone telling me, rather a video, anyone can transition at any time. And that my dysphoria of my chest isn't anything to be ashamed of. It's a little overwhelming and I'm still slowly exploring myself, but I know that I'm starting to feel like "me".

[luveline]

that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵

Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?

im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem

“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table. 

“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears. 

“Useless.” 

“Who, me or you?” 

“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.” 

You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone. 

He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks. 

“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.” 

He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter. 

He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks. 

You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.” 

“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?” 

“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder. 

“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger. 

“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts. 

“You okay?” 

“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle. 

Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly. 

Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure. 

He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.” 

“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly. 

You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you. 

You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully. 

For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away. 

“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.” 

“No, it's okay.” 

He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.” 

“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.” 

You have a quick recovery rate, evidently. 

[arlertwhore]

draft #1: sneaky link series, pt. 7

completed draft - not a part, a draft - meaning there is technically no pt 7. i have no issues with people taking it as pt 7though.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.

warning(s): angsty, argument / breakup, fluff, smut, scissoring, pussy eating, fingering, spitting, hair-pulling, unedited.

synopsis: Despite your admission of feelings, Paige still wants to keep you as her secret. However, as the threat of discovery looms and you grow close with someone else, she jealously realizes she doesn't want anyone to think you don't belong to her. Even if you remain a secret, you are undeniably hers.

word count: 7.1k (what happens when ana's creativity fights to not fight)

Author Note: first ever draft i'm dropping AH! i'm so weirded out that i'm leaving this series unfinished (for now) and posting something this trash, but i think its what best for me. like i said, this isn't an official pt . 7, it's just a draft, but i have no issue if i get an inbox we can talk about like its an off pt 7 yk?? you guys are also so free to leave ideas for pt. 8 and 7 in my dms, inbox, etc.. so if i return i can get back into the groove!

Paige, after a week of ghosting, suddenly texts: "Good News", and despite being frustrated with her, you're desperate for a study break in studying for your last exam of the year and some positivity, so you quickly respond: "?"

She tells you her old friend from Minnesota, Serena, is in town for the week at a hotel while her soccer team plays Connecticut, and she's allowing Paige to use the hotel room while she's away due to her losing a bet.

You respond with a terse "Cool", and Paige's response hangs in the air, marked by those ominous three dots. After an agonizing pause, her next text arrives: "See you by tomorrow night?"

And although you're betraying every emotion you've had at the frustration of paige ghosting you the whole week, you say, "yeah."

You felt like a total idiot for believing that perhaps now that she'd confessed, Paige would stop running from it. You should've been wiser, given your history with Paige, but the thrilling days that followed your vulnerable confession of feelings deceived you. They were a dizzying whirlwind of happiness, lulling you into a false sense of security, and masking the reality of her true intentions.

You and Paige had a fast romance, resembling a newlywed couple's bliss. You strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood, enjoyed family movie nights, and explored the mall together. She even surprised you with intimate gifts, like delicate lingerie, which she eagerly removed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those days were filled with laughter, love, and a sense of security, free from the fear of rejection that once plagued you. Your connection deepened so much that Paige even let you take her with her strap, a thrilling milestone in your relationship.

The experience was magical, but as the school week began, reality hit hard, and Paige, as she always did, resumed the cycle. She seemed to have perfected the art of creating distance. Her texts became short and infrequent, she stopped answering your calls, and just ghosted you.

You were crushed: you made it clear on the week she did ghost you that you hated when she did that, and the fact she ignored your pleas and chose to cowardly avoid everything was heartbreaking. But at least you had your new roommate, Maggie, to distract you. After growing up with a wayward sister, Maggie was your first taste of what a healthy sibling relationship could be like. She was everything you weren’t—energetic, popular, outgoing, and the life of every party—your polar opposite, and her presence brought a refreshing contrast to your life.

She filled your evenings with wild stories of campus drama and an endless supply of party interesting anecdotes. And also, piping hot gossip that you were more than amused by until one night, when Maggie stumbled into your room back from a party, reeking of alcohol and giggling uncontrollably.

"Paige Bueckers, aka Ms. Hollywood, is allegedly hooking up with some mysterious girl on campus who claims to be straight."

Your heart skipped a beat: you had never claimed to straight before. 

And also, both of your entire life's focus had been on your careers, and this rumor had potentially to be extremely damaging to your professional prospects. Especially for you — you had worked tirelessly to build a respectable image, and the thought of being linked to Paige's scandalous behavior was daunting.

You played it cool, dismissing the rumor with a nonchalant laugh: "Oh, really? People say crazy things." But inside, you were turmoil-stricken, unable to reveal the truth to Maggie due to Paige's strict secrecy and dislike of her for being a blabbermouth.

Maggie shrugged, "Well, Paige is in trouble; social media's onto her, and they're searching for her mystery girl. Apparently, they even go clubbing together." Your heart sank, knowing this was all too true. As exams approached, you pushed aside the rumors and pretended to be too busy to care, all while secretly suffering in silence, worried about the potential fallout on your career.

So, when you pulled up to "Serena's" hotel the next day, really Paige's place, you were exhausted, beaten down by her behavior, the looming rumors, and the fact that you had probably bombed your exam that night. You couldn't have been acting more out of character, bursting through the hotel door and pushing past Paige, who stood awaiting your acknowledgment in the foyer.

"Is there anything to drink? Maggie drank every last drop of alcohol in the house." you called out, voice laced with desperation and a hint of frustration, as if the scarcity of alcohol was the final straw in a long series of disappointments.

"Me?" she whispered softly as she crept up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your waist with a gentle kiss to your neck. "Or Rose. In the fridge. You're lucky S I'm sharin'; S got it for us tonight." The warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her kiss sent a buzz down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the fact she was everything wrong these days too.

"Oh, is that why you've been ignoring me? For Rose, Serena —because Paige, if we're being honest," you said, pulling away from her and striding over to the fridge to grab the coveted bottle, "I don't like sharing either."

There's a tense and awkward momentary silence as you stretch to reach the glass from up-top the shelf, and Paige approaches, her hand resting on your lower back, and her breath on your scalp. "We've both been busy - I'm not ignoring you, alright?" she says in a low, defensive murmur, her gentle touch sparking a flutter in your chest, making it hard to maintain your frustration.

Together, you manage to retrieve the glasses, but her gentle gesture  has already disarmed you, and the tension between you shifts, your  defenses slowly dropping, a fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her.

"I miss you even when we're together." you admit, looking up at her with a vulnerable gaze, your eyes locking onto hers as you bare your soul, the weight of your words conveying the constant fear of losing her, the ache of knowing that external pressures and expectations can tear you apart at any moment, and the desperation to hold on to her, even when she's right in front of you.

"I've had the worst fucking week, and- I spent most of my time in bed and not studying, thinking about why I could make you confess, but not... not stay with me." The pain in your voice as you reveal the turmoil that's been consuming you, and the desperate desire for her presence in your life is felt mutually.

"Okay," you whisper shakily, feeling tears prick at the way Paige looks at you, mutually, like she feels the same, but where you can see her resistance up still. And you know you'll never win. You have to stop thinking you can.

"I'll drink my feelings away, and then we're gonna fuck to get it off my mind, and we're never gonna bring this up again." your voice cracks as you surrender to the defeat, seeking temporary escape. 

You pour the rose in both your glasses, and Paige stands back watching, knowing that this is exactly what's happening. She's suppressing her inner fear and has no choice but to acquiesce, and not say anything because she told you her rules at the beginning, and fears if she says anything, it'll be from her heart because it hurts her as much as it hurts you.

She's trapped in her own emotions, unable to express her true feelings, and resigned to silently follow the script you've both agreed upon.

"Cheers," you say, raising your glass, and she looks confused, but reluctantly clinks your glasses together and watches through a slow sip as you down it and then pour yourself some more. The alcohol burns your throat, but you welcome the numbness, trying to dull the ache in your chest.

Paige's gaze lingers, melancholy, but more neutral, as she silently acknowledges the change in you, trying to read to lightheartedly conversate. 

"I see Maggie's introduced you to the lifestyle. You guys still getting close?'' her voice is subtly clad with a hint of detachment, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between you, and onto a more casual topic, but her underlying concern and curiosity are both still evident.

You nod, your eyes focalled on the alchol in your glass. "Yeah, she- we're thinking of doing a double date thing and I was gonna ask you before - y'know, but I guess it's pointless even though she already kinda knows."

You mention the fact - y'know - that you guys just suffered a breakup without even being together in a very odd manner, and that that is the weirdest thing ever. Well, to Paige, the second strangest thing of the night - the third is that how you broached the subject courageously in the first place, and the first: "Maggie knows?" she repeats, "Did you tell her?" a slight accusatory tone to her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets her glass down, her gaze fixed intently on yours, as if searching for any sign of betrayal or deceit.

"Everything." you whisper, jokingly confessing and shaking your head at her ridiculous pissed face (that's also sorta hot). 

Paige glares back at you, serious and you furrow your brows, feeling the alcohol hitting you already. "Shit, what do they put in here?" you ask, checking the label for the alcohol volume, when Paige snatches it out of your reach and demands, "I'm serious, Y/N, what'd you-" 

"Nothing!" you interrupt, exploding, "Nothing, Paige, there is fucking nothing to tell Maggie because all of this," you notion back and forth between you two, face-to-face, "Is nothing! What would I tell her, huh? That you don't text me for days on end and shit like that?" Your words spill out in a frenzy, the alcohol fueling your emotional release in the opposite sense you wanted it to.

Paige hates how that's supposed to comfort her, but instead makes her feel belittled and trivialized as she processes, now reaching for her own glass to forget about what you just told her - that you guys are "nothing." The word stings, a harsh reminder of the boundaries she's set, and the apparent insignificance of their connection in your eyes. She takes a swig, the rose souring her throat, as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions within her.

Pretty soon, because you guys are weird and perfect for each-other, you're in bed and dealing with your conflicting emotions in a thoroughly unproductive way.

Paige kisses down your neck, hands roaming over you with a fervor in her eyes like she had the day at the bar, but now, times ten, and mixed in with something new. As she's stripping off your pants and kissing down your legs, she's still doing that thing where she murmurs vague stuff she knows she can deny if you try to confront her later. "So pretty, baby," she whispers, spreading your legs apart and kissing your calf, "My pretty baby." If not for the desire you have to get fucked out of your own brain, you would probably tell Paige to stop entirely or just stop saying that, but you can't, especially because it at least feels good to pretend that all just didn't happen.

By now, you've had plenty of rose, a lot more than Paige has, and under the spell of alcohol, every sensation she evokes in you feels better than the last. The room spins, and your senses blur, but Paige's touch is the one thing that feels lucid, the one thing that makes sense in this haze of emotions and alcohol.

Before Paige can put her mouth to use on you, the bedroom door is bursted open, and the once muffled call of her name that you're too tipsy to register becomes audible. "Paige! Bro, practice is cancelled, let's go-" she suddenly crashes in, who you can only assume is Serena, and walks in on the compromising sight and exclaims, "Oh shit!" standing there in awe as Paige scrambles for your clothes to cover yourself, furious, "Get out!"

She storms, jumps out of bed and slams the door in her face. The sudden movement makes your head spin, and you wince, the loudness reeling in your head from the alcohol and the abrupt interruption.

When Paige sees you lying still, eyes shut in what looks like anguish, she rushes over to you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she's- she's obviously not supposed to be here as you just heard and-" - "It's fine." you interrupt, gathering your clothes hastily and getting out of bed. Once again, Paige has let you down, and it annoys the both of you equally. "Call me," you say, your tone indifferent, "Or don't."

You go to open the door and rush away before Paige can stop you, but Serena awaits on the other side, and you pause, dissecting her.

You were going to be jealous over this girl until you realize she's like Paige, just a little less tall, a lot less blonde, and skinnier. She isn't her type and she's masculine too, to your delight, and not because of Paige and her not being compatible, but at the fact its your type.

"Sorry," she says cheekily, "I thought she was here to take a break from the team." 

Serena smirks, amused. "I mean, I guess she was." and her eyes linger at the hickey on your neck. The implication is clear, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to brush it off, the alcohol still clouding your judgment.

"Y/N," you laugh, smiling, "I'm sorry, I- I drank all your rose tonight, and you just saw me kind of naked, so probably not a great way to start things off." you chuckle, trying to play off the awkwardness,  and she smiles, exposing pearly whites, and seeming to appreciate your honesty and humor.

"Oh trust me, I couldn't mind less." and you can't figure out which way she means it before she continues again, "But... if you had too much rose, I don't just wanna send you driving home with a stranger. And better yet,  by yourself. You're welcome to stay the night if you want to." her tone is genuine, and you hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before nodding in agreement, grateful for her kindness.

Paige is forced to watch her Serena clearly court you over the night, dressing you in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, and giving you some cold water as you guys converse on the couch in the living room. She does need time to herself after the alcohol begins to wear off and she begins to think about the consequences of her actions, the weight of her emotions, and the reality of her situation with you, but she can't do that logically while hearing you giggle and laugh at everything Serena says.

When she emerges from the bedroom, realizing she can get a rise out of Serena too, you both glance at her like she's intruding once she plops down at the couch in the living room.  Serena laughs. "Yo, are you- you staying here tonight?" she asks, her tone playful, but also hinting at a sense of not wanting Paige too, as if she's making her rethink her choice, and maybe even staking a claim on you, much to Paige's dismay.

"Well, yeah, that's the plan for the week, S," she says, eyes darting between you two, "Unless you guys want the house all to yourselves." Paige's tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm and a dash of curiosity, as if she's testing the waters, gauging the dynamics between you and Serena, and perhaps even hoping to stir up a reaction from one or both of you.

"Maybe we do," you say, leaning back on your couch, and Serena smirks, Paige rolling her eyes. 

"Well, yeah, we're learning lots about each-other. She's a huge soccer fan, and I'm a soccer player." 

Paige scoffs, shaking her head and laughing, "You hate sports. You're a nerd, what do you mean you're a-" - "I am." you interject, "You just don't care enough to know that." you shoot back, Paige's expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she can't fathom you pretending to be something you're not.

Serena glances at between you both, intrigued, and curious. "So, uhh...before I ask what I do, what are you guys?" she asks as if she's navigating a sensitive topic, and her eyes dart between you and Paige, seeking clarification on your relationship status.

"It's complicated," and "Nothing," you both say in simultaneously, and when Paige's eyes narrow and she falls silent, you learn that the word "nothing" triggers her. The air is thick with tension, and Serena's eyes widen, sensing the underlying dynamics at play.

"Nothing?" she raises an eyebrow at Paige. She pauses. "Uhh... well on that case, why don't all three of us go get dinner tomorrow? Paige can bring somebody!" she suggests, hoping by the proposal, it will soften the blow of tension. 

"And... And so can you, even though I'd prefer if you don't." You smile warmly at her attempt to flirt, and also, keep things equal. "What about my friend Maggie Bowman? She's practically my sister, I think you'll love her. She plays soccer too." You offer, trying to lighten the mood and include Maggie, finally, in your real life.

Paige realizes thats how you must've been able to keep up a sports conversation for so long. "Maggie? I mean, c'mon, I-" "I'd love that!" Serena exclaims, "Who're you bringin' Paige? Maybe another hot model girl?" she teases, referencing you, who does that stupid giggle again and it takes Paige all her might not to lash out as she calmly responds, "I don't know, Azzi maybe." 

Serena nods. "That'd work." and Paige grimaces at the fact she'd try for her best-friend too.

The rest of the night is a blur and you come down from the alcohol, all eventually falling asleep on the couches, yet you awaken in bed, next to Paige, like you had become used to as of a week ago. The familiarity of her presence, the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her body engulfing yours stir up a mix of emotions, from comfort to guilt, as you try to process the events of the previous night and the current state of your relationship.

Your body may crave the comfort of her closeness, but your mind knows that giving in to these desires will only lead to more heartache and confusion in the end, so you nudge her. "Off, Paige." you whisper, your voice gentle but firm, trying to extricate yourself from her embrace without hurting her feelings, and subsequently yours.

"Hmm?" she murmurs from sleep, groggily, "No, stay," she slurs, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, as she tightens her hold on you. She has a bad sleeptalking habit, one that you've struggled with in the past to understand if she's just stupid and asleep or genuine.

It's both. And it also seems like old patterns are dying hard. You force yourself up, you exit her arms, and book an Uber back to your house, where Maggie is waiting at the doorstep with coffee. "Where were you all night? Gosh, I was worried sick, I called everybody you knew. Fuck, your friends are dicks." She scolds, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance, as she hands you a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your disheveled appearance.

"Serena's house," you reply, "This friend of mine. She's in for the week while her Soccer team plays Connecticut." 

Maggie's eyes widen. "What? Like The Minnesota Stars playing Connecticut this week? As in the Serena Davis?" She asks, her voice laced with excitement and disbelief, as if she can't quite wrap her head around the fact that you spent the night at the hotel of a famous soccer player.

"I think," you smile, glancing down at your clothes, "I didn't catch her last name, but these are all hers. She's sweet." Maggie's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in utter shock, before she lets out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down like a teenager at a rock concert. "OH. MY. GOD! You're a groupie! You're a total groupie!" she accuses, laughing and teasing, her hands on her hips. You nod, playing along, "Would this groupie still be one if she was inviting you to dinner with Serena? And Paige Bueckers? And maybe Azzi Fudd?" You ask, grinning mischievously, as Maggie continues to freak out, still in disbelief.

Up until 8:00, the confirmed meetup time, is when Maggie energizes.

She talks endlessly about how you're basically living a double life, how you're "rubbing shoulders with soccer royalty", and asks you what it's like to be with Serena, her questions ranging from serious to absurd. On the drive to the restaurant, you have to lecture Maggie on proper etiquette, reminding her to behave herself, not to fan-girl too hard, and to please, for the love of all things good, not ask Serena for a jersey or autograph.

"Just be chill," you advise, shaking your head in amusement as you walk into the restaurant together. You can feel Maggie's excitement radiating like a force, and you know she's struggling to contain her inner fan-girl. You shoot her a warning glance, silently reminding her to play it cool, as you spot Serena, Paige, and Azzi waiting for you at a table, Serena looking radiant and entirely too comfortable in her celebrity skin.

You underestimate just how famous the girls are, especially Serena, but when even your waiter is a little starstruck to see the three of them, telling them each she's seen them in sports, you realize that you're dining with genuine sports royalty.

You each spend the dinner laughing. Maggie and Azzi talk for some time, both self-proclaimed party-girls with mutual friends, and Paige, you, and Serena—mainly Paige and Serena—do their own thing up until you guys have finished eating and chatting, at which point Serena pays the bill with a flourish, her celebrity status evident in the discreet yet deferential service you received all evening. As you prepare to leave, the waiter lingers, still starstruck, and Serena, Paige, and Azzi graciously autograph a napkin for her before you exit.

The night ends with Maggie inviting you all to a party that you and Paige decline, however, Serena opts to go. "Might as well make the most of it while I'm in town." she says with a grin, "But... if you wanna stay at the hotel, Y/N, we'll all see you guys tonight." She winks, eyes sparkling as she ganders at you hungrily.

Azzi, the only person besides you and Paige who knows your history, a member of the "Paige needs to stay focused" club, and also her best-friend knows exactly what'll happen if you guys are left alone together, and once you say, "I think I will, S," Azzi is quick to interject, "Sure you BOTH don't wanna join us? I mean, Y/N, I remember the first time I met you. At a party." she teases you playfully, coaxing a smile out of you.

"And you remember how I embarrassed myself, Azzi?" you ask, laughing. "How could I forget?" the girl chuckles, "I wanna hear this story tonight," Maggie chimes in, and Serena agrees, "Me too." before Azzi just sighs, knowing there's nothing further she can do, and relents with a playful warning. "Just don't get too distracted, you two. We'll see you tonight."

You don't think you'll get distracted as they disappear into the distance, waiting for their Uber, and you and Paige head towards your car, walking down the street together in silence. The only sounds are the crickets chirping and the occasional passing car, but the air is thick with an underlying tension between you and Paige until you speak up.

"Can you drive? I'm too tired, I wanna take a nap." you ask Paige, tossing her your keys. She catches the keys with a hesitant smile, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she nods. "You done being mad at me?" she asks, her voice soft, playful, and a little vulnerable, like she's feeling her way through the moment, trying to gauge if the chill between you has started to return.

"I was never mad at you," you say with a shrug, avoiding her eyes and sounding utterly nonchalant. "I was mad at myself." Your tone is detached, like you're dismissing the whole thing, and your gaze drifts away from hers, leaving a sense of distance between you.

She decides not to go there with you. "So, Maggie's actually chill," she says, changing the subject, her tone light and conversational. "It's kinda weird it's all falling into place now even though we're not, y'know, 'friends' anymore." her words hang in the air, not probing or accusing, just stating a fact.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs, continuing, "Well, Azzi just accepted the fact I'm staying at a hotel with you, which means they all will because she's my best friend. I like Maggie. You like Azzi. And the net is catching on."

You chuckle, amused, and she smiles, playfully teasing. You can't help but think that if you two were still close, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about this situation. It's as if she's only comfortable with this all coming to you both at once because you're no longer under her control.

The thought crosses your mind that sometimes, it takes losing something to realize its value, and you wonder if she's come to appreciate you only now that you're no longer there. You have to remind her you aren't, because with the way her eyes scan your body, your dress, her favorite color on you, black, accentuating your shape perfectly before she licks her lips, adjusting her gray Nike tech, its obvious.

"I do have to say, I like Serena. How come you never mentioned this 'friend' of yours was hot and also really talented?" you laugh, a low throaty sound, and raise a waggling eyebrow that makes Paige herself chuckle smally.

With her laughter, her inability to go there with you ever, you don't expect it at all when she looks you straight in the eye, and boldly smiles, "No you don't. You like me? Remember? Back at your parents' at the park?" there's a dash of challenge to her tone, as if daring you to admit the truth, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint that makes your heart race.

And just like that, you fall back in.

You slip up in your words. "The car's here, Paige," but you swallow the last part, jumbling it into, "C'mere Paige," instead of repeating what you had actually meant to say. Your voice is struck with want, your brain foggy with the familiar haze of passion, as you pull her closer, your hands roaming over her body like they used to, like no time has passed at all.

Within seconds, you're inside of your car, making out with Paige as her big hands grasp your hips, and you can't at all believe yourself one bit — that you're doing it again — that Azzi was right — and letting her fuck her way back into your life again, but you did have unfinished business.

And plus, now, with it all out of the way — you didn't mind just being casual, your resistance crumbling like dust as her lips devour yours, the familiar spark between you, consuming all rational thought.

"Fuck, I-... I never wanna see you like that again, do you hear me?" she growls again, staring intensely with her hand gripping your tits, spilling out the top of your dress. "Never," she repeats firmly and pulls you back in roughly by your ass, making you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you fiercely, tongue claiming yours.

Luckily for you guys, the deserted streets are quiet and your windows have a tint. It would be a shame for anybody to witness how Paige pulls you over her lap in the driver's seat, pulling your dress down and popping your tit into her mouth, sucking on you with hungry groans, tongue flicking against your nipple as she murmurs, "You like that?"

It's obvious in the way your body responds to hers, hips bucking against her thigh, and how you moan, "Y-Yes, shit." She holds your hips firmly, guiding you back and forth sensually, and due to how wet you are, she can feel you soak her knee through her sweatpants. She softly whispers into your ear, "No panties, huh? Of course, such a slut," and she grabs your hair, forcing your head to tilt back as she suckles on your neck. "Let me show Serena who you belong to."

Those times you knew Paige would flat out ignore you or deny it when you brought up her possessiveness and control during sex, were far behind you because you knew she couldn't now, and it was clear she didn't want to, and it was the hottest thing ever.

Her passion and intensity were undeniable, and you were swept up in the fervor of the moment, loving every second of her unbridled desire.

Once she's done doing that, you can't take it. "Wait, I-.. home Paige home, it's too tight in here." Your voice is laced with desperation, pleading with her to stop or to slow down, but your words are overtaken by her intense kisses, your body betraying your mind as you succumb to her fervent touch, the confines of the car suffocating you.

You don't know how you guys even manage getting home: the want is that much. You have so much need in your body that you do the most reckless thing ever known to mankind. As Paige slams on the accelerator, you spread your legs and slip your fingers down between your thighs, rubbing on your clit, in your wetness that makes the lewdest sounds ever, second to when you moan her name breathlessly. "Paigeee, fuck…! Wish this was you, P, mmph, gosh."

She tries not to glance and she tries not to react, but when you extend your arm and put your hand right across her lap, fucking your own fingers into you with wet noises and desperate whimpers before you give her a taste of it, it's like she's possessed.

You're rushing through the hotel to get back to the room, and in the elevator, more kissing continues, but at the door, you guys tap in and are making out furiously, for what feels like hours, hotly, both stepping out of your clothes in the corridor.

Your hands are all over each other once you crash in, rekindling the passion that never quite faded as you stumble into the room, locked in a embrace that's hard to break.

You unzip Paige's sweater and remove her Nike tech pants and are upset to find the truth about layering being true now of all times -- underneath, she has a black sports bra and blue basketball shorts.

You drop to your knees, sliding them down her legs, and your mouth is on her cunt in a flash. She's insanely wet—probably the wettest you've ever had her before in all your years of fucking.

"Do I have to be standing for this?" she asks through gritted teeth, and you realize that she's complimenting your head game like that, and smile, smirking as you look up at her and delving into her pussy with a strong flick of your tongue against her clit a couple of times, moaning hungrily.

The teasing gets her weak, her knees buckling.

Your words, your touch, your gaze—all of it has her surrendering, her defenses disappearing as she gives in to the tension that's been building between you two.

It's been ages since you've gotten to do this—melt Paige on your tongue, and she tastes like heaven, and sounds like it too. When you focus on her clit, parting her folds with your fingers to angle your tongue and flick at it, she whimpers.

Your touch is so, so perfect it doesn't even feel real, and though none of it does, Paige can't help but savor the moment. She gazes down at your face, looking deep into your eyes as she grinds her hips against you, in a frenzy riding your face as she moans loudly.

"Fuck, you're so good," she groans, pulling you back up by your hair and onto your feet, eyes blazing. "Tell me you wouldn't do this for Serena. For any other girl," she demands, tugging your hair in a way that turns you on intensely as you murmur, "Just you. Always only you." And she's relentless, spitting into your mouth, her saliva thick and warm, before she pushes your face back into her cunt, making everything a wet mess through the singular action.

You pull back and marvel at her pink folds. "So beautiful," you whisper against her cunt, entranced with desire and by the way her pussy glistens and gleams, sparkles, and you suckle her clit like a connoisseur.

The signs she's going to climax emerge: her eyes shut tightly, her abs contract repeatedly, and her face turns red and redder by the moment as you work your jaw faster, slipping your finger up into her entrance, but she stops you with a yank of your head backwards.

"Seriously, I'll fall over if we—c'mon, let's go to the bed." she pants.

This time, Paige remembers to lock the door behind her before she slips in between your legs, dangling her chain enticingly in your face. "Still wet?" she softly and earnestly inquires, and you chuckle at her ridiculous charm. "Yeah, of course."

She kisses you deeply, hands roaming eagerly. "Lemme check," she whispers, and then she slides up your dress, exhaling in awe at the sight because you're genuinely dripping.

"So fuckin' perfect, fuck," her warm breath against your stomach gives you chills, and you twitch slightly in her embrace, prompting her hand to fly to your hipbone, anchoring you with a desperate gaze, afraid you might slip away. "N-no," she stammers, her voice trembling, "No, just... just stay like this, just like this."  With lustfully hazy eyes, she closes them as she nuzzles her nose against your clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. "Ah, Paige-!" you yelp, and she's quick to hush you.

"Shhh, angel, please," she whispers, her eyes meeting yours fleetingly. "Please," she repeats, more firmly this time, before her tongue teases at your clit carefully - like she just wants a small taste.

The shamelessness in her begging — begging for you to be complicit with her, coupled with her mouth, it all makes your head spin.

When you nod, silently giving into her, you watch as she indulges in you, moaning at the faint taste of you on her tongue before she withdraws. "You taste amazing," she mumbles, "Just for me."

Your eyebrows furrow at her words, arousing you further, soaking you thoroughly and making you squirm once more, much to her dismay. "Stay still," she instructs firmly, pausing. "Stay still or you won't get anything out of this… I could do this all night, I promise you."

It took you back to when you first met Paige and she told you the exact same thing. You didn't believe her at first, and then she ended up not letting you cum for half an hour, her fingers inside you changing with every stroke, LITERALLY keeping you on edge.

Your hands laced into her hair, and you tugged lightly. "'s what you get, you bitch… so fuckin' mean to me," you teased, knowing exactly how to get her where you needed her, just like she'd gotten you to where she needed you for what you were about to do. "Serena'd be fucking me good by now. She almost did last night before you came out on the couch."

That was true. You weren't just saying it, and you both knew it. That was true.

"Is that so?"

In moments, you were now both naked, her hands gripping your ass and tits eagerly. Her kisses were urgent and messy as she undressed you, her lips assaulting your neck with hungry fervor. "I'm going to fuck that out of you," she declared, her voice filled with need, her breath heating your skin. "I can't get enough of you."

"Do it."

Paige complied, her hands gently kneading your breasts as she positioned herself between your legs. You gasped softly as she settled against you, the heat of her body melding with yours as she aligned your cunts precisely. The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the exquisite friction between you, the heat intensifying as Paige hooked her leg around your thigh in a sense, drawing you closer with each movement. Her voice was a whisper against your calf, filled with need as she questioned, "Feel my clit, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?"

You whine, overwhelmed. "You're so wet, P, fuck." She had your leg bent back towards your head, her slick heat gliding against yours as she moved forward, inhaling sharply at the exquisite friction between you.

She smirked down at you. "Fuck, you're my slut, baby," she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her body closer to yours.

With each powerful thrust of her hips, you could see the subtle flexing and rippling of muscles beneath her skin, a testament to her arousal. Her voice was heavy with desire as she lifted your leg higher, craving deeper access. "Fuck me back, baby, come on. Just like that." the last part a near whine as you appeased, meeting her every grind with a fervent thrust of your hips.

"God, you're so wet," she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to stifle her moans, "Fucking dripping, aw.. shittt." in the break, she's panting, breathing fast breaths into your ear, and then it falls silent.

The sound that fills the air between you two once it does was raw— carnal. It had grown louder as you complied, truly fucking her back, your clits sliding against each other frenziedly, eliciting a wet sound that mingled with the rhythmic clapping of your skin. Unable to stifle it, a sigh of satisfaction escaped you, breaking the silence. "So deep, Paige," you grunted softly, reaching up to fondle her firm tits, her eyes fluttering shut as she quickened her pace, urging you to keep up.

"Don't… do not fucking stop," your voice cracked with pleasure, urgent and needy without care. "Then fuckin', ohh," testing her resolve, you pinch her nipples mid-sentence, and they perk up, practically begging to be sucked. Her voice trembles so invitingly that your mouth waters.

"Then fuckin' keep up with me, ma. You can do it, angel," she encouraged, brushing your hair from your face just to look you with her glossy from determination, and then she's crying out, "Fuckk, yes!" as her hips buck against yours snugly. You're just about to ask what has her so riled up when you feel it— her nails digging into your skin at the sensation of your clit, rubbing hard against hers and pulsating, driving her insane and making her lose control. It makes you shake with pleasure. It was all just perfect — Paige never fucked you like this often just because in her own words, she didn't like sounding like a bitch.

Moaning like a girl. And... she always warned that she couldn't hold back when it came to your pussy. She'd always lose control if she took you like this, and she knew you secretly liked it when she did.

It was hot watching her internally battle the side of herself that wanted to hold the power and the side that wanted to fuck you stupid and give you all her cum.

Nevertheless, she's spilling more arousal from her hole into the mix, and the glide just gets smoother and smoother, like water on water.

You push your hips up harder, grunting with each forceful thrust, and Paige sounds like she's exerting herself at the gym, groaning gruffly as she fucks you relentlessly, babbling about how badly she wants you to cum in her.

"You do? You want it?" you tease, and she's quick to nod her head vigorously, hair flying free from its bun as she moves. "Mhm," spitting down between you both and pleading, "I want your cum so badly, baby, please give it to me, please let me have it, please make me- make me cum, shit you're gonna-"

Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned deeply, hips bucking, signaling her impending climax. "Look at me," you urged, "Look at me, Paige, I want to cum, I want to give it to you, look at me."

When she forces her eyes open, glistening with tears, she freezes on the spot at the sight of your tits bouncing and clapping together rhythmically, the way you bite your bottom lip, and how desperate you sound once you climax at the exact same time as her, calling out her name hoarsely. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Paige, oh—! Oh fuckkk, yes!"

She's whining and crying out listlessly as she collapses over your body, muscles contracting as she spills onto you, and with each slow movement, her cunt feels like glue against yours, so much so that you tremble.

Your skin sticks to each other, a mixture of sweat and arousal making it feel almost impossible to separate, and before you can offer to clean her up again like you so desperately want to — to finish what you started earlier and have her cum on your tongue, a firm knock is heard on your door.

"Guys?!" shouts Maggie, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"

Paige is so thoroughly fucked out that she can't move or speak or react, even though her worst fear has come true, and Maggie knows.

You shake your body, responding cautiously, and inadvertly shaking Paige in the process. "Peanut Butter?" you say. "Yeah?" she manages timidly and you press your hands on her waist, moving her gently, only for her to shudder at the sole movement. 

You chuckle at her sensitivity and general posterior as you disclose, "Secret's out," with a humorous whisper.

And to your collective surprise, realizing Serena is back too, she responds resolutely.

"Good."

MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i think you just witnessed the fact i can’t write angst — or maybe it’s just the creative slumping idk man show all your fav writers some love it’s rly tough out here lol! as always i am now gonna beg for you to interact with me because ily all sm - ana. ALSO TY FOR NEARLY 900 FOLLOWERS WTF!! love u all my cutiemooties, followers, anons 🤍

[riki-dazed]

Thank You, 오빠

suggestive · older reader calls riki their oppa · wc 572 · requested

You look at your screen confused, your eyebrows furrowing at the purchase text confirmation you've just received on your phone. It's from a brand, an expensive one at that, that you don't remember ever purchasing from. You gasp softly, realization hitting you all of a sudden. Did someone get their hands on your credit card information..? Trying to not stress yourself out too much, you hurry into your bedroom to tell your boyfriend about it.

You find Riki sprawled across the large bed, his phone in hand as he mindlessly scrolls through something. He throws his phone to the side in order to give you his full attention when he notices you walking into the room. His face lights up.

"I think I got scammed," You huff, taking a seat on the foot of the bed. Riki smiles, his body shuffing over to where you're now sat. You furrow your eyebrows at his amused expression, "You're smiling!?"

"I had to use your number, sorry for scaring you," He chuckles, placing an innocent peck on your lips. Your demeanor quickly relaxes, you feel yourself suddenly being able to breathe again.

"Oh," You sigh in relief, "That was you,"

"Bought the bag for you anyways," The smug boy winks, the corners of your lips raise a little, tjough, there's a hint of worry behind your voice as you go to scold him.

"You need to stop buying me so many things,"

Riki scans your face, a smirk on his lips, "But you're smiling, no?"

You whack him playfully, the both of you erupting into quiet giggles. Goodness, he loves teasing you. Almost just as much as he loves spoiling you. He'd buy you the world if he could.

You flicker your eyes to his as the both of your giggles settle down, a hint of playfulness washing over your tone, "Thank you, oppa,"

Riki examines your eyes, his gaze dropping to your lips as his head tilts the slightest amount to the side, did he hear that right? He cocks an eyebrow as a quiet 'eh?' escapes his lips.

"I said thank you, oppa," You emphasize, another giggle falling out of your mouth as you lean into your boyfriend to place a kiss on his soft lips, in which are currently hanging open. Riki seems to look everywhere apart from your face as you pull away, the dots suddenly connect in your mind whilst you examine his expression.

"Nishimura Riki," You started, a hint of amusement playing behind your voice, "Did you just get turned on from me calling you oppa?"

The poor boy falls backwards against the mattress, hiding his face. You crawl over to him, grasping his wrists in your hands, revealing his flushed, rosy cheeks.

"Should've told me you were into that," Your voice is hushed, sultry even. His gaze burns into yours as he bites down onto his plump, bottom lip.

You continue to taunt him, "Anyways- I'll keep that noted for tonight, oppa,"

Riki groans, escaping the grasp of your hands as he covers his face in embarrassment again. His reaction sends you into a fit of laughter as you lay down beside him. Your distressed boyfriend reaches for a pillow behind his head, wanting to hide his excited crotch behind it. He's a complaining, flustered mess.

"It's too early for this."

His statement, along with the pillow, only makes you laugh harder into the side of his chest.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[tsxkkis]

# tobio kageyama - mosquitoes

a/n = another (kinda) stupid one while i'm actually suffering from all the mosquito bites i have (i'm dying over here fr)

summary = kageyama mistakes your hickeys for mosquito bites.

warnings = hickeys, mentions of making out, 3rd year kageyama being a little stupid as he is

"what happened to you?"

kageyama's curious frame appeared behind you, making you jump on your bed in surprise. for a moment, you almost forgot he was supposed to come over to your house today; only then realizing that your mom probably opened the door for him, welcoming him with a warm smile as usual.

seeing the puzzled look on your face at his question, kageyama sighed as he came up closer, hand pointing to the few small marks on your neck.

"you should get something that will get the mosquitoes away from your room." he explained, face genuinely concerned as he sat down next to you, seeing you open up the camera app on your phone. "aren't there some scents that make them go away or something?"

his question fell on deaf ears as you were more focused on finding out just what marks was he talking about exactly, an annoyed huff leaving your lips when you couldn't get the angle right to see them in your phone camera.

you stood up, walking over to the big mirror standing in the corner of your room, a focused look on your face as you got your hair away to not disturb your view. kageyama observed in silence, a look of confusion on his face when he watched you laugh at the sight of the marks, your eyes finally catching them in the mirror.

"what's so funny? you really should get some window net for those mosquitoe-"

"kageyama, those aren't exactly mosquito bites."

hearing you say his name stopped him from talking, his face softening up a little, only to be overtaken by confusion right after. you could only look at him, waiting for him to connect the dots in his head.

the moment he finally did, his eyes widened as he quickly looked away from embarrassment.

"oh."

oh.

you laughed again, the sound echoing through your room. he was in his third year of high school, he should've realized sooner, shouldn't he? but at the same time, you were his first-ever girlfriend, first kiss, first anything romantically related, to be honest. it wasn't his fault for not connecting the dots right away.

kageyama recalled the situation from the day before, the thoughts making his cheeks glow a deep shade of red; memories of his hands on your hips, lips moving against his eagerly as he tried not to show just how stressed about all of it he was, seemingly confident in his every move.

it felt right for him to move his lips towards your neck at some point, the gasp you let out at the contact only proving him right. he softly nibbled at the skin, hands squeezing your hips tighter to prevent you from feeling just how shaky they were.

he definitely overheard his older teammates, tanaka especially, talking about it in their previous years of high school, boating about how it's the "thing girls love the most" or something of this sort. he couldn't remember the words correctly, as it was almost a year ago already, but he still had that conversation in the back of his head.

only kageyama forgot about the part where it actually leaves marks.

"you're awfully red right now, tobio." your voice abruptly stopped his trail of thoughts, his awkward and embarrassed face making you giggle a little under your breath as you ruffled his hair. "don't worry about it. my mom hasn't seen them."

he let out a deep breath, one he didn't even know he was holding in, body relaxing a bit at the information.

"she would murder me if she found out, wouldn't she?" he muttered, head instinctively going to rest on your shoulder as you sat down next to him.

"probably."

a silence fell over you two for a moment, your hand coming up to gently brush through his hair, kageyama leaning into your touch.

"but you..." the boy hesitated for a bit, thinking of how to word his thoughts properly. "...liked it, right?"

he heard you hum, nodding your head in response, the slightest bit of embarrassment gracing your face, and it was enough of an answer for him.

kageyama's lips curved slightly in a faint smile.

maybe eavesdropping on his upperclassmen conversations during practice those prior years wasn't all that bad for him after all.

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

[lxvvie]

A Street Fighter!Simon entry:

"I should've killed him," is what Simon grunts out, the first thing he's said since showing up at your doorstep. It made your blood run cold.

You hadn't seen him in weeks (and not for lack of trying on your part) and when he knocked on your door, you... shit, he's seen better days. Poor bastard probably hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while, one eye was bruised and damn near swollen shut, his lip was split, his crooked nose was bandaged, his knuckles bloodied, and he looked somewhere between apathetic and pissed off. Which one, you couldn't tell.

And when he silently walked in, sat down on your couch, and lit a cigarette, you were damn near tempted to rip him a new asshole before he looked at you and... and—"What the hell's wrong with you?" You'll mentally slap yourself for that one later, but the way Simon looked at you—through you, rather—made sure your rant died a quick, painless death.

You've never seen such dead eyes on a living person before.

Simon didn't say anything, he just... turned away. Turned away, nursed his cigarette, and let the smoke burn his throat and hurt him better than any fight ever could. You hesitantly took a seat next to him, torn between wanting to break the silence and wondering if it would be worth the risk, but Simon made that decision for you, well after the discomfort made it all tangible.

"I almost killed him," is the second thing Simon says, and you thought it best to just let your silence speak for itself.

"...The rat fuck didn't think I had it in me. He kept hitting her. Wouldn't stop. Tommy tried. Got hit, too. Then I hit him." You didn't like how nonchalant he sounded. You wanted to ask him what he meant, but—

"I didn't stop." What?

"Simon—" "Shouldn't have stopped. They shouldn't have stopped me." "Simon... what are you—" "—I wish I never stopped—"

"HEY!" You winced at how loud you sounded. Hope the neighbors don't complain about that one but you can't be too sure. It didn't bother Simon none, though. He just... stared at you. Stared as if he'd noticed you for the first time. "What are you... Who are you talking about? What is—What happened to you?" You rambled and it sounded nonsensical to your ears.

Didn't bother Simon none. Nonsensical was his middle fucking name.

"Does your old man love you?" Simon grunts out, well after staring, well after finishing his first and lighting his second cigarette. That you saw. You couldn't answer that question. Didn't want to answer that question. Didn't want to stir the pot anymore than you already had. Which wasn't much. It was enough for Simon, though.

You let your silence speak for you.

He turned away and exhaled the smoke. He was tired. Tired of this shit. Tired of his family. Tired of the bloody silence. He asked you yet again, wanting answers, wanting to be rid of it all, wanting to break the silence.

"Does he love you enough to stay the fuck away?"

You didn't think you had it in you to answer him, not as you were connecting the dots.

And still, your silence spoke for you.

[mrsshabana]

Hey Mrs.Shabana I just wanna say I really love your work and it’s always been a delight to read. What I would like to request a part two of NTR because not only was it hot but the possible drama afterwards makes me excited and I wish to know what happens next! You don’t have to do it though take your time with everything

𝐍𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary After cheating on your boyfriend, Tengen, it's not long before you face the consequences of your actions. But things take an unexpected turn, and Gyutaro couldn't be happier with the results. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, college au, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, netorare, cheating. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.4k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Part one

"Aw man, do you have to wipe it off? You look so pretty covered in my cum..." Gyutaro pouts as he hands you a paper towel.

"Yes!" You say, trying to avoid letting it drip into your mouth, "Tengen will be here any minute to pick me up."

Gyutaro rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as he watches you clean up the beautiful mess he made of you.

"Heh yeah, I'm lookin' forward to that," he smirks, imagining the look on Tengen's face when he received the photo he sent of you just moments ago.

Begrudgingly, Gyutaro helps you clean up. Taking the soiled paper towels and throwing them in the garbage bin.

"How do I look?" you smooth out your hair and try to look presentable.

Gyutaro narrows his eyes and looks you up and down, "Looks fine to me," he says as he can obviously see a bit of dried cum leftover in your hair - but purposefully decides not to say anything.

"Ok, thanks," you reapply your lipgloss and straighten out your clothes, "Hopefully he won't notice..."

Just as you begin to feel the guilt seep in, the doorknob jiggles, and Tengen barges into the room.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" He shouts and comes barreling towards you.

Never have you seen your boyfriend so angry, especially targeted towards you. You instinctually go to Gyutaro's side, grabbing his arm and staying close to him.

"What the hell has gotten into you?!" you wail, genuinely afraid and confused. Though Gyutaro is shockingly calm and collected, an arrogant aura emanates from him as he grabs his vape out of his pocket.

"Are you fucking serious? You slept with my roommate!!" Your boyfriend clenches his fists in anger.

"Technically she didn't sleep with me, she just sucked me off," Gyutaro says nonchalantly.

Tengen narrows his eyes at his roommate, filled with fury. But honestly, he's not even mad at Gyutaro, he already knows he's a scumbag. So he isn't surprised he'd do something like this, he's more upset with you.

"Shut up incel, adults are talking," Tengen snaps back, "How could you do this, Y/N? I should've known you were a good-for-nothing whore."

"But I-I..." you whimper as your eyes begin to water, shame taking over you. Maybe you really are just a whore. Tengen may stand you up a lot, but that doesn't mean he deserved to be cheated on.

"Tsk," Gyutaro scoffs and takes a drag of his vape, "You're one to talk."

"Shut it! You're just a pathetic virgin, you don't know shit."

"Oh really? Then maybe I should tell Y/N about Hinatsuru. Or maybe Makio or Suma?" Gyutaro smirks as he watches Tengen go pale, "But what do I know? I'm just a pathetic incel, right?"

"You fucking prick..." Tengen curses under his breath.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Those were the girls that Tengen told you not to worry about, claiming that they were just childhood friends. You gave him the benefit of the doubt because you didn't have a reason not to. But now you feel like a complete and utter fool.

A part of you is fuming with anger but the other part feels relieved that now you're off the hook.

"Whatever," Tengen puts his hands up defensively, "You can have my sloppy seconds."

His words hurt, but honestly, you can't even bring yourself to care. As you watch Tengen leave and slam the door behind him, it's safe to say that your relationship is over.

But why is it that you don't even feel that sad about it? Maybe because a part of you figured he was already cheating. He was never around anyway so the fact that you're officially broken up doesn't change much. If anything you're just really happy that you don't have to feel bad about giving Gyutaro a blowjob anymore.

"We should fuck on his bed." Gyutaro breaks the silence with the most out-of-pocket, unhinged sentence. Though you can't say you're surprised he'd say such a thing in a moment like this.

"A-Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah," he takes another drag of his vape, "He said I could have you now so why hold back?"

You can't help but blush at his bluntness - this was one of the reasons why you crushed on Gyutaro in the first place. He's never afraid to say what's on his mind despite how strange or inappropriate it is.

"Haha, sure Gyutaro," you chuckle, "Let's do that."

With a big mischievous grin, Gyutaro takes your hand and leads you to his roommate's bedroom. Promtly pushing you onto the bed and hurriedly taking off his shirt.

"You're still wet from earlier, right?" he says as he slides off his pants, all too eager for round two.

"Y-yeah," you say shyly. He's right, you did get really wet when you gave him a blowjob - your panties are already soaked.

"Well hurry up, take that shit off," he gets impatient, his cock twitching as he glares down at you.

"He's one demanding virgin..." you think to yourself as you hurriedly take off your clothes. Honestly, you're surprised Gyutaro is already hard again after he just came. But he is a virgin after all so it makes sense.

Once your clothes have been fully removed, Gyutaro spreads your legs and crawls on top of you. "About fucking time, you know how many times I've jerked off while thinking about this?"

Your entire face goes red in embarrassment. His words aren't romantic in the slightest but his honesty is sexier than dirty talk could ever be.

You watch in horror as he's about to slide into you, "Wait!! Put a condom on first!"

Gyutaro rolls his eyes and shoves himself into you anyway, "Hell no, I wanna claim you in ways Tengen never could." He groans as he pushes his hips flush against you.

Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you feel him fill you completely. After being wet for so long without any stimulation, it feels heavenly to finally have him inside of you.

"Ah f-fine," you moan, "But you have to pull out! I-I'm not on birth control."

"Fuck I'd love to get you pregnant so then you'd really be stuck with me," he murmurs, "But fine, I'll pull out if that's what you want."

You hope he'll keep his word, but honestly right now it feels too good to care. Gyutaro begins bucking his hips wildly, thrusting in and out of you with sloppy thrusts.

"You're my girl now, got it?" he says between gasps.

"Uh huh," you moan, "M'your girl now, Gyu."

"Fuck... good girl, Y/N" he picks up the pace - the sound of skin slapping fills the room. And your combined fluids splash where the two of you are connected, creating a nice messy pool on your ex-boyfriend's bed sheets.

Gyutaro doesn't quite know enough about sex yet to make you orgasm, but he's doing a decent enough job at fucking you that you already feel close. So you use your right hand to rub tight circles into your clit, while your other hand holds onto his shoulder for support.

"I fuck you better than he did, don't I?" Gyutaro growls, getting closer to his peak.

"Y-yeah, so much better," you moan, "B-Bigger too."

His lips curl into an arrogant smirk, he grabs your hips tightly and shakily pounds into you as hard as he can. So pussy drunk that he barely pulls out in time.

His cock twitching in the air as his nails dig into your hips, "Th-this'll show him! You're my girl now!" he whimpers as his semen splatters all over your abdomen and all over Tengen's sheets.

Watching the white sticky fluid stain the cloth does something to you and you feel your legs tremble as you reach orgasm. Moaning and arching your back, wishing that he was still inside of you.

"Fuck... he's an idiot for ever cheating on you. You're the perfect girl," Gyutaro rasps, leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss.

As you lay there, a panting and sweaty mess, Gyutaro grabs some tissues and cleans you up. Then he haphazardly smears his semen on the bed sheets. Watching as it soaks into the fabric. Knowing that when Tengen gets into bed tonight he'll have a little surprise waiting for him.

[cozage]

Taking a hit for them in battle

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji cw: blood, war, angst

You didn’t have foresight, not even close. But when the hair on your neck stood up, you glanced around the battlefield for him, and you saw it. A marine had managed to sneak up on him, and the blade would undoubtably connect. You could tell that, with luck, it would be fatal. And so your body moved before you even had time to think, and as you felt the blade connect with your skin instead of his, a cry of pain and relief escaped from your mouth. 

Luffy

“GET OUT OF MY WAYYYYYY!” He whipped his arm around, taking down 20 marines in one swoop. “Second GEA-" 

A cry from behind him made his blood run cold. He turned around slowly to see you on your knees, clutching your bloodied arm. “Y/N…why did you…”

Then, as he saw the marine raise his sword again, this time aimed for you, all of the dots connected and his horror turned to rage. You had protected him from his own careless mistake. He screamed out in anger, sending fist after fist into the marine’s body. He didnt stop until the Marine was a bloodied mess crumpled on the ground. 

The battle raged on around you, but he sank down to his knees to meet your eyes. He could only focus on you now. He needed to make sure you were okay first. “Y/N…” Concern was riddled all over his face.

“It’s fine, Lu. It’s better than you being killed.”

His fingers hovered over the wound, his eyes starting to water. “I can see bone.”

“Luffy. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is okay. We’ll get Chopper to fix it later, okay?”

Luffy rubs furiously at his eyes and nods. "Just stay put for a sec, I can handle these guys." He says, standing to his feet. Dozens of marines were already closing in on you.

He takes his straw hat off and gingerly places it on your head. “Hey Y/N?” He flashes his billion berry bounty smile. “Thanks for saving me! Don't do that again though, okay?”

Zoro

“Fuck!” How had he missed an attack so obvious? It was a dirty trick, one he should've anticipated. He had even noticed the attack before it struck, but had no way to deflect it. It would’ve been the first slice that had hit his back, but the blow never came. Instead, as he turned around, he saw you, crumpled to the ground, red staining the soil around you. 

“Dammit woman! What were you THINKING!” He readjusts his swords and cuts down the wall of marines that had crept up on him. 

“Scars on the back are…” you struggle to speak in a normal tone through the pain. “They’re a swordman’s shame, right?” You smirk up at him, which causes him to clench his jaw in frustration. Marines were now surrounding you two on all sides. 

“Just stay down for a second, okay?” You nod and lay back, scanning the clouds for any funny animals or shapes. You should care about the battle, you should try to get up and fight. But you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than look at the sky. Zoro can handle the marines, you've never doubted his skill in fighting before. He'll keep you safe from here on out, you're certain.

Zoro's face reappears above you after a few seconds. “Still with me?” His voice is strained, his face scrunched with concern. His eyes dart between your eyes and your wound, unsure which to focus on. You grin back at him in response, too tired to respond with words. 

“Just stay with me okay?” He pulls his shirt off and begins tying it around your wounded arm. “God, there’s so much…just stay with me.”

He picks you up as gently as he can and starts running. You can hear him screaming for a medic, and even though this is a battlefield, you can’t help but feel safe and secure now that you are back in his arms. You lean into him, trying to get comfortable.

“Are you cuddling into me as you’re bleeding out?!?”

“You’re warm.” Your simple answer makes him feel a little more at ease. At least you were speaking now, and responding normally.

“You’re insufferable!” He retorts, which makes you laugh softly. 

Sanji

He struggled to keep his footing while his eyesight slowly came back into focus. A surprise attack had left his vision blurry an his ears ringing. As he looked around the blurry battlefield, one thing came into focus. You. Right below him. Lying on the ground. Clutching at your side, which is slowly becoming crimson-colored. “Y/N-swan…”

Sanji lets out a guttural roar as he unleashes a fury of kicks against the Marines closest to you “STAY BACK!” He warns. “NOBODY TOUCHES HER!”

He positions himself over top of you, so nobody can ambush him again. He was supposed to be the one taking hits for you, not the other way around. Shame and rage fill his soul. Any time a marine comes close, he kicks them down in an instant. Getting revenge and keeping you from further harm was his only mission now. 

Seeing a break in the waves of marines rushing towards you, he scoops you up and begins to skywalk away from danger. There’s always time for vengeance, but he isn’t sure how critical your injury is. 

“I’ve never seen a battle from this view,” you murmur, trying to act as casual as possible. 

“My dear! You’re still awake! You’re still-" he can’t bring himself to finish the rest of the sentence. 

It hurts to laugh, but you can’t help it. “Did you think I would die that easily?”

He showers you in kisses as he takes you to safety. “Please, my dear, never do that again. I would rather die than see you ever get harmed even the slightest bit.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Pregnancy scare with Tan? 🫢

im so not okay bc I love stuff like this😮‍💨 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

I haven’t used a tan gif in so long omg!! this makes it fun

BROWN PAPER BAG.

tangerine x fem!reader — angst

word count. 895

warnings. made it angsty and a little dramatic bc i love prego scare fics. the ending is meant to be up in the air, so you can imagine the results you want.

Late periods were often nothing to worry about, your underwear almost always spotting with blood mere hours after your little panics. Though, this time, it felt different. Those few hours never rolled around, and they quickly began to turn into days - and with every day that passed, your head filled with more dread.

You didn't want to worry Tangerine with something that could be nothing, so you kept all uneasy thoughts to yourself - letting yourself wallow in the feeling alone. But you were never truly alone, and no matter how hard you pushed him away, he would still be there - patiently waiting for you to let him back in.

He noticed the change in you recently, and every time he tried to question it, all he would get from you in response was a simple, 'it's nothing,' or a 'just tired.' But he's far too stubborn to let that be it. 

You had just returned home from the pharmacy, brown paper bag stashed tightly inside your handbag - keeping it hidden. You place it on the sideboard beside the front door and head to the kitchen to get a drink, filling a glass with water. 

Tangerine makes his way over to you and presses a kiss into your cheek, welcoming you back. "Don't suppose you got me deodorant?" he asks, referring to the little list he gave you before you left.

You hum, smiling at him as you place the glass down, moving across to get a snack from the cupboard. "In my bag," you gesture to the front door.

Before you have a second to realise what you've said, Tangerine has his hand in your bag, his grip tight on the paper bag. When you hear the rustling, you rush over to him and try to pry it from his hands.

He would've left it be, but you were so desperate to stop him that it only made him more sceptical. He holds the bag at a height, extending the other out to you - keeping you at a distance.

"Don't— just," you mutter, reaching for the bag. "Come on, just— please. Give it back."

"No," he shakes his head, voice almost stern. "Do you want to tell me? Or should I save us the trouble and look myself?" he asks, giving you no options.

You shake your head, lips tight to stop them from wobbling. You felt cornered, stuck in a problem you created for yourself. You stand still, containing your attempts to stop him, but when his hand reaches inside the bag, you turn around and leave the room - the atmosphere growing tense for you to want to deal with.

You make your way to your shared room, leaving him in the hallway to connect the dots by himself. You felt mortified for the way it had all just played out, embarrassment creeping in and replacing those feelings of dread. You close the bedroom door when you hear the stairs creak, the familiar footsteps of your lover making his way up. 

He knocks on the door before he opens it. He lingers in the doorway for a beat, watching you fiddle with things on the dresser. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, tone like that of hurt. "That's why you've been so off with me."

You hate keeping him in the lurk, especially about something as big as this —though it still could be nothing— so you decide to stop fighting it. 

"I'm late," you utter, avoiding his focused gaze. "I'm late. And I'm scared for what it means."

He pauses, trying to collect himself and push away his prior wounded feelings - wanting to reassure you, seeing as you needed it more right now. 

"And that's why you bought..." he strings off, referring to your bag of pregnancy tests. 

You sigh softly and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Yeah," you nod, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. "I should've told you," you speak towards the floor - diverting from his attention.

He follows suit and stands in front of you, crouching down to meet your eyeline. "Yeah, you should've," he hums. "But that don't matter right now. How late are you?" he asks, looking over the rectangular box.

"Nearly two weeks," you mumble, sadly smiling at him.

"Two weeks?" he repeats, tone hurt like that time before. "You've been feeling this for two weeks. And you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted to be sure," you shrug, trying to ease the tension. "It's usually nothing to worry about. It's late sometimes, but," you exhale, halting the rest of your sentence.

"But not like this," he finishes your thought. "I really wished you'd told me."

"I know, I'm sorry. I feel awful about it all."

"I wanted to be there for you," he places a hand over your knee, using you for stability as he stands back up. 

He reaches for your hand and helps you stand, his gentle grip leading you towards the bathroom. He stops when he reaches the door and turns to face you - the small white box clutched in his free hand.

"Do you want me to wait out here?" he questions, trying to scope you out.

"No," you reply, finally letting him in. "Can you do it with me?"

He hums, giving your hand a squeeze. "Course."

[hitomisuzuya]

AHH REQUEST R OPEN!! I LOVE UR WORK SM <33

Can I request bully tutor Scara teasing us so we can focus on studying

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Teasing. Reader is bad at Math. I chose this subject because I have Dyscalculia. Smutty appreciation for Scaramouche's beautiful, drool worthy fingers.

You guys are spoiling me with these requests, oml

You knew it was going to happen eventually. You were going to need a tutor for Math if you even dreamed of passing. So you asked Scaramouche to do it. It dented your pride to ask, but you couldn't keep getting failing grades.

Sure, your choice of tutor was unique, but you couldn't think of anyone else that you wanted to tutor you.

You stared blankly down at the problem Scaramouche had given you to solve. X divided by what? How was it even possible to get a flipping letter to equal a stupid number?

Fuck this, let's petition the state to get them to exempt you from requiring Math classes to graduate.

Your head dropped onto the table. "This is impossible, Scara," You sighed, defeated. It was bad enough that you could barely concentrate with his hand on your thigh.

"Oh? Is it not connecting in your pretty, empty head?" Scaramouche taunted, his hand wandering further up your thigh. "Are you really that incapable of solving such a simple problem?"

Simple?! You wanted to throw your pen at him for saying that. "This is not simple! This shit is impossible," You said, exasperated.

"Tch, I should've known this would be too hard for you. Let me break it down for you like this, maybe your broken little brain can wrap itself around how simple it is to solve this," It seemed like such a waste not to take advantage of the short, pleated skirt you so kindly wore for him.

Scaramouche pulled your chair closer to his, making you look at him in surprise. "I'll be dispensing with these first," He said, his fingers brushing teasingly against your panties.

You shivered, squirming when he rubbed your clit with his knuckles outside of your panties, smirking when he felt the fabric dampen. He pulled your panties down, batting your legs apart.

He drug two fingers between your folds, coating his fingers in your slick. Leaning forward, he put his lips right next to your ear. His warm breath made goosebumps dot your skin. "First you divide by two," He purred, swirling the tip of his finger around your clit, licking his lips as it began to throb underneath his finger.

"D-divide what by two? It's an--," You trailed off, shakily moaning, rolling your hips into his fingers, "an x."

"I am not blind," Scaramouche hissed in your ear, pressing his thumb on your clit. Your next moan sounded louder, the erotic noise making his cock twitch to harden.

With that, Scaramouche began to break the problem down step by step, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you after each step. Your hand reached down to grasp his wrist when his fingers finally kissed against your sweet spot.

He pulled them out of you just to hear your whimper of protest, licking his lips when your fingers tightened around his wrist, urging his fingers back towards the entrance of your now dripping cunt.

"Repeat back to me what I just said," His eyes were dark with lust, scissoring your walls apart as he abruptly pushed his fingers inside of you all at once, hooking them firmly against your sweet spot.

Your thighs trembled in pleasure, bucking your hips into his fingers. Your voice shook at you struggled to repeat his instructions, your walls clamping tight around his fingers.

Scaramouche laughed. "Are you going to cum before I even explain how to finish solving the problem? How pathetic," He added a third finger, making you writhe in your chair.

He sighed, scoffing when you could only manage broken moans of pleasure. The way you bit your lip was starting to drive him crazy, fueling his lust for you as he slammed his fingers ruthlessly into you.

Scaramouche grabbed a handful of your hair when you threw your head back, crying out for him while the knot of your orgasm coiled to break apart. He yanked your head up, licking the shell of your ear. "Go ahead and cum, then. Maybe then you can think straight."

You were drooling, sobbing softly in pleasure by the time your release squirted out onto his fingers, babbling out his instructions as best you could. He fingered you through your orgasm, relentlessly continuing to kiss his fingers against your sweet spot.

You barely heard him when he finished breaking the problem down, whispering something utterly cruel to you then, "By the way, there is no way to solve this problem," He laughed, licking his fingers clean when he pulled them out of you. "You actually believed every word I said."

Scaramouche took out his hardened cock, patting his lap before pulling you out of your chair to straddle him. "Fuck yourself dumb on my cock. I'll let you cum for every right answer you give me," His fingers curled underneath your chin, "You'll be sucking me off untouched for every wrong one."

[godlyrots]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄.

PAIRING — college!jasontodd x black!femreader

SYNOPSIS — you choose dare.

WORD COUNT — 1498 words.

WARNINGS + CONTENT — biting, very very sloppy making out. dry humping. pet names, doll, angel, pretty. little praise. super short for my standards. some jealousy. mentions of weed and drinking or alcohol. implied hook up with roy. a bit scattered. little hair pulling. no use of y/n. a little bit awkward cause i hate writing dialogue. might be ooc but let me have this. lots and lots of marking.

you're sat in roy's apartment all in a circle on his dingy carpet that was once a bright orange but turned into a dark brown. his place smelled like stale beer and weed which was obviously roy's doing. he and jason sat on both sides of you while your other friends filled up the remaining spots. both roy and jason go to your university but you don't understand how they even work as friends.

"truth or dare?"

music was soft in the background as some song from roy's playlist was playing to remove the silence from their hangout.

"dare." you shrugged as you took a sip from your cup and roy took some time to decide on what he wanted your dare to be. he knew deep down that jason's chest filled with a warmth when he looked at you, or talked to you or thought to you. his feelings weren't all innocent however, all filthy, filled with thoughts of you pressed against a wall with his hands in fistful of your braids as he rutted his hips against you in a feverish glow. it was seemingly obvious to him but he and jason were best friends so if anyone would know it'd be him.

roy knew jason better than he knew himself. he always kept a mental note of jason's reaction when he saw you walk out of their shared apartment in the early morning before classes with your clothes put on haphazardly, braids a little messy and a dreamy look in your eyes with your neck littered with little purple marks. he just looked at roy with a piercing stare after he left the room shortly after with a white shirt being pulled on quickly after you left. jason already connected the dots as his jaw ticked at the idea of his best friend having a chance with you before he did.

"i dare you to. . ." roy began and somehow you and jason ended up in his room, you on the edge of his bed and he might as well be a galaxy away from you as he's sat with his back against the headrest. you'd be lying to yourself if you thought jason wasn't attractive, with his light eyes and minimal facial hair that made him look absolutely delicious. not to mention the little dimples he had just below the apples of his cheeks. he was just so him and that was so attractive to you and just about anyone with enough sense and eyes.

you chewed on your bottom lip, strawberry flavoured lipgloss making it's way on your tongue and mixing with the slight taste of beer. "i like your shirt." you said and looked at him as he spoke. "thanks," he said and he slowly shifted closer to you but that wasn't even evident to you. he placed a hand near your thigh, you looked down at his hand and noticed the scars. he had one that went across his palm and it filled with callouses and you instinctively took his hand in yours. you knew he was into working out from what roy told you and it showed, his taut muscles were prominent as his shirt clung to his biceps and it made you a bit dizzy. you saw as his veins protruded from his arm, pulsing with each rush of blood through his limbs. god, he was so perfect.

"what are you doing?" jason asked with a laugh that racked though his chest, a deep timbre that you'd never noticed before. had he always been so. . . your type? you didn't even know and maybe this had been a sign that you should've spent the night with him instead of roy, but he was a whole nothing story.

you let out a slight puff of air, "i don't know, lookin' at you i guess." you told him honestly, "you're just really pretty to look at." you admitted to jason and continued to study his features, all of them from each scar to imperfection and how his irises sparkled with a tinge of blue in the dim warm lights of his bedroom. he gave you a little smile before he eyes flashed a darker shade of ocean blue.

"yeah? ya' think i'm pretty doll?"

you nodded with a little smile and jason was nearly pressing against you now, his breath hitting the side of your neck and your hand ended up on his thigh as he took in your scent of vanilla body wash and shea butter location. it was addicting to him.

"you're real pretty too." he said and you reached forward to kiss him, he was even more in love with the way your lips tasted, the sweet strawberry made him quietly moan into your mouth. he pulled your only his lap and left feverish, hectic kisses as he left sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your lips you tried to match his pace and kissed back harder. he's so him. you feel your pulse hammering in your body as he whispered praises to you.

"you're so perfect angel. should've done this ages ago." you feel his heartbeat as your chest is pressed against his and he's so much more desperate now. he rutted his hips into yours as he held your thighs down so that you had no room to squirm or wiggle out from his hold. you gasped as he brought his hips to meet yours with the added barrier of both your clothes. "jesus christ—" his lips met your neck and his pearly white teeth nipped at the flesh of your neck and he left marks that would resemble the purple hues of a painting that belonged in a museum and he wouldn't stop until you were his beautiful piece of art. "you're so needy doll, you want me just as bad as i want you." he chides against the crook of your neck and moaned as you rocked your hips against him working in tandem with his feverish ruts into your clothed cunt. you could feel each movement he made and your body ran hot with each passing minute. yours hand found itself in his beautiful head of hair and you pulled at his espresso locks with every single move he made.

he keeps your skin between his teeth and lips. jason is so desperate to leave his mark on you so that in the morning you won't be able to hide any reminder of him. you feel the ache between your thighs climb to your abdomen as he continues, his lips are stuck to your skin as he grunts with each whimper and moan that leaves your pretty, swollen lips. jason's so obsessed with each sound that leaves your beautiful mouth, they sound like a saccharine melody he can't get out of his mind. "i love all your pretty noises. gotta record 'em so that when i'm missin' you. i'll have something to listen to." he whispered against the shell of your ear and nipped at your ear.

you struggled to get the words out, the coil in your abdomen wound tight as he praised you. "heard you," you gasp as the words as stuck in your throat and he found that sweet spot that made you eyes roll as he took control of your already sporadic movements. "that night when i was with roy— we both did. i know you heard me too, sounded so desperate like you wanted us—me." you corrected your mistake but jason didn't exactly disagree with you. he continued to spur you on, he ignored how careless he was being and was only focused on getting you off.

jason didn't respond, he heard each word you said as they found their place in his mind, always in his memories. he wouldn't lie to himself and fight the fact that he thought about that night often, he laid in bed at night and imagined that he was the one that made you feel that good. he got his lick back though. "probably so close f'me doll. no one else should make you feel this good."

he hummed against your skin, the heat was radiating off of you and he felt the same, his skin was slick with sweat and he was so close. you only nodded and he could feel whatever resolve he had left leaving his body. "do it. cum f'me angel." you felt it come down on you, the fiery hot feeling leaving you to catch your breath as your chest heaved with each move jason made underneath you. you bit down on the flesh of jason's shoulder underneath his shirt to subdue your cries and he moaned lowly as a result. he followed soon after and released in his boxers not embarrassed in the slightest.

"come over tomorrow morning." he nearly demanded, chest unstable as his normally perfectly imperfect hair was a little wet with sweat but he still looked incredible.

"we have classes."

"skip 'em."