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kumkaniudaku · 10 days ago

Text

101

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

"So…you come here often?"

In a crowded bar tucked into a rapidly changing side of town, Asia sat perched on a barstool, listening to yet another potential suitor court her uninterested best friend. They always approached with unearned confidence, dropping some variation of the same tired lines only to be tossed back into a sea of misfit boy toys to make room for the next poor, unfortunate soul.

Sabrina loved the attention, though. At a statuesque 5 '10", she didn't mind being worshipped like Aphrodite and choosing her favorite from the litter until she was bored and ready for the next man up. Asia loved it, too. Watching men fall all over themselves in a way they'd never done for her was weirdly empowering. She didn't get to take home any of the night's trophies, but she did get to listen to the stories of every Tom, Dick, and Devante that passed in and out of her friend's life.

Barely interested, Sabrina sipped through a tiny black straw and regarded her latest contestant with tipsy indifference. "Not really. Why?"

"Uh…I don't know. Just, uh, just wondering?"

"Mhm. I'm drinking tequila." A loud slurp from liquid long evaporated from scratched glass filled with more ice than anything else brought the young man's attention to her hands and then back to her face. She offered him her best sweet smile and proposed, "Get me another?"

Asia had never seen a man getting absolutely nothing in return move so fast to wedge himself between a handful of patrons vying for the bartender's attention.

Sabrina let off a cackle loud enough to eclipse various pockets of chatter and music as she elbowed a laughing Asia. "That's, what, three for you tonight?" Asia asked, still swirling around the pity Jack and Coke she was gifted an hour ago. "One more, and you might get the record."

"Girl, I'm not drinking that shit. I'm supposed to be meeting Eric later tonight, and I can't be drunk like I was last time. It's been a month, and I need that."

"He's back from Portugal?"

"Fuckin' finally," Sabrina gushed. "I don't mean to be a 'my man, my man, my man' ass bitch about a nigga that is not my man, but…"

Sabrina didn't need to finish. Four years of their on-off whatever the fuck had been as much a part of Asia's life as it was Sabrina's. She'd been there for all the dates, all the late-night phone calls that pulled her friend away from plans, every blow-up and breakup, and the eventual reconciliation that would, once again, leave her as a lonely party of one. Unfortunately, she never got any of the fabled mind-blowing sex that came from their strange arrangement. Only the stories and the occasional video if Sabrina was feeling spicy.

Asia downed the rest of her drink along with the jealousy brewing in her chest and slid the glass across the bar for someone to collect later. "Well, hey, as long as you're happy." Happy was relative. She really wanted to say as long as you're willing to keep your business out of my bubble, but swallowed the thought before it could breach her lips. "Should I keep my phone off DND just in case?"

No immediate answer made Asia pause her casual scan of the room to look over at Sabrina, who'd all but buried her nose into her cell phone to grin at whatever was keeping her preoccupied.

She called out to her friend again. "Sabrina!"

"Huh," she sputtered out, snapping from her Eric-mania. "N-no, I should be good. We're on good terms. Or I'll just go to my sister's house. Did I tell you she moved? Oh, shit. Let me take this."

Sabrina didn't leave much time for objection, though Asia couldn't say she would offer any if given the chance. She was used to flying solo. She liked moving around the city as a lone wolf, looking for any cocktail lounge or off-the-beaten-path late-night spot to slink into and observe the happenings of 20 and 30-somethings looking for something or someone to get into before trudging home when daylight came back around.

The night was still young enough to hit up a cigar bar her old work friend Marcus had told her about. She didn't smoke, but the brown liquor was always smooth, and their food wasn't half bad.

While she sat trying to get the bartender's attention to close her tab, a presence at her side made themselves known with an accidental shove that nearly knocked her off balance.

"Gahdamn," she hollered, gripping the bar top for dear life to avoid starting a dangerous domino effect. Her mind didn't register the frantic apology from her newest enemy or the way he grabbed her waist to return her to a steady state. All she saw was his smile's familiar, gorgeous gleam when he realized who he'd bumped into just as his night was beginning and hers was coming to a close. "Kelvin?"

He slowly let go of her body and tried to appear taller than he was. "Good, I'm glad you noticed. Thought you might beat my ass. I know how you get down."

"I still should. What the hell are you doin' in here, and did they card you at the door?"

"Ha-ha. I'm a grown-ass man. Don't let the stature fool you." His fake laugh gave way to a real one shared between coworkers who cared enough about their jobs not to get fired but never enough for rapid advancement.

Life as a creative in a city where just about everyone was a "creative" had a way of uniting strangers from all walks of life. When Asia stepped into her new agency searching for exciting new clients and an actual team of people to see in the office a few times a week, she didn't expect to be accosted by the bright-eyed Associate Creative Director who had no business fraternizing with the project management team. But there Kelvin was, half-sitting on her desk with his Nike-clad foot swinging while he rattled off lunch spots within walking distance for them to check out once she was done with her first meeting with HR.

"You always this chatty," She asked while trying to make sense of her new Macbook.

Kelvin sported a mischievous smile. "Only with the other Black folks. We gotta stick together. There ain't but six of us, and two of them are married."

He quickly grew into one of her favorite people to see during the week while they worked side-by-side to meet deadlines and ward off culturally insensitive questions from well-meaning white folks trying to sell products to urban communities. She'd seen him be gregarious during long nights in the office filled with thumbtacks and beer from the bar cart. She'd also sat with him on Teams calls, saying nothing for some of the day while he quietly worked through lines to inspire consumers to do what they did best.

But she'd never seen him outside the strict confines of work culture. In public, they were free to cross the lines of office politics and show their true selves. Asia's true self included a departure from relaxed trousers and professional shoes to make way for short shorts and sky-high heels that accentuated a figure Kelvin couldn't help but notice.

His eyes slowly swept over her body while he finished his thought. "I'm in here because my boy just got his heart broken and needed some comfort. What you doin' in here? I ain't know Asia knew how to have fun!"

"Nah, I can have fun. I just don't like y'all like that."

"That is abundantly clear," he laughed. "You haven't had lunch with me in like two weeks. We got a problem?"

Asia chuckled at him, trying to press her while she pulled cash out of her purse to pay the bartender. "I knew you missed me. I've been busy. Kam's been on my ass about the Moet timelines, and I'm trying to slim down a little bit for my birthday trip anyway. I can't keep eating smash burgers with you three times a week." Kelvin listened as he lazily pushed her hand away as soon as he could reach it and replaced her payment method with his.

He lightly bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to look down at her legs again. "You definitely doin' that," he complimented, a flirtatious lilt thick in his delivery. "Make it up to me tonight."

"How?"

"Kick it with us. We won't be out that long." Kelvin used his head to gesture toward a table to people Asia assumed to be his friends. Two girls and three guys, leaving her to make the group even. He caught her trepidation and stepped a little closer so that she could see his face clearly under blinking strobe lights. "I got you. We can leave at any time if you want. Drinks on me."

Asia rolled her eyes. "I'm not askin' you to do that."

"You don't need to. I aim to please, love. C'mon."

Part of her wanted to refuse his invitation and use Sabrina as her scapegoat. After all, she did step out as one half of a pair.

Then, the other part directed her attention to the tall woman conspicuously making her way to the front entrance, her phone pressed to her ear, and an Uber waiting as her chariot to carry her away from the ball and to a man too shady to ever be a prince.

Kelvin stood awaiting her answer, his eyebrows doing a bit of a cha-cha as he made them wiggle.

Fuck it. "Alright. Start with a lemon drop, and make sure to introduce me as your favorite coworker. Really do your big one."

"Still demanding outside of the office. I like that." He bit his lip again, this time checking her out without shame. When she returned his brazen act with one of her own, he chuckled and flagged down someone who could really get the night going. "Aye, my man! Let me get something for my favorite coworker."

By the time he'd ushered her over to his group of way too cool art friends, Kelvin had dropped the coworker portion of Asia's title and shortened it to "my favorite."

They all sat huddled at a small booth in the back of the bar, nearly stacked on top of each other. It was Kelvin's idea for her to sit sandwiched between him and his homeboy, all but forcing her against his warm chest for any chance at comfort. It was his idea for the group to continue their conversation about sex and relationships even though it had fizzled to focus on a Black sitcom hierarchy debate. And it was absolutely his idea for him and Asia to hang back together once the other members of the group had set off to find comfort as pairs for the night.

She could only take credit for dropping the frills in their cocktails and settling for straight shots of her good friend, vodka.

Kelvin tossed back shot number he didn't know and let his mouth curl into a devious smirk while he watched Asia reapply clear lip gloss that caught the light just right. "You use dating apps, or you more of an organic meet-up type of lady?"

"I have profiles, but I can't tell you the last time I used one. And nobody is checking for me outside." Asia laughed quietly at the idea of someone approaching her for any reason other than asking for directions.

"What's so funny?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. That you think people are interested in me to the point that they're swiping right of whatever the fuck."

"So you just be on there for fun? Nothing is happening?" He scoffed to himself and plucked a lukewarm fry from a basket in front of him. "You're at least hooking up."

"I've never hooked up in my life."

Asia tried to rush past her drunk confession, tried to push away the words just as quickly as they'd entered the atmosphere, but Kelvin had already heard them.

He nodded, mostly to himself, then shrugged. "That's okay. Nothin' wrong with it. You waiting for marriage?"

"Fuck no," she scoffed. "I'm just waiting for someone nice enough to not make it weird. It's embarrassing enough being 30 and a virgin. Not really trying to make it weird by discussing it over appetizers."

"Like we doin' now?"

Asia laughed and finally took her shot while Kelvin watched her with the sheen of drunk thoughts clouding his eyes. He brushed her hair over her shoulder softly, his fingers lingering on her collarbone for a few seconds before he threw his arm over the top of the booth's seat and scooched lower, settling into a comfortable manspread.

"This is different. You're easy to talk to and not being creepy about it."

He nodded in understanding. "So somebody nice. What else?"

"I don't know. Somebody willing to teach and be patient. I'm a quick study. I just need the opportunity to learn somewhere safe." Vulnerability shared with a man she only kind of knew personally made Asia shrink in embarrassment as she rushed to clean up her verbal mess. "That's stupid to want, though. Nobody's trynna teach a grown woman how to fuck. I'm cool with missing out."

She'd started to try to cover her tracks so much that she didn't hear when Kelvin spoke back to her until the last words had tumbled from his lips in a broken sentence.

She doubled back. "Wait. What did you say?"

"I said I'll do it. I'll teach you."

"Teach me what?"

"How to fuck," he said so matter of fact that he sounded like he was talking about his grocery list or errands to run and not having sex. He continued despite the clear look of shock on Asia's face. "Only if you want me to. I'm cool either way."

"I-I mean…I don't…if you want. Maybe we shouldn't –."

He cut in and pointed at her shot glass. "You done or want another one?" Asia sputtered out that she'd had all she could drink in one night, and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket to pluck a credit card from his wallet's inventory. He tapped her hip to silently tell her to let him out, and she followed directions blindly for a reason she couldn't explain. Once he was standing, he looked down at her with a soft smile and kind eyes. "Just think about it and let me know. No pressure."

Asia didn't know what made her text Kelvin after work the following Thursday evening. All she knew was that he told her that his Friday was booked, but Saturday was all hers.

They agreed on him stopping by at 8:30 p.m., after anybody planning to go out had started their dressing routines and those intent on staying in had wrapped up any reason to leave the house and turned in for the evening. In her mind, that ensured none of her neighbors would see her bringing in a man clearly there for a singular purpose.

His prompt knock on her apartment door scared her even though she was the one who told him how to access guest parking, gave him a visitor's code, and told him her apartment number.

Wiping her sweating palms on her pajama shorts, she padded toward the door and took a deep breath before pulling it open.

He smirked when she came into view. "On the first knock? That's hospitable."

"Shut up," she admonished, though the joke had done its intended job and chipped away at building nerves. "And take off your shoes. There's fresh slippers in the basket if you need 'em."

Kelvin took Asia turning her back to him as an invitation to enter her apartment and to take a gander at the space he'd partially seen in meetings and their solo "work sessions."

Despite not being a hands-on creative, he could tell she had an appreciation for art. Reyna Noriega art prints and classic hip-hop album covers formed a gallery wall over her couch. A display of CDs that he had no idea people still collected sat stacked by a vintage boombox he was sure cost her a pretty penny. Potted monsteras and a well-loved fiddle leaf fig took up space beside a large window overlooking a bustling street below. It was clear she loved color from the maroon sectional in her quaint living room and the complementary pillows crowded in the corner he usually saw her sit in. He immediately recognized her desk and the lit 'on air' wall sign above it, making him feel like he knew something about her with the present situation carrying the kind of nervousness and uncertainty that typically came with first dates.

This wasn't a date, though. This was business—an agreement—a short-term arrangement for long-term success.

Asia cracked the seal on a fresh bottle of water before sliding it across the island to Kelvin, who took a generous sip from his spot in one of her barstools. She watched him intently as she stood on the other side, waiting for less abrupt words to populate her mind. They never came, and she couldn't stand the wait any longer.

She ran her hand up the back of her head to adjust flyaways beneath her fresh bun before speaking. "We should discuss a few ground rules…if that's cool."

"It's your world," he laughed. "I'm just here to help. By all means, go ahead."

Asia took a deep breath and then reached for her phone to navigate to the unnecessarily detailed note she spent the previous night typing out. "Okay. To start, I need to see your most recent test results, and they can't be older than three months from today's date."

"Cool," Kelvin shrugged, tapping at his phone screen before placing it back on the counter. "Those are from, like, two months ago. I can get you something more recent if that isn't enough."

A soft buzz in her hand signaled the delivery of his test results neatly packed in a PDF sent via iMessage, making her swallow a lump in her throat. Things were getting too real. She continued. "I'll…give those a look," she started, semi-impressed that he was keeping up with his health in that manner. "Next, no bondage or sub/dom play. I'm not into it. I haven't tried it, but I just know I'm not."

"Me neither. What's the next one?"

"We gotta use protection every time."

"Copy."

"No staying the night."

"I don't like it over here that much anyway."

Amusement tugged at Kelvin's lips while he watched her scroll further down her list. Deep brown skin. She had narrow hips that almost duped you into thinking there was no ass behind her. Strong thighs. A beautiful smile. A good head on her shoulders. Perfect lips. Pretty —

Kelvin blinked back into the present when he heard his name called. "Say that again. My fault."

Asia rolled her eyes and spoke a little louder. "We can't change our behavior at work. No one can know about this."

"Bet." He was so nonchalant all the time, so unbothered by the circumstances no matter the topic at hand. Deadlines didn't matter. Client gripes and regroup after regroup did little to deter him. He'd always shrug his shoulders under one of his many distressed hoodies and proceed unphased. Kelvin took another sip of water before answering the question he sensed in Asia's eyes. "I'm rolling off of the only work we share anyway, so we won't interact that much."

"Woah, how come?" Asia caught her reaction and tried to dial her sadness back a bit. "I mean, you're… you're not leaving, right?"

Kelvin flashed a toothy grin while adjusting the blue velour durag tied tight on his head. "Nah, I'm still around for now. I raised my hand to take on some pitch work for a challenge. I'm bored." He paused to turn his lips up in an accusatory pout. "You gon' miss me, huh?"

"Stop trying to distract me. Which brings me to my next rule: no kissing during sessions or otherwise. Let's try to keep this as platonic as possible."

"Oh, nah." The one rule Asia assumed Kelvin would accept with no pushback was the one that gave him the most pause. He twisted his face into one of instant disapproval. "I don't have sex with people I can't kiss or hang out with. I know it's just physical, but I still need to like you as a person. Nah. We gotta kiss. Go get some food every once in a while. Something. Nah."

He was adamant and unyielding in his need for physical and emotional intimacy despite their arrangement not being one meant for the comforts of a relationship.

Asia noted his gripe and raised a hand in surrender while she backspaced in her note. "Okay, okay. We can kiss. I'm probably not that great at it, but — "

"You don't need to worry about what you're good at with me. Nobody goes to swim lessons expected to know how to swim. I'm teaching, and you're learning. That's the point of all this."

Stunned silence dropped Asia's jaw for a half second until she had enough nerve connections in her brain to pick it up and try to salvage her image. Kelvin tried to hide his smile behind his near-empty plastic water bottle while he watched her with satisfaction dancing in his eyes. For someone usually so poised, so sure of themselves as they moved through the tiny world that overlapped between them, Asia was flustered easily. A crack in the armor. Endearing. It made her human to Kelvin, who saw her as a mythical creature filled with unattainable magic.

Standing, Kelvin pulled his hoodie over his head, a question muffled as he disappeared behind thick fabric. "Can I ask you some stuff, or is this more of an interview? I know I got movie star charm, but I do like a back-and-forth every once in a while. Keeps me humble."

"Oh, brother," Asia groaned. "Ask what you gon' ask, Kelvin, before I change my mind."

A glimpse at his abdomen as his disrobing incidentally lifted the crisp white tee beneath did all the heavy lifting to stir Asia into crackling embers of desire masked by a deteriorating cool exterior.

He caught her looking, eyes wide like deer in headlights and winked on his way to plop down on her couch. "This is niiice," he drew out, scooting deeper to get comfortable. Where you get this? Don't let me find out you've been letting me pay for lunch, and you're rich."

"That's why I gave you a break the last few weeks. See how I look out for you." she joked, earning a dimpled smile in return. "Now, ask your question."

Kelvin called her over with a quick tilt of his head and a disarming smile. "Come over here first."

In her inner monologue, Asia passed the blame for her slow walk toward him to the fleeting gleam of his earrings under her bamboo floor lamp acting as a homing signal. In reality, it was simple attraction. Bare bones, uncomplicated attraction. He was boyishly handsome, the type of man you meet in college and remain "friends" with until one of you gets bored. Clean facial hair, glowing skin, straight white teeth, a sturdy hairline – all the makings of a classically fine man. What he lacked in height, he made up in personality and a beguiling genuineness.

That's what carried her the few steps from the kitchen to Kelvin's side, her eyes low until he tugged her down into his lap. He chuckled into her ear as his soft hands rubbed a soothing path up and down her exposed thigh while he cradled her. "You ever hear your neighbors in here?"

"That was your question, Kelvin? If I can hear my neighbors? Not usually, no."

He quietly scanned the corners of the room, nodding to himself in silent confirmation, then looked back at Asia with a lazy smile. His lips pecked at her neck before he spoke against her delicate skin. "And I wanted you to tell me about Friday. I saw you got the Hustle this week. That's big, girl. Congratulations."

His deep mumbles vibrated across Asia's body, awakening nerve endings in places she didn't know could feel so electrified. Her legs tensed as she fought for a response. "Thank you. I…I wasn't expecting it."

"I don't know why. You been bustin' your ass. Stayin’ late…” His voice trailed as his fingers danced across her stomach to the waistband of her shorts, hovering. Waiting. Teasing. "Comin' early. Skipping lunches. The least they could do is recognize you."

All of Asia's words came out in a needy rush of air. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I know so." Long, deft fingers slid into Asia's shorts and over her thin underwear, looking for tension to relieve. "Tell me to stop whenever you want." Kelvin kept his lips attached her neck just as his hold on her waist tightened and her eyelids started to flutter closed. He spoke low and smooth, like warm honey. "What'd you do today?"

A sigh and a whimper tumbled from her lips, fragmented and surprised. "I…I went to the farmer's market. The one uptown by the Whole F-foods."

"What'd you get? More of that fruit juice you let me taste?"

"Mhm."

Asia had something else to say, something possibly important, had it popped up at a different time. However, the words faded into a haze of disjointed thoughts once Kelvin started making slow revolutions against her clothed center. The spot grew wetter with each pass. He listened to her try to breathe for a few seconds with the ghost of a smile on his lips while he focused on easing her into more stimulation.

He rubbed his nose against her cheek to gently direct her to say more. "And what else? Focus on that so I can focus on you."

Heat came first. An uncontrollable, blazing internal heat radiated from Asia's shoulders to her clenched toes. The fire inside created steam in her mind that needed a minute to clear before she could mentally wipe it away and think about the moments in her day that meant more than having her body controlled by a man who, less than a week ago, had never even seen her ankles.

"Lunch," she panted. "I had lunch at…at a, um, a vegan spot. It was terrible. I…oh my God…I wasted my money."

"You're vegan?"

"No. Just…thought I'd try something different today."

"Oh yeah?" Kelvin pulled his hands away long enough to lick the tips of his fingers before returning them further south. Slick and searching for warmth, he carefully led them into her panties for skin-to-skin contact. "You're full of surprises today, huh?"

Asia's answer became a shuddering sigh that never quite let all the air out of her lungs before she went to inhale.

They sat like that for what felt like forever. Asia breathing in an uneven pattern, eyes closed and twitching behind crinkled lids. Kelvin slowly, deliberately circling the center of her pleasure with his nose pressed to her neck, inhaling the shea and sandalwood body wash coating her skin. Both of them caught up in the rapture of an impromptu lesson one.

Kelvin snuck his free hand beneath Asia's shirt, caressing his way to both nipples that ached for contact. He ran his thumb across his favorite one a few times over before cupping her entire breast to gently hold it in the palm of his hand.

"I didn't know this was the first session," Asia whispered as her body grew rigid and wetness coated her thighs, the words almost lost to the low roar of her dishwasher across the room.

"It doesn't have to be. Consider it a chemistry test," he answered. "Wanna stop?"

Asia rushed to answer, "No! Stay right there…please."

Hearing her beg for his touch, for the feeling he was producing, sent Kelvin into a tailspin of emotions that he fought to put back into the mental box he never planned to open. But he couldn't escape the burning desire to press kisses from her shoulder to the corner of her lips. "Look at you. I think you know what you want," he commented as he increased the pace to elicit the whimper she tried to keep tucked away. "Don't be shy. Speak up."

She couldn't. Even with the words knocking against the container of her mind like cold rainwater on a tin roof, she couldn't fight the sighs and sultry mewls taking precedence over making requests. All she could squeak out as her stomach clenched to welcome the first shocks of impending orgasm was a measly whimper.

"That's okay," he murmured. "We can work on it. Breathe deep for me."

Or don't breathe at all. Asia's lungs chose the second option, involuntarily holding in a breath to receive the single digit tentatively plunging inside her while tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. Kelvin kissed away the initial shock until she nervously returned the affection.

It was all too good. The taste of mint on his tongue, the feeling of his hands dragging out every sigh and sound she could concoct, the way his moans mingled with hers, how his eyes seemed to try and convey something more than the carnal situation they'd found themselves in – all too good and far exceeding expectations.

Plush lips moved against each other like seasoned lovers, syncing up without much pomp and circumstance. Asia was right. She was a quick study. She'd learned the ebbs and flows of a solid kiss in no time as she relaxed into Kelvin's touch. Nervousness had quickly dissipated into familiar passion, loosening the bolts on what they both assumed would be an awkward first encounter.

Her hips swiveled against his lap in time with each push and pull of his middle finger. She could handle more. She deserved more.

When his ring finger joined the show, Kelvin pulled away from their lip lock to let Asia's throaty moan ping off the walls and ceiling. "There she is," he cooed against her lips. "I knew you had it in you."

Her private time had nearly gone unrivaled until he came along. She'd mastered how to get herself off efficiently with nothing more than a little mental stimulation and time on her hands. This was different. This was exhilarating. Having praise and pleasure in equal measure scratched an itch that she'd almost believed would never be satiated. Now, she had her first taste of a drug she wasn't sure she wanted to quit.

Kelvin's reminder to breathe echoed through Asia's mind as her body welcomed release. Waves of warmth cascaded across her limbs to match the near sob in her throat. Sweat pooled beneath her t-shirt. He kept his lips pressed to hers, creating a heady feeling that juxtaposed the pressure quaking her insides and sending her essence all over his knuckles. Her breathing all but stopped until the slow tingle of feeling returning to her toes reminded her that not only was she still alive, but her coworker still had his hands in her pants and a silly, self-satisfied grin on his lips.

"You sound so pretty when you're not yelling at me through a screen." Kelvin pulled his fingers out of her warmth and immediately stuck them into his mouth for the taste he'd been fiending for. Asia watched him with shock and intrigue on her face as he hummed in approval at his reward for all his hard work. "And you acted like you didn’t wanna kiss but you're not bad at it. I've had way worse."

Asia's rolling eyes matched the deadpanned response she used to hide how flustered she was. "Oh, great. I was starting to worry," she scoffed. "Get out of my house, Kelvin. I'll see you next weekend. Same time?"

A pang of disappointment hit him as she stood to scurry toward her bathroom without sparing him a second look. "We don't have to be like that," he called after her. "It's up to you, but I got a Disney bundle and Uber One until the end of the month. And you gotta eat, right?"

"I guess so," Asia answered, leaning on the frame with her arms crossed while she quietly committed the dimples in Kelvin's cheeks to memory. "Can we get something I can put hot sauce on?"

"You want your Wednesday usual?"

She smirked and turned her back to leave. "Don't go browsing around my Netflix messing up my recommendations and shit. Wait 'til I come back!"

Kelvin kept his smart remark to himself and sank deeper into the couch to scroll through dinner options until he found his target. An intentional lick of his lips when he knew he was completely alone brought Asia back into the room by taste and imagination, reinvigorating a stirring below the navel that he couldn't relieve until he was in the privacy of his own thoughts.

Adjusting himself to find relief, Kelvin released a low chuckle and licked his lips again for the thrill.

All business and no play was boring. Next Saturday couldn't come soon enough.

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#kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr. x black oc

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prettieinpink · 1 year ago

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Being that girl once again- back to school!

It’s back to school season everyone, and my favourite times of the year. In this post im going to give you stuff to do for back to school + advice in specific areas of your school life! I hope everyone can take away something from this post <3

THINGS TO DO BEFORE BACK TO SCHOOL <3

Revise your past term content in your core subjects, ensure there’s nothing you do not understand(it’s better to understand now than have to understand later)

Review what you are going to be learning for this current term in your core subject, you don’t have to study it, just familiarise yourself.

Catch up with your friends- hang out, call or text before the new school term. My favourite thing is to create predictions of drama, couples etc in the upcoming term w my girlies!

Create SMART goals for you to achieve that term, in any aspect you want. I say; 1 goal for academics, 1 goal for social and 1 goal for extracurriculars/sports.

Clean your room !! do a deep clean and declutter. E.g wipe down all surfaces, hover pillows, vacuum floor, clean mirrors, take out any clothes you dislike

Do an everything shower + face masks!!

ACADEMICALLY

Everyday afterschool, revise everything that you’ve learnt today + the things that you struggle on

Anytime you get homework, complete it as soon as possible. Most of the time, it’s easy and non time consuming.

Create study guides for exams/tests while actually learning instead of when the assessments are actually coming up. It saves you a lot of time, which you can use for studying effectively.

If you don’t already, have a specific learning/studying style that works for you. E.g flashcards, blurting, mind map, spaced repetition, the feynman technique. (ofc you can have multiple). Just know the pros and cons of each studying technique.

Or, what I do is that I assign specific studying techniques to different subjects e.g science - blurting, HASS - flashcards, maths - the feynman technique. This may be different to what you have the most success learning.

Have a place, time every day or at least most days, where you can study without distractions. I like to study at the library afterschool, it’s chill and literally void of any distractions.

The only advice in which i’ll say is not optional– do practise questions under the said test conditions. Stop using websites, listening to music, being on your phone etc. Get in the zone and transfer the environment.

SOCIALLY

Make an effort to say hi or goodbye to some people, even if you do not know them that well. If you’re up for it, ask them how they are going or how their day has been.

Start remembering names and birthdays. This will literally make people like you so much more, it’s so simple but people swoon over this. Process names in your mind and write down birthdays in your calendar.

Don’t be afraid to talk to others. Most people do not care if you talk to them, and some are glad that you talk to them. This is how people become well-known or well-liked.

Watch videos on how to converse with people you do not know well effectively and become close with them. TED x has a lot of videos on this, and are usually helpful.

Don’t try to fit in with the crowd. It’s so draining, and even if you think they do, they most likely dislike you(sorry!) . Instead, find/be with your people.

Join a club/extracurricular. You meet so many like-minded people this way, while still developing your own skills. I say everyone should at least have one solid extracurricular.

If you are in a talking stage, three weeks is enough time for him or you to decide if you’re willing to date them. It’s not the 1920s anymore, we have imessages, facetime, skype and others to communicate and get to know each other without contact

Call out your friends if you notice them doing something toxic or generally anything they shouldn’t do. E.g gossiping, getting mad at others, bullying someone. If they continue, it will influence you in the long run.

MENTALLY

Reframe your mindset. I know most of us do not favour school, but do not dwell on negativity and find ways to be positive/neutral about your circumstances. You’ll feel so much better.

Detach. Detachment is literally essential in highschool, there’s so much drama and most likely you will somehow get tied up in it. Stop absorbing what happens and let it influence you, observe what happens and learn from it. I have a post on this here.

Start saying affirmations everyday. I know affs are usually viewed as a manifestation thing, but it doesn’t have to be. It can be a simple one minute way to cultivate a neutral/positive perspective of yourself.

Journal. Things will happen, so journaling is a great way to discuss your circumstances, feelings, trauma, relationships etc and develop a sense of identity at the same time. I have a post on this here.

Meditate. It can be go-go-go constantly, but just take a break and gain some mental clarity and see how much better you feel decluttering your mind.

Embrace a change and growth mindset, especially in an environment where we are constantly required to adapt.

PHYSICALLY

Start stretching.. seriously. You sit at a desk for like 5 hours a day excluding lunch and recess, everyday, which is of course going to do a number on your body. It can relieve pain in many different areas.

Have at least 1 form of exercise you do everyday. I know being students, we have to sit at a desk constantly. But, do not give up on practising good exercise habits. Not only can it help with results, it’s good for you.

Get the recommended sleep of 6-8 hours per night, which is good quality sleep without disruptions. It helps with long term memory and you’ll feel better.

Start packing healthy but tasty lunches to school instead of buying. You’ll save so much money in the long run, and it’s better for your body.

BEAUTY

Get your uniforms tailored just a bit. Not too noticeable, but enough that it fits better on your body. Especially for button formal shirts, as they make you look 10 times as bulky than what you actually are.

Buy new jewellery, earrings, necklaces or whatever you’re allowed. Subtle but noticeable jewellery makes girls look so pretty.

Learn new hairstyles!! Don’t just wear the same hair everyday, mix it up, it’s fun and makes you look attractive.

Get a good eyebrow gel + clear mascara. Legit life changer, I look so much better everyday because I look put together without make up.

apply vaseline on areas you would apply highlight, but avoid your eye area.

Have a good skincare regime!! Being a student is stressful, getting pimples is a sign of stress.

Okay that's it. Happy back to school everyone! Here’s an affirmation for you <3

I am intelligent and capable. I am skilled and confident in my abilities. I am perceived well by others. I am healthy. I am wealthy. I am looking for this term to be full of good grades, vibes, friends, growth and fun.

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wordsarelife · 4 months ago

Text

—twenty-two

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: you try to make theo a swiftie and succeed

warnings: none

note: kinda modern au, considering reader has a phone and a working internet connection (technology works at hogwarts in this fic)

you’d always known theo was a tough nut to crack, but you were determined. if there was one mission you were set on, it was getting him to appreciate the artistry of taylor swift. he could roll his eyes all he wanted, but you weren’t giving up. not when there was so much he was missing out on.

it started with small things—playing folklore in the common room when you knew he was studying nearby, leaving your taylor swift playlist on shuffle when he happened to be sitting with you in the library. he never said anything, just raised a brow or gave you a look, but you could tell. the seed had been planted.

you started to go a bit deeper, always choosing the right song or album for theo's mood at the moment.

you would play lover or red when you were getting ready and theo was watching you sort through clothes or put on makeup with a content smile on his face.

you played folklore or evermore during quiet nights in the common room, with thick socks and fluffy blankets in front of the warm glow of the fireplace.

he was not ready to admit it yet, but you could see that theo didn't mind as much as he used to. he never actually said something, about liking her music, but he had stopped frowning when you took out your phone and opened your music app.

one time, in the middle of studying, you even saw him bop his head along to 'you belong with me', which quickly turned out to be his favorite, because his mood would rise anytime you played it.

"aren't you putting on any music?" theo asked one day while on a walk through the hogwarts grounds.

"well, do you want me to?" you retorted, a winning smile on your face.

he shrugged. "i don't care. just thought it was odd"

you didn't miss the slight smile once you had pressed play on speak now or how he took your hand in yours, connecting them to the enchanting melody of mine.

the following night both of you stayed up longer, per theo's demand, so you could explain to him the lore of taylor swift and kanye west.

theo was pretty laid back and usually not interested in any drama, but he was kind of intrigued as long as no one he closely knew was involved.

you recounted everything that had happened between your favorite singer and kim kardashians husband. theo nodded along understandingly, throwing in his own questions at the appropriate times.

"i didn't know that there was so much backstory"

"crazy, right?" you asked, wide-eyed. "but if that hadn't happened we wouldn't have reputation now"

"what?"

"it's another album" you shrugged "it's called reputation"

"did we ever listen to that one?" he asked, recounting all the times you had shown him some of her stuff, while you had always made sure to mention what album the song you were listening to was on.

"no" you shook your head.

"why? you clearly like it"

"it's one of my favourites" you nodded, deep in thought "i never showed you because i didn't want to listen it as long as it wasn't a taylor's version yet"

"a what?"

his question resulted in twenty more minutes of backstory. theo's eyes widened as you explained the lore of the rerecordings to him.

"i guess i could show you the album through youtube" you muttered, taking out your phone "fan accounts that made lyric videos should be alright to watch"

theo and you spent the better time of the rest of the night watching fan-made videos for the songs on reputation. you could tell that he was obsessed immediately, going as far as taking out his phone and screenrecording the songs he liked most.

"they are amazing" he gushed as he recorded so it goes, which seemed to be his favorite off the album.

"told you" you shrugged, a soft smile on your lips as you watched his amazement grow. "it's not embarassing to admit that i was right"

"should've listened to you, baby" he muttered, pressing his face into the pillow next to him. you moved a hand through his hair. "i like it"

"i know" you kissed his temple. you put your phone on the nightstand after searching for a playlist of calm taylor songs to fall asleep to. "now we can enjoy her together"

theo pulled you into his arms, his voice humming along to the tunes of last kiss, as both of you slowly fell asleep.

after that night, theo added a few taylor swift songs to his regular playlists (he had different ones for different moods) and made a habit to learn the lyrics to his favorites.

one time, when him and blaise were out for a smoke, theo put on one of the playlists (smoke and relax) and the shuffle promptly landed on delicate.

blaise quickly noticed who was singing, considering your simple overuse of her music during study time with your friends, making fun of theo almost immediately.

"taylor swift, really?" he puffed out the smoke through his mouth, quirking a brow at theo.

theo simply shrugged. "y/n loves her"

"you don't have to like everything your girlfriend does, you know man?" blaise muttered "you're allowed to have your own interests, taylor swift shouldn't be one of them"

"yeah? why not?"

"huh?" blaise had been a bit surprised by theo's quick and simple answer. "you're not a girl, mate"

"thank you, i'm aware"

theo's sarcasm clearly annoyed blaise, as he threw his cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out in the snow, before he turned to head inside. "don't let it change you, man" he smirked. "you're not a swiftie or whatever they're called"

"i might as well be" theo shrugged, not even bothered at this point.

"you're doing weird shit to get laid"

"yeah, maybe if you would put in the same effort you would get laid too, ever considered that?" theo smirked, clearly amused by the shocked expression that crossed blaise's face.

"so, uh..which album would you recommend?"

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forlix · 1 year ago

Text

"i did a thing." or, hyunjin needs an expert opinion about his newest piercing.

words・1.4k / pairing・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader / genres・fluff, established relationship / author's note・takes place in the same universe as places, places! and crying lightning but can be read on its own. @astraystayyh your children are back :’)

The parlor door jingles. Hyunjin emerges onto the chilled pavement with his phone pressed to his ear, and you pick up on the fourth ring.

“What is it? I’m busy.” The way your voice shrinks substantiates this claim, like you’ve darted to the other end of the room promptly after accepting his call. “And you’re on speaker.”

Hyunjin ducks into his car and sits back against the nylon with a grateful sigh. He finds himself constantly ill-prepared for Seoul’s Januarys. “Busy with who? Remind me.”

“You wanna say hi?” You ask the person in your company. Who is it? He hears them ask, to which you answer: Hyunjin. You say it softly, in the sense that you’re far away and speaking under your breath, but softly, in the sense that your tongue caresses every syllable of his name with that tacit fondness he’ll never tire of.

He notices the ditzy smile on his face only when he glances into his rear-view. He’s long given up on wiping it off.

A familiar voice drifts into your receiver. “Mr. Hwang!”

Ah, that’s right—you’re working on Aespa’s new music video for the next two weeks. Today must be the first day of filming.

“Hey, Ningning! How are you?”

“In a predicament, honestly. I have the biggest crush on my stylist, but so does this other guy…”

“Damn, sounds tough. Best of luck.”

“Oh, I won’t need luck. I said predicament, not competition.”

His jaw hits his wheel. “Okay, we’re boxing. Let’s go. Earrings off.”

“Say less!"

You’ve withstood enough. “Alright, nobody is boxing anyone—do not touch your earrings, Ning, what’s wrong with you? God, Hyunjin!”

Now you say his name sternly, hopelessly, like he’s just knocked ten years off your lifespan. He almost likes this version more. He fell in love with you listening to it, after all.

“Did you call for any reason aside from threatening my clients?”

Oh, right. He did.

Hyunjin glances into the rear-view again, intentionally this time. He moves aside a lock of maroon hair to review the silver studs glinting off his right eyebrow.

He smirks.

“Am I allowed on set?”

Half an hour later, Hyunjin reaches the filming site and runs into a few staff members who are so surprised to see him they nearly forget to question what he’s doing there.

But they do their job, and he humors them, utters your name and the word “boyfriend” back to back. Then he watches their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines and basically prances into the dressing rooms.

He loves that everyone knows you. He loves that everyone knows that he loves you.

You were out of bed before he opened his eyes this morning, and he blooms at his first sight of you today, alone in the lounge, curled up on the couch and browsing through your phone. Eyeshadow stains your fingers and a pen sits behind the cuff of your ear. Your figure is framed in a (his) white cardigan with a red heart stitched over its left lapel. So professional, so pretty, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he uses his words instead.

“I did a thing,” he says, plopping onto the cushion next to you.

You look at him, shut off your phone. “I figured.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“No.”

It was worth a shot. “Can you blink, at least? You’re scaring me.”

In turn, you stretch open your eyes and hold them there. “A blink would be more than you deserve right now.”

Insufferable. He unleashes a bashful laugh and singular clap and looks back at you just in time to see a matching smile on your cordate lips. And to see you blink.

“Seriously, though, no more suspense,” you plead. “What on earth did you do? Should I be worried?”

You tuck your hand around his bicep and tug lightly at his arm, and his insides pirouette at the gesture.

“No, no,” he answers, letting you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I was being dramatic. It’s nothing, really.”

You catch him as he’s trying to leave. A light finger hooks beneath his chin, an anchor to keep his face a mere few inches away from yours.

You look him in the right eye, then in the left, your expression stoic, scrutinizing. He doesn’t remember where he looks, in the meantime. He’s slipping and sliding out of his right mind, drinking in your long lashes and curved cheeks, wondering what heroic deed he performed in his last life to be able to study beauty in such proximity in this one.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” You query, tracing the tip of your pointer finger over Hyunjin’s cupid’s bow.

“No,” he exhales. “It’s not nothing.”

“Did you get it on your face?”

Of course you already know.

He nods, and the finger moves to his lower lip, gently indenting the glossy plush.

“Hot or cold?”

“Cold.”

The finger runs over the bridge of his nose, then the perimeter of its prominence, like the drag of a feather.

“Warmer.”

You lift a brow, give the side of his face a small nudge, and say, turn. The word comes out in a very stylist-esque manner, and you and Hyunjin realize this at the same time, judging by the synchrony of your quiet chuckles.

“Force of habit,” you murmur, and move his hair out of the way and lean in to examine his ear. Nothing new there. He turns his face the other way before you have to ask. Nothing new there, either.

When he looks at you again, your gaze has locked onto his eyebrows. You cock your head slightly to one side as it dawns on you what he’s done.

“Warmer,” he offers anyways, his smile small, his pulse rapid.

With a flourish of movement, you push his purple locks all the way off his forehead. Hyunjin holds his breath. Your expression goes blank.

But it’s not blank, not really. One just has to know where to look. (He does.)

Your eyes darken fast as if caught in a solar eclipse, your pupils doubling in size, your irises quivering slightly. Your mouth opens, then closes, then purses into a thin line as if suppressing something explosive. Your cheeks blush at their very outskirts, along the edges of your face and the slants of your cheekbones, like how the first rays of sunlight always skim the mountaintops first.

He hardly notices the finger you bring to brush over the studs, so carefully he doesn’t feel the contact.

He’s too busy basking in his victory.

Neither of you say anything for a long while. You lean back, then right, then left, your hand pinned to his hairline, your gaze superglued to his brow. He simply sits still, feeling like one of your French girls, simpering, simping.

“You really did it,” you finally say.

“I did,” he chirps. “Any notes?”

At the next part of your lips, your waiting smile overtakes them at long last. You duck your head to conceal it like he hasn’t already melted at its mere image. You deliver your answer to your knees.

“No?” He repeats incredulously, teasingly. “That’s a shame. I really could’ve used an expert opinion.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to tug at your sockets. His boyish grin wipes away your feigned irritation like warm cotton.

“Fine,” you grouse. “Look at me.”

He does. You look back.

“It's nice," you deadpan.

Your resolve wobbles.

"Complements your face…shape.”

The ‘p’ sound pops, and you lose your shit.

The sun fully risen now, you bury your burning face into your hands, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Meanwhile, the raucous cackle that leaves Hyunjin’s lips causes the intern hurrying past the lounge outside to jump so high he actually lets go of his coffee cups before snatching them back out of the air with a relieved groan. He doesn’t get paid enough.

You think you’re getting paid too much.

“I love it, Hyun,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough."

His heart beats so rapidly he thinks it might take off into a sprint; his laugh dwindles into a ditzy smile, one he’s long given up on wiping off.

“You know nothing about that word,” he replies, softly.

You bring your lips to his. His fingers wrap around the crook of your elbow. Yours begin curled in the silken hair at the back of his head. The pen behind your ear falls into the cracks of the couch.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh against his mouth, your own statement debunked by the inevitable drift of your touch back to the metal lodged in his face.

He doesn’t need to call you out. You do it yourself: “Ugh. I’ll be mad at you later.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago

Text

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book.

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about.

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.”

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.”

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

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callooopie · 6 months ago

Text

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

#jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys x you #hotd season 2 #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #modern!jacaerys

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folkloresthings · 1 year ago

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seb + reader are in the car and they get in a fight. reader gets out of the car, it starts raining, and seb can’t find her and starts freaking out. when she finally gets home he’s super relieved and apologizes and they make up

vaguely inspired by the all too well tv (10 min vers.) music video but less toxicity 👍

BOILING POINT. ❨ sebastian vettel x reader ❩

the space between you had never been so tense. sebastian’s hands were gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, your nails nicking at the hem of your dress. it was almost dark out, and you were headed back from a fancy dinner with some of sebastian’s colleagues.

it was your first time meeting most of sebastian’s work friends. people higher up in red bull, bosses and executives and what not. you’d been nervous, but sebastian didn’t seem to think he needed to help ease your nerves. for the most part, you spent the night in the corner of the room, cradling a wine glass and making awkward small talk. sebastian was laughing and making jokes and brushed you off any time you tried to speak to him.

“so, you’re not speaking to me now either?” you mumble, hating the silence.

“you’re being dramatic,” sebastian sighs, head falling back against the headrest as he turns another corner.

“you barely said a word to me all night!” you exclaim, sitting up. you look over at him, his eyes fixed hard and cold on the road. “it was embarrassing!”

“i was working,” he hisses, glancing over at you briefly. “i didn’t have time to talk to you, because i had to impress those people if i want to keep my job. you know, the job that pays for your dresses and holidays and—”

“stop the car.”

sebastian looks over at you, cheeks red with frustration. “what?”

“i said, stop the car.” you can feel the tears stinging your eyes, sebastian’s words pulling at the wrong heartstring. he got like this sometimes, all hot and harsh, but he was never mean. not like that.

he laughs a little, under his breath, but pulls the car over anyway. he doesn’t expect you to actually get out, only to make your point and shout at him a little more and then go home. but you click the door open as soon as the car rolls to a halt and slam the door behind you.

“y/n!” he calls, rolling down the window. “get back in the car!”

you don’t listen, arms crossed and legs moving quickly. sebastian’s used to your stubbornness, and he’s still to caught up in his anger to apologise. “fine! i’ll meet you at home.”

about halfway there, the heavens open and it begins raining heavier than sebastian had anticipated. the rain seems to clear his thinking a little bit, turning the car around with a sharp sigh. he follows the exact same road he took, but you’re nowhere to be found. he tries some other back streets, and still nothing.

panic rises in him. you’re out there, somewhere, cold and wet and sad — and it’s all his fault.

thirty minutes of looking and no avail, sebastian heads back to the house in hopes of finding you. he could have cried when he sees you there, stood at the door, drenched. you spot the car pulling in, watching as sebastian switches off the ignition and climbs out.

“you’ve got the keys,” you tell him, justifying why you were simply stood on the doorstep. your cheeks are red and blotchy, eyes swollen from where you cried the whole way home. sebastian sighs, hurrying over to unlock the door and usher you both in.

“come on, take these off,” he’s quick to help you remove your coat, your shoes, every piece of clothing that’s soaked through. fetching you some pyjamas, he helps you put those on too. when you’re sat at the end of the bed, still not speaking, hair towelled dry and mascara staining under your eyes, sebastian caves.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters, kneeling between your legs. begging for forgiveness. “i should have been better tonight. i should have kept you by my side, showed you off. i shouldn’t have said all of that stuff — i’m an idiot.”

you sniffle, letting his hands wander over you, lips pressing apologetic kisses to your thighs, your stomach, your hands.

“i’ve got the perfect woman, and i act like a fool,” he admits, reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, kissing your cheeks. “i’m so sorry, liebe. you can hit me, if you want.”

it pulls a small smile from you, one he celebrates with a kiss to your lips. swiftly and easily does he lift you from under the arms, switching positions so he’s sat on the mattress, you on his lap.

“what can i do to make it up to you?” he gives you a suggestive smirk, fingers dipping under your waistband. “give me the word and i’m yours, baby.”

you can’t help but smile, shifting a little in his lap, pulling a small groan from your boyfriend. “hm. don’t think you deserve that tonight — but some hot chocolate would be lovely.”

he groans again, this time in despair, falling back into the mattress and taking you with him. you giggle, tucking your head in his neck as he attacks you with kisses. eventually giving up, leaving you to curl up under the duvet as he drags himself to the kitchen. when your hot chocolate comes, it’s a work of art, topped with cream and marshmallows and chocolate shavings.

“only the best for my love.”

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#💌 ﹐ writings.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #sebastian vettel blurb #sebastian vettel drabble #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader

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bugs1nmybrain · 7 months ago

Text

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shiggy x reader #shigaraki angst #bipolar shigaraki

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antoncyng · 11 months ago

Text

another small drabble because these kind of plots have been on my mind ever since the video of jennie surprising rose on her fancall 2 years ago.. can you see where im going ? so imagine this with you and wonbin.. 🤍

surprise! - park wonbin

idol!bf!wonbin x nonidol fem!reader

warnings: complete fluff, wonbin as a whipped af bf, supportive reader gf, pet names (angel, baby, princess)

wc : 763

seeing your boyfriend of 3 and a half years get to the top of album charts internationally and in korea, it made you proud. at most times you felt like a proud mom watching her son grow into his dream, and wonbin always knew he had an amazing supportive girlfriend waiting for him at home after his long schedules. at first, the difference between schedules was a small problem when wonbin first debuted. RIIZE was busy everyday, music show after music show. and when they weren’t recording pre-recordings for music bank or inkigayo, they were recording songs. comeback after comeback, wonbin was tired! his favorite part of the day was being able to come home to his affectionate girlfriend, and listen to her day as he slowly falls asleep in her arms.

“baby i have to go now,” wonbin said with a small frown as he looked down at you, clinging onto the standing boys torso as you sat in bed, just woke up. “its so early, i dont want you to go yet” you said, mumbling the words into his shirt as you heard his chuckle at your actions. “i’ll be home soon tonight, we have a fancall and thats it okay? ill be back soon” he told you, gently brushing his fingers through your bed hair, looking up at him and nodding. he bent down to give you a last kiss for that morning before he left, leaving you home alone.

but you were planning something for wonbin, he told you multiple times before that he enjoyed talking to fans and interacting with them through calls, but he got very socially drained easily. and what was the cure to that? you. yes, you spent $650 on albums for your boyfriend to cheer him up while he did his job, and thankfully you got in! you used a different name, your english(or second) name that your parents gave you, the name wonbin definitely wouldn’t be able to tell its you.

POV CHANGE ; yns pov

i got out of bed, looking at the time and remembering my time slot, i had until 3:50 pm. it was currently 11:00 am, i had all the time in the world right now! i sat on the couch going through netflix, finding a show. i finished a few episodes and looked at the time, oh okay its just 3:00.. wait its 3:00 already?! oh my god i have to get ready for the fancall! i jumped off of the couch and ran to my room, changing only my top since wonbin wouldn’t be able to see my pants, then into the bathroom to get ready, i finished my makeup and looked at the time. perfect! 3:35, ill set up the phone and get ready for the call. i sat at my desk in me and wonbins shared room, my phone set up with my mirror lights on, a stand up background behind me with decorations and pictures of wonbin, feeling slightly cringed but excited to see his reaction. i checked the time again, 3:48, i should be getting the call anytime so-

*ring ring ring, ring ring ring*

the phone is ringing! okay, take a deep breath.. wait why am i so nervous? hes my boyfriend..

POV CHANGE BACK authors pov

you answer the video call, the staff holding up a piece of paper with the questions, “can you hear me when i say this?” she says hello and you nod, not wanting to use your voice yet in case wonbin was already listening. the staff held up an OK! 👌 hand and said “please wait”, soon enough you saw the phone being set up to a distracted wonbin, looking down at the album.

“hello? earth to wonbin?” you said with a big smile on your face, watching him snap his head up with a huge smile painted on his face as soon as he recognized your voice. “princess, what are you doing here? why would you buy my fancall?” he asked excitingly, before he got cut off by a younger members peeking his head into the camera. “hiiiii ynie!!” an excited sohee said, you waving to him as he got pushed and shooed away by wonbin. “i wanted to surprise you, i know you said your calls get tiring so i wanted to give you some energy,” you said smiling, then pointing to the background. “do you like it? i made it myself!” you said proudly, watching wonbins huge grin on his grow bigger.

“i love it, thank you angel, youll always be my number supporter hm?”

#antoncyng #riize imagines #riize x reader #antoncyng drabble #riize wonbin #wonbin #park wonbin #wonbin x reader #riize au #kpop au

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brownskinlemon · 8 months ago

Text

Midori Sour pt.1 (d.f.)

pairing: dominic fike x (photographer fem! reader)

word count: 3,711

summary: you attend your friend Omar's pool party. what happens when liquid courage and a certain curly-haired boy combine to change your perspective on LA?

warnings: (18+) explicit language, alcohol consumption (second part WILL contain smut) , MDNI!

author's note: i'm back! this is the first part of a two (maybe three) part story. this is loosely based off of my recent endeavors as a photographer who has literally only been to LA once in her life. enjoy :)

BONUS: listen to Hit Me Up by Omar Apollo + Dominic Fike for the full experience

The sun braised down the LA street as you stepped out the back of an uber, clad in a tank top and shorts, with a matching blue bikini set underneath. A duffle bag hangs on your shoulder as you approach the front door, ringing the doorbell. Your eyes scan the scenic neighborhood around you as you wait for it to open, as you take notice of the faint music and laughter you could hear around the other side of the grand house. You were brought out of your thoughts by the front door swinging open, immediately being wrapped up in a warm hug from the man in front of you.

“Y/N!”

“Hi Omar!” You chuckled, muffled into his chest.

“Come in! Everyone’s in the back.” He steps aside, letting you in. “You can go down the hall and find an empty guest room for your stuff, there should be…at least a few.” His words slurred slightly.

“The pool party just started and you’re already drunk huh?” You smirked, closing the door behind you.

“I am the party Y/N. It was 5PM somewhere when I started drinking.” He raises his eyebrows, walking backwards towards the back door. A chuckle escaped your throat, making you shake your head at his antics.

You originally met Omar during the filming of one his music videos as a production assistant. You were new to working in LA, and he was a breath of fresh air to the hectic energy of the city, and you guys became friends almost instantly. This wasn’t the first party of his you had been invited to, but you were not the most keen on thrusting yourself into a scene full of famous people, it felt almost like you were interrupting something unspoken. You accepting today’s invitation was an attempt at getting over that hump, and trying to have a life outside of work.

You watched as he walked out, music blaring from the backyard momentarily before being muffled by the now-closed door.

You made your way down the hall, poking your head into the different doors, finding the first few were already claimed.

I wonder who else is here, you thought.

You stopped near the end of the hall, finally landing on an empty room. You placed your bag on the bed, sauntering back down the hall to meet everyone outside. You braced yourself, peeking through the backdoor, surprised at the amount of people out there. You were too distracted by the buzz and activity of it all to notice the boy standing behind you, until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

He cleared his throat, prompting you to whip your head around to meet his gaze. Surprised was too simple of a word to describe the feeling that overcame you as you realized who it was. Dominic fucking Fike. He was taller than you remember him looking when you saw him on stage a few years back, curls slightly damp and a warm tan dancing across his toned body. He was holding a few bottles of vodka in his grasp.

“Do you mind opening the door for me?” He asked, seemingly unphased by your staring and silence.

“Oh, uh..yeah! Yeah. Sorry.” You jumbled out, stepping aside to slide the door open for him.

He chuckled lightly. “Thank you so much.” He walks out a few feet. “You’re the best.” He says over his shoulder, walking over to the outdoor bar. You made your way to an empty chair, ridding yourself of your shorts and tank top. Sure, you were slowly getting used to meeting celebrities in your line of work, but you sure weren’t used to being that close to most of them half naked in such an informal setting.

You watched across the pool, watching Dominic as he joined a group of people. It was almost palpable, the amount of awe and admiration that everyone seemed to have for him, and you couldn’t blame them. He threw his head back in laughter, and if you listened close enough you could hear it faintly through the music. His eyes scanned the pool before landing back on you, freezing you in your place. You swallowed thickly as his eyes scanned over you, intensely analyzing you piece by piece, before connecting with yours again.

What the fuck. Did I just get checked out by..no. Maybe?

Just as quick as you spotted him though, he was gone.

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, snapping out of your trance to scan the chaos for Omar, seemingly the only person here that you knew. You found him near the edge of the large pool, finishing up a conversation with a couple who looked like they were getting a little too comfortable under the water.

He turned to you as you approached him, tilting his head to the side as he caught a wave of your unsure eyes and tense body language. He unwrapped your arms from your chest, dropping one of your arms to pull you with him lightly to the bar.

“You’re way too tense, and frankly, too fucking sober.” You both arrived at the bar, and you watched as he scanned the seemingly endless options of alcohol, settling on an unflavored vodka.

“Luckily, you are just in time for shot o’ clock.” You watched as he poured you both up double shots, dancing and humming along to whatever song was currently playing.

You clink your glasses together, throwing your head back and the shot with it. As the shot begins to flood heat through your chest, you lean up against the bar, and you hear Omar yell across the backyard.

“Dom! Come here bro!” He waves his hands obnoxiously. You watch over your shoulder as the boy finally arrives, leaning up against the bar with you. “ Have I introduced you to Y/N? She’s my favorite girl everrr. She makes music videos!"

You look up at the tall man, as he turns his head to scan a gaze up and down your body, finally tracing his eyes up to meet your eyes. His gaze was low and red, the obvious red cup in his hand and joint tucked behind his ear clued you into why.

“We met in the kitchen, she helped me get the fucking booze out here. She’s a life saver.” He says, his sultry gaze not leaving your eyes. “Dominic.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake.

“I know.” You raise your eyebrows, shaking his hand.

“I forget I’m technically a, celebrity kinda, I hate that fucking word. But it’s nice to formally meet you.” He says, taking a gulp from his red gulp.

“What’s in your cup? That looks a little empty.” Omar leans over the counter, peering into Dominic’s cup.

“It’s-”

“Doesn’t matter. You made it just in time for shot o’clock.” Omar smiles from ear to ear. He dishes out a third shot cup, filling all three to the brim with vodka. You all clink them together, and you find that this shot is easier to take back than the previous, almost too smooth. You close your eyes relishing in how the base thrumming you begins to feel amazing, causing you to sway back and forth. Omar comes from around the bar, dancing with you.

Dominic can’t help the way his eyes fixate on the fluidity of your hips, and the blissed out look on your face. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he watches as the tense body language he observed across the pool earlier seemingly dissolved, now drenched in liquid confidence. A different type of heat begins to blaze through him at the sight.

You had finally begun to open up, taking the next hour leading up to sunset to make your way around the party. You had met a group of girls in the bathroom, thrown a bit of ass, and flirted with one person to your memory. You were at least 6 shots deep now, the anxiety from earlier nonexistent. Unbeknownst to you, Dominic had snuck glances as you made your journey around the party, and it seemed every time he had the grand idea to actually have a conversation with you, you were gone.

As time passed, the large crowds migrated, emptying the backyard until it was you, Dominic, Omar, and a few of their mutual friends left in the pool.

You all were in the water now, bouncing mindless conversation off of one another. You couldn’t help but take notice of the red head stuck to Dominic’s side that had not been here earlier. He barely paid her any mind, but she seemed completely enamored by him. It was strange to say, but you did indeed feel a sense of jealousy at the possessiveness she had over the boy, there was something about him that made you wanna talk to him and she was making it almost impossible. You caught him occasionally sneaking glances at you as you made conversation with other people. The red head also found herself unable to keep sharp glares from flying in your direction, seemingly unwarranted.

An idea suddenly came to you. “Omarrr.” You drawled on, smiling as he turned to you excitedly. “Do you have melon liquor?”

He took a moment, eyebrows furrowing in thought, before nodding enthusiastically. You made your way to the edge of the pool, hoisting yourself up onto the warm cement. Dominic’s doe eyes followed you, and specifically the curve of your ass as you made your way to your feet.

“ Who wants a midori sour?” You exclaimed, watching in amusement as everyone raised their hand.

“You know how to make those?” Omar says, seemingly taken aback.

“I’m a woman of many trades.” You joke smugly over your shoulder.

You trotted over to the outdoor bar, thankful that the roof of it provided you some shield from the intense sun that had been baking you for hours now. You bite down on your bottom lip as you focus, taking embarrassingly long to count out how many glasses you needed. This cocktail was your only party trick, picked up from a few bartender gigs in college. You began dishing out shots of melon liqueur into the cups.

“How many shots go into it that way?” A voice suddenly breaks from behind you, making you jump.

“Jesus how fucking long were you standing there?” You fuss at him.

“Not that long.” He steps off from leaning on the counter, coming closer to you as you resume your previous actions. “How many?”

“Two.”

“That looks like a little more than 2 shots.” He says, and you look back to find Dominic peering over your shoulder at the various in-progress cocktails.

“I pour with my heart, I am not bound by the measurements of man.” You say without missing a beat.

“God that’s actually fucking profound, or maybe I’m just crossfaded and easily impressed.” He continues, “Well actually, you could probably say anything to me and I’d think it was profound.”

“All I’m hearing is that you are madly in love with me.” You sigh, voice dripping with mock pity.

“You might be onto something.” He smirks, eyes burning into the side of your face.

“Don’t joke too loud, it might upset your girlfriend over there.” You say, nodding back towards her direction.

“I don’t have..who are you- oh.” He realizes. “For the record, I don’t know her. She has been up my ass all night unwarranted, keeps telling me she likes my music and my tattoos.” You scoff at the answer.

“ Don’t we all?”

“You listen to my music?” He makes his way closer, leaning his hips back against the counter that you’re cutting fruit at, looking down at you. You were silently grateful that he somehow didn't realize you meant his tattoos too.

“Here and there.” You smirk to yourself, finishing cutting up a lime.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Probably ‘Dark’, or maybe your song with Omar, I’m a little biased on the latter.” You chuckle. Your lips wrap around a lime slice, sucking gently, and Dominic thinks to himself that he didn’t know a lime could be this fucking sensual. He is so lost in the view of your face and your figure that he forgets to even respond.

“Don’t stare at me, you’re making me nervous.” You respond without looking up, eyes trained on mixing the drinks in front of you. “You have an intense gaze, you know?”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm” You take a sip of one of the drinks, face scrunching up at the burn making its way down your throat. “I think…I think that most people, including me, are afraid of being perceived in a vulnerable way. You look at people, you look like, through people in a way that’s very…heavy.”

“Does that bother you?” He questions. You finally turn to meet his gaze, tilting your head to the side in mock thought as you peer up at him.

“Hm. In a strange way..I like it.”

“Get a room you two! Where are the cocks?” You suddenly hear Omar yell from the pool, snapping you two out of the unofficial staring contest you two had begun.

You and Dominic jokingly groan simultaneously. ‘Please never refer to cocktails as cocks again!” You yelled towards him, stifling a laugh. “Wanna help me?” You ask, referencing, to the now done drinks on the counter, unknowingly flashing your doe eyes up at the man.

“I’d be a dick if I didn’t return the favor.” He chuckled, lifting several drinks into his hands effortlessly. Somehow, you made it back to the group without tripping over your own feet.

“I will warn everyone that these drinks are mostly midori and the tiniest bit sour.” You admit, handing out the drinks until everyone was sipping on one. Dominic and you found yourselves sitting close together now, sitting on the edge of the pool. You couldn’t help the way your eyes wandered across his body, now being painted by the vibrant sunset. It didn’t matter what he was saying, his pink full lips kept you on edge, practically making you squeeze your thighs together at the tension beginning to flood your shared eye contact.

The smallest smirk found its way to your face as you noted the scowl painted on the red head’s face at the lack of access to Dominic. Was it petty to relish in the misfortune of others, sure. Were you stopping anytime soon tonight for her? No chance.

One of Dominic and Omar’s friends suddenly exclaimed, “Drinking game!”, to which you all joined in agreement.

It started off tame, with a few cheeky questions/ dares. Now, here you were, preparing for Dominic Fike to take a body shot off of you. If someone asked you what 6 months ago you thought you’d be doing now, having one of your favorite musicians do a body shot off of your half naked body at another celebrity’s mansion was not in the cards. To be fair, it was neither of your ideas. Little miss redhead, who’s name you learned was Ana, asked Dominic to take a shot off the most attractive woman, most likely assuming it would go in her favor, and had inadvertently set you up to do perhaps the most insane thing you had ever done since moving to LA.

“Relax your stomach, you’re messing up my base.” Dominic whispered to you.

“Sorry, this is just fucking insane.” You sighed, trying to steady your breathing.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questioned, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah cause he can do it off me if you’re too scared.” Ana snickered.

That attitude sent a visceral courage through you. Turns out spite and alcohol was a beautiful combination for growing a pair.

“No. Go.” You spat out suddenly.

You gasped as his warm tongue came in contact with your stomach, soaking up the midori sour that was poured onto you. The rest of the group gasped and giggled like children at the sultry action, cheering for you both as Dominic finally sat up, smiling and cheering along with them.

A chill ran through you at the downright tantalizing look that overcame his already enticing gaze. It took everything in you not to hop into his lap and ride him, company and all. You squeezed your thighs together at the thought, returning your attention to the rest of the group in an attempt to sooth the tension building in your core.

“Damn Y/N, you got fucking balls. That was probably the hottest shit you’ve done since you touched down. I promise you.” You smiled cheekily at Omar’s praise, gulping down more alcohol.

The game continued, testing the boundaries on how intrusive you thought a game like this could get. While everyone was too distracted over a debate about hookups, Dominic pulled out his phone.

“Look up.” He whispered to you. You looked up, to find his Instagram story camera open. You both simultaneously flashed a middle finger. “Tag yourself.” He stated, passing you the phone.

“You know your fans are fucking psychos right?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Who cares.” He says matter of factly.

You tagged yourself and watched as he immediately posted. In a strange way, it was an ego boost. You weren’t the most consistent on Instagram outside of work, but you knew he barely posted, especially so directly. It was intimidating but thrilling knowing exactly what type of attention this would garner. This was a consequence for tomorrow morning’s Y/N and Dom.

“Holy shit I already follow you.” He remarks.

“No way.” You say, leaning over to look.

“Yes way. I see your shit all the time, it's dope. Small world huh?”

“Very.”

“Wanna make it smaller?” He quips.

Your eyebrows furrow at the question, undeniably a little nervous at whatever idea he had.

“How so?”

“Put your number in my phone.” You looked up at him, tracing his eyes for a joke.

“You’re insane, you know that? I could be like a crazy serial killer stalker.” You say matter of factly.

“Maybe you are, yeah. I’m okay with that as it stands for now though.”

You slowly took the phone back from his hands, typing your number in, and adding a cheesy picture of you in the moment. You passed it back, smiling up at him, you noticed that when he smiled back, a dimple popped out of his cheek.

Hm. I never noticed that.

“Who’s ready to take the shenanigans inside.” Omar slightly slurs.

You all gathered your belongings, wrapped yourselves in towels, hissing at the cold contrast of the AC against your wet skin. The house was empty save for the 6 of you, and you all split up to go shower, agreeing to come back in 30 minutes to eat and pick a movie to watch.

You settled on pajama shorts and a tube top, too tipsy to care about your nipples attempting to peek through.

You meet everyone else out in the living room, everyone looking refreshed and maybe a little tired.

“What’s everyone craving?” Omar asks, eyes low and scanning the room.

“Taco Bell.” You all say in unison. A collective laughter breaks out in the echoey room at the coincidence. Omar placed a group order, and as you waited for your order, you all found your place on a couch. You and Dominic smushed together onto a loveseat that was certainly made for one person, but neither of you dared to move.

“ Someone’s cold.” Dominic snickers in your ear, taking notice of your nipples reacting to the AC. You jokingly rolled your eyes. “Want my hoodie? I have a shirt underneath.”

“Um..sure.” While the cold wasn’t too uncomfortable, you weren’t gonna pass up the opportunity to wear his hoodie. You’d be stupid to say no. He pulled it off of him, and as you put in on his cologne flooded your nose.

“It looks better on you than me.” He chuckles, scanning down past the hoodie, down your legs that were curled up near him.

“Maybe I’ll make it mine then.” You smirked up at him, breathing catching as his eyes lingered on your lips too long for comfort.

Omar suddenly clears his throat. “Are y’all done eye fucking so we can pick a movie.” Your heads snap to him.

“I’m good with anything.” You both say in unison, snapping your heads back to each other.

Dinner soon arrived, and for the next hour you all ate and one by one people began heading to bed. You watched as Omar headed to bed with his friend you didn't even realize he was flirting with. It was just you and Dom. Though it was a little past midnight, and with all the alcohol in your system, you should be utterly exhausted. But you’re not, and it seems neither was he.

You began cleaning up outside and a little in the living room. You know Omar has hired a cleaner, but if you were gonna be up, might as well make use of it. Soon after, you and Dom made your way down the hallway, finding that your rooms were right across from each other. You paused, silhouettes lit dimly by the light coming through the window shade.

“We should probably go to bed right?” He asked, peering down at you, looking like he wanted to do anything but sleep.

“Yeah-um. Yeah we should.” You respond. It takes everything in both of you to pull away from each other's gaze, and you both walk backwards until you hit your respective doors.

“Goodnight.” He says, smiling softly at you.

“Goodnight.” You return the smile.

You had spent nearly 15 minutes tossing and turning, unable to find a tired bone in your body. You laid flat on your back, huffing in the dark room at the lack of anything currently happening. It was no surprise that your mind began to wonder to the boy across the hall.

Right across the fucking hall.

It seemed he was thinking of you too, because soon after blue light flooded a small part of the room from a text, an unsaved number.

It read: “Can’t sleep. Come watch tv with me?

look out for part 2 soon! Muah.

#dominic fike #dom fike #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike smut #omar apollo

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little-diable · 2 years ago

Text

Our secret - Carlisle Cullen (smut)

This is very unhinged, but what did we expect, it's me writing this after all. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: When Carlisle comes home after a long shift at the hospital, he's desperate for some kind of relief. Who would have thought that he'd stumble upon a streaming website, watching the stream of a very familiar face, (y/n) – Jasper's girlfriend.

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f&m), oral (f), piv, cheating, power play, choking, spanking, degrading, dom!Carlisle

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader, brief Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.2 k words)

A heavy sigh left Carlisle as he found his way to his office, thankful for the darkness that lingered in the mansion, allowing himself to finally relax. While the others were out hunting, he had been working another late shift at the hospital, making it home by 3 am. Those were the nights where he longed for his human past, wanting to feel the wave of tiredness he had once known all too well, centuries ago that had faded like the seasons passing by.

He opened his laptop, eyes flickering to the dark forest, wondering how much longer he’d get to cherish the quietness of their home. Quick typing brought him to the website he was looking for, leaning back in his chair with a small grin tugging on his lips.

For the past weeks he had visited a streaming website he had found one night, desperate for the kind of relief not even blood could give him, needing to give into his most primitive urges. He felt his cock harden in his trousers, barely anticipating the videos he’d get to watch, the moans he’d get to listen to. Fuck, this was one of those few moments where he actually felt human again, feeling like a young boy without any experience, driven by his needs.

It took him a few moments to find a stream to settle on, animated by the dark room, the fairy lights hung in the back, and the soft music echoing through the woman’s room. So far he couldn’t make out her body, wondering what she was doing out of the frame, if she was waiting for more people to join. His hand freed his cock, slowly pumping to adjust to the sensation, excited to see a new face today.

Movement could be heard on her end of the stream, and without another warning a female frame entered the screen, sitting down on her bed, right in front of the camera. A heavy gasp left Carlisle as his eyes took in the all too familiar features. His hand had stopped moving, unable to keep on going as he studied the girl he had crossed paths with numerous times before, (y/n) – Jasper’s girlfriend.

Fuck, he should close the website, should forget that he had ever seen her with barely any clothes on – and yet he didn’t dare move. Carlisle had always found himself drawn to her, wanting to keep her to himself, wondering why she had ended up with Jasper after all, but he’d never dare to interfere, not set on destroying Jasper’s relationship.

“I missed you all!” Her soft voice coaxed a groan out of Carlisle, and all he could do was watch how she slowly undressed, speaking to the people commenting on her videos and leaving tips. His hand had started moving after a few moments, getting over the first initial shock with a smirk widening on his lips.

And as (y/n)’s moans guided him towards the edge, making Carlisle think of her, she was located on the other side of Forks, trembling for the people watching her stream, with her mind set on a certain blonde doctor, rather than her boyfriend.

……

Ever since Carlisle had stumbled upon (y/n)’s stream, he had found himself returning to her website at any given chance, hidden from curious eyes and ears, very well knowing that he was walking a thin line. He had grown bolder over time, no longer hiding amongst those that simply watched but didn’t interact, but leaving comments here and there, changing his username to something she might recognise, if she paid enough attention.

He didn’t know what it was, and yet Carlisle didn’t want to break from the spell she had cast upon him. By now he knew every inch of her naked body, longing to touch the soft skin, praying to the God he had once loved that she wouldn’t ever return to his home, unsure how he’d react to seeing her again, with Jasper around.

Carlisle knew that he had to be careful, well aware of Edward’s powers, able to read his every thought. And yet Carlisle had mastered building up a mental stone wall over the past centuries, able to hide his every need from those that looked up to him, clinging to the father figure that had a pure heart and soul, at least that’s what he forced them to believe.

"Carlisle?" Jasper’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts, eyes flickering up from his book to meet the golden eyes of Jasper. With a smile tugging on his lips, Carlisle closed his book, freezing as another frame appeared next to Jasper. (Y/n) had her lips pulled into a wide smile, eyes meeting Carlisle’s. Jasper didn’t seem to notice the way Carlisle’s demeanor had changed, ushering (y/n) into the office. “(Y/n) burned herself this morning, and it won’t stop hurting. Would you mind looking at it while we go out to hunt?”

“No, of course not. She’s in good hands, don’t worry.” Carlisle averted his gaze as Jasper turned towards (y/n) with a smile, kissing his girlfriend goodbye. The doctor reached for his bag, pulling out a few things he’d need to take care of her wound. A thick silence hung in the air, so thick one could wrap it around their body in the cold winter morning, protected from the icy wind.

“Come, take a seat.” Carefully he guided her closer, waiting for her to settle on the chair. The blonde haired doctor towered over her, touching her arm to take in the wound. Neither of them dared to speak up, but while Carlisle tried to focus on her wound, (y/n) couldn’t help but admire the doctor, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“You know,” she whispered the words, watching the man halt in his movements. “It took me a while to pick up on it. At first I didn’t think it was you, but then.” The rest of the sentence was left unsaid, stuck in her throat as his eyes met hers, forcing all air from her lungs. Carlisle leaned back, finding rest with his hips leaned against his table, studying the woman for a few moments. Shallow breaths left her, teeth leaving nervous bite marks on her lower lip, unable to see through the man’s almost emotionless facade.

“Did you tell him?” She quickly shook her head, hand darting out to reach for Carlisle’s hand, making them both freeze. The cold he emitted clashed against the heat pumping through her body. For the past weeks (y/n) had wondered how to address the topic, unable to bite down the need she felt to be touched by the man, wanting to feel his body pressed against hers.

“If I’m being honest, every time I’ve been streaming I thought of you, and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop myself.” With her breath hitched in her chest she watched Carlisle break out in a deep, raspy laugh, hand finding her cheek, cupping her warm skin. Her body followed his every command, pulled to her feet, into his chest. For a few seconds they froze, listening to the alarm going off inside their heads, reminding them how wrong this was – whatever they were about to do. But their bodies forced them to continue, lips meeting in a rough kiss.

Jasper had never kissed her like this, had always tried to be careful with her, hoping that his alter ego wouldn’t take over his system, scared of leaving marks that wouldn’t fade. It seemed as if Carlisle wasn’t held back by any fear, any daunting thoughts, allowing himself to claim an already claimed woman.

“I need to taste you, need to hear those pretty moans you always make.” What sounded like a confession turned into a command, switching them around to force (y/n) down on his table. Her moan seemed to give him the green light he had been waiting for, jeans pulled down her legs with her damp panties following. Carlisle didn’t waste any time, pushing his tongue through her slit, tasting her arousal for the first time.

(Y/n)’s moans echoed through the room, hand tugging on his roots in a desperate need to ground herself. Her heart was racing, urged on by the fear of being interrupted, of being caught in an act so wrong that felt all too right. Her body had always called out to Carlisle, and yet something had held her back, doubting that the doctor would ever be interested in her.

“Oh god, Carlisle, you’re so-” she was interrupted by a heavy moan, he had pushed two fingers into her cunt, expectedly curling them against her sweet spot. She was trembling on the table, legs quivering already, within only a few moments of being touched. While her body struggled to hold back, her mind couldn’t help but wonder what being fucked by him must feel like, hoping that he’d soon give in.

“What is it? Talk to me, sweetheart.” A teasing smile was shot her way, mouth finding its way to her pulsing bundle of nerves, very well knowing what she wanted from him.

“Please.” Her whimpers were met by a throaty chuckle, he had his eyebrows raised, wordlessly commanding her to speak her thoughts. “I need you inside of me, fuck me, please Carlisle.”

“See, that wasn’t hard, was it?” He let go of her, only to pull her to her feet, front pushed down on the table with one quick move. Before she could even take a new deep breath, his hand came down on her behind, spanking the moaning woman. She was a goner, already floating in another dimension, and he hadn’t even fucked her yet. “Are you ready for me?”

His hand met her skin again, and again, till (y/n) finally managed to press out a soft “Yes, please”. She heard him spit onto his palm, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed into her from behind. Her air was knocked from her lungs, eyes squeezed shut to try and adjust to his size. Carlisle was ruthless, urged on by all those times he had been watching her on his screen, spreading her thighs for men just as desperate as he was.

“You’re already whimpering, and I’ve only just started fucking you. Does your boyfriend not satisfy you? You’re dripping for my cock like a slut begged to be manhandled.” His words had a sharp undertone to them, forcing a deep moan from her parted lips. Carlisle fucked her rough, hips meeting her aching behind with every thrust, pushing (y/n) further into the dark abyss she had been lured into. She was seeing stars, stars so daunting, (y/n) could feel her end coming upon her.

With one hand finding her throat, Carlisle pulled her up against his chest, pace not faltering once. Her walls fluttered around his cock, senses heightened by the possessive grasp he had on her throat, not cutting off her airstream, but making her blood sing in her ears. She was trembling, had a hard time focusing on anything but his touch, the way he fucked her, pushing her closer to the edge.

“Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me.” Carlisle’s words coaxed a whimper from her lips, gone the moment his cold fingers found her clit. He tightened his grasp on her throat, forcing her eyes open to focus on the dark forest surrounding the mansion, wondering who or what was lurking outside there. Would their secret be spilled? Would they be able to hide it from the others nearby?

“Need to cum, I’m so close.” Her voice trembled, nothing more than a whisper he clearly picked up on. Carlisle’s raspy chuckles left her shuddering, mind torn between the sensation of the way he fucked her from behind and the way he expertly rubbed her clit. A rough “Cum” left the doctor, hand leaving her throat to tightly grab her waist, fearing that she may lose her balance.

Her orgasm clashed through her, leaving her moaning and whimpering, not hearing the sound of slow steps carrying somebody closer. She didn’t notice the smirk tugging on Carlisle’s lips, didn’t notice how he turned his head, eyes meeting another pair of dark ones. He pulled out of her to release himself on her behind, letting go of (y/n) to give her a moment to calm down.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted.” Her soft chuckles were interrupted by a deep laugh, head snapping towards the door, catching Jasper leaning against the doorframe. The vampire was smirking at his wide eyed girlfriend, stepping into the office with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Oh, darlin’, this was only just the beginning.”

#Carlisle Cullen smut #Carlisle Cullen imagine #twilight

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tellmeallaboutit · 9 months ago

Text

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better.

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm.

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you?

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably.

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters.

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped?

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed.

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together.

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you.

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week).

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way).

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction.

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd.

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin.

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction.

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway.

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael.

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael.

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep.

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote...

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?"

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were.

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee.

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, d'Avergni & Partners, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair?

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up.

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look.

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?"

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?"

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement.

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money.

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack. "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition".

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair.

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said.

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me."

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute. Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure.

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm.

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer.

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you.

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away.

You remained seated and stayed.

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman.

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there.

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender.

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting?

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts.

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?"

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone.

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'.

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

#bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #raphael x player #raphael x tav #raphael x oc #raphael x you #meta fanfic #knock knock

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