#and then i am shot in the back of the head

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

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For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

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The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

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The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

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Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

[night-raven-tattler]

The pains of being human

Summary: You're dealing with period related misfortunes, and you feel vulnerable... mostly because you reached a point where you had to share your predicament with someone you trusted (?).

Characters: Deuce, Floyd, Lilia and GN!Reader (separate, vague)

Warnings: mentions of menstrual products, food, medicine; discussions of periods and related symptoms (such as: bleeding, cramps, nausea, mood swings.)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were in your dorm room, stuck in a real predicament: not stocking up on your menstrual products, and leaving the room to buy yourself some seemed too risky, fearing you might get a stain and embarass yourself in front of the whole school

It wasn't a very likely situation, but the anxiety was not worth it, so you relied the first person you were close enough with to help you out: Deuce

You shot him a simple text

"i am on my period, can you buy me some products? i'll pay you back when you get here"

and expected an awkward but supportive reply, since teenage boys and periods can be like oil and water sometimes or demons and cruxes...

But the text you received in return was... mildly surprising.

"yeah sure. pads? tampons?"

"what size do you need?"

"anything else you need? painkillers? something sweet?"

You even double checked the number to make sure you didn't text anyone else

He even knew about sizes! And he thought about painkillers! You were more and more touched with each message coming through

And, with the proper instructions, Deuce was on his way to Sam's

He was not embarassed for even a second: he was there on a mission, and he accomplished it successfully without any missteps

...Well, except of his little delay, caused by a pair of nosy boys, who received their proper threats from Deuce for interrupting his mission with their toxic masculinity

He knocked at your door, and for a second he was expecting his mother to open the door; after all, she was the only one he has ever bought these things for before you

You gratefully welcomed him in, waddling your way back to your bed as you inspected the bag he brought you

"Thank you, Deuce. You're a livesaver... How much did everything cost you?"

Deuce saw the tired look on your face, the heavy lids that indicated a lack of proper sleep, and he shook his head

"It's on me this time."

You scoffed, knowing Deuce was also on a budget; as much of a sweetheart and an honors student he was, Deuce deserved to be rewarded

"...I wanna think of a compromise, but my brain is too tired right now."

You groaned, closing your eyes as you rested them for a few seconds

Deuce shook his head at you again and clicked his tongue in fond exasperation

He wanted to be nice and offer you an out, but you were dead set on being nice to him...

"...A latte."

You opened your eyes, looking at Deuce in confusion

"I'm sorry?"

"I want a latte. One of those fancy ones from that café in town. When you're done with the, uh... bear week."

A small snort escaped you as you gave Deuce an amused look

"Bear week? Not shark week?"

Deuce's eyes widened slightly, and he looked away as his cheeks grew warmer

"...Mom never called it that. She always said that fighting a bear is more likely to happen than fighting a shark... and that it sounds cooler."

You nodded, feeling very inclined to agree with his mom, and decided to steal that phrase

You were very relieved to have someone as reliable as Deuce near you, and despite the fact that Deuce wasn't the most diligent person, he always made sure to carry one of your preffered products with him at all times

No matter what kind of teases he received from anyone for it, he knew he was showing a level of care not many would

And while helping you... he was helping himself

He was still dealing with the guilt of being so embarassed when his own mom sent him to buy pads; he couldn't help his mom with such a simple thing even after everything she's done

But he can be more careful this time... more appreciative

The moment Floyd spotted you in the hallways was when things went downhill: Floyd didn't really bring sunshine and rainbows around with himself

By that point you were used to his shenanigans, but you still gave some interesting reactions

A gasp, a swat to his hand... but never tears

He wouldn't have yelled in your ear if he knew you'd burst into tears: he wasn't in the mood to deal with the aftermath

But he quickly put two and two together, seeing the way you were frozen on the spot, almost trying to pick between scolding him and saying something else

Unbeknownst to Floyd, you were simply trying to get back to your dorm after noticing a pretty sizeable stain on your pants from your period

And the anxiety from trying to go unnoticed put you on edge, making your reaction to Floyd so much worse

"...Please just get me out of here."

Your small plea came after a tense silence, in which Floyd was reading your expression with an almost uninterested look

But he still hoisted you over his shoulder without any hesitation, much to your embarassment

"Floyd...! Not like this, put me down!"

"Eh~? You're so hard to please, little discus!"

Floyd did not put you down, of course

It was causing a bit of a scene, so you decided that, in the end, you'll take whatever got you to your dorm room the fastest

"Alright, fine...! Just get me to my dorm then!"

"Boooring! Why can't we go somewhere more fun?"

Floyd complained while going in the direction of your dorm

"Because I'm not in the mood for fun, Floyd! I..."

Your cheeks turned red, realising you almost revealed something too personal

To your surprise, Floyd didn't point it out; he just pouted as he walked towards your dorm

You reached your dorm room soon thanks to Floyd's long legs, and you were able to change into fresh clothes, easing your anxiety and making you feel like crying from relief

Until you realised Floyd was still in your room, even after you told him you'd be having no fun together today

He looked you up and down, his face betraying his confusion

"Now can you tell me why you were smelling like blood? Did anyone do something? Do I get to deliver a revenge plan and squeeze some aquarium fish?"

Floyd's almost sadistic delivery did not phase you at all, and all you were thinking was that of course Floyd noticed

You had no other option but to explain

"I just... got a blood stain from my, uh... my period..."

Silence.

"...What do classes have to do with that?"

Your eyes widened as you came to a horrifying conclusion: Floyd couldn't know what period were, because he was a merman

You saw your short life flash before your eyes in horror at the prospect of having to explain periods to a teenager... when Floyd just burst into laughter

"Oh, you actually believe that! You are so funny!"

Much to your relief, Floyd's confusion was just a prank; he figured you had your period before you even said anything

He revealed that he took classes about humans, their customs and anatomy when he first decided to come on land

And he also dodged the pillows you threw at him with practiced ease

It was the last time you even talked about it: neither of you brough it up again, and you didn't know how to feel about it

On one hand, you were relieved, but on the other hand, you expected Floyd of all people to ask questions and be all annoying about it

But Floyd didn't really care about things like that

In fact, he found your periods hilarious: your mood swins in particular were funny, and he almost enjoyed making things that you could digest

And he would never admit it, but he felt proud when you seemed to feel a bit better after he helped you during your period

Every once in a while, you found yourself being enveloped in a hug from behind from the old bat

He would either hand you a piece of homemade chocolate by him or some cute trinket he thought sould cheer you up

Lilia was a very cute individual, and he was surprisingly affectionate for someone who was definitely a teenager and not a retired war veteran attending highschool, so you never questioned it

...until you found Lilia wrapping his jacket around your torso gingerly from behind

"...There we go. Not too tight?"

His cute, softer voice vibrated through your back as he still was glued to you

"It's... not, but why did you..."

"Oh, haven't you heard? Jackets wrapped around waists are the latest fad! It's cool and chic!"

You didn't argue with him on it, especially after you tried to untie the jacket from your waist and were blocked by Lilia, who was still holding you from behind

The proximity was getting to you, and you felt your cheeks flushing, your knees growing a bit weak, your stomach doing flips-

Wait, no. That wasn't butterflies in your stomach, that was a sharp pain from... lower

As you put two and two together, Lilia started walking you down the hallway into a secluded classroom, his hand around your waist and making you two look as casual and unassuming as always

The moment Lilia closed the door of the abandoned classroom, you his your face in your hands from embarassment

"Oh, my god... This can't be happening to me..."

The tone in your voice betrayed how mortified you felt, but was glad that you had this realisation away from prying eyes

You didn't even realise the leak, since you were already using products, and it already felt like you leaked blood all the time...

Lilia only chucked at your realisation

"Khee hee... Someone was a bit caught off guard today, huh?"

Your pathetic whimper was the only answer Lilia received, and his eyes sparkled with mirth

He still brought out his magical pen and waved it gently in the air, muttering something under his breath

"Take that jacket off and turn around for me?"

You did as he instructed, but only because you felt more... dry, all of a sudden

Lilia hummed in delight as he saw the spot being gone, his spell working

"Good. No more damning evidence... Now all you gotta do is go on your merry way."

You sighed in relief and slipped onto an empty chair, letting the small rollercoaster of emotions settle down within you

Lilia was nothing short of a lifesaver, and he handled the situation with so much grace that it left you speechless

When you asked about it, he just laughed

"I'm no stranger to blood."

That was all he said... Not ominous at all /s

Still, you were very grateful at the way Lilia handled everything

Since then, he started being even more doting on you whenever you were in your period

He was almost... motherly in a way

And for some reason, the idea of Lilia as a parental figure didn't seem too far fetched...

He always was on the lookout for any other accidents and even tried talking you into trying the reusable alternatives for your products

What surprised no one was when he became even more eager to supplement you with nutritional food whenever you were low on energy

And so much more disappointed when your nausea made his food somehow even worse to be around

[mapis-putellas]

𝑺𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 936

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia steals your snacks. [Request]

Notes: Yes, I say crisps. I am British. That’s what we call them here.

It was a rare evening off, and you were sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the peaceful comfort of home. The TV was on, tuned to a match you’d been eager to watch all week. A bag of crisps rested on your lap, your hand occasionally reaching in for another bite. It was your favorite flavor, and after a long day, the simple pleasure of good snacks and football was pure bliss.

Alexia sat beside you, her legs tucked beneath her. Her attention flicked between her phone and the TV, though she seemed far more interested in you than the game. Every now and then, you caught her glancing at the bag of crisps in your lap, her brown eyes narrowing slightly, her expression one of calculated determination.

You pretended not to notice, knowing exactly what she was up to. Alexia had a habit of stealing your snacks, despite having no shortage of her own. It had become a game between the two of you—a game you usually lost, because Alexia was nothing if not persistent.

The first move came just as a corner kick was being taken. You were glued to the screen, anticipating the shot, when Alexia shifted closer. Her hand darted out, fingers brushing against the edge of the bag.

Without looking away from the TV, you tilted the bag out of her reach. “Don’t even think about it,” you warned, your tone light but firm.

Alexia’s lips curved into a playful smirk, her accent thick as she responded. “I am not thinking. I am… what is it? Doing.”

Her hand shot out again, this time a little bolder. You blocked her with your arm, finally turning to give her a mock glare. “Get your own,” you said, holding the bag protectively.

“I don’t want my own,” she said, leaning into you with a pout. “Yours taste better.”

“They’re the same crisps we bought together at the shop,” you replied, laughing. “You literally picked them out.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said stubbornly, her Spanish accent making the words sound far cuter than they had any right to. “Yours are better. Always better.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart melted a little at her antics. Alexia was the picture of focus and discipline on the pitch, a leader through and through. Off the pitch, though? She was your biggest menace.

As the match continued, so did her attempts to steal your snacks. She tried sneaking her hand into the bag during a particularly tense moment on the field, but you swatted her away. She tried distracting you by pointing at the screen and exclaiming, “Goal! Look!” even though there was no goal. When you didn’t fall for that, she resorted to whining, her head dropping dramatically onto your shoulder.

“Why do you not share with me?” she asked, her voice laced with exaggerated sorrow. “You are so mean.”

“Mean?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the one trying to steal from me. That’s mean.”

Alexia sat up straight, crossing her arms. “It’s not stealing if we share everything. We are girlfriends.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” you teased, grinning at her. “Then why didn’t you share your churros with me last week, huh?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she avoided your gaze. “That was different.”

“Sure it was,” you said, laughing as you took another crisp.

For a moment, she looked defeated, slumping back against the couch with a huff. You thought you’d won. But Alexia was nothing if not determined.

Her next move was more elaborate. She grabbed the throw pillow beside her and tossed it onto the floor. When you bent down to pick it up, muttering about her being messy, she seized the opportunity to grab the bag. By the time you sat up again, the crisps were in her hands, and she was grinning triumphantly.

“Hey!” you protested, reaching for the bag.

Alexia held it out of reach, her long arms giving her an unfair advantage. “Too slow!” she sang, giggling as you tried to wrestle it back.

You lunged for her, and the two of you ended up in a full-on tug-of-war. She was laughing so hard she could barely hold onto the bag, but she refused to let go. “I win!” she declared, though her words were muffled by laughter.

“Like hell you do,” you shot back, climbing onto her lap in a last-ditch effort to reclaim your snack.

The two of you toppled over, landing in a heap on the couch. The bag of crisps fell to the floor, spilling its contents everywhere. For a moment, you both froze, staring at the mess. Then Alexia burst into laughter, her face buried against your shoulder as she shook with amusement.

“You’re impossible,” you said, but you couldn’t help laughing too.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “And you love me.”

“Unfortunately,” you said, but the smile on your face betrayed your words.

Alexia leaned in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to your lips. “You are lucky I love you more,” she said, her voice soft but teasing.

The match on TV was long forgotten by now, the crisps scattered across the floor a minor inconvenience compared to the warmth of Alexia’s laughter and the way her arms tightened around you. In that moment, as the two of you lay tangled on the couch, it didn’t matter who won or lost your silly little game. All that mattered was her smile, her laughter, and the undeniable fact that she was your favorite kind of chaos.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @wileys-russo @mead-iocre @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[misswynters]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝 Part One

pairing. ambessa x reader x sevika

warnings. kissing, sparring and kissing, touching, neck kisses, pet names (darling)

wc. i have no idea (i went overboard)

synopsis. You were sent on a mission to train sevika for an underground tournament, by non other than the tyrant herself, Ambessa Merdarda.

a/n. there needs to be more of these because i am in need. i keep making part twos because im indecisive also let me know if there’s any misspelling

note. it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

Sweat clung to your brow as you stepped into the training room, its atmosphere oppressive and bathed in a dim crimson glow. The walls, which were made of steel, echoed with every movement. Scuffed mats covered sections of the concrete floor, marked by years of punishment from brutal sparring matches. Ambient heat radiated from flickering red lights overhead, casting jagged shadows that seemed to ripple with every movement. It wasn’t an ideal space for training, but Zaun didn’t do luxury, and neither did Ambessa.

Ambessa’s voice rang out from the elevated platform at the far end of the room, her piercing gaze fixed on the two of you. “Again,” she ordered, her tone sharp enough to cut through the humid air. “Don’t hold back this time. You’re wasting my time if you’re not going to make her bleed.”

Resentment prickled under your skin, but you bit your tongue. Ambessa’s presence had been the only thing keeping you in this hell of an assignment. Training Sevika for an underground tournament had sounded ridiculous when the offer first came to you. Why would a battle maiden brute like her need anyone’s help. But Ambessa had insisted, claiming your expertise was “essential” to Zaun’s victory. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Sevika stood in front of you, her large frame coiled with tension. Her metal arm glinted under the lights as her breathing stayed steady. Her gaze looked betrayed with annoyance. She wasn’t thrilled about being told what to do, let alone by you. The feeling was mutual. “You ready for another bruising, princess?” Sevika taunted, cracking her knuckles.

Rolling your eyes, you dropped into a fighting stance. “Keep talking, and I’ll make sure your metal arm isn’t the only thing out of commission.”

Her grin was predatory. “Such big words for someone so small.”

The session resumed with a flurry of blows. Sevika lunged first, her movements quick despite her size. You ducked under her swing, your fist connecting with her side. The impact barely fazed her, but it was enough to get her attention. She retaliated with a sweeping kick, forcing you to leap back to avoid losing your footing. The clash of flesh and metal echoed in the room as the two of you exchanged blows, your mutual irritation fueling every strike.

Sevika was too strong to take head-on. So you relied on precision and agility, darting around her strikes and aiming for weak spots. But Sevika wasn’t stupid. She adapted quickly, her strikes coming faster and more calculated. Her metal fist grazed your ribs at one point, and the shock of it made you stumble.

“Getting tired already, sweetheart?” she sneered, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm.

“Hardly,” you shot back, charging at her with renewed energy.

Your next strike caught her off guard. A perfectly timed uppercut sent her stumbling backward. You didn’t stop, delivering a swift kick to her midsection that knocked her off balance. She hit the ground hard, her body slamming against the concrete with a grunt. For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Stay down,” you said, wiping your hands on your pants.

But Sevika didn’t stay down. With a growl, she lunged at you like a wild animal. Her strength caught you off guard, and before you could react, she had you pinned to the cold floor. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and you gasped as her full weight pressed against you.

Sevika’s metal hand gripped both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. Her other hand rested on your shoulder, keeping you firmly in place. You struggled, but her strength was overwhelming.

“Not so cocky now, are ya?” she panted, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction. Sweat dripped from her forehead onto your cheek, and the heat of her body seeped into yours.

“Let me up,” you growled, glaring at her.

Her lips curled into a smirk as she leaned closer, her face mere inches from yours. “Now why would i do that? You look good down there.”

Your pulse quickened, though you told yourself it was from exertion. “You’re enjoying this wayyyy too much.”

“Maybe,” Sevika admitted, her voice a husky whisper. “But I think you are too.” Her chest heaved with every breath, the fabric of her tank top clinging to her damp skin. The scent of sweat and iron filled the air, mingling with something deeper, something unspoken. Her gray eyes bore into yours, challenging you, daring you to say something, to do something. But neither of you moved. The world outside the training room seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in this heat of a moment.

“You’re stronger than I expected,” Sevika muttered, her voice softer now. “Almost makes me want to keep you around.”

“Almost?” you shot back, your voice tight. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Her smirk widened. “You can try, but you wouldn’t succeed.”

Ambessa’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. “Enough!” she barked, her tone sharp and commanding. “If you two are done flirting, we have a tournament to prepare for.”

Ambessa’s voice thundered through the training room before either of you had the chance to speak. “What in the hell is going on here?” Her presence filled the room instantly, her commanding tone freezing both you and Sevika in place.

Her boots clanged against the concrete as she strode forward, her towering frame illuminated by the dim red glow. Dressed in training gear, Ambessa looked more like a war goddess than a general with her broad shoulders and powerful arms on full display. A simple black sports bra wrapped tightly around her chest as her glistened abs catch the faint light.

“Off,” she barked, her sharp gaze locking on Sevika.

Sevika, who rarely flinched at anything, hesitated for a split second before pulling back. Her expression was tight with frustration, but she obeyed, releasing your wrists and standing. The loss of her warmth was immediate as the cold floor pressed against your back.

Ambessa stepped in without missing a beat, gripping Sevika’s arm and pulling her upright effortlessly. “Do you think this is some kind of game?” Her voice was low, dangerous, as she squared off with Sevika.

Sevika yanked her arm back, her jaw tightening. “She hit me. I hit her back.”

“You pinned her like a street brawler,” Ambessa snapped, her voice cutting through the charged air. “This isn’t some tavern scuffle. You’re supposed to be training, not rolling around like a fool.”

“She’s the one who pushed me,” Sevika shot back, her chest heaving as she stepped closer. The heat in her gaze didn’t waver, and the muscles in her arms flexed with tension.

Still lying on the ground, you watched the two women square off, rooted in place by the sheer energy between them. Ambessa’s imposing frame radiated authority, her dark eyes blazing, while Sevika bristled like a cornered beast, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Pushed you?” Ambessa’s voice dropped to a near growl. She took another step forward, her tone mocking. “What are you, a child? You’re supposed to be stronger than this.”

“Maybe if you didn’t bark orders from a balcony, you’d see how this fight actually went,” Sevika bit back, her voice dripping with venom. Her muscles tensed beneath the fabric of her tank top, the strain of holding back her frustration evident in every line of her body.

Ambessa’s laugh was sharp and humorless, cutting through the suffocating air. “Careful, Sevika. You’re one poorly thrown punch away from losing that metal arm.”

Sevika’s lips twisted into a snarl, her voice rising as she stepped into Ambessa’s space. “And you’re one more order away from learning I don’t take kindly to being treated like a damn pawn.”

Every word exchanged felt like a spark, each one igniting the fire between them further. You remained where you were, watching from the ground as the red lights painted their figures like some living, breathing battle scene.

Ambessa tilted her head slightly, her piercing gaze narrowing. “You think this is about you?” she asked, her voice quiet but filled with dangerous intent. She took a step closer, the heat from her body palpable even from where you lay. “You’re nothing without me. You wouldn’t have that arm, that strength, or this opportunity. So don’t test me, Sevika.”

For a moment, Sevika didn’t respond, her jaw tight as her gaze flickered to the floor before locking onto Ambessa again. Then, like a wave breaking, the anger in her expression shifted into something more intimate replacing it.

“Nothing without you?” Sevika’s voice dropped, her tone low and measured, sending a shiver down your spine. “You think you own me because you gave me this?” She raised her metal arm, flexing it deliberately. “Don’t fool yourself. I’ve earned every inch of what I am.”

Ambessa didn’t back down, stepping even closer until their chests were nearly brushing. “Then prove it. Because right now, all I see is someone too stubborn to recognize when they’re being tested.”

The air between them shifted. Their breathing was heavy, their bodies so close you swore you could see the tension vibrating between them. Ambessa’s hand raised slightly, and for a second, you thought she might push Sevika, or worse, strike her. But her fingers caught the strap of Sevika’s tank top instead, her grip firm.

“You talk about earning it,” Ambessa said, her voice softer now, her words dripping with sharpness. “But have you earned this?”

Sevika didn’t flinch, though her chest rose and fell faster, her gray eyes locked onto Ambessa’s dark ones. “I’ve earned more than you think,” she said, her voice just as quiet, though there was a slight tremor. The aggression in Sevika’s stance softened, though her muscles remained taut, her body coiled and ready. Ambessa’s imposing presence didn’t falter, but the edge in her gaze dulled ever so slightly.

“You’re reckless,” Ambessa murmured, her fingers still resting against Sevika’s shirt.

“Tyrant bitch,” Sevika shot back, though there was no bite to her words.

They were so close now, their tension-filled standoff transforming into something you couldn’t quite name. You should’ve looked away, should’ve gotten up and interrupted, but you couldn’t. The sight of them, Ambessa’s glistening abs under the red lights and Sevika’s tank top clinging to her damp skin. It was mesmerizing.

The sparring session between Ambessa and Sevika had turned into a spectacle of raw power and dominance. The two women circled each other, muscles taut and glistening under the red light as they calculated their next moves. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, the charged atmosphere making it impossible to look away.

Sevika lunged first, her movements swift. Ambessa parried with ease, her stature and experience giving her the upper hand. The clash of their bodies reverberated through the room, their strength evenly matched, though Ambessa carried herself with an effortless grace that only came from years of battle.

Whereas, you sat on the couch in the corner with your legs crossed and your hands gripping the cushion tightly as you watched. The intensity between them was magnetic, and you felt heat creeping up your neck as you took it all in. The way Ambessa’s muscles shifted with every movement, the sheer power in her strikes. It was impossible not to admire her.

Sevika grunted as Ambessa caught her wrist mid-strike, twisting her arm behind her back in one fluid motion. “You’re too easy to predict,” Ambessa said, her voice low and laced with authority.

Sevika growled, twisting to free herself, but Ambessa didn’t let go. Instead, she pinned Sevika’s arms together, holding them in place with one hand. The strength in that single motion was enough to make your jaw drop. You could see the flex of her biceps, the veins on her forearm standing out as she kept Sevika completely immobilized.

You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks flush. It wasn’t just the display of power that made your stomach flip, it was the way Ambessa looked doing it. She was in complete control, her eyes burning with determination.

Ambessa leaned in close, her lips brushing against Sevika’s ear. Whatever she whispered was too quiet for you to hear, but the way Sevika’s ears turned pink told you enough. Sevika was blushing. Their breathing was labored, their chests pressed against each other in a way that blurred the lines between aggression and intimacy. They were similar in height and strength that it was hard to tell who had the upper hand, though Ambessa’s control of the situation made it clear she was the dominant one.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to the scene in front of you. The way they moved, the tension between them. it was impossible not to feel flustered. Your eyes flicked to Ambessa’s back, the muscles there flexing as she held Sevika in place, and then to Sevika’s jaw, clenched tightly in frustration.

And then, with a sharp motion, Ambessa threw Sevika to the ground. The impact echoed through the room, but before Sevika could recover, Ambessa straddled her waist, pinning her completely. Her hands pressed into the concrete on either side of Sevika’s head, caging her in.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Ambessa’s gaze was piercing, and Sevika’s was equally defiant, though there was a flicker of something soft beneath her frustration. The proximity between them was almost suffocating, their breaths mingling as they stared each other down.

From your spot on the couch, you felt a pang of jealousy twist in your chest. You hated to admit it, but the sight of them like this: with Ambessa in complete control and Sevika pinned beneath her. You couldn’t deny what it made you feel. You were indecisive, whether you wanted to be in Ambessa’s place or Sevika’s.

Ambessa finally broke the moment, her head turning slightly in your direction. “Darling,” she called, her voice smooth and inviting.

Your heart skipped a beat. She rarely used that tone with you, and when she did, it always made your pulse race. You stood hesitantly, your legs feeling weak as you approached them.

“C’mere,” Ambessa said again, her eyes darkening as she watched you. You obeyed without question, moving closer until you were kneeling beside the two women. Ambessa shifted her attention back to Sevika for a moment, her thumb brushing against Sevika’s jawline before she finally let go of her. Sevika sat up slightly, her breathing still heavy as she stared at Ambessa, her lips parted as though she wanted to a near whisper. "Do you want her?"

The question hit you like a shit ton of bricks. Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. "What? No, I-"

Ambessa tilted her head, a faint smirk playing at her lips. "Come on. there’s no need lie," she said, her voice soft but dangerous. "I've seen the way you look at her."

It’s true i-" you started, but your words caught in your throat as Ambessa leaned closer, her hand coming up to cup your chin.

"You can deny it all you want," she murmured, her thumb brushing against your lower lip. "But I already know the truth." Behind her, Sevika shifted, her eyes narrowing as she watched the interaction. Her gaze flicked between you and Ambessa, her jaw tightening as though she was trying to figure out what to make of the situation.

Ambessa's lips curved into a knowing smile as she let go of your chin, her hand moving to rest on your shoulder instead. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said, her tone almost teasing now. "Desire is a natural thing."

You felt your cheeks heat up, unsure of how to respond. Ambessa's gaze was unrelenting, and the weight of both her and Sevika's attention made your head spin.

"Still," Ambessa continued, her voice taking on a more serious edge, "you should know where your loyalties lie." Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded slowly. With the inability to tear your eyes away from her. The room was silent for a moment, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Sevika finally stood, brushing herself off and crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down at the two of you.

Ambessa smirked, leaning back slightly but still keeping her hand on your shoulder. "Oh, I'm counting on it," she said, her tone dripping with confidence.

As the two women exchanged another charged look, you couldn't help but feel caught in the middle of something bigger than yourself. And yet, you didn't want to be anywhere else.

Ambessa stood there, towering over both you and Sevika, her sharp gaze locked on Sevika's defiant stance. The tension between them was thick, electric, but then something shifted in Ambessa's expression. A sly smirk curved her lips, and before anyone could react, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Sevika's.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was intense, fiery, and utterly captivating. Sevika's eyes widened in surprise at first, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she matched Ambessa's energy, their mouths moving against each other with such a desire that made your heart pound. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight. The sound of their labored breaths and the faint growls of dominance filled the room. They kissed as if they were trying to conquer one another, neither willing to back down. Sevika's hand shot up, gripping the back of Ambessa's neck, her fingers curling into her short hair. While Ambessa's large hands found Sevika's waist, pulling her closer.

Your cheeks flushed as you watched, your mind racing. It was undeniably hot. You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your belly as you continued to observe the exchange.

Ambessa's teeth caught Sevika's lower lip, tugging it slightly before she pulled back just enough to smirk. "Is that all you've got?" she taunted, her voice husky and breathless.

"Not even close," Sevika growled, surging forward to capture her lips again, this time with even more hunger.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. The two women before you were locked in a battle of dominance, their bodies pressed so tightly together that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began. The red light from the room cast their silhouettes in an almost ethereal glow, accentuating the muscles in their arms and shoulders as they held each other.

You felt a pang of longing in your chest, wishing you could be part of that. Your eyes drifted to Sevika's lips. You imagined her pressing her lips against your neck. And then your gaze moved to Ambessa's hands, the thought of them holding you like that making your stomach flip.

You didn't realize you were pouting until Ambessa pulled back slightly from Sevika, her eyes flicking toward you. She chuckled lowly, her voice thick with amusement. "What's wrong, darling?" she teased, the pet name rolling off her tongue like silk.

You quickly looked away, embarrassed that she'd caught you. "Nothing," you muttered, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

"Nothing, hm?" Ambessa stepped closer, leaving Sevika standing there looking both frustrated and dazed. She reached out, her hand brushing lightly against your cheek before trailing down to rest against your back. "I don't think I believe you."

Sevika, still breathing heavily, smirked as she noticed your reaction. "Looks like someone wants in on the fun," she said, her tone teasing but her eyes were dark. Your heart skipped a beat as Ambessa's hand pressed more firmly against your back, guiding you to your feet. "Join us.” she commanded softly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for only a moment before obeying, letting her lead you exactly where you wanted to be. Right inbetween the two of them. Her hand stayed firm against your back, her touch grounding yet electrifying.

"You've been watching like you want something," Ambessa murmured, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "Well?"

"I..." You trailed off, unsure of how to put into words the mix of desire and anticipation swirling inside you.

"Shy now?" Sevika teased, stepping closer until her chest was nearly brushing against your back. She reached out, her calloused fingers tilting your chin up so you had to look at her. "Don't be."

The proximity of both women was overwhelming, their sheer size making you feel small and delicate in comparison. Ambessa's hands slid down to your hips, pulling you flush against her chest while Sevika's fingers trailed along your jawline.

"You're trembling," Ambessa noted with a smirk, her voice a low rumble against your back. "Are we making you nervous, darling?"

"I-i’m not nervous," you managed to say, though your voice betrayed you.

Ambessa chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest and into your body. "Good," she said. "Because we're just getting started."

Before you could respond, Ambessa leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both commanding and intoxicating. Her hands tightened on your hips, holding you firmly against her as her lips moved against yours with expert precision.

You barely had time to process the kiss before Sevika's lips found the curve of your neck, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. The combination of their touches was almost too much to handle, and yet you craved more.

Ambessa pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she looked down at you. "Sevika," she said, her tone carrying a hint of command.

Sevika hummed in response, her lips still pressed against your neck.

"I think you want more," Ambessa said, a mischievous glint in her eye as she looked between you and Sevika.

Sevika smirked, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as she pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. "Then we shouldn't disappoint," she said, her voice low and full of promise.

As they both closed in on you, you couldn't help but feel excitement. Being caught between these two powerful women, their attention focused entirely on you, was a dream come true. And as their lips and hands began explored every inch of your body, you couldn’t resist.

part two?

taglist. @blckbny @themostlesbianever @galaxydreamer468 @mpenguin7 @mvistl @dollstry @abitchnamedtia @ab2ysw1fe @lizzy222y @lexi2000 @sevslut @yer-boiiii @jayden-prentiss @humbledaylily556 @desnaa

banner. @anitalenia

[ballsbutt]

Haruka sighed, digging through her giant mom purse to find Sparkle Magic Scepter. It had seen better days. The star spear head had lost much of its lustre. Once it was golden and sparkled with the hopes of youth and friendship. Now it lazily trailed sprinkles of middle age and resignation to complacency. Scratches showed against its patina and a section of paint on the swirl handle had rubbed up.

"Sparkle dream magic go," said Haruka. She was lifted off the ground in a burst of sun rays and starbursts that cleared a hole in the clouds above. A salaryman walking by cursed as he was coated in glitter. The light dissipated and Haruka landed, now in a fluffy pink dress with laces and frills and a skirt that she no longer found flattering.

"Stop, evildoer, or I will stop you in the name of love and justice, by the powers of the Wonder Sparkle Dreamstar."

The monster, a large bipedal conglomeration of an armadillo, a crocodile, and a ganguro girl, stopped midway from lifting a small old woman to its jaws. It narrowed its eyes and tossed the woman aside. Suparaku, Haruka's giant stuffed penguin sidekick, caught the woman midair and set her down gently.

"Wonder-Sparkle Princess, we finally meet! I am Gahanasaur the Destructor! I-"

The monster was interrupted by a ringing phone.

"One sec," said Haruka, pulling the phone out of seemingly nowhere. "It's my kid's dad."

Haruka turned away from the monster.

"Philip, what's up? I'm in the middle of something. I don't know, some kind of bullshit dinosaur."

"Seriously?" Gahanasaur yelled. Haruka threw up a pointer finger to silence him.

"What do you mean you can't pick Johnsuke up from school? It's your day! Uh huh... Uh huh... Look that's your problem, not mine."

Gahanasaur roared, "I am the Lord Captain of the Bascheomian Armada! I will not be spoken to like some lowly-"

Haruka held the phone to her chest and shot the monster a look.

"Sir," Haruka said, eyes glimmering pink, "I am handling important issues involving my child. I will fight you in a moment." She turned back around and lifted the phone back to her ear. "You always do this! You're completely unreliable! Just like when you were the Mysterious Masquerade, you talk a big game but you don't do shit!"

Haruka held the phone on her shoulder as she lit a cigarette. She held the cigarette between her lips. "This is why we never worked. No I'm not smoking, fuck you."

With a mighty warrior cry, Gahanasaur charged at Haruka. It reeled back a mighty claw, ready to strike true at the magical crusader of justice.

Without looking, Haruka held out the Sparkle Magic Scepter behind her, shooting a rainbow beam at the monster's head. It stopped dead in its tracks as it was vaporized from the shoulders up.

"Ugh, fine, I'll pick him up AGAIN. You suck."

Haruka hung up and tapped her tiara. A quick flash and she was back in her sweats.

"Suparaku, I've got to go. Can you handle cleanup?" she asked, stowing her phone and scepter.

It cooed at her, then walked up to the corpse. It grabbed a massive hand and started tugging it away.

Middle-aged magical girl.

She's been defending the Earth since the early 90s and she's very tired.

[chrismalfoy]

𝐂. 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 💌 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡

warnings: smut ! p in v & eating you out

you were lying on your stomach, your tiddies almost spilling out of your crop tank top, and your boxer shorts riding up your ass.

your himalayan salt lamp and astronaut light projector creating a cozy atmosphere in your room, especially with the warm glow of your scented candles.

the countdown from your macbook ticks away as you apply your lip liner. your boyfriend chris, who was dressed in his pirate girl tank top and fresh love black sweats, enters the frame and kneels behind you.

he grabs your waist, lifting you slightly so you're on your fours. his hand presses firmly on your back, making you arch. “chris!” you exclaim.

“what?” he asks, leaning over you a bit and scooting your macbook farther away. you breathe out, feeling his dick brush against you. “no.” you drag your hands closer to you, trying to get up, but it doesn’t work because your hands were immediately pinned behind your back.

the camera captured him slapping your ass, and you squeal, “chris!” he smirks, beginning to massage it, and you lay your face down to the side, exhaling. “you’re..insane.”

“am i?” you hear the tease in his voice. you roll your eyes. you brush your ass against him, causing him to moan, “fuck.” you slowly begin to grind until you feel his dick becoming hard.

he releases your hand and pushes you down, pulling off your shorts and undies. he then flips you onto your back, pulling off his sweats and boxers pumping his dick a few times.

you watch the trail of saliva fall onto your fold. chris brushes his tip against your clit, causing moans to slip from your mouth before he enters.

the macbook shot focuses on him thrusting in and out of you repeatedly, hitting your g-spot on the fifth thrust, causing you to arch your back. he pushes your legs back, "fuck, c-chris."

the sight of your fold swallowing all of his dick drives him crazy. you place your hands on his face, pulling him closer as you crash your lips onto his. chris slides his hand up your crop top, cupping your tits.

you threw your head back with whimpers escaping your lips, signaling that you were reaching your high. your legs began to tremble as you released on his dick. “fuck,” he pulled out and started stroking himself, seconds later his liquid shot onto your stomach.

you gasped and gripped the sheets when you felt his tongue brush against your clit. you became a moaning mess as he sped up the pace and gripped your thighs.

by now, the video had to be five minutes long, and the camera was all fogged up. “chris, chris, chris,” you chanted as your second high hit.

you gasped for air, lifting your head to look at him. you ran your fingers through his hair. his head was now near yours, and he gripped your chin, crashing his lips against yours as his other hand stopped the video.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader play the vanity fair game show

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off the OBX3 interview + suggested by this ask <3

“I am Madelyn Cline and we are here to test how well we know each other.” Madelyn said into the camera, sitting in the “hot seat”. The rest of her OBX costars sat opposite her in two rows, shoulder to shoulder and grinning ear to ear. Drew sat in the back, along with Rudy, JD, and Austin, where y/n sat in the front with Madison, Carlacia, and Chase. Drew wore a light purple blazer, a color the boys had made sure to tease him for all day, but he didn’t mind. Y/n liked the color on him, so of course he was going to wear it.

“... and we’re the cast of Outer Banks!” Madison and Carlacia said, the rest of the cast joining them and waving at the camera. Madison put her head down with a giggle before composing herself and straightening up once more. Y/n could feel Drew’s fingers combing lightly through her hair, playing with the ends as they waited for the game to begin. She looked back at him, grinning at his long, tousled hair. He smiled back, his fingers continuing to run through her hair as they focused back on the game.

“Ok, first question: which astrological sign do I like the most other than mine?” Madelyn said, the end of her marker resting on her lip as she thought. Quickly, the room burst into shouts and guesses, everyone clamoring to win the very first point of the game. Drew stood from his chair, craning his neck to see what Madelyn’s card read.

“Hey, no cheating!” Y/n pointed at him, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face before he sat back down.

“I’m gonna say Gemini.” Drew said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced into the camera.

“Gemini women. Yes.” Madelyn replied, giving Drew the first point. The rest of the cast booed playfully, Drew patting himself on the back as Madelyn’s turn continued. Once she asked her last question, it was Drew’s turn in the hot seat.

“Y/n has to wait to answer.” JD said, the cast turning to y/n, her mouth falling open.

“That is definitely not in the rules!” Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Now they are.” Rudy said with a shrug.

“Ok, what is my secret talent? Bonus, where did I learn my talent?” Drew read, looking over the question card at his co-stars until his eyes met y/n’s. She narrowed her eyes, trying to read into what Drew was going to write on the card, after all, he was a man of many talents.

“Sleeping.” Carlacia said.

“You play piano?” Austin guessed.

“See what’s happening is you're just giving me a lot of ideas.” Drew said, taking the cap off of his marker as he prepared to finalize his answer.

“Oh, write it down, I know it.” Y/n said waving her hand for him to write faster. Once he finished, Drew looked at her to answer.

“Juggling.” She answered, Drew flipping the card around to reveal his answer: juggling/insomnia.

“Question two: what’s my favorite food?” Drew grinned, writing his answer down quickly.

“Mama Jodi’s casserole!” The cast said in unison, Drew nodding as he flipped the card around.

“Almost burned down the apartment complex cooking that one time.” Chase pointed out, causing Drew to gasp.

“That was actually y/n’s fault.” Drew said, pointing a finger at y/n who scoffed.

“You were the one that was distracting me!” Y/n shot back, raising her hands in surrender as she thought of the memory. It had been Drew’s birthday and y/n had decided to surprise him with his favorite casserole. However, the two of them had gotten so entranced in an intense game of Mario Kart that she completely forgot about the food in the oven… until the smoke alarm went off.

“Fine, I will take some blame… only a little bit.” Drew cracked a smile as he shuffled onto the next card.

“Last question: who is my celebrity crush?” Drew scowled, biting his lip as he thought.

“Y/n y/ln.” Rudy said quickly. A small smirk spread across Drew’s lips as he hurriedly wrote his answer down, the rest of the cast hooting and hollering as y/n covered her face with her hands and a flush spread to her cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s correct…” Drew said bashfully, scratching his jaw. “I don’t think she likes me though, if I’m being honest.”

“Definitely not.” Madelyn teased, nudging y/n’s arm playfully.

The game continued, each member of the cast having their turn into their hot seat until it was finally y/n’s turn.

“Drew has to wait to answer.” Y/n said, pointing at Drew. His mouth fell open, his competitive nature kicking in as he groaned.

“The rules, Starkey.” Austin said, shaking his shoulder lightly as y/n picked up her first card.

“What is my favorite movie?” Y/n asked, pausing to think of her answer before writing it down.

“La La Land? The Lego Movie? Moulin Rouge?” Chase guessed, attempting to rattle off as many guesses as possible.

“Pitch Perfect!” Madison said with a giggle, to which y/n nodded.

“Yes, very big Pitch Perfect fan.” Y/n responded. The cast had many memories of watching (and performing) the movie during quarantine when all of them were confined to their shared apartment complex.

“Next question: what is my go-to karaoke song?” Y/n raised her eyebrows as she wrote her answer down on the card.

“Something Taylor Swift, yeah?” Madelyn asked.

“Surprisingly, no.” Y/n laughed. Drew and y/n had hosted many karaoke nights in their shared apartment, the entire cast fitting onto their sofa to sing and dance the night away. The two of them had even gone as far as buying a karaoke machine, complete with mics and lights. It was quite a hit.

“Oh my god, I know it—” Rudy said, snapping his fingers as he searched for the right answer.

“Alanis Morisette...” Drew whispered, to which y/n scowled at him.

“You Oughta Know!” Madelyn cheered, stealing Rudy’s answer with a giggle.

“Yep, that’s right… thank you, Drew.” Y/n said, quirking an eyebrow at Drew who just smiled back. Y/n shuffled her cards for a moment, drawing out the final question.

“Oh boy, last one...” Y/n said dramatically, the cast letting out a string of “ooohs” as y/n cleared her throat.

“What’s my on set snack?” Y/n read, quickly scribbling down her answer as her co-stars looked between each other. Drew sat there, a smug grin on his face as he watched their castmates struggle to answer the very simple question.

“I literally had the same snack every single day.” Y/n said, hoping to direct her co-stars in the right direction.

“I never had the same break time as you two, that’s not fair!” Carlacia said, turning to face Drew who simply shrugged.

“The answer was pickles.” Y/n said, turning the card around to reveal her answer.

“What kind? We need specifics.” JD asked, quirking his brow.

“Dill. The ones in the bag.” Drew answered for y/n, who simply nodded.

“And with that, we are the cast of Outer Banks…” Y/n led, gesturing to her friends opposite her.

“Thanks for watching!” The cast said in unison, waving to the camera.

[rafelandia]

In the Middle of the Night (Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, little bit of cum play, unprotected sex

Summary: Rafe can't sleep. Luckily, the antidote to his ailment is laying in bed right next to him.

Author's Note: I can't stop thinking about Rafe waking Y/N up in the middle of the night for sex. I am addicted to the trope of Rafe being an asshole to everyone except his girl, but this is more of a soft!Rafe moment than anything. If you enjoy, please give a like or reblog. And any requests for blurbs/one shots/etc. are always welcome in my inbox!

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Rafe would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the beach with nothing but the moonlight to guide him, hunker down in his home office and crunch numbers, read a few chapters in his current favorite non-fiction. There were dozens of outlets Rafe had conditioned himself to do when he just couldn’t fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes came insidiously creeping into his head.

There was something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Rafe couldn’t help but feel his boxers growing tighter the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and his hands found their way to her breasts. Rafe began gently kneading them in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got out of her was a shift in her bum on the mattress. A low rumble escaped from his chest at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Rafe always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his plush, pink lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touch as his kisses grew sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Rafe swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-moan half-groan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Rafe grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need you to wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Rafe, the Rafe that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and telling her that he was in the mood. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Rafe, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Rafe's arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Rafe repeated back to her in the same groggy tone. "Can't sleep?" she asked, a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

He gave no response - just a lazy smirk in return. Even in the darkness, Y/N noticed a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. He'd been caught.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his now painfully hard cock; the feathered duvet now pooled at their knees. Rafe hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to bliss when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, reveling in the way Rafe's brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?” he jested.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Rafe's hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Rafe's as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woke her. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste and mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Rafe held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty Kildare High School t-shirt of his that she slept in so he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second before they were intertwined again.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Rafe ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with his cold hands. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety, smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Rafe adored oh-so dearly. Y/N began to feel the wetness from her core pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands cradled his neck, snugly but not tightly as she kissed him, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Y/N," Rafe pleaded, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her. He needed her to do something, anything before he lost his whits.

She locked eyes with Rafe as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Rafe always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, Y/n bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in Rafe's arms with the way his tip was able to brush against all of the sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Rafe. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Rafe's toned stomach, the two of them yearning to reach their ends.

Y/n's bouncing soon turned to lazy, barely motivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable to continue. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped in a sauna. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was growing frustrated that she wouldn't be able to get them both there on her own.

“Rafe,” Y/N whined as she gripped both of Rafe's shoulders tightly, knuckles growing white from the hold she had on them.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Rafe's neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

“I've got you, baby,” he huffed, barely able to spit the words out between each manual breath.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and plunged back into her soaking cunt once more. Y/N cried out at the new angle of Rafe on top of her, watching his dainty, silver chain dangle inches away from her face.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that," Rafe muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “You gonna cum for me first though. Right angel?”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Rafe caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with one of his strong, veiny hands, pressing it even deeper into her chest with his other arm pressed deep into the mattress to balance his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Your pussy's so perfect. Like it was made for me," Rafe moaned. "Gonna fuck you like this every night for the rest of my life."

His words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Rafe could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

"Need you to cum, baby. Need to feel it," Rafe was nearing his breaking point, but knew he couldn't be satisfied without feeling her clench around him first.

Unable to speak due to the way he was pounding into her, Y/N gripped Rafe's shoulders even harder than he was fucking her in response. This made Rafe cockily smile and only pushed him to fuck her more fervently and deeper. His hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung on her quickly, her walls spasming around Rafe's thick, pulsing cock. Y/N let out a sound akin to a high-pitched whine blended perfectly with a scream - it was so beautiful to him. Her orgasm came so suddenly that it caught Rafe off guard as well; he had but mere moments before he found himself filling her up with his warm, milky seed. It was so sudden and intense that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the plush, silky sheets.

They rode it out together, Rafe pumping into her slower and sloppier than just minutes before. Y/N was becoming overwhelmed with the sensation and he was quick to pick up on it. Rafe pulled out slowly, watching Y/N wince as her now-swollen heat contracted around nothing but emptiness. He ran his fingers along her pussy, collecting her wetness and his cum on his digits before gently pressing the mixture back into her core. She hissed at the feeling of him inside of her again and it made Rafe's dick twitch. He could easily go again, but he knew that she couldn't. It was intoxicating to watch her squirm. Next time he thought to himself. He loved to drive her crazy.

They both laid there, Rafe resting his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats return back to their resting rate. She twiddled with the clasp of Rafe's chain while he pecked soft kisses on her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

"I love you," Y/N sighed, her eyes beginning to close as she teetered the line of consciousness.

"I love you, too," Rafe was just as exhausted as she was. Finally.

When they regained their bearings, Rafe reached across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body. With caring hands, he cleaned the two of them, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have a presentation in the morning and you only wake me up to fuck when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Rafe, which while he would never admit, he adored.

She felt Rafe's laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

Rafe could go on midnight runs and read as much as he could, but nothing could put him to sleep as easily as this.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Protected » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is always quick to protect you.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Protective!Bucky, brief mention of blood, guns, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF MADE BY ME! I know it’s not perfect, but I tried

Everything around you was chaotic. Bullets and debris were flying. The sounds of guns being fired. You lost track of how many times you’ve come close almost being shot. Luckily for you, you have fast reflexes and was able to move away before the bullets hit you. Bucky was watching you from a distance. He swore he aged 10 years every time he saw a bullet come close to you before you dodged it. He’s very protective of you and doesn’t like it when you’re hurt.

“Doll, please be careful.” Bucky says to you in his earpiece.

“I am being careful, Sarge.” You say, giving him a thumbs up.

He watched you dodge another bullet shortly after saying that. Bucky took a deep breath before going back to focusing on the mission. You aimed your gun at your target and shot at him, taking him down with ease. You continued to take people down with ease till someone tackled you from behind. You yelped when you hit the concrete, knocking your gun out of your hand. Bucky heard the sound of your yelp and looked over at you.

You grunted, trying to get the guy off of you. You looked in front of you, seeing that your gun was too far out of reach for you to grab and shoot the guy. You groaned loudly. That’s when you realized you have a knife in your thigh holster. You grabbed it and reached behind you, blindly trying to stab the guy, which you did on the first try, stabbing him in the side. The guy cried out in pain and got off of you, holding his now bloody side. You rolled over onto your back, trying to regroup yourself. You were about to stand up when you heard Yelena’s voice.

“Y/N, stay down!” Yelena shouts.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and looked in front of you, seeing a truck flying towards you. Your eyes went wide and your body froze. Your mind was telling you to get up and run, but your body wasn’t reacting. All you could do was cover your head and hope the truck didn’t squash you. That’s when you heard the sound of vibranium colliding with metal. You uncovered your head and looked up to see Bucky standing in front of you and the truck landing behind you. It didn’t take you long to realize that Bucky stopped the truck front hitting you with his vibranium arm. Bucky turned around and looked down at you. He crouched down in front of you and gave you a hug.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asks softly.

You were too in shock to answer him. Bucky unwrapped his arms from your body and checked you out for any injuries. You were fine, besides the cut you have on your forehead and the scrape you have on your knee.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked him when you watched his facial expression change from a softened look to a worried look.

“You have a cut on your forehead and a scraped knee.” Bucky tells you.

You looked down at your knee, noticing a little bit of blood and your tactical pants ripped due to you scraping your knee. You assumed that was from when you got tackled to the ground not too long ago. You put a hand on your forehead, feeling some blood when you touched the cut. You took your hand away from your forehead and looked at your hand. Your eyes went wide when you seen the blood.

“I’m bleeding.” You say, beginning to panic.

“Hey, focus on me.” Bucky cupped your cheeks to get you to look at him. “You’re going to be fine, doll. I’m going to patch you up and you’ll be good as new.” He promises.

You stared in his blue eyes and nodded your head. Bucky picked you up bridal style and took you inside of a building to get you patched up. He sat you down on a chair and went to find a first aid kit, which he found with ease. When he came back, he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of you. He started with the scrape on your knee and put your leg across his lap.

“That’s going to sting.” You whimpered softly, watching him put some alcohol on a cotton ball.

“You can hold onto me if you want.” Bucky says.

You put one of your hands on his vibranium shoulder, preparing yourself for the stinging you’re about to feel on your knee. You hissed and winced when you felt the alcohol in the scrape, your nails digging in his black t-shirt. As Bucky was patching you up, realization hit you and your eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asks softly with concern in his voice.

“That truck could’ve crushed me.” You say, still in shock.

“But it didn’t.” He says.

“What if it did?” You asked, thinking the worst.

Your mind was making you think the worst. Bucky stopped patching you up momentarily to gently cup your cheeks, getting you to look in his blue eyes.

“Hey, no. Don’t go there.” Bucky coos softly. “I stopped the truck from hitting you. I kept you safe.” He says.

Bucky kissed your forehead softly before going back to patching you up. You couldn’t help but watch him.

“Something on your pretty little mind, doll?” Bucky asks, not looking up from your scraped knee.

You didn’t say anything. Bucky stopped what he was doing when you gently caressed his bearded cheek and looked up at you. Before either of you knew it, your lips were on his. He was caught by surprise, but kissed you back. It took you a few seconds to realize what you were doing and pulled your lips away from his.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to do that.” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Why are you apologizing?” Bucky asks.

“Cause I kissed you.” You say.

You were caught by surprise when Bucky kissed you softly. You two were so into the kiss that you guys didn’t hear Yelena walk in the room.

“Are you- oh, sorry.” Yelena apologizes, accidentally walking in on you and Bucky kissing.

You and Bucky quickly pulled away from each other and looked at Yelena with the look of embarrassment on your faces.

“I was gonna ask if Y/N is ok, but you two are clearly busy. I’ll come back later.” She says before walking out of the room.

You and Bucky bursted out laughing. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder.

“That wasn’t our finest moment.” Bucky says.

“Agreed.” You say, leaning your forehead against his shoulder.

After the little awkward moment, Bucky went back to patching you up, which didn’t take too long.

“There you go.” Bucky smiles. “See, I told you’d be good as new after you’re patched up.” He says, lighting up the mood.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled up at him.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He says.

“Also, thank you for saving me from that truck almost hitting me.” You say.

“You don’t have to thank me, babydoll. I just want you to be protected.” He says softly, kissing your forehead, making you smile.

“If that person protecting me is you, I’ll be so protected.” You say, smiling up at him.

“I feel honored to be that person.” Bucky says, smiling back.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[cupidhoons]

                 STUDY DATE       ⎯⎯     ﹙  정원  ﹚

              📖       high achiever   ,    don't you see?

in which  . . .  your boyfriend comes over to help you productively study  —   정원  x  f! reader   ୨୧   highschool! au  /  fluff    wc  761   ・     w   studying (#effstudying) maths (gross) petnames jungwon is a tease lolol   +   from liz.  my jw debut on this account 😍

                 likes and feedback are greatly appreciated ><

YOU SAT HUNCHED OVER YOUR DESK, head on the table as your boyfriend talked away about the importance of mathematics. The open notebook in front of you was a blur, refusing to make any sense. 

The real problem wasn’t the maths—it was Jungwon. Sitting just a breath away, looking effortlessly perfect, he made concentration impossible. You bit your lip, mentally cursing your brain for prioritising his stupidly good looks over your homework. 

“Are you even listening to what I'm saying?” Jungwon says, eyebrows knitting together. He spins the pencil between his fingers, effortlessly moving it around. The pencil probably knew more than you did, you thought, biting back a groan.

“Uh…yes?” you lied, barely convincing even yourself. 

“Y/N,” he said, exasperation laced in his tone.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze. But it was too late—he’d already risen from his chair and made his way to your bed.

You turned in your chair to watch him plop down onto the mattress, his blond hair fanning out across your pillow as he stared at the ceiling, and you had to resist every urge to crawl over and bury your fingers in his hair.

The silence in the room was filled with the faint hum of your fan. He didn't even need to look at you, yet you could feel his presence. 

“Wonnie,” you whined, breaking the silence. “I'm bored.” 

Jungwon didn't move, his gaze fixated on the ceiling. “We've been taking breaks the whole evening I've been here, love.” 

“But I clearly can't focus!” you argued, spinning your chair to face him fully. “Can we please take another-”

“No,” He cut you off, sitting up and locking his gaze onto yours. 

“What-”

“We aren't taking another break, Y/n.” 

“Please?” You tried again, pouting this time. 

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by your attempt. “You're cute, but no.” 

You sigh at his rejection. He was too stern, too hard to make him give in to you. Studying was the last thing on your mind. 

How could he expect you to focus when everything about him was a distraction? The way he smelled—warm and comforting like vanilla and something distinctly Jungwon. The way his lips curved into a teasing smile. The way his cat-like eyes seemed to see through every excuse you made.

You place your head back on the small stack of notebooks, dramatically sighing as you play around with the pen in your hand. 

“It's your fault y’know…” you whined, spinning slowly in your chair to face him. Your pen clattered to the desk as you leaned forward, chin in hand. “I can't focus because of you.”

“My fault?” Jungwon raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching at the corners. He leaned back on his hands tilting his head. “How?” The faint smirk on his face was nearly enough to drive you over the edge. 

“You're just too…distracting.” You huffed. “How am I supposed to think about numbers when you're sitting there looking like…that?” 

His brow lifted, lips curving into a barely suppressed grin. “Looking like what?” 

“You know what,” you shot back, folding your arms. 

“You mean…in a T-Shirt and some sweats?” 

“Don't play dumb, Won. You're-” you waved your hand at him again, unable to find the words — “you're just unfair.” 

He laughed, clearly amused at your lack of words. “Unfair? You're the one pouting like we’re in some sort of rom-com movie.” He teases. 

You let out another groan, annoyed at his teasing. “Whatever! You're just distracting!” You say, spinning back over to your desk, desperately trying to figure out the equation you haven't even started on. But even then, you felt his gaze on you. Pricking at the back of your head, sending shivers down your spine. 

Jungwon walks over to you, spinning your chair around to face him once more. “What are you-”

He leans in close, lips almost touching yours. You were hypnotised, and he knew that. “Y/n,” he said, his voice soft and almost enticing. Your stomach did a flip. “I think you're just looking for an excuse not to study.” 

Your heart raced, the closeness of him stealing every coherent thought from your mind. “Maybe…,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled then, warm and teasing. “Thought so.”

Before you could protest—or maybe beg for another distraction—he pulled away, leaving you breathless as he returned to your desk.

“Now,” he said, tapping your notebook with the pencil, “back to work.”

You stared at him, utterly flustered and trying to recover your composure. This boy was going to be the death of you.

[n0vazsq]

Pretty Boy | LN4 x Reader

pairing . . . lando norris x gf!artist!reader

summary . . . While you're sketching a drawing of Lando, you notice that something's off with him. Then, you remind him that he's much more than what people think of him

request . . . no!

word count . . . 759

warnings . . . none! just one use of 'damn'

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . first lando fic!!! a bit short but i hope you guys like it <33

. . . The room smelled like salted caramel and the leather of the couch you were currently sitting on. Lando sat across from you, sat on the arm of the chair, one leg bouncing restlessly. The glow from his phone lit up his face every few seconds, softening the sharpness of his jawline, but it didn’t hold his attention for long. He set it down after scrolling aimlessly, leaning back with a sigh.

"You know," you started, stretching out your legs, "you really need to learn how to sit still. You’re stressing me out."

He flashed you that damn grin, the one he knew you hated for how effortlessly it made you forgive him for everything. "You sound like my engineer," he laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe I should be," you shot back, holding up the sketchpad in your lap. "You’re not exactly making this easy for me."

His eyes flicked to the page, and he tilted his head, squinting slightly. "That’s me?"

"Who else do you think I’ve been sketching this whole time? Your mum?"

Lando grinned, leaning in closer to get a better look. His hair was slightly messy, still damp from the shower he’d taken earlier, and you could smell the faint trace of his shampoo as he hovered over your shoulder. "Not bad," he said with mock seriousness, tapping his chin. "You almost got my nose right."

You turned your head, glaring playfully. "Almost? You’re lucky I even attempted that ski slope you call a nose."

He pretended to be offended, leaning back dramatically, a hand on his chest. "Ski slope? That’s rich coming from someone who-" He cut himself off, laughing at your raised eyebrow.

"Go on," you urged, smirking now.

"Nah," he said, still laughing as he settled back into the chair. "You’re not worth the fight."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Lando had this way of lighting up a room without even trying, of making you feel like the only person who mattered when he turned that adorable charm your way. It was infuriating, really.

But tonight, something about him seemed quieter. The usual spark in his eyes was dimmer, and the edges of his grin didn’t reach as far.

"What’s going on with you?" you asked, setting the sketchpad aside.

He shrugged, looking down at his hands, which were fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About....?"

He hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally meeting your gaze. "You ever feel like… I don’t know. Like people only see what they want to see when they look at you?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Where’s this coming from?"

He shrugged again, more defensively this time. "It’s just… I don’t know. Everyone’s always saying stuff, you know? About me. Pretty boy this, golden boy that. Like that’s all I am."

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. "You know that’s not true, right?"

"Isn’t it?" he countered, his voice softer now, more uncertain.

"My beloved Lando." You said his name like it was the answer to a question he didn’t want to ask. "You’re so much more than what people say. You’re brilliant, and kind, and funny, annoyingly so, actuall. You care about the people around you more than you probably should."

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you with this look that made your chest tighten.

"I don’t see some ‘pretty boy,’" you continued. "I see you. The real you. And if other people don’t, that’s their loss. But just saying, you are pretty."

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "You’re too good at this whole therapy talk thing, you know that?"

You smirked, leaning back against the couch again. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep your ego contained."

He laughed then, the sound breaking through the tension like sunlight through a cloud. And when he looked back at you, the spark in his eyes was there again, faint but unmistakable.

"Thanks," he said simply.

"For what?"

"For being here. For being… ," He took a deep breath, arms raising and falling, like he was trying to cut the air. "You.”

Your smile softened, and you shrugged. "Someone’s gotta put up with you."

He laughed again, shaking his head. "Lucky me, huh?"

And in the glow of the room, with the soft hum of the music in the background, you thought maybe you were the lucky one.

[regardtheinnocent]

Ororon x male reader who is delighted with his little ears and wings?? This emo boy is too cute, and what if reader abuses his cute features during sex.I am sure that he will blush a lot from such attention! I love him too much. 😔

Contains: Dom!GN!Reader, Sub!Ororon, Lots of position changing 😅, Teasing (character receiving), Penetration (character receiving), reader has a cock/strap on, Ororon being a cutie pie, safeword exists but isn't referenced *note: I love him too, I fear that I'm a sucker for emo & bat characters haha.

Your hands drift to fondle Ororon's soft ears as they often do. You gently press your thumb, pointer and middle fingers together and begin rubbing them, finding it amusing that the poor farmer instantly quieted down.

"These ears of your's are sooo soft, love. I could pet them all day." You hum to him, choosing to ignore the current predicament that you were both in.

What was said predicament?

Well, you were buried deep in the poor thing, much too deep— he might add. You had him all sprawled out on your bed, his marked up and shaking thighs thrown over your shoulders.

Ororon swore his eyes rolled back slightly when you leaned forward to get a better angle to touch his ears. The sudden shift in movement made you press so much deeper, your tip felt like it was bullying his prostate at this point.

A weak squeal left the man's lips he tried his very best to shy away from your touch.

Not that you let him, of course.

No, you just had to move one of your hands down to his waist and hold him still. Fuck, Ororon was seeing stars.

"Mm.. God, pl—please [Name], you don't need to touch— Ah! them.." The farmer slurred back as he tried to keep his eyes open as best he could.

"Too deep— hngh ugh.." Ororon whined as you moved yet again. It was cute that the little bat was acting so shy all of a sudden.

Though, Ororon's wings flapped uselessly at his sides, prompting you to move your hand from his waist to hold onto one of them.

Gently, naturally. You didn't want to hurt him, after all.

"Its so hard not to though, sweetheart. And these wings that are fluttering around are just too tempting.." You reply as a slight smirk adorns your lips.

Ororon just shakes his head as he attempts at keeping his embarrassingly needy moans at bay. Which he fails at.

Then, you begin to move your hips again. You pull out halfway before pushing back in, watching as your baby goes cross eyed in an instant.

"You've been too chatty, angel. I must not be doing my job good enough, hmm?" You tease as Ororon manages to weakly kick at your back with his heels.

It was involuntary, really. He was just too stimulated and didn't know what to do.

When you left his ears alone for a moment, the farmer breathed a sigh of relief— only for said breath to turn into a squeal when you take his legs in your hands and fold him in half.

Though, once you've got him bent nicely, you only bother to use a single hand to hold both of his calves together.

You were doing an amazing job at bullying the poor thing with your body, watching him fall apart as you grabbed one of his wings.

"Nooo— Hnghh- ah! S'too muchh..." Ororon slurs out in a whiny voice as his mind melted more and more.

You gave his bat wing a gentle tug in response. You, of course, make sure not to be too rough when doing so.

Though, it was rough enough for the farmer to arch his back as cum shot out of his cock without warning. He let out his loudest squeal yet, which was really quite embarrassing in pitch.

Oh... his face is so pretty when he comes. It always is.

You paused for a moment, before a nice smile spread across your face. You weren't done with Ororon yet, not when you'd just made him finish from a wing tug. Oh no no no.

Instead, you flip him on his tummy for easier access to his pretty wings.

"Whu— [Name]-! I just caAAH—" You interrupt your darling mid sentence by promptly gripping both of his wings by the base and using them for leverage to fuck back into his hole.

All poor Ororon can do is claw and grab at the pillows and sheets in a desperate but vain attempt to ground himself.

You snap your hips forward over and over again as you feel your lover tighten around you. Its like he wants to keep you inside, how adorable.

Ororon can feel the burn of overstimulation settling in quite quickly, after all you're fucking him like an animal.

Though, he can only sob into the pillows as he feels the coil in his tummy tighten again, getting ready to snap again.

"Ple— Please!" Ororon all but begs as his cock rubs against the sheets, giving him more feelings that he can't handle.

"You can cum again, can't you, baby? Yeah.. you can do it." You coo back in a jarringly soothing voice, one that made the poor thing want to relax despite everything.

So he simply nods into the pillows as you continue plowing him from behind, and eventually, he shoots another load right against the previously soiled sheets.

"Goodd boy..." You groan as you tug on his wings, getting him to let out a few more spirts of cum before finally letting him rest.

You pull out slowly and your hands switch to tenderly rubbing over the bases of the farmer's wings, easing the soreness that would likely form in the coming hours.

"You did so good for me." You murmur and Ororon responds with a weak purr.

[gamblersdoll]

spit, wlw, scissoring, dildos, slapping, hair pulling, multi hcs, blindfolds, smoking weed.

a/n: i am seeing so many clips of s2 of arcane and all i wanna do is beat my meat and cry. HELP.

𝒱𝐼 (𝒱𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓉)

vi was a switch, at times becoming so needy when it was ovulation week and her clit throbbed from basically every and anything you did— (smells, taste from your lip gloss, how you did your hair), and she became more loose when it came down to the t.

but with vi? she could be impatient, the leaning dominance from her spilling from her actions and kissing your lips like she would die soon. moreover, her knee would always end up between your thighs. “cmon, baby,” she always whispered when she wasnt getting what she wanted. she cupped your jaw, essentially forcing your tongue out to lick a flat line up yours and to feel your folds— that were more than drenched, pulsate when she moved your hips back nd forward. “can feel her talkin to me..”

“vivi..” you moaned, surprised by how she knew where your specific body parts were at. you feel the back of her blind fold, to see if possibly it cane loose— yet, it was still tight. “cheater.” you chuckle, she does too. “want to taste you.. is that okay?”

“sounds good.. wanted you to for so long.”

once she was on her back, it was all over when your lips met her clit. she jumped a little bit, not having anyone other than caitlyn and her prison wife touch her.. it felt so surreal all over again, and to have her pierced nipples be tugged softly and played at.

she feels everything, especially with the christina that she pierced herself.

but— she feels it all, how many taste buds you had, how many nerves you know you could feel. “like that, vi?” you asked so softly for her, looking up to see her blindfolded head nod so eagerly. that was until the needy shit pressed your head down to force your tongue in her pulsing hole. “mmff!”

“savor it all— please, don’t go.” she muttered, her hips thrusting up to your mouth by accident. her hands move for her, softly slapping your cheek to egg you on. “sorry..”

“shh, shh.. its okay, mama.”

𝒥𝐼𝒩𝒳

jinx was almost like you, being so far gone when it came to your sessions and how heated the both of you get. she sees you as some big mistress that always called shots.

when in reality, you were a bottom that loved being pleased and to be used.

so all she knew to do was get a double ended dildo, to please herself and to please you. it feels even better doing it with someone who was eager for her, for you. because when you moved simultaneously, rhythmically, in sync— your clits bumped together. and when you pulled away? you could feel each others slick separate in despair.

“hnng..!” she squealed in her throat, a hand covering her mouth and she squeezes a breast of yours. “you— you look so pretty, sweetie.” she mumbled, a red hue across her face from the heat, and from the fact shes got a dildo inside both herself and you. she moans softly, tweaking at your nipple and her own.

“jinx..” you mewled, feeling your legs spread open moreover to have jinx get deeper— to get closer to you. and once she does— her slender body leans up to yours and her plump, yet slightly chapped lips press against your fuller and darker lips. “feels so much better with you this close.”

she nods eager, her pretty pinkish purple irises that look like does eyes in this moment staring at you. “your.. your not gonna deny me a—“ you try to ask, but she rolls her hips faster at a desperate pace. “jin—xx!” you say in surprise, eyes becoming heavy and lidded by time when you feel her tongue lick up your throat.

“want this forever, yknow?” she asks, sucking on your neck and holding your hands.

𝒮𝐸𝒱𝐼𝒦𝒜

sevika was a bitch when it came to sex.

shes a brute, never faltering her ego when it had you on your knees and having her look down at you. she beckons you over with two fingers, “crawl,” she reminds you to do. you slowly press one knee before the other, becoming in between her thighs and she tilts your head up. “open,” she commands, slightly pulling at your hair.

“spat!” she spits in your mouth, keeping her grip on your hair as she pulled her jeans off. she was also a weird one, not really wearing drawls when it came to jeans specifically. she steps out of them, pressing your mouth to her brown clit. “thats my girl,” she mumbled, smacking her right hand against your cheek.

“ ‘vika..” you moan with her clit in your mouth, tongue dancing around it for her to pull her lip back by her teeth. “feel good, baby?”

“my favorite girl, being so good.” she praises, sitting down and spreading her legs in a man spread. “hop back to it, if you desperately want to come.” she reminds you, you getting back between her thighs and suckling at her folds. “suck harder, you know how to do this.”

you did, but she keeps slapping your face— and landing blows on your ass. “thats better, behave.” she muses, leaning forward slightly and slipping her ungloved fingers inside your aching walls to your smaller body. “vikaaas..” you moaned, her body getting goosebumps from the vibration. “want you so bad, mama.”

she takes a pull from the joint, drawing a long hit. she keeps the smoke in her mouth, the taste becoming slightly bitter— pulling your head up by your hair with her robo arm to sigh smoke into your mouth. “vika! you know i get more sensitive when im high out’ta my mind!”

“quit yer whinin’, you love that nasty shit you get when youre high.”

[mapis-putellas]

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏

Pairing: Leah Williamson x reader

Words: 1000+

Warnings: none

Summary: A love confession in the rain, from your best friend no less, was the last thing you expected when you woke up this morning. [Request]

The rain hammered down on the pavement, pooling into small rivers at your feet as you stood under the deluge, arms crossed over your chest in a weak attempt to shield yourself from the cold. But it wasn't just the rain that chilled you; it was the look on Leah’s face, her blue eyes ablaze with frustration, her blonde hair plastered to her face. The tension between you two had been simmering for weeks, but tonight, it had finally boiled over.

You were tired of the silence. Tired of the distance. Tired of Leah pretending you didn't exist.

"You're going to tell me what's going on, Leah!" you shouted over the pounding rain, your voice cracking with the strain of holding back tears. "I'm not leaving until you do!"

Leah crossed her arms, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "There's nothing to talk about," she said, her tone clipped and cold, the words carrying a weight that made your heart ache.

"Don't give me that!" you fired back, stepping closer despite the puddles pooling at your feet. "You've been ignoring me for weeks, Leah. You barely look at me, you don't text back, you avoid me at training. What did I do? Just tell me!"

Her eyes flashed with something sharp, but she stayed silent, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Fine," you said, throwing your arms out in exasperation. "You won't tell me? Then I'll guess. Did I say something? Did I do something? Or are you just bored of me now?"

Leah's head snapped up at that, her expression shifting from cold to furious in an instant. "Bored of you?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You think that's what this is about?"

"What else am I supposed to think?" you shot back, your own anger bubbling to the surface. "You won't tell me anything! All I know is that one day, you were my best friend, and the next, you couldn't even look at me!"

"I couldn't look at you because it hurts!" Leah shouted, the words ripping from her throat like they'd been clawing to get out. "It hurts, alright?"

You froze, the rain suddenly feeling colder against your skin. "What?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Leah took a shaky breath, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Do you know how hard it is to be around you every day and act like everything's fine?" she said, her voice breaking. "To act like I don't feel... like I don't—" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

"Feel what, Leah?" you pressed, your own voice trembling now.

She looked at you then, really looked at you, her blue eyes filled with so much emotion that it made your chest ache. "Like I'm in love with you," she said, the words falling from her lips like a confession and a curse all at once.

The world seemed to stop. The rain, the cold, the ache in your chest—it all faded as you stared at her, trying to process what she'd just said. "You... you love me?"

Leah let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her soaked hair. "Yeah," she said, her voice heavy with defeat. "I love you. And I hate it, because it's ruining everything."

"Ruining everything?" you repeated, your heart breaking at the way she said it. "Leah, how could you think that?"

"Because it's true!" she said, her voice rising again. "I can't focus, I can't think, I can't even look at you without feeling like I'm going to fall apart. I thought if I pushed you away, it would get easier, but it hasn't. It's just made everything worse."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your own tears mix with the rain on your cheeks. "Leah," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You don't have to push me away."

She shook her head, her arms wrapping around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Yes, I do," she said, her voice barely audible. "Because if I don't, then I'll lose you for real. And I can't... I can't handle that."

Her words broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at you. "Leah, you idiot," you said, your voice shaking. "You're not going to lose me. You couldn't lose me if you tried."

Her eyes searched yours, her expression shifting from anger to confusion to something that looked like hope. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm saying I love you too, you absolute muppet," you said, a wet laugh escaping your lips.

Leah stared at you, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to find the right words. But before she could say anything, you leaned in and kissed her, the rain still falling around you as her lips met yours.

It wasn't a perfect kiss. It was messy and desperate, both of you shaking from the cold and the emotion, but it was everything you needed it to be. When you finally pulled away, Leah's forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your lips.

"You love me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

You smiled, brushing a strand of wet hair out of her face. "Yeah, I do," you said. "Even when you drive me absolutely mad."

Leah let out a shaky laugh, her arms slipping around your waist as she pulled you closer. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry for everything. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," you said, your own tears spilling over. "And I'm sorry too. For pushing you. For not seeing it sooner."

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other as the rain continued to fall. The anger, the frustration, the hurt—it all melted away, leaving only the warmth of Leah's arms around you and the steady beat of her heart against yours.

The rain didn't feel so bad anymore.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @wileys-russo @silentwolfsstuff @simp4panos @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @mead-iocre

[yanderedrabbles]

Misery - Part Two

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Previous Chapter

The thing that brought you straight from unconsciousness and howling into the world of the living was your shoulder. In the bleary haze after you crashed, you were hurting in so many places that you couldn't have focused on an individual ache even if you tried.

It wasn't until the stranger popped your arm back into place that you realised it was dislocated at all.

You woke up with your shoulder and upper back a sharp, aching mess. You also woke up screaming.

"Easy, easy there ma'am. Hush now, you can take it."

The stranger's thick drawl was right next to your ear and you turned your head to find his hands on your upper arm.

You groaned. "I'm suffering enough without being insulted."

You tried to sit up and a host of new pains made themselves very known. You slumped back with a small gasp.

"I may look rough, but I am nowhere near old enough to be a ma'am, thank you very much."

To your surprise, he laughed. And if you weren't becoming intimately aware of your pain tolerance, you would have realised what a nice laugh he had.

"Hell, if you're this lively after I gave you morphine, I'm terrified to find you sober."

The man next to you was slowly taking shape out of the halos of light that streaked your vision. Grey eyes, that was the first thing you noticed. A kind of gunmetal grey that you would have found frightening if he hadn't been smiling.

"Oh, I've never had morphine before."

If you were hurting this much after getting doped up on pain meds, a part of you was terrified about them wearing off. A smaller part of you worried terribly about how much he'd given you. The rest of you however, was succumbing to the deep sleep that banged up bodies seem to demand.

Dimly you realised the stranger had stood up and was about to walk away. You thought of your car in the snow and your body hunched over the steering wheel, blood dripping little by little onto the floorboards.

Your hand shot out with a speed you didn't think yourself capable of and grabbed his wrist. The stranger stilled and looked down at you. Tall, that was the second thing you noticed.

"Please don't leave me."

You were falling asleep against your will and your voice was cracked with pain.

He wavered and then slowly sat down in the chair next to your bed.

"Alright then, I'll be right here. So you go on back to sleep."

Kind, that was the third thing you noticed about him.

As you fell asleep, your fingers stayed wrapped around his wrist. In that isolated cabin, with the wind driving snow down the chimney and rattling the hastily put up winter shutters, former USMC Corporal Andrew Wilkes smiled for the first time in six months.

......

Waking up the second time was much slower and a whole lot less painful.

You opened your eyes to the watery light of early morning. A thousand different aches called for your attention. To start with, your left leg was a throbbing mass of low grade suffering. Everything below the knee felt stiff and bruised. No, sharper than just bruising. You would have to take a look for yourself later.

Your ribs felt tender, like you'd gone head to head with a kickboxer who harboured a very personal grudge.

Your shoulder however, was a thousand times better than last night.

You sat up slowly, the sheets rustling quietly. Your mind felt slow and groggy - it must have been the after effects of the morphine. You heard a quiet groan and froze.

The stranger was asleep on the armchair next to you, his upper body resting on the bed. You still had your hand clasped loosely around his wrist but at some point in the night he'd shifted and now his other hand was draped over yours.

His hands were nicked with a collection of little scars and his palms felt calloused with work, but they were warm and you found yourself comforted by that.

He was handsome too, with thick blond hair and a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. A raised scar carved a crescent on his cheekbone and without realising it, you reached out to touch it.

Your fingers must have been warm because he smiled just a little before he opened his eyes.

"Mornin' ma'am."

Was his voice always so deep or was it just sleep? You pulled your fingers away from his face with a jerk.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

He sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. You noticed he was wearing a courdroy jacket lined with sheepskin. For some reason, you thought it suited him perfectly.

"Ain't a bother. Besides, I'd be a damn shitty medic if I slept longer than my patient."

There was a faint clinking sound and you realised he was wearing a pair of dog tags on a chain around his neck.

"I'm Andy, by the way. Andy Wilkes."

You smiled. It felt strange to just now be learning his name, after you'd spent all night clutching onto his wrist.

"Y/N."

You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward despite your drowsiness.

"Thank you, for saving me. I would have died in the snow if you hadn't rescued me."

You looked into his eyes and then quickly away. Something about that gunmetal gray made you shiver.

"I owe you my life."

He was thoughtful for a moment.

"It was pure fate that I even saw your car way down in the trees. And good luck that I know enough first aid to fix you up."

He shrugged. "It ain't me you should be thanking."

"Still, others might not have stopped for a stranger."

He raised a brow and glanced down at the hand you still had clasped around his wrist. "How about you let me go and we call it even?"

Were you blushing? It sure felt like it, with the way your cheeks suddenly tingled. You let go like he was made of lava.

"Right. Um...Sorry about that."

He shot you a small smile. "Don't be. It was...nice."

He stood up and your half unconscious observation had been right - he really was tall. He was wearing Levi's and a pair of cowboy boots. There was a dark stain down his left leg and with a start you realised it was your blood. He hadn't even changed since bringing you here.

"You were banged up pretty bad. You should have some breakfast and then I can give you more pain medication."

You nodded eagerly. Your pain had faded a little when you spoke to him but it still throbbed throughout your body.

"And uhh..." He looked away from you and rubbed at his jaw. "I'll give you some clothes to change into."

He brought you a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants you felt sure to drown in. He set them on your nightstand and dragged open his first aid kit.

You raised a brow at the size of the thing. In addition to the regular bandages and disinfectant, he carried hypodermic needles, sutures and a whole host of injectable ampules. Is this how he had access to morphine?

"I used to be a medic, back when I was in the Marines." He smiled at you properly for the first time. "You're in good hands, I promise."

He put his fingers under your jaw and tilted your face towards him. You flinched as peeled back the gauze above your eyebrow.

"Let's get a good look at you - how are you feeling?"

You tried to smile and couldn't find the energy.

"It hurts."

"I'd be surprised if it didn't. This cut up here was pretty bad. You were bleedin' like crazy."

He dipped a cloth into a murky white antibacterial liquid and dabbed gently at the cut. He was close enough that you could see the pulse that beat in his neck.

"I've given you a few stitches up here. They seem to be holding fine."

"Stitches? Do you think it'll scar?"

He paused. "Maybe. But you're pretty enough that a little scar ain't gonna make a difference."

Okay, this time you were definitely blushing.

He bandaged you up again and his hands trailed down to your shoulders. From the look of him, you'd expect him to have a heavy touch, but he was careful and gentle.

"Shrug, maybe move around a bit."

You managed it, despite some stiffness.

"Good. We'll need to focus on working your shoulder a little everyday. Keep you limber as the swelling goes down."

"Yes, sir."

He tensed up for just a second before he continued.

"Any bruising or cuts you think I might have missed?"

"My ribs are hurting something awful."

"Lay down."

Good god, was he a natural at giving commands. You found yourself on your back without really realizing you moved. He lifted your shirt up and you flinched at the feeling of his hands on the soft skin of your belly.

"Take a deep breath for me."

You managed it without too much of a struggle.

"Good. Looks like it's just some bruising."

You noticed the lace of your bra peaking out from under your shirt at about the same time he did. He pulled his palm away from your waist like you scalded him and yanked down your shirt with none of the clinical professionalism with which be raised it.

He cleared his throat. "It's your leg I'm worried about."

He turned away from you to bend over your right foot, but not before you caught the redness creeping across his cheeks.

Your jeans were cut open to the knee and your ankle was a bulging monstrosity wrapped in layers and layers of bandages. He kept one hand wrapped around your calf as he worked and when you flinched away, he just tightened his grip and continued.

"It looks like a very nasty sprain. Grade 2 at least. Might take a few months to heal totally. For now though, you absolutely cannot walk on it."

He looked up at you as though to emphasise his point. "Any activity for the next few weeks will just set your healing back. Not to mention hurt like a bitch."

He sounded so mean when he swore that you dropped your eyes.

He straightened up. "From the look of things, I reckon you've bruised some of the bones in your calf too. So just keep off this leg."

"Ummm." You felt stupidly bashful with his hand still on your leg. "How am I supposed to move around?"

"Hmm. I might have an old crutch lying around here somewhere. If not, I'll just have to carry you."

He said it so damn casually, as if picking you up was the easiest thing in the world. You remembered how easily he got you out of your car and realised that to him, carrying you was just as easy as hauling wood or slinging a ruck on a march. Hell, easier maybe.

You were just a little afraid of his strength.

He nodded to the clothes he left beside you. "You try and change and I'll go and get your breakfast ready."

It was only after he'd closed the door behind him that you realised - he hadn't said anything about taking you to a hospital.

Next Chapter [coming soon]

Masterlist

[op-sys-chaos]

Alfred explains Tim’s birthday to Jason and Damian in a cold, unfeeling manner. As if reciting a long-ago memorized quote rather than recounting a horrific thing done to a child.

Bruce sits there and does nothing.

Jason yells at both of them for it.

Bruce does nothing.

Damian stands up and tells Bruce that Tim is right and Bruce should have stopped Damian from trying to murder Tim. Damian didn’t know better then, but he does now and he wishes Bruce had taught him sooner.

Bruce does nothing.

Jason and Damian lock eyes and nod. Then they leave together. They go to a restaurant - not the Thai one, but one across the street, and they sit in the window where Tim and Dick can see them. Jason and Damian take a selfie, caption it “fuck Bruce Wayne,” and send it to the group chat. When Cass, who missed this whole event, expresses confusion, Jason replies “Turns out B fucked us over more than we realized. He hurt Tim deeply. And Damian too. Tim via some REAL fucked bullshit, and Damian by not teaching him not to kill fast enough.”

Damian adds “I have regretted trying to kill Tim since the moment I saw the harm in it. I am upset at Father for refusing to stop me sooner. Tim has far more right to be upset about it than me, though.”

Dick pulls out his phone and reads the messages, turning to the boys across the street and giving them a small smile. Tim reads it too, but his expression remains blank.

Babs texts back a minute later, saying “hacked the manor cameras and watched what happened. Jason, good on you for screaming at Bruce. You should’ve been far meaner about it, though. That was fucked UP of them to do it Tim.”

Tim’s phone alone pings with a direct text a moment later, giving him the link to Jason’s scream fest and telling him “next time Bruce pulls something like that I’m forcing my dad to adopt you instead of letting Bruce keep you.”

Bruce remains silent in the group chat too.

Jason and Damian are furiously typing. Tim glances at them across the street and sees it, and wonders what they’re typing. He finds out when, half an hour later, the most beautifully written apologies he’s ever seen arrive in his text inbox. Tim analyzes the messages; the two clearly asked for help from Dinah on how to make the apology sincere because they didn’t know how to say it. They even mention that they never said it before because they didn’t know how, and they would’ve tried if they realized how bad Tim was hurting about it. Jason says he was still calling Tim “replacement” as a joke at this point, and thought Tim knew. That he’ll stop now. Damian says the same about the casual insults; he didn’t know how else to act but sees how it’s wrong and will work harder on stopping.

Tim isn’t ready to forgive them. He tells Dick as much, and Dick nods. “I get it,” he tells Tim. And realizing that the time is right to speak up, he finally apologizes for the “giving away Robin” incident. He tells Tim the truth; it was Alfred. He didn’t know how to say it before now, not wanting to shatter his brother’s view of their pseudo grandfather. But now? Now he knows he can say it. And he does. And still, even though it’s not on him, Dick apologizes.

Tim forgives Dick a lot faster.

Bruce still is silent in the group chat.

The meal ends, and Dick pays for him and Tim’s food. Then, Tim walks across the street and walks up to the hostess stand. He doesn’t speak to his brothers, but he hands over his card and asks to pick up their tab.

It’s not forgiveness. Not by a long shot. But it’s a start.

—

The bats, besides Batman, don’t go out that night. They don’t even return to the manor.

Bruce Wayne goes out to work the next day and Alfred goes out to get groceries. They come home to find themselves locked out with a note on the door that says “no jerks allowed” in purple crayon.

Bruce nods and heads for a safe house instead, Alfred in tow. The two sit down and brainstorm. Within two hours, a car catalogue arrives at the manor, with a handwritten note that says “what we should’ve given you for your sixteenth birthday. Pick any one you want, if you want.”

Tim burns it and sends Bruce a video of it burning.

Too little, too late.

—

Jason comes up to Tim the next morning with a handwritten note. He gives it to him. It says “IOU literally any favor you ever want, as long as it’s not doing the dishes”

Tim laughs and pockets it. He uses it an hour later to get Jason to come and get him the remote from two feet away, even though Jason was across the house. Jason does it. Tim smiles. Jason passed his test. Jason smiles. Tim took the step and was willing to ask.

Damian gives Tim a painting that evening. He’d been working on it for months now, but finished it in a rush that day because it was needed now, not on Tim’s birthday. It’s a portrait of Tim and his team, smiling and laughing. Tim hangs it on the wall in his room with a smile.

That evening, since Alfred is still banished, Steph and Jason cook. Damian and Jason eat at the kitchen counter and serve the other three at the table. After a minute, Tim walks in, grabs their plates silently, and puts them at the end of the table. Not their normal spots, not across from him. But at the table nonetheless. It’s a start.

The only bats on patrol that night are Batman and Spoiler. Gotham newspapers can’t stop reporting on Batman being covered in purple glitter the next day. People keep asking what he did, especially since some reported hearing Spoiler shout “Justice! For Gotham!” as she pelted him with glitter bombs.

Cass returns from her away mission the next day. She breaks into Bruce’s safe house, says “I’m disappointed in you,” and leaves before he can say anything. She tries very hard not to laugh at the glitter still clinging to him as she does it. She comes home, gives Tim a massive hug, and refuses to leave his side for the rest of the day. She also hands him a small journal she’d written. She’d kept observations of when her siblings were having a hard time, and she’s marked instances showing how guilty Jason and Damian were feeling around Tim.

Knowing the apologies were sincere, Tim’s leaning more towards forgiveness. He’s not there yet. Not by a long shot. But he is more sure that they’re genuinely remorseful.

—

Tim goes on a mission with his team two days later. Kon mentions how Jason reached out to him to ask for advice in apologizing to Tim. Not realizing Jason had asked more than just Dinah, Tim smiles. At that, Kon also mentions that Jon said Damian asked him for help too. Knowing how hard asking for help is for Damian, Tim’s soft smile widens further. The others ask what’s up, and Tim tells his team.

Bart hears about the birthday thing and makes Tim a promise. If time travel shenanigans ever happen again, Tim can call Bart and ask him to verify them, and Bart will drop everything to check with the Speed Force. Tim appreciates it, and promises to call.

Cassie promises to punch Bruce the next time she sees him. Tim appreciates the thought but asks her not to.

Bruce receives a call the next day. Superman, Wonder Woman, and Flash have proposed a motion to put Batman on Justice League probation. If he cannot get his act together, he cannot be a league member.

Bruce protests the probation. He sends a message asking to be reinstated as a full member, saying this is a misunderstanding.

Black Canary calls him and verbally rips into him for THIS being the thing that gets him off his ass.

After she hangs up, she puts forward a motion to have other league members take over Batman’s duties training the Gotham crew. They all agree, and Batman is removed as a mentor and emergency contact on League files.

Bruce calls to protest this too, even harder now. The league take turns yelling at him, having heard from their protégés about what happened this week in Gotham. He doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t.

Dick gets assigned Superman as a mentor. Jason is assigned Wonder Woman as a mentor, to his delight. Cass gets Green Arrow to learn how to do distance fighting rather than just her short-range expertise. Tim is assigned to Flash because of his detective work pairing well with CSI work, which he’s okay with.

Damian, meanwhile, is assigned to Black Canary, who offers to train him in social situations rather than combat. He accepts enthusiastically after hearing her plan, telling her that he wishes someone had taught him sooner, saying how maybe he never would’ve lost his brother Tim’s love and trust if he’d had these lessons. He would have considered Tim a brother far sooner too. Tim, who Damian doesn’t realize is in earshot, beams. Damian considers him a brother? He’s never said that to him or around him before.

Their emergency contacts are all each other.

The League doesn’t tell Bruce this, but his reinstatement depends on one thing and one thing only. Forgiveness from his children.

Every. Last. One of them.

—

Soon, Bruce is allowed back into the manor, but none of the kids stay there. They decided they can’t keep him out of the house, but they don’t have to stay there. They also take all of their stuff out of the batcave, relocating it to Tim’s safe house (with his permission).

Alfred, a week after Bruce’s banishment from the League and the day after he returns to the house, arrives at Tim’s doorstep with a box of cookies and an apology. A good, sincere apology.

Tim doesn’t forgive Alfred. But he does accept the cookies. And he does let Alfred drop by to hand over homemade dinners every once in a while.

—

A gala rolls around. Everyone notices that none of Bruce’s kids are there. He claims they’re all busy.

That excuse only works twice before people start asking questions.

At the third gala, Bruce shrugs and says nothing at all, brushing past the question. His kids have all been seen in public, just not with him, so rumors start to fly.

Dick, with his sibling’s permission, goes to a newspaper and gives an interview. He tells the paper that his siblings are all mad at Bruce over family drama and refuse to go to galas until it’s sorted because they didn’t want to harm Bruce’s public image. He’s still a good guy and the charity work he does is still important, Dick says. Bruce just needs to learn how to give proper apologies when he makes mistakes, especially big ones, and all of his kids are trying to teach him that lesson, hence them staying away from galas.

News spreads like wildfire. The city still loves Bruce, of course. But they’re all aware that his parenting skills leave something to be desired. They start talking about the importance of mental health and teaching kids, especially boys, about vulnerability.

Bruce is proud of his city.

But he still hasn’t spoken to his kids.

—

Jason and Damian have gone above and beyond for Tim recently. Being the brothers he always wished they’d be to him. He wishes he’d spoken up sooner. And they tell him that they wish they’d gotten the kick in the pants they’d needed to get their shit together sooner too.

Slowly but surely, he forgives them.

—

Alfred is still on thin ice, but whenever Bruce is out of town, the family will go over to have a nice, Alfred-cooked meal.

—

It’s been three months since Tim spoke up for himself. Bruce still hasn’t said a word to his kids. He’s tried to send Tim gifts occasionally. Tim burns the letters and donates the gifts to charity.

Jason, Damian, Dick, and Cass refuse to speak to Bruce. On patrol, they steer clear of him. Babs warns Tim in comms if Batman is approaching so he can leave if he wants. He always does. The only time they’ve helped him is when he was about to die. Jason stepped in and killed all of the bad guys. He later told Tim that he made sure he was the one to save Bruce because he knew Bruce hated Jason’s methods. Tim cackled at that.

Bruce doesn’t go off the deep end like he did after Jason’s death. He has learned that lesson, after all. But he’s not as efficient alone, especially since Babs won’t help him anymore either unless it’s life or death. He can’t help but miss his gaggle of kids. In trying to keep part of his family close, Bruce lost all of his kids in the process. All because he never learned how to say “I’m sorry.”

—

Six months have passed since Tim spoke up. Everyone in the family is closer. Except for Bruce. He’s still not on the League roster, and they’re doing fine without him; any time they’ve needed him, they call his kids instead. They don’t like involving kids but refuse to let him return for his kids’ sake. He keeps trying to get them ti let him come back. They keep telling him to put that energy towards fixing shit with his kids.

J’onn eventually gets sick of it. He knows from seeing Bruce’s mind how much the man regrets it but also sees how much Bruce struggles with remorse. So he gets Clark to drag Bruce to the Kents. They spend a week teaching him how to parent, to apologize, to own up to his mistakes.

Meanwhile, J’onn shows the Batkids how Bruce feels. Tim isn’t ready to forgive Bruce. Damian is for his grievance with Bruce, because he knows that Bruce couldn’t teach him what he didn’t know how to teach. But he still wishes Bruce had recognized it and gotten help teaching it. But Damian holds out on forgiving Bruce until Tim’s ready for it.

After a week with the Kents, they help him draft an apology. He can’t bring himself to say it. He mails it to Tim instead. Tim sends Bruce a video of him burning the letter, same as always.

Tim’s closer to ready to forgive Bruce. The letter was actually very sweet. But until Bruce can verbalize it, Tim won’t know he’s made enough mental progress to never pull that shit again. So he’s still holding out.

An apology without change is manipulation, after all.

That’s the breaking point for Bruce. He cries to Clark, saying how badly he fucked it up and crying about how much he misses his kids.

Clark lovingly tells him to get his shit together. Not to stop crying, mind you, but to let himself cry more. “Get your shit together and stop trying to hide from your emotions, Bruce,” he says. Bruce decides “fuck it” and asks Dinah for therapy.

—

After a month of therapy, he’s finally capable of it. He goes to Tim and offers a groveling apology. For everything, not just what Tim brought up. Bruce apologizes for his behavior after Jason’s death. He apologizes for letting- no, making Tim feel unsafe in his own home. He apologizes for all of it.

Tim tells Bruce he doesn’t forgive him, but this is a start. Bruce accepts that answer with grace, telling Tim he’ll keep trying to make up for it. That helps Tim forgive him a bit more.

At the next Wayne gala, Tim attends. Bruce nearly cries from joy when he sees Tim walk into the room. “Bruce finally learned how to apologize,” Tim tells the gala attendees who ask with a grin. “I went to therapy,” Bruce responds when people ask how he did it. Tim stays away from Bruce the whole night, but he’s there, and it’s a start. Bruce texts Tim to thank him for attending and for giving him another chance. He celebrates Tim’s appearance in his next therapy appointment. Dinah congratulates him, but there’s still more work to do. Bruce tells her he’s excited to do it. This is what he wants; what he needs.

Gotham’s mental health program gets a lot of funding from the Waynes and everyone starts getting invested in therapy, after people start learning how much it helped their beloved Bruce Wayne.

The following gala, all of Bruce’s kids (including Steph and Babs) are there. Bruce doesn’t even mind when Steph pranks him or Jason glares at him from across the room. They’re there.

—

Tim has forgiven his siblings; they’ve made an effort to make Tim feel like their brother, rather than their target.

Tim has forgiven Alfred; he’s continually apologized to Tim and insisted on helping Tim avoid Bruce until Bruce got his shit together.

Tim’s still working on forgiving Bruce. But the more the man goes to therapy, the more he sees what he did wrong, and the harder he works to fix it. Not just with Tim, but with all of them.

—

One year after Tim yelled at everyone, the family is whole again. They have a dinner with their old seating, and Tim is actually okay with it now. After all, those aren’t his attempted murderers anymore. Those boys have made constant effort to be Tim’s brothers, and they’ve earned that title.

Also, Bruce is allowed back on the JL, and insists on counseling for all of them. The JL agrees, seeing how it helped Batman.

Things may not be perfect. But no person ever doubts their place in the batfamily again, and no one harms another family member without instantly apologizing and making up for it.

They’re a family. Thanks to one little conversation.

"I'm angry at you" Tim forces out.

It's been a long time coming, the words that have been circling his mind for years. Rotting the back of his throat.

Jason is Bruce's son in a way that he will never be. It's just a simple fact.

Maybe he could have picked a different time maybe a family dinner wasn't the place, but he was the one that spent year's of his life having to dodge bullets and murder attempts. He had to spend month's in physical therapy after the tower.

The place he felt safe was ripped away because Jason who is traumatized he hasn't forgot that fact, decided to hunt him down and hurt him.

Maybe Robin isn't a child, but Tim Drake was.

He turns to Bruce who's face is of course blank he's the one who wants Jason here yet not an emotion in sight.

Turns back to look Jason in the eye the man who's sitting next to Damian sometimes he wonders if Alfred does it on purpose a way to remind Tim that his murderers will always have something he doesn't.

He will look him in the eye he will not falter today.

"I was a child, I should have never been the exception to your rule. Say what you will about Robin being something else but you didn't care about Robin you cared it was me"

Silence it's funny how comforting it can be.

"I should not have to sit at the same table as two of my attempted murderers and pretend that it's ok. You are both traumatized I understand that but it will never be an excuse for traumatizing me. I see the Red hood and Robin in my nightmares."

He turns to look at Dick who as always is to the right of him once again pointing to Alfred doing this seating on purpose.

"You are a hypocrite who has never shut up about drying but goes out his way to kill another Robin."

He sees Alfred step forward closer to Bruce he wonders what the point is will he say anything, not likely but why move he almost asks yet if he doesn't finish he never will.

"This was your home first it still is, but I have bled and given more than you will ever know to secure my place here. So Bruce I do not ever want to partnered with either one of them in the field. You or Dick are the only options. You will not argue with me this is me laying my boundaries which I am entitled to."

He stares at Alfred loosing the blank look to let some of the anger out. He wants him to know.

"You will also never again force me to sit at a dinner table across from them again. Whatever British Passive-Aggressive gesture this is. You have no right to do. I will never forgive you for my birthday."

Dick goes to interrupt he doesn't let him.

"Bruce and Alfred have my full permission to discuss the psychological torture they put me through as my birthday present. But from now on none of you get to treat me as if I am some replacement or placeholder. I am a person with feelings, I will not be treated like a doormat."

He makes eye contact with each of them Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian.

Before turning to Dick for the last part.

"You are the only person here who has never deliberately hurt me, your my brother and I love you. I want to spend more time with you and I am specifically requesting that you come with me when I leave this table. We can get dinner or hang out but I need you to leave with me."

----------

Bruce is speechless.

How did he do this, his child is sitting at his table trembling and he can't move.

His child who just spent ten minutes defending himself and he is doing nothing.

Dick interrupts what he can admit is a pity party.

"Your my brother, I will happily follow you to the ends of the earth and if we leave now we can go to the Thai place that you like."

He can't let them leave he has to say something.

Tell Tim that he loves him, that he can fix this that this isn't the end. That it matters but before he can there gone.

His boys leave.

His precious sons, one loyal to a fault and one hurt beyond measure and what did he do nothing.

What he always does nothing.