#are they going to continue with this conversion at some point or what?

[hexescore]

oh and by the way, i love you.

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, sevika, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: first 'i love you's with (character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. pre-established relationship (caitlyn, jinx, mel, viktor). friends-to-lovers (ekko, jayce, sevika, vi).

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

It's quiet, the early morning blessing you both with a peaceful silence that allows you two to truly appreciate the sight in front of you— each other. Caitlyn enjoys moments like this, waking up with you, getting to see the way the rising sun filters through her curtains to cast a golden glow across your skin.

Her hand, which is in yours, gives a gentle squeeze. You give her a sleepy smile, and she chuckles as she leans in to press a quick peck to your lips, and then another, and another, before you're both shuffling together, closer. Legs and arms entangled, a slowness in you both knowing that neither of you have to leave anytime soon.

"You know," She whispers, her eyes shut. She had imagined how she'd say this a million times, wondered when it'd be the right time, but Caitlyn quickly realizes that perhaps the right time is the time she makes to say it. So she makes the time. "I love you."

Your heart skips a beat, and you pull away to look at her. Her eyes open, and you can see the panic flashing in her eyes- was it too soon? did she get confused? had she-

"I love you, too." Her tense form immediately relaxes again, and she buries her head into your neck, shaking her head as she lets out a breathless laugh. You laugh along with her, both of you feeling nerves and excitement at those words.

"Don't scare me like that," she whines against your skin. Indulging this rare side of Caitlyn, you gently pat her back, cooing at her.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry, won't happen again." You'll definitely respond faster next time!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

EKKO

Ekko had been acting quite strange as of late, and had you been any less keen you'd just assume he was busy- but this was different, he was most definitely avoiding you! Which is why you devised a plan to corner him and get to the bottom of this whole situation.

It was like any other day, except you had been lying in wait. Waiting, and waiting, until he was finally alone. You continued to follow him to a secluded area. "Ekko." He tensed up, but recovered quickly as he turned to glance at you.

"Oh, uh, hey, what's up?" Was he serious? You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a pointed look. Ekko's guilty conscious is clear as day when it comes to you, from the way his Adam's apple bobs to the way his fist clench and unclench. You frown.

"Ekko..." He doesn't say anything. "Alright, I'll ask it. Why have you been avoiding me?" He falters, looking ashamed. He knew it was wrong to avoid you, but when he came to realize how intense his emotions were for you it freaked him out. He hadn't... He didn't mean to... well, fall in love, during such a time.

The silence is heavy, and you debate just leaving, before Ekko clears his throat. "There are things that I've been meaning to tell ya... I'm just having a hard time finding the words..." He scratches the back of his neck.

"Like?" You press, needing to know what has been so hard to say that he's been avoiding you.

"Like... I love you?"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JAYCE TALIS

"Jayce? What are you doing?" Jayce, with his hand respectfully on your lower back, guides you away from the boring and artificial conversations of Piltover's finest. He excuses you both, much to your dismay. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere private," He says through a tense smile. You soon find yourself down the hall, away from the party but still able to hear it's chatter. It seems Jayce hadn't prepared for what comes after he got you away from those flirty elites.

"Well?" You ask, head tilted in a questioning way. "Are you going to explain why you so rudely pulled me away? I was about to get some nice funding for your-" Jayce cuts you off, desperation rolling off of him in waves.

"Because I love you," He says, "And I can't stand to see them look at you, touch you-" He stops to take a deep breath before he gets himself too worked up. "Look, I know... I know you probably don't feel the same, and I understand if you don't, but-"

"Jayce," You call once, and like an obedient dog he stops everything he's doing. Instead he waits, hanging on to your words. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you pull him into a kiss. It's needy, filled with want and love and passion. Until you can't breath, you wait until you can't breathe to pull away, and look him in the eyes.

"I love you."

For the first time that night, Jayce's lips curl into a genuine smile. It's so bright and warm you get weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach.

"Can we ditch the party now?"

"Oh definitely."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JINX

"Wrench!" Jinx calls dramatically, hand stuck out and awaiting her tool- which you promptly hand to her, repeating her words 'wrench.' She giggles as she grasps the wrench and twists a few bolts on her latest invention.

When she finishes, she takes in inhale of breath, ready to shout the next tool she needs, but already in her hand is a can of spray paint. She blinks a few times- how did you know? She grins, looking back at you, before looking at the can of spray paint.

"This is why I love you, ya know that?" She says, not really processing the words until you say them back to her.

"You... You love me?" The shock is evident in your voice. It's not that Jinx hasn't shown her love, her affections, for you, but this is the first time she's vocalized them and it has your heart hammering in your chest. She blinks a few times, lifting her goggles to rest on top her head.

"I did say that, didn't I?" She says, more to herself than to you. She then looks you in the eyes, that sparkle in them has your throat tightening up. "Yeah, I love you." You try to speak, truly, but you can't get a word out. "Jeez, is it that surprising, thought it was obvious?"

"No, it's just-" You finally manage to speak. Actually, you finally manage to get a good look at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed, she's fiddling with her tools, she's nervous- she's vulnerable- and you feel a protective instinct come on. "I love you, too- I really, really love you."

She laughs nervously, turning away from you. That's enough emotional vulnerability she's willing to share today. "Yeah, yeah, let's not get too mushy, 'kay?" You don't push it, instead nodding along. "Uh, anyways... Hand me that wrench again...!"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

MEL MEDARDA

"You don't have to say it back," Mel Medarda has always been diplomatic, even in your relationship. She's also always been rather guarded, keeping all her cards close to her chest- but she allows you from time-to-time to catch a peak behind her walls. "I just wanted to let you know. I... I love you."

Undoubtedly, you love her back. You've loved her from the moment she smiled at you- Mel was hard not to love. Which is why you're having a hard time responding, because how could you even possibly begin to explain just how much you love her?

Mel begins to grow withdrawn, those small anxieties nipping away at her mind. Did you not feel the same way? Had she embarrassed herself with her little display? Did she ruin this relationship in one phrase? She takes a step away from you, wondering if she should take her leave.

Thankfully before than can happen, you've caught her wrist and meet her eyes.

"I love you, too." A breath of relief leaves you both. "Mel, I... I can't even begin to explain, I mean, it's just that you... god, you, you definitely deserve a better response than this mess but, I mean it, truly. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I'll always- I'll always love you."

"Darling..." Mel started to feel flustered, your earnest rambling getting her cool and collected persona to crack a little. "I get it."

"Right, sorr-" Before you can apologize for your cute, anxious rambling, Mel shuts you up with a kiss. Something that symbolizes that you both understand just how much you both mean to each other.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

SEVIKA

Sevika can't help but crack a smile at your antics sometimes. She's watching you with a close eye as you dance in an exaggerated way, being goofy in a way that's so very rare in the undercity. She shakes her head as you sit in the seat across from her, wiggling your brows. "Dance with me?"

"Not a chance in hell." She snorts, "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me." Sevika takes a drink, not noticing what she said. You, on the other hand, have gone still. "What's wrong with you now?" She asks, already exasperated.

"You love me?"

"What're you-... Shit." She definitely didn't mean to say that, but now that it's out there, she might as well commit. She downs the rest of her drink, clears her throat, and looks away from you.

"And if I do? Would that be a problem?"

"Not at all- I love you, too!" Your enthusiasm has her taken aback once more. She looks at you incredulously, searching your face for any sign of lying or messing with her. She finds nothing but genuine love. Shit, shit, shit. Sevika was so totally unsure on how to handle this.

"You love me, huh?" When you nod, eagerly, Sevika bites her cheek. Well... She supposes if it's you, she could try and give it a shot. "I guess, yeah, I do love you... so... what're we gonna do about that?"

You had a few ideas.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VIKTOR

"Yes, yes, I understand." Viktor says as he wraps the scarf you gifted him around his neck. "I'll be back tonight for dinner, not to worry." You don't really believe him when he says that, still you help him zip up his winter coat.

"If you're not," You say, taking a step closer, your lips hovering over his. "I'll personally drag you back here." Your lips meet his and he hums into the kiss, pulling away with a small smile.

"I'll be here." You just hum dismissively. You'll believe when you see it. He rolls his eyes at your sass, opening the door and stepping out. "Alright, I'll see you then. Goodbye, I love you." He closes the door, and just as quickly he's trying to pry it back open.

You're laughing your ass off on the other side of the door whilst Viktor's ears turn red. "Dear, please, open the door, I forgot my keys... and I need to say those words properly..." he groans, his head resting against the door. After a few seconds, the clicks unlock and it opens to reveal you, tears in your eyes from laughing.

"This is not funny."

"It's a little funny." You tease, handing Viktor his keys. "I lov-"

"Wait," He halts you. "Let me... Let me say it properly." His blush moves from his ears to his cheeks. He takes your hand and presses a sweet kiss to it, looking up at you through his lashes. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Viktor."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VI

You're patching her up after a particularly brutal beating. Her job, these missions, can get pretty violent, and it's always up to you to heal her wounds. 'I don't trust any other doctor,' she explains before you inform her that you are not a doctor. Despite that she still finds you after every fight she gets herself in.

You sigh, cleaning a nasty cut on her face. "You've got to be more careful." You tsk, reveling in the way she hisses at the disinfectant. It's what she deserves after scaring you to death all these times.

"Worried 'bout my pretty face?" You scoff, rolling your eyes at her.

"More like your brain- I'm afraid you can't afford to lose anymore braincells." She laughs at your snark. She likes that about you, likes everything about you, actually. Her hands find your waist, pulling you closer to her. You huff, pulling back to get a better look at her wounds.

"Hey," Vi calls, and you just hum in response. "I love you." You freeze, before looking down at her with wide eyes.

"Did you actually get brain damage-" She bites back another laugh, shaking her head. "Vi...?"

"I love you. Have for a while, so no, this isn't a brain damage confession." Oh. You falter for a second, hands shaky as you finish placing the band-aid on her cheek.

"If you're messing with me-"

"I'm not." She insists, earnest in her affections. "So... Do you-"

"Yes." You mumble, turning your face to hide it from her. "I... Love you, too, Violet."

[wtfaniii]

I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 // Part 2

•Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between

•Note: Thanks for the support! Here I bring you the second part of this one shot that is personally one of my favorites.

•Warning: Maybe some drama, Some violence and attempted abuse, ¡Don't worry! this man arrives on time like a prince on a white horse

N/A: I haven't checked this yet, sorry if it has spelling mistakes

Gi-hun had told some participants that the next game would be dalgona, but it was not so and now they were upset with him, surrounding him and complaining about his mistake, calling him a "liar."

—You guys decided to play these games —the girl said standing in front of Gi-hun —Face the consequences and don't expect someone to come and save us.

—He's a fraud! —Player 100 shouted at him, pointing at accusingly and with contempt.

—ibelieve in him word —001 interrupted, standing next to her.

Due to the first impression that the two made on all the players, the complaints immediately stopped and retreated.

—It's nothing, I really believe you —Young-il said with a friendly expression

—And if you allow me... I would like to be on your team.

The next game would be in teams of five players, counting the girl, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho and now Young-il, they were full, however, when they were talking to get to know each other a little, a woman with the number 222 on his uniform approached them cautiously.

—¿Can I be on your team? Please —Jung-bae was going to interrupt her to tell that they were full but the young woman finished his sentence first —I'm pregnant.

The five pairs of eyes fell on the small bulge of her belly and noticed that it was true. Immediately, the woman spoke. —I'll look for another team.

—¿Are you sure you'll do it?— In-ho asked, looking at her carefully. A person who looked out for someone else's well-being in these games was rare to see, but considering the situation, it was quite understandable. He wouldn't give up his place if he wasn't so interested in his enemy.

She nodded confidently and left to find another team, it didn't take long, after all, most people took advantage of having someone like her on their team just by considering the word "police" in their introduction.

Once the teams were formed and they were told what had to do, they sat on the floor to wait the turn.

As time passed and gunshots mixed with screams sounded in the background, the young woman thought silently.

¿Will Jun-ho be okay? She really hoped so, she had known him for four years and knew that there were times when he could go to extremes to get what wanted.

It was something she loved about him but right now just worried about.

—¿What game are you going to play? —246 asked sitting next to her, momentarily taking her out of his thoughts.

—Gonggi —answered immediately, she was very good at that game, it had been his favorite since she was a child.

The others nodded and continued talking, she didn't go there with the intention of socializing too much.

For starters.

She was only there because Jun-ho had asked her to.

Jun-ho...

She just hoped him could find her and Gi-hun in time.

The policeman had no intention of stopping now, even without having the tracker active and with the fact that apparently someone was sabotaging them from inside, he was not going to stop searching.

The woman he loved was in those games, that wasn't going to be the plan, she was only supposed to be Gi-hun's bodyguard but things didn't go as planned.

—I think we should stop, it's almost time to eat and we're a bit far from the shore.

—We can't be so close now —he said, somewhat irritated and helpless. —Every minute they spend on that island is a danger.

He felt guilty for having dragged her into his own problems.

He remembered the last conversation he had with her before he lost sight of her.

[...]

—We are police officers —Jun-ho said, showing his badge to the guard who was guarding the entrance of the place

—Just like everyone else tonight —the man said with a mocking laugh, pointing at the long line waiting to get into the Halloween party.

Jun-ho didn't have enough patience to tolerate this, so with no other choice he went up to the man and took his gun out of his pocket.

—¿Do you want to see if this is a toy?

The guard stepped back in fear, giving them free passage.

The girl smiled proudly and waved her hand as if it were hot while sighed.

—That's my man —she boasted to the guard as they crossed the entrance. Jun-ho managed to hear her and inevitably a sly smile appeared on his lips.

—We have to find him before they do —he said, referring to Gi-hun searching the crowd but no masked pink guard was visible.

—It will be faster if we separate —she added, taking out her weapon and pointing it at the ground just to be ready in case used it —When we leave here it will be fondue night —she said without losing her charming touch.

It was something they both shared, despite being in tense situations like this, comments like that were never lacking, especially from the girl and that was something Jun-ho adored, her daring was part of what made the policeman fall in love with her.

—Maybe I should drag you into my problems more often —He replied with a smile and separated from her.

The girl was the first to find Gi-hun and surprisingly they let her get into the limo with him.

Jun-ho was unhappy about that but he couldn't change her mind and just when they thought they could intercept the front man of those suicide games they were forced to make a last-minute decision by shooting at the tires of the cars.

[...]

His stomach turned just remembering what people go through inside those games, he trusted that she could survive but the odds of not making him tremble and want to vomit.

—Okay... we'll call off the search —He relented after a few minutes.

He looked up at the sky and asked whoever would listen him to keep the woman he loves alive.

Meanwhile on the island, they had managed to get through the second game alive, she was sitting with Gi-hun's team silently watching around them when 001 sat next to her.

—Hi... —he greeted her with a soft smile, hoping that the mask being Young-il was convincing enough to fool her —I'm curious... if you're a police officer, ¿how did you end up here?

—¿Debts? —She replied with a false smile —My job was to take care of Mr. Seong but it didn't turn out the way I had in mind —she admitted, looking away again but feeling Young-il's intense gaze on her.

—So... ¿you're here as an undercover agent? —he asked, feigning surprise and curiosity.

He himself was the one who gave the order to allow her to also get into the limousine to accompany Gi-hun.

In-ho knew his brother would be worried about her, searching for her relentlessly, but it was inevitable, he needed to meet her in person and be sure how good of an influence she was on Jun-ho.

Or at least he thought it was a good excuse.

—Yeah... —She looked at him silently and attentively when she noticed a certain peculiarity in him appearance —¿Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I've seen you before...

Him face seemed familiar but she couldn't figure out why. In-ho kept eye contact with her, waiting for her answer.

It was a pity, if she recognize it him had no other option to let her die in the next games but luckily for the girl she denied it.

—Forget it, I'm just stressed ¿And why are you here?

—My wife is sick and pregnant.

She looked at him with pity as he told her his story, it wasn't a lie, it was just that it happened years ago and he couldn't do anything to keep her alive.

—I'm sorry —The girl said after he finished his words.—I promise we'll get out of here and I'll help you as much as I can with the expenses.

The police had money, not to say that she was a millionaire but she lived in a good social status, she was willing to help him only because her heart was softened by him story.

–You barely know me, ¿why would you do that?

—My boyfriend has also had a somewhat hard life and I took this job for a reason, to help others.

She did not consider herself a saint, but if she had the opportunity to do something good for other people, she would do it regardless of the consequences.

—Also... I think I'm pregnant —She said with a small smile.

How chaotic and unfair could fate be that just one night before she was to go to the medical laboratory for her results, she was taken to those games against will.

On the other hand, she could also feel a slight connection with this stranger, which was why she revealed that to him so naturally, but she still didn't know exactly why.

—I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.

He nodded and watched her leave but his eyes also noticed three other suspicious looking players who followed her into the bathroom.

Without thinking twice he also stood up.

Not even two minutes had passed since she entered the bathroom when a woman grabbed her by the collar of the jacket and threw her backwards, making her fall on back.

–¿You remember me? —the woman demanded, looking at her with disdain and annoyance

—No —She answered standing up.

—You threw my husband into prison and won't be out for another twenty years —The woman pulled out a small pocket knife and another woman stood behind the police girl to hold her —I thought about how to kill you for days.

—Very cute, I still don't know who you are.

Those words only made the woman even more furious as lunged at her and tried to stab her,

Her hard training served her well in this unarmed fight.

But she was counting on another man to come in to help the two players who were trying to kill the young policewoman.

—Three against one unarmed is not fair... —she gasped for air as saw that he had a small opening in his head, her had hit himself on the sink at one point during the fight.

—¡It was also not fair that my husband was sentenced to twenty years in prison for attempted abuse!

—Oh, believe me, I tried to make it forty.

A kick to the face from one of them managed to stun her long enough to give them time to pin her down on the cold, damp bathroom floor.

She couldn't hear clearly what they were saying but when she saw how the man placed himself on top of her, their intentions were quite clear.

She didn't have enough strength to continue defending himself, her felt bleeding from his leg from the knife and the cut on his head hurt, but like a hero coming to save the day, Young-il walked through the door and shouted "Hey!"

That small interruption was enough for her to hit the man in the genitals with her knee, making him move away and moan in pain.

She was too stunned to see what was happening, but before she knew it, he had her in him arms and walked out of the bathroom leaving the two women unconscious on the floor and the man with a bleeding nose.

—¡You should do a better job as guards! —he yelled at the two pink soldiers guarding the door, she didn't know it but that scolding was enough to fire those two.

He carefully led her to the men's room where, due to his front man advantages, he was able to have a guard deny another player access until he said so.

—Thanks... —Her murmured as he dropped her on the ground—But I had it under control.

She let out a giggle that made his ribs hurt, In-ho refrained from laughing, now he had to focus on fixing her wounds.

—Being a police officer you made many enemies —He said while using his jacket with some water to clean her.

—You have no idea.

In-ho continued to clean her wounds and after a few minutes everything was better for her, the girl stood up cautiously because of the wound on her leg and thanked Young-il with a small bow.

—Thanks for helping me, for the second time.

—I hope it doesn't become routine —he said with a soft smile, looking her up and down unconsciously.

When they came out of the bathroom there were suspicious glances but neither of them cared.

It was cute, she liked the way this man treated whenever her found himself in trouble, in a way he reminded her of Jun-ho,

She liked that even though she could defend herself, there was still a knight in shining armor who would arrive in the worst situations.

Young-il, the gentleman who arrived just in time and the only one who knew about her suspected pregnancy.

tag list:

@raya4643 @lvspedri @iloveoldermen0204 @ravenslocked

[robynhoodwrites]

˚｡❆ Rivals to Lovers ˚｡❆

Request: "Can I request a rivals to lovers fic (with smut if you will) about Zayne and MC where they live in a normal world, and they're both in med school?"

This will be written from the reader (aka the MC's) point of view. The MC will be AFAB, but will be referred to with they/them pronouns.

Minors DNI! This writing contains the following: smut, vaginal penetration, medical discussions, blood (in a medical setting), rivals to lovers, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, fellatio, switch!Zayne and switch!reader.

My heels clack loudly against the clean, tiled floors of the hospital. The sound echoes down the hallway, and I cringe internally at the fact that I’m practically announcing my presence. I hear a yawn sound from one of the receptionists behind me, hoping that the coffee now coursing through me is enough to keep me awake.

“Morning!” One of the nurses, Tara, smiles at me. She stops where she’s walking, seemingly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t have time right now!” I breathe, my heart pounding as I pick up the pace. She frowns slightly, her chest deflating. “We can meet for lunch later! Promise!” I yell behind me, and she just laughs and continues walking to where she’s going.

This meeting isn’t necessarily important, but I haven’t earned the title “overachiever” for nothing. If I make it earlier than everyone else, it shows initiative. And initiative means I’m better than the others, which means I get the internship, which means I get a good job in the future, which means-

I’m almost at the door when I notice Zayne across the hallway. We had been in the same medical program for the last year, but only recently has he become such a pain in my ass. It seemed like no matter what grade I got, he matched it (or, God forbid, his was higher). It had become somewhat of an unspoken competition between us to see who would end up on top.

He seems to notice me, his eyes meeting mine from the other side of the hall. He looks at the door and then back at me before speeding up, his eyes now sporting a determined glare. I do the same, the clacking of my heels reaching insane speeds.

Even with the newfound speed, I am nowhere as fast as Zayne. Screw these stupid heels and Zayne’s long ass legs. I’m right behind him when he throws open the door, letting it start to close behind him as he enters the conference room before me.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” I mutter, and he seems to hear me, chuckling to himself.

“Zayne, nice to see you here bright and early,” our boss, Dr. Jenna says. Her eyes then flick to me, smiling. “Oh, and good to see you here early, too. You two have some real initiative.”

I silently thank the universe that coming in second has not put a blot on my record. It’s then that Zayne puts down his backpack, producing a coffee from the cupholder sewn to the side of it. “You like the cold brew, right?” he asks, handing her the coffee.

“Aw, Zayne, you shouldn’t have!” Jenna smiles, grabbing the drink from his hand and taking a sip with a content look on her face. Fuck, that’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Of course, Doctor Jenna. I cannot imagine how tired you must be, considering the fact that you’re working and taking the time to teach us. I don’t know how you do it,” Zayne gushes, and Jenna just smiles wider and thanks him before going back to writing on the whiteboard.

Zayne turns back to where I am standing, a stupid smirk lining his face. He sticks up two hands, one making the shape of a “zero” and the other creating a “one”.

Zayne: 1. Me: 0.

He winks as he goes to sit in his spot in the front row. Other students finally begin filing in, and I rush to take my spot in the front next to Zayne. “Really laying it on thick, huh?” I mutter, and he chuckles again.

“Maybe if you did the same, you wouldn’t be losing,” he whispers back, reclining in his chair nonchalantly.

“I don’t need to kiss ass. My superior doctoring skills will get me that internship,” I tease, mockingly reclining like him. He shows no sign that he’s noticed, instead deciding to unpack his notebook and pencil from his backpack.

“The points are saying otherwise,” he responds, opening his notebook to a fresh page. He writes down our names at the top of the page, putting a tally mark next to his own.

“That’s what this is to you? A game?” I ask, huffing out a breath of frustration. “There are 5 spots for the internship. We can both get it! There’s no need to fight me for it.” I am thoroughly enjoying the competition, but it’s not as fun when I’m the one that’s losing.

“I am not going to settle for mediocrity. I want to get chosen for the internship not just because she wants me there, but because she needs me there,” he tells me, stating it like it’s a fact. I suppose I understand that, but I am never going to let him hear me admit that.

“Where did this vanity come from, Zayne? I swear, you seemed so docile when I met you last year,” I tease. Rather than answer me, he looks down at the paper in front of him. “Or do you only act vain when you’re threatened? Am I a threat to you, Zayne?”

He doesn't respond. In fact, he acts like he hasn't heard me. Instead, he sticks out his hand, seeming to be asking for a handshake. “May the best doctor win,” he says confidently, and I grasp his hand firmly. It’s strangely warm, his long fingers holding my own tightly.

“I will,” I say back, letting go of his hand and turning to face the board. Before he can say something in retaliation, Doctor Jenna clears her throat and the class goes silent.

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By the last 10 minutes of class, I’ve nearly filled three pages with notes, front and back. The notes are nowhere near clean or pretty looking, but they’ll work for when I’m studying later. Dr. Jenna has started reviewing some of the information from the last class, which means I can zone out for a moment and let my brain take a break.

I spin my pen in my fingers, my eyes blurred as I think about absolutely nothing for the first time in a while. The peace doesn’t last, though. I hear a small rustle in front of me and look down to see a folded sheet of notebook paper.

I turn to look at Zayne, the most likely suspect. However, he’s looking straight ahead at the board in a focused manner, his eyes not meeting mine. I look back down at the paper curiously, finally relenting and unfolding it in front of me.

The paper has a messy stick figure drawing on the top, showing a tall man with dark hair and glasses holding a trophy. It’s nowhere near artist quality, but something about it makes me chuckle. I glance over at Zayne, who can’t help the smile now spreading across his face.

I click open my pen, drawing my own stick figure masterpiece under his. I surround his drawing with a thought bubble before drawing a picture of Zayne sleeping soundly underneath. Under his sleeping stick figure, I write “In your dreams!” before folding the paper neatly and handing it back to him.

He hesitates for a moment, waiting until Jenna’s back is turned before carefully unfolding the drawing. He snorts, covering his mouth with his hand quickly. I just keep looking forward at the whiteboard, listening to him hastily scribble on the paper before sliding it back to me.

I roll my eyes, unfolding the paper yet again. Zayne’s familiar, neat writing lines the page underneath my drawing. “You’re one to talk about dreams. What are you daydreaming about over there while Dr. Jenna teaches?”

He noticed that?  I feel a weird flutter in my chest, but I push it down as I write my own message underneath his. “Just plotting my victory,” I write, checking to make sure Jenna’s back is turned before handing it to him.

A moment passes before the note lands back on my desk, the paper filled with more of Zayne’s neat, looping letters. “If you spend all class thinking about how to beat me, you’ll never pass your tests.”

I write back quickly, my messy scrawl in stark contrast to Zayne’s clear writing. “And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship.” I pass the note back to Zayne, keeping my eyes glued to the board as he takes in a sharp breath. He hesitates, slowly writing his next response before going to pass it back to me.

“Zayne, no passing notes in class. Put it away,” Jenna snaps, and I see Zayne’s face go pale. He crumples up the note, throwing it into his backpack. He mutters an apology under his breath, his pale face now growing a deep shade of red.

“Yeah, Zayne, I’m trying to learn,” I say, loud enough for Jenna to hear. She nods, throwing Zayne another sharp look before turning back to the board. Zayne shoots me a glare, his jaw clenched in annoyance. I wink at him, before shooting a quick glance at the board to see if Jenna is looking.

When her back is turned, I lean in closer to him, delighting in the quick breath he sucks in. I bring my pen to the top of his paper, adding a point under my name. “One to one,” I whisper, before leaning back and letting my focus return to the board.

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I yawn as I put some quarters into the vending machine, watching as it shoots an energy drink down towards the bottom. I grab it, quickly opening it and gulping down as much as I can. It was nearly the end of my shift, and a long day of shadowing doctors has left an ache in my feet and a pain in my back. I can’t wait to go home and sleep…

“Hey,” I hear a familiar voice say from behind me, and I turn to see Zayne standing impatiently behind me. I gulp, pulling the energy drink away from my mouth and thinking of what to say to the intimidating man in front of me.

 In class, he is just like any other student. But, when working in the clinic, he’s… different. His lab coat perfectly frames his tall figure, his glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. He’s always sitting when he's in class, but during clinic duty, he towers over me.

“Listen, I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus. I didn’t-” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I’m not here about that. Well played, by the way,” he admits, and I feel that flutter in my chest again. “Jenna wants us in her office. Wants our opinion on something before we clock out.”

I nod, unable to stop a relieved breath from leaving my lungs. I chug down the rest of my energy drink, crushing the can in my hands before throwing it away. He chuckles and turns to walk towards the office. I follow close behind, not too keen on letting him beat me to something again.

When we finally reach the office, he pauses a moment before going in. Then, much to my surprise, he holds the door open for me. I just stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly gain from this.

“It’s not a trick,” he says reassuringly. “I just want to be a bit kind to you before I wipe the floor with you in this consult.” There it is. I stick out my tongue at him, not caring how childish I look. He shakes his head as I walk past him, muttering something about good sportsmanship.

Jenna is waiting for us in her office, a whiteboard standing on stilts in front of her as she chews on the end of her pen. When we enter, she turns to us with a smile on her face. A few more students pile in behind us and Jenna begins writing on the whiteboard.

“Alright, students. We had a patient come in with a hurt leg. She presents with hypersensitivity to touch as well as tendonitis and high calcium,” Jenna explains, writing the symptoms on the whiteboard in front of her. She pauses, turning back around to face us. “What do we do?”

“It could be an adenoma,” Zayne offers, and I curse myself for not being quick enough.

“That’s true, but it could be a multitude of things. Maybe kidney problems or a vitamin D intoxication?” I offer, and Jenna writes all of our suggestions down on the whiteboard.

“True, but I think the adenoma is still the best option. If not that, it could also be hyperthyroidism,” Zayne shoots back, and Jenna writes hyperthyroidism on the board. I begin to hit him with another response, but Jenna interrupts before I can.

“I believe an adenoma is the most likely cause. Good work, Dr. Zayne. What should we do with this information?” Jenna asks us, and I nearly punch Zayne when he speaks before I can.

“We’ll have to test her blood for PTH, phosphorus, and ionized calcium.”

“Very good, Zayne,” Jenna says, before turning to me. “And if those tests come back normal, we’ll start on your theory. Good work to you both,” she says, circling “adenoma” on the whiteboard. Zayne shoots me a sly smile, now holding up a two on one hand and a one on the other. I flip him off, and he chuckles to himself.

“Since the labs are closed for the night, they’ll have to process the blood in the morning. I’ll page you guys as soon as I get the results,” Jenna says, waving a hand to dismiss us. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

We all file out of the office, and I pause in the hallway for a moment. If I test the blood tonight, it will get her the results faster. And, more importantly, it will make me look amazing…

I turn down the hallway, my heels clacking against the tiled floors once again as I quickly make my way down to the lab. I scan my card against the door, sighing in relief when I notice that the lab is empty. I throw my backpack down on a chair, hurrying to the refrigerator at the back of the room and quickly scanning for the right vial.

The door swings open behind me, somebody else rushing in before pausing in shock. “Shit!” The voice mutters, and I turn to find Zayne in front of me, his eyes narrowed. “I should’ve known you would have the same idea,” he seethes, and I smile at the annoyed look on his face. He throws his backpack down, his notebook and a few papers spilling out onto the ground as he moves closer to me.

“You may have had the same idea, but I came up with it first,” I tell him, clutching the vial of blood in my hands. I turn and close the door to the fridge and when I turn back around, Zayne is much closer than before. I attempt to move away, but he blocks me in with his arms.

“Give me the vial,” he practically orders, and I can’t help but scoff at him.

“Wow, you really are a sore loser. Whatever happened to ‘may the best doctor win’?” I ask, and he doesn’t react. Rather than relent, he just sits there with his arms trapping me against the refrigerator. “Zayne?” I ask, now breathing a bit heavily under the man's piercing gaze.

In a moment of courage I did not know I possessed, I lean forward on my tiptoes until my mouth is next to his ear. “You lost this round. Let it go,” I whisper, and I swear he isn’t breathing as I lower myself back to my original position. He stays for a moment longer before finally letting his arms fall to rest at his sides.

I exhale a breath that I didn’t know I was holding, finally relaxing my tense shoulders. Zayne walks over to one of the counters, quickly putting on gloves before walking over to the machine sitting in the corner.

“Zayne, what are you doing?” I ask, and he doesn’t look up as he begins removing tools from the drawer next to him.

“Oh, just cleaning the centrifuge. It’s been a while since anyone has really given it a good scrub down.”

I pause, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from cursing him out. “Zayne, that’s the machine I need to use,” I say through gritted teeth. Zayne looks up at me from where he is disassembling the machine, false shock covering his face.

“Oh, is it? What a shame. Looks like you’ll have to do those tests tomorrow, instead.” He goes back to disassembling the centrifuge, a small (and annoying) smile now spreading across his face.

“You absolutely childish-” I begin, stopping to take a breath before I say something worse. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples as I let my temper cool. “We’ll do the tests together. Share the credit. Is that good enough for you?” I groan, and he stops what he’s doing to face me.

“That’s an incredible idea. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” he says mockingly, and I nearly spit on him out of anger. This manipulative, conniving… He starts putting the machine back together, and I walk over to where he is standing to put the vial on a stand next to him.

“This is so incredibly unfair,” I whine, and he chuckles to himself. He turns to face me yet again, his eyes staring daggers into me from only inches away.

“You started this when you threw me under the bus in class, you know.” I suppose I deserve that. He finishes reassembling the machine, putting the vial in and pressing a button on the front. The centrifuge starts with a beep, and the blood begins spinning in its vial.

 I don’t say anything, moving away from him to grab some supplies from the cabinet above me. My attempt to reach the pipettes on the top shelf is in vain, and I stand on my tiptoes as I try to reach it. I hop slightly, barely reaching the corner of the box and coming back down empty-handed.

Zayne moves next to me, reaching up with ease and grabbing the box. He grabs a pipette and returns the box, holding the pipette out in his hands for me to take. Before I can touch it, he grabs my wrist tightly. I gasp, and he drops my arm almost instantly. Damn… wait, why did I enjoy that?  I push these strange feelings down, instead looking up at him inquisitively.

“Gloves,” he explains, and I curse under my breath. “You’ve been in this program for two years, yet you forget something as simple as gloves.”

“I was a bit distracted, Zayne. It’s not every day I am cornered in the lab by another doctor,” I say, and he smiles as he throws me a box of gloves.

“If I don’t keep you on your toes, then this competition will be boring. If I’m going to win so easily, I might as well have a bit of fun.” He turns back to the centrifuge, which has now stopped spinning.

“Prick,” I mutter, and he chuckles as he pulls the vial from the machine. He hands me the vial and the pipette before grabbing the microscope down from the cabinets above us. I carefully pipe out a few drops of blood before handing him the vial to put in the next machine.

I drop the blood onto a slide, placing it under the microscope before peering into it. I start to adjust the settings, the blood coming into focus as I turn each knob. I feel warm breath on my neck and flinch slightly at the sudden intrusion. I didn’t even hear him walk over here.

“Well?” He asks, his voice soft as his breath continues to dance across the skin of my neck. I don’t respond, the fluttering in my chest getting worse. Any attempt to pay attention to the blood in front of me is abandoned, my attention instead drawn to the warm presence looming behind me.

“Let me look,” he mutters, and I move out of the way quickly to let him peer into the microscope. I exhale a shaky breath, steadying myself against the counter. Why did that affect me the way that it did?

Zayne hums under his breath, moving the dials on the side of the microscope with intense focus. “Grab me my notebook, will you?” He asks, and I mutter something about not being his servant before turning around and doing exactly what he asked.

His backpack, having been thrown in his rush to beat me, is lying on the floor. His notebook is on the ground, as well as several papers that had come flying out during the landing. I bend down to pick them all up, my eyes catching on a crumpled ball of paper lying near his notebook. Is that…?

I quickly unravel the paper ball, staring blankly as I realize what it is. Our notes from class. My eyes scan over the paper, smiling to myself as I think about my victory over him in that class period. My eyes reach the bottom of the paper, realizing that I never got to read the final thing he wrote to me.

“And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship,” my messy writing reads. His beautiful, loopy letters are lined underneath it, and I gasp as I finally process the words.

“How could I not spend the class staring at you? You’re so beautiful when you’re lost in thought.”

That now-familiar fluttering returns to my chest, this time with a thundering rhythm. I somehow feel both excited and nauseous at the same time, my head swirling with so many emotions. I definitely like him, don’t I?

I gulp down some air before picking up his notebook, letting our notes sit on the top as I walk nervously over to where he is standing. His eyes are still on the blood, but he lifts his head as he hears me approaching. I hand him the notebook, our notes being the first thing he sees as he looks down.

He pauses, his breath seemingly caught in his throat. “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask, and he looks back up to me with wide eyes. “Or are you just saying that to ‘keep me on my toes’?” I ask, and he pauses for a moment before responding.

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” I feel a warmth spread across my cheeks, and I pray that I’m not blushing as much as I think I am. I push the notebook into his arms, not saying anything as I turn back to the microscope.

I attempt to keep my focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the rampant pounding of my heart. Zayne drops the notebook onto the table next to us, his breath now resuming its place on the back of my neck. I can’t help but lean into his warmth, and he puts his arms on either side of me to rest on the counter.

“What do you see?” He asks, his voice husky in my ear. I try to focus, not wanting to let him know how much control he has over me. If he knows how affected I am, he’ll win. I inhale a shaky breath, bringing my eyes down to the blood in front of me.

“I-it looks… normal. To me, at least,” I mutter, and he moves back a bit so that I can turn around and face him. His sharp gaze never leaves my face, glancing slowly from my eyes to my lips.

“I noticed that, too. Looks like you might have been right,” he hisses, and despite the frown on his face, another emotion seems to glimmer in his eyes. The air between us is thick, his face mere inches from mine. His breath smells sweet, with light notes of peppermint dancing across it.

Heels clack, somebody quickly approaching from down the hallway, and Zayne quickly moves away from me as the door to the lab opens. Jenna enters, her eyes wide as she notes our presence in the room. Thanks for moving, Zayne.

“You two? I should’ve known you would be here. Such hard workers,” she praises, and I smile nervously as my blush grows deeper.

“Thank you, Doctor. We wanted to get a head start on that blood for the patient with the hurt leg,” Zayne tells her, and I nod along with him. Jenna nods, placing her purse down on the table by the door.

“I’m here for the same reason, actually. Any news?” She asks, seemingly unaware of the tense scene she had walked in on.

“We’re still waiting on one last test, but it appears that they were right. No adenoma,” Zayne admits, and I am floored by how easily he has admitted defeat. Jenna just nods in response, taking a sip out of her coffee mug before putting on some gloves of her own.

“Great work, you two. I’ll wait for that last test. Go home and get some rest,” she tells us, and Zayne opens his mouth to argue. “No, I insist. You guys don’t get paid for overtime, and I do. It’s better for everyone,” she winks, and Zayne concedes defeat. We grab our backpacks, thanking Jenna profusely as we leave the lab and enter the hallway.

Zayne doesn’t say a word as we walk down the hall, and I consider several different things I can say. “I win?” No, maybe “I told you so?” Or should I just leave it alone? I open my mouth to say something, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into a dark room before I can begin.

“Zayne-” I begin, but he shushes me as locks the door behind him with a click. We are in one of the empty patient rooms, a clean and perfectly made bed sitting in the center of the room. He quickly shuts the curtains to the room, leaving only the small lamp in the corner to illuminate us.

I open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing, but he’s on me before I can get a single word out. His lips press against my own, almost hungry as bites my bottom lip. I can’t help but moan into his mouth, my lips moving aggressively against his as he pushes me against the door behind me.

One of his hands finds my hair, pulling slightly on my ponytail, which coaxes another moan from my mouth. His other hand finds the side of my face, pulling me even closer to him as his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I part my lips, letting him search my mouth with a ferocity I’ve never seen from him before.

I pull away for air, and he groans impatiently. “Zayne, where is this coming from?” I ask as he begins moving his lips down my face and onto my neck. A mewl escapes from my parted lips as he finds a particular spot in the crook of my neck, sucking on it roughly. “Zayne!” I say again, practically breathing out his name.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” he whispers in between his kisses on my neck. “I love how aggressive you get, and how competitive you are... And- fuck- the way you talk to me? So bratty,” he moans out the last word, nipping at my neck with his teeth. I let out a yelp, and he licks the bite apologetically.

He pauses, looking up at me from where he is kissing my neck. “This is okay, right?” He asks, his eyes almost pleading. I scoff, pushing his head back towards my neck.

“Better than okay, Zayne.”

He groans against me, kissing me once more on the neck before tearing the lab coat off of my shoulders. He takes his off as well, licking along the column of my neck as he throws it to the floor. Without warning, he puts his arms around my bottom and lifts me in the air. I gasp, and he walks us over to the hospital bed as he presses another aggressive kiss on my lips.

He lays me on the bed, hiking my skirt up until my entire lower half is exposed. My underwear is now soaked, and he seems to notice almost immediately. A grin spreads across his face as he feels me through my underwear, the friction of the fabric against my clit making me hiss in a breath.

“We’ve only just started, and you’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice. I try to think of something snarky to say, but his finger feeling me through my underwear sends another jolt of pleasure through my body.

He chuckles darkly, pulling his hand away. I let out a whine of protest, but his hands move up to his neck as he begins to loosen his tie. I watch the tendons in his hands flex, the beauty of just this small part of him enough to captivate me. He notices me staring, slowing his movements as his long, dexterous fingers untie the knot around his neck.

“I want those in me so bad,” I admit, and he smirks as he finally takes off his tie. He begins unbuttoning his shirt, each release of a button showing me more and more of his toned torso. He doesn’t take the shirt all the way off, instead choosing to let his lay open against his chest.

“Your turn,” he mutters, eyeing my clothed chest with impatience. I take the hint, quickly moving my fingers to unbutton my shirt. I manage to get most of them unbuttoned, my bare breasts finally exposed to the cold hospital air. Before I can finish unbuttoning it, though, Zayne pounces.

His thumb finds my nipple, already peaked due to the chill of the hospital room. He tweaks the tip of my nipple, sending a shiver down my spine as I arch my chest up into him. “So eager,” he moans, doing the same to the other nipple.

He lowers his head, taking one of my nipples in his warm mouth as he kneads my other breast with his hand. I curse as his tongue circles my nipple, the pleasure rippling through my body in waves. I almost beg him to come back when he finally pulls away, but he moves too quickly for me to get a word out.

His thumb hooks on my soaked underwear, pulling it down my legs before throwing it in the pile of lab coats next to him. He pauses, slowly rolling up his sleeves as I lay utterly bare before him. The sight alone sends another wave of pleasure through me. His eyes never leave me, finally rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and exposing his toned forearms.

He bends down on the floor in front of me, gripping my legs and pulling me towards the edge of the bed. I yelp in surprise, attempting to close my legs. He forces them back open with ease, positioning himself in between my legs as he looks up at me.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He smiles, lowering his head down until his warm breath is dancing across my exposed pussy. I shiver, and he finally licks up my vagina until he reaches my clit. I shudder out a breath as his tongue swirls circles around it, moving torturously slowly. He brings his hand up to where he is working, slowly pushing a finger in and letting it curl inside me.

“F-Fuck, Zayne,” I moan, my hand coming down to find his hair and grabbing tightly. He just moans in response, the vibration against my clit sending me reeling. He puts a second finger inside me, massaging my walls with delectable pressure. I pull harder on his hair, which only makes him thrust into me with more intensity.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he moans into me, before resuming the work of his tongue on my clit. I feel my orgasm finally begin to build, the tension in my lower half beginning to reach its peak.

“Zayne, please,” I mutter, but my pleas are not enough. He pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as the cold air hits my exposed cunt. “Z-Zayne,” I whine, and he just makes a tsk noise.

“So needy,” he tells me, and I whine again as I feel my orgasm start to retreat. I hear the clink of metal and watch as he begins to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather from the loops of his belt and letting it fall to the floor. He quickly unbuttons his slacks, letting them hit the floor at his feet.

All that’s left are his boxers, the only thing keeping me from what I want. When he doesn’t take them off, I sit up and move to take them off myself, kneeling down on the ground in front of him. He just grabs my wrists, making that tsk noise yet again.

“Patience is one of the most important traits a doctor can have, you know,” he murmurs, taking a moment to rub his thumb over my swollen lips.

“Says the guy fucking me in a doctor's office instead of asking me on a date first,” I answer back, taking his thumb in my mouth and sucking on it teasingly. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t quite hide the hunger now sparkling in them.

He pulls down the boxers, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side impatiently. His length is now fully exposed, and I almost start to feel nauseous just from the idea of it going in me. “There’s no way,” I whine, and he seems to think this is hilarious.

He pushes the tip of his dick towards me until it is tapping against my lips, rubbing teasing circles until I finally take him in my mouth. I take in just the tip, letting my tongue catch the small dots of precum and swirling my tongue around teasingly. He twitches at each rotation, and I can’t help but smile onto his cock.

I start to move slowly down the shaft, but there is no way I am fitting it in its entirety down my throat. Instead, I bring my hands to the bit left over and massage it roughly, my head bobbing faster as his hands reach my ponytail.

“F-fuck,” he manages to groan, his hand grasping my ponytail tightly as he helps move me up and down his length. His movements get sloppier, his legs shaking as his release approaches faster and faster with each bob.

Before he can finish, I pull my mouth off of him with a sinful pop. I stand back up, staring directly into his eyes as he looks down at me. Sweat is dripping from his hair now, a few shivers still racking his body as he stands bare in front of me. His cock is throbbing, and I watch as his pleading eyes turn to pure lust.

He pushes me back onto the hospital bed, and as I turn to try and escape, he manages to catch me around the waist. My back is now to him, my ass pressed firmly against his rigid length behind me. I can’t help but moan, letting him tease me by grinding into my backside.

“Please,” he whispers, his lips touching my ear as he pleads into it. He pauses for a moment, biting down lightly on my earlobe. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you now,” he mutters again, letting one of his hands move back to my clit.

I lift my head over my shoulder, managing to reach his lips with my own as I give him a small peck. He presses his finger down harder on my clit, and I let my head fall again as I grow weak from pleasure.

“Say it,” he pleads again, his finger rubbing circles on me with a delectable pressure. I struggle to find the words, breathless from his length still grinding against my backside.

“P-please, fuck me. Oh G-God,” I manage to mumble out, and he doesn’t wait a second longer before he bends me over. His dick finds my folds, rubbing against them teasingly before slowly sliding into me.

He starts with just the tip, easing in and out a few times before finally pushing himself in fully. I have to bite back the scream that threatens to escape from me, the sensation of suddenly being so full of him almost too much to handle.

His thighs slap against my ass as he thrusts in again, his fingers digging into my hips as he moves me on him. I can already feel his fingers leaving bruises on me, and I suddenly feel grateful that the lab coat covers so much of my body when I wear it.

One of his hands finds its way up to my ponytail, yanking back on it roughly and sending my face upwards. He groans again, using my hair to help him thrust in even deeper than before. His cock rams over and over again into my G-spot, the release in my stomach building more with every thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his hand leaving my hair and instead moving around my waist. It presses down on my stomach, making my walls even tighter around him. He shudders, his arms wrapping around me in something close to a hug as he continues pounding into me.

I’ve nearly reached my peak when he brings his hand back down towards my clit. Rubbing quick circles around it as he thrusts even faster. It hits me, nearly blindingly, and I feel my body start to spasm. My legs are shaking, my orgasm making me clench tighter around his cock.

He lets out a curse, nearly whimpering as he finally falls apart. His grip around me tightens as he finishes, shooting deep inside me and somehow filling me up even more. He continues thrusting, his cock now throbbing as he finally slows down.

We let the spasms run their course, each of our bodies twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all. I finally collapse, his large body moving to cradle mine in the twin-sized hospital bed below us. Our foreheads touch as he presses a soft kiss to my lips, sweat dripping from both of us as he smiles stupidly at me.

“I’ve never seen you so disheveled before. You’re usually so well put together,” I mumble, marveling at the way the top student in our class heaves out a shaky breath and caresses my face with his hand. He kisses my lips again before trailing the kisses back down to my neck.

As he kisses the bruised spot on my neck, I lean down and put my mouth right next to his ear.

“Zayne: 2. Me: 2,” I whisper, and he stops kissing my neck immediately. He looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine with a deadly seriousness.

“Looks like we’ll need a tiebreaker then, huh?”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, and he just gives me a devilish grin before trailing the kisses back down my neck, moving lower with each one.

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THANKS FOR READING GUYS! And thank you to the person who left this ask. I had so much fun researching for this one and ended up texting my biochemistry major friend to ask for help (hiiiiiii Rich, if you're reading this).

I'll have the other asks I've received posted soon, I promise!

-Robbie

[danyseastar]

this is an INCREDIBLY disingenuous take, which doesn’t shock me in the slightest despite season two utterly destroying the fanon perception of alicent many have made up in their minds.

rhaenyra did not want to marry laenor, book or show. it is a direct consequence of viserys’ inability to be anything other than a complacent door mat, and daemon attempting to sully rhaenyra’s reputation in the hopes that viserys will marry her to him. the only husband she chooses is daemon.

the show did her far less justice in that it created a storyline of rhaenyra being given a ‘choice’ or at the very least the ‘illusion of choice’ before being forced to marry. the situation leading up to it is roughly the same minus that aspect is the book. i have no doubt in my mind that viserys would have concocted some scheme to bring the velaryon’s back into the fold regardless of rhaenyra’s reputation being put into question, but i digress. i’m not here to talk about hypotheticals.

rhaenyra has no intentions of not ‘doing her duty’ or ‘not sacrificing herself enough’ in this endeavor. this person is purposely misleading with their usage of only part of the quote (the one that fits the narrative they want to push). below is the dialogue for the scene this person is talking about:

the conversation, as this person so eloquently put, is not about rhaenyra wanting to ‘fuck whoever she pleases.’ it’s two teenagers put into a predicament they don’t want to be in; one because she both does not want to marry and wishes to find love with someone else, and the other a closeted gay man with no interest in women. the full quote is, “that we perform our DUTIES to our fathers, then each of us dines as we see fit.” rhaenyra had no initial interest in not having trueborn children with her husband. this is further proven with the season one episode seven line, “i had hoped to bear your [laenor’s] children.”

another point i’d like to make is WHY exactly is it seen as such a character flaw to not want to be looked down upon, or taken advantage of? to want freedom and flights of fancy and the ability to be happy? a certain someone DID her duty, and she wasn’t happy. she SACRIFICED everything, and she still wasn’t happy. she ultimately decides to gift her sons on a silver platter to the enemy in her pursuit of protecting her daughter and granddaughter; after a conversation where she admits that she was jealous of rhaenyra, for finding that happiness she herself was unable to grasp. this is not a moral failing on rhaenyra’s part. i don’t care what the in world ethics are of any given situation, i’m not going to sit back and look at a system meant to hurt women and root for it, whether my favorite character supports it or not. whether i deem it the ‘safest’ option (it isn’t) for my favorites lives to continue. how is anyone meant to break the wheel if they continuously allow themselves to be stepped on, or god forbid uphold it for their own personal gain?

‘i’m supposed to root* for her?’ you don’t have to root for her. you’re not obliged to. you’re not going to be burned at the stake. you’re not special for siding with overt female subjugation because the only women you deem to deserve better are those who perform their duties unwillingly and sacrifice their bodies and minds in the process. those who don’t fit into mold of the patriarchy be damned, the imperfect victims that they are, the ‘bad’ women of society.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part - 22 | 23 | 24

masterlist

warnings: swearing, slightest mention of sex

you’d been turning the conversation over in your head for hours, trying to predict exactly how it would go. you knew topper wouldn’t take the news well, and while rafe seemed calm, you could feel the nervous edge in the way his fingers tapped on your thigh.

“you sure you don’t want me to handle this?” rafe asked you again, as he pulled into the driveway.

“no,” you said firmly, “it has to come from me: he’ll take it better if it’s from me.”

rafe gave you a skeptical look but didn’t argue.

the door opened almost immediately after rafe knocked, not even giving his hand time to leave the wood. topper’s usual cocky smirk fell the second he saw the two of you standing together. “what the hell is this?” he asked, clearly confused as to why you’d be together, holding a beer in his right hand.

“hey, top,” you said carefully, your voice remained calm as you attempted not to provoke your cousin, “can we come in? we need to talk.”

his eyes narrowed in suspicion, flicking slowly between you and rafe before he stepped aside to let you in. “this better be good,” he muttered, as though this were some big inconvenience to his day, before closing the door behind you.

the three of you settled in the living room — topper sprawled on the couch, you on the armchair to the side of him, and rafe hovering behind you like a silent anchor. the air felt heavy with unspoken words, and you could tell topper was bracing himself for the potential bomb you were about to drop.

“alright,” topper smacked his lips, impatience coursing through him as he sipped his beer. “what’s going on? you two best friends now or something?”

you exchanged a glance with rafe before choosing your next words. “not exactly,” you said slowly, “we’re… well, we’re together— rafe and i. we’ve been seeing each other.”

for a moment, there was silence. then topper let out a laugh — a sharp sound of disbelief. “you’re joking,” he said, looking between you, “tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not,” you hesitated, your voice remained steady though you were startled by his response.

topper’s laugh cut off abruptly, his jaw tightening. before you knew it, he had rose from his seating position and was heading straight for rafe — blinded by pure rage. taking his thick index finger, topper harshly stabbed rafe’s chest over and over, in between his words, “are you fucking serious? what is this to you, huh? something to just piss me off?”

he was seething, but rafe remained calm, his tone firm and steady, “no, i care about her, top,” he smiled at his own confession, “like really fucking care about her. and i get that it’s hard for you, but this has nothing to do with you.”

topper stood, breathing in and out at a rapid pace, steam rolling off him. rafe continued, “you had no problem going after sarah, so don’t start acting like you have moral high ground here”

but rafe’s words only riled topper up further, “oh, so this is what this is?” topper flashed a grin one could only describe as sinister, “getting back at me for fucking your sister? revenge.”

before rafe could interject topper continued, stepping away from rafe slightly, his finger still pointing in his direction, “you know i always knew you weren’t okay with it. always had a problem with it didn’t you, rafe? you might not have said it… but i knew.”

“not at all—“

“you lying bastard,” topper lunged at rafe, causing you to spring out of your seat in an attempt to prevent the brewing altercation.

you stood in the middle of the two boys. you hands rested firmly on the shoulders of your cousin as you attempted to lessen his anger, rage was still evident on his face — you’d never seen him so angry.

“top, please don’t do this,” you spoke softly.

“he’s out of his mind if he thinks he gets to mess with you,” topper muttered, barely above a whisper.

rafe’s jaw clenched, but his voice didn’t reveal his building irritation, “i’m not messing with her. i— i love her, top.”

you froze at his words, but now wasn’t the time to delve into them. topper scoffed, “unbelievable. you’ve been sneaking behind my back and you think that’s — what? justi-fucking-fiable?”

“it’s not like that,” you ran your hands down his shoulders, in a way to calm him down, “we weren’t trying to hurt you, topper. we just… wanted to figure things out before telling anyone.”

“and you’ve just figured it out now, have you?” topper snapped, “you’ve seriously lost it, y/n. do you even know what you’re getting yourself into with him?”

“i don’t need you to tell me what i’m doing,” you shot back! “i’m not a kid!”

rafe interjected, his tone unwavering, “i’m not playing games, and i’m not here to hurt her. you know me, top. i wouldn’t do that.”

topper’s breathing eventually began to steady as he reached a state of neutrality. he sighed, before turning to you with an intensity about him, “this isn’t going to be easy, y/n. it’s… complicated. and it’s messy— for you, for me, for everyone.”

“i know, but i care about him. i’m not going to just throw it all away because it’s hard or because you don’t like it.”

topper ran his hand through his hair. “god, this is such a mess,” he muttered. he turned back to rafe, pointing a finger at him once more, “if you screw this up, i swear to god—”

“i won’t,” rafe firmly cut him on, “you have my word.”

the room fell into an uneasy silence, tension hanging in the air. you all sank back into your original placing within the living room before topper spoke up, “i can’t lie, i’m not thrilled… but if this is what you want, y/n then… whatever.”

you exhaled i’m relief, rafe’s hand coming up to brush against your back in silent support. it wasn’t perfect, but it was a start — topper would come round.

“you’ll come around,” rafe said with a small, knowing smirk — as though he’d read your mind — earning a glare from topper.

“don’t push your luck,” topper snapped, but there was a hint fo resignation in his voice.

as you and rafe left the house, the weight of the confrontation slowly lifted, replaced by a tentative sense of hope. it wasn’t the smoothest conversation, but at least the truth was out. and that, for now, was enough.

rafe’s close friends story

sarahcameron replied to his story:

nan looking a bit different here 😂

“what the fuck is sarah on about,” rafe laughed, holding his phone up to you as you both entered your grandparents’ home. the house was silent, the elder couple having departed from the living room to go to sleep.

“oh, i told the pogues i couldn’t hang today… because i was with nan,” you grinned down at him, as you shedded your coat while he removed his trainers placing them in their usual position by the door.

“you gonna tell them about us?”

“yeah,” you smiled, hiding your uncertainty: the pogues and kooks had never really gotten along, this was foreign territory and you didn’t know how they’d take it. “i like it when you put your trainers there, by the way.”

“what?” rafe let out a small laugh, amused.

“i don’t know, it’s just… nice,” you grasped his hand guiding him to your bedroom, “a nice reminder that you’re here… with me.”

and with that, he pulled you closer and joined your lips, kissing you softly.

later, when the two of you found yourselves tangled in the sheets of your bed, you whispered, “so did you mean it?”

the room was dark, so you couldn’t visibly see rafe’s face but his confused was apparent, “mean what?”

“what you said at topper’s…” he remained just as confused, “that you loved me.”

“course i did,” he smiled, before planting a kiss on your nose.

“well, i love you too.”

your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, as you pulled him impossibly close, deepening the kiss. his wide hands cupped your cheeks, holding you face like it was the most delicate object he’d even held.

before things could escalate, “you know, i’ve been thinking,” rafe started, “about how much i like this— you.”

a warmth spread through your cheeks, but you stayed quite, letting him continue.

“i’ve never felt this way before,” he admitted, his voice quieter now “not with anyone. and i don’t want to pretend like this is casual or temporary, because it’s not. at least, not for me.

as his words sunk in, your breath hitched, “rafe…”

he shifted closer, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you — though the lack of lighting made it very difficult. “i know things aren’t perfect. i’m not perfect. but i want try — really try — with you.”

you blinked up at him, heart pounding in your chest as he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“so,” he continued, a smile growing on his face though you couldn’t see it well, “will you be my girlfriend? officially?”

the question hung in the air, you were in utter surprise at what he’d said, your emotions swirling.

“yes,” you whispered, your voice soft but certain, “of course, i’ll be your girlfriend — yes!”

he was suddenly filled with emotions of relief and happiness, as he leaned down to kiss your lips once more, before gently kissing your forehead. “you just made me the happiest guy in the world,” he murmured against your skin.

“you’ve gone soft, cameron,” you laughed softly as you reached up to cup his jaw.

“only for you,” he said, settling back beside you and pulling you into his chest.

as you lay there, wrapped up in him, you feet rubbing against his, you couldn’t help but feel like things were finally falling into place.

you’d told topper, albeit his reaction may not have been what you hoped, but you were one step closer. all you had to do now was tell the pogues… and the internet.

your camera roll

a/n: thank you for all the lovely comments, i seriously appreciate all of the love on this smau — not long left to go!

haven’t proof read so sorry in advance :)

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101 @akobx @lossfairy @marleymarleymarleymarley @jjmaybankmylovee @mbella607 @scream4mami @mrsdrewstarkeyy @honeyluvsatj @rafegetinmybed @hypnotizedstarkey

[sillygoose067]

A Masked Promise

Ch.20

Dick Grayson(Nightwing) x Reader

You both had settled into the couch, the empty plates from breakfast still on the coffee table, while a soft, mellow playlist played in the background. Dick had settled in next to you, his arm casually resting behind you, and you found yourself sinking into his side, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before you felt a tug in your chest. There was something you’d been meaning to bring up, something that had been sitting in your mind for the past few days. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with Dick—it was the opposite, actually. You felt incredibly safe with him, but this was a conversation you knew needed to happen. Your relationship, as wonderful as it had been so far, had reached a point where you both needed to discuss things you hadn’t even thought about until now.

You pulled back a little from his embrace, your heart fluttering nervously. "Gray?" you began, your voice quieter than you intended.

He glanced down at you, brow furrowing slightly in concern, as if he could sense your shift in mood. "Mmm, what’s up?" His tone was soft and attentive, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how patient he always seemed to be with you.

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, not quite sure how to start. "There’s… something I’ve been thinking about." You could already feel the flush creeping up your neck, your heart pounding as you hesitated.

Dick remained silent, but you could feel him waiting, his presence warm and encouraging, urging you to continue.

"I don’t… I don’t know how to say this," you mumbled, nervously glancing away. "But I think we need to talk about… well, about us. More specifically, about... intimacy."

Dick's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, but his expression quickly shifted to something more careful, understanding. “Ah.”

“I just thought,” you continued quickly, your words tumbling out in an effort to fill the silence, “that it’d be good to, you know, set expectations. I don’t want there to be any confusion, and… well, I’m not exactly experienced. Like, at all.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You know that already,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But I’ve been thinking about how things have been going with us, and I feel like I should say it out loud. I don’t want my first time to be… careless or rushed. Like—like in the back of a car or something, like my friend from high school did with her boyfriend of two months.”

Dick let out a low chuckle, his fingers brushing lightly over yours. “The back of a car? I can promise you, that’s not my style.”

Relief bubbled up as you laughed softly, his playful tone easing some of your tension. “Good to know,” you said, finally daring to meet his gaze again.

He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. “I get it. And I want you to know that I’m not in any rush, okay? I don’t want this to feel like something you have to overthink or stress about.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just… I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“We are,” he assured you. But then his expression shifted, a more serious glint entering his eyes. “Since we’re being honest, there are things I didn’t love in the past, either. Times when it felt like there wasn’t enough communication, and that made things messy.”

You tilted your head curiously, your fingers instinctively finding his hand. “Messy how?”

He shrugged lightly, his tone thoughtful. “It wasn’t always clear what we wanted from each other, and that led to situations where I felt like I was… I don’t know, guessing. That’s why I want us to always talk about this stuff. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

“That makes sense,” you said softly. “I don’t think I’d be good at guessing, anyway.”

He paused, as though weighing his next words carefully. "For me, I’ve learned that it’s better to wait for the right person, the right time, instead of just doing it because it feels like you’re supposed to. Trust me, I’ve been there before."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Wait, what do you mean?"

He leaned back against the couch, rubbing his hand through his hair as he glanced away. "Before I met you, I had some experiences that I’m not proud of. I was younger, trying to figure things out, but I rushed into things because I felt like I should. In the end, none of those moments really meant anything. They were just... impulsive, and I regret it." He met your eyes, his gaze serious. "But with you? I don’t want that. I want to make sure we’re both ready for whatever comes next."

You felt a surge of relief at his honesty, the weight on your chest slowly lifting. You hadn’t expected him to share his own experiences, but it made you feel like you weren’t alone in how you were feeling.

"You’re right," you said softly. "I just want it to be with someone who cares, someone who understands me."

That earned another laugh from him, his thumb brushing your knuckles now.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of unspoken understanding, the kind that made you feel lighter somehow.

“I appreciate you telling me this,” he said, breaking the quiet. “It takes guts to bring up something like this.”

Immediately, a soft blush painted your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, but you felt his gaze on you, warm and patient.

For a moment, he said nothing. You could feel your heart rate pick up, the silence stretching out like an eternity.

You smiled, your heart fluttering as his words sank in. You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of him beside you. "Thanks, Gray."

"Anytime," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

For a few moments, you both sat there, the quiet comfort of his presence wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. The conversation had been nerve-wracking, but it felt good to have it out in the open. No more guessing, no more pressure. Just two people, learning to navigate this new and intimate part of their relationship, together.

As the quiet stretched on, you turned to him, a small smile playing on your lips. "So, what do we do now?" you asked, a teasing note in your voice.

Dick's grin widened, his eyes twinkling. "Well, for starters, we can just enjoy the day, no rush, no pressure." He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your lips. "And when you’re ready... we’ll take the next step."

You felt your heart swell as you kissed him back, the comfort of his presence and his words settling deep in your chest.

"Gray..." you started, your voice quiet again, but this time it held a certain edge to it. Something soft, but with an unmistakable depth.

His hand, which had been resting on your knee, slid up to your thigh, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he turned his head to look at you. “Yeah?” His voice was low, careful, but you could hear the curiosity beneath the calm.

You hesitated for a split second, then took a deep breath, looking up at him, your eyes slightly narrowed in playful determination. “I think... I think I might be ready for that next step, just a little more, you know?”

Dick raised an eyebrow, a small, intrigued smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh?"

You bit your lip, fighting back a nervous grin, but the excitement in your chest couldn't be contained. “I mean... we’ve had the talk, so that’s out of the way. But I think I’d like to try doing other things."

His eyebrows arched higher, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Other things?” he repeated, clearly amused now. "Care to elaborate?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as your gaze flickered down to where his fingers were tracing the skin of your leg. The simple touch made your pulse quicken, and you pushed through the flurry of shyness that threatened to overtake you. "I don't mean... you know, everything," you said with a shy laugh, the words barely escaping your lips as you tried to keep the conversation light. "But... more than just talking. Maybe... exploring a little. Testing out what we like, what feels good—" you let your eyes flicker up to his face, watching his reaction, "without rushing into anything we’re not ready for."

Dick's expression softened, the playful smirk turning into something warmer, but there was still a mischievous spark in his eyes. "So, you're saying you're not ready to run before we’ve learned how to walk?"

You nodded, a soft laugh escaping you. "Exactly. I mean, why rush? We can figure out what works."

"Wow, you could've told me you were an expert in romance, y'know, before we had the whole talk," he says with a playful smirk, earning a light smack on the chest from you.

His hand, which had been resting on your leg, shifted, fingers gently tracing the curve of your knee before moving back to your thigh. His touch lingered for just a moment longer than usual, and you could feel the way his fingers grazed the sensitive skin beneath your clothes. The tension between you thickened, but in the best possible way.

“You’re right,” he murmured, voice low, a playful yet sultry undertone there. “We’ve got all day to explore what works for us. And I have to admit... the thought of you in my arms while we figure this out...” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Sounds pretty damn enticing."

Your pulse fluttered as his words washed over you. You found yourself biting your lip again, this time with an entirely different sort of anticipation. “And maybe... maybe I’d be open to a little more than just cuddling... if you’re up for it."

Dick's eyes flickered to yours, and the intensity there was enough to make your breath hitch. "Trust me, I’m definitely up for it." His hand moved up your arm, then gently cupped your face, lifting your chin so you could meet his gaze. “But I want to make sure we’re on the same page. No pressure. Just... us, exploring things in our own time."

You leaned into his touch, nodding softly. "Exactly. Just... us. Together." The words were softer now, but the emotion behind them was clear. You wanted this—wanted him, but you wanted it to be meaningful. Slow, measured. The thrill was in the discovery, the little things that led up to more.

Dick leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. When he pulled back, his gaze was heated, yet affectionate, like he was waiting for you to say something more. You didn’t have to say anything else though. The connection between you was undeniable, and the air between you thickened with tension.

His voice was hushed, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s see what we can discover, then."

———————————————————————————-

TAGLIST:

@mybones537 @thereeallink @ziziriaa-blog

[genderqueerdykes]

How to deal w a longtime friend that at some point became a radfem? I was bad at recognising it back then when there were clear signs and didnt know how to argue, so i stayed passive and argeeable, esp since im a nonbinary guy n shes a (sorta questioning) cis girl.

When i showed discomfort with her doing the "i hate all men" type stuff she's said "omg you're not one of those 'not all men' types" and bc i didnt know at the time i backed off, n she also mentioned how she sees/treats both trans men n cis men the same

I mean ive always felt like she's treated me that way, or that i felt like i needed to stay silent or had more priviledge when around her, despite being pre-everything and pr much closeted in my everyday life, or felt more like i was a binary man around her when im not

She has also been sorta weirdly sex/kink negative or made fun of it, for some time i figured that it was just a bit bc of her being sex repulsed n her being immature, but i still felt sorta more ashamed regarding my kinkiness/sexuality around her when not (were both on the aroace spectrum, though i figured out more recently)

Also parroting radfem rhetoric about "well the sex industry is harmful" (..every capitalistic industry is harmful) and when mentioning kinks/fetishes for some reason often brought up "but what about those kinks where people get off to women starving themselves/having problems w their weight" which is like?? Yea okay if they are doing that to real people thats bad but like what kink/fetish spaces do you hang out in where that would be the first thing you'd bring up??

I also once remember her mentioning that she felt weird about her own connection to masculinity, which i sussed and esp now sus might be due to her being this man-hating

She's told me "you don't have an issue w the 'man vs bear' thing since you're a guy right?" but i didnt feel like arguing at that time so i just agreed and quickly moved onto another subject

Looking back at older texts, she's also said before that im "one of the few men she actually respects"

I've realised how harmful and bull radfem rhetoric is now, n i want to keep a distance from her, but idk how to deal w it bc ive always been the more agreeable and peace-keeping one between us

i'm so sorry you had to go through this. radfems are possessive of the identities of everyone around them to the point of coming up with the most asinine bullshit to make other people feel insecure and question themselves and just go along with whatever the hell they're saying. it's toxic and abusive.

whenever i talk about transmasculine and trans male issues, i get those "oh you're one of those not all men types" as well. it's such a useless thing to say. like if the thing you're opposing is people making blanket statements about women and being treated like a monolith, why are you doing it to someone else? that's the example you're setting, but yet you expect different treatment? double standard.

the sex & kink negativity in radfeminism is exhausting, too. it's not progressive. a lot of people choose to go into sex work and enjoy it. some don't mind it. some are okay with that being their job. a lot of people are exploited, but not everyone is. like you said, it's the capitalist corruption of these industry that causes problems. like you said, people instantly jump to the worst possible conclusion when the subject of kink comes up

the normal song and dance is "men who are into BDSM are only straight guys who are misogynistic and want to beat women. women who are into BDSM are scared and confused and being taken advantage of and are enabling abusive men." they have very few arguments and they're all so far out of left field that it's not relevant to the type of conversation you're having in that moment. making blanket statements about all kinky people being abusive in some way... that's profiling.

at this point its your choice if you continue to interact with her. if you do, you are allowed to stand your ground and tell her that those kinds of things make you very uncomfortable and that it's just not okay. if she can't handle that, then it's not your job to try to change her mind. if she cares about you, she'll treat you with respect. i hope that's the case, but you don't owe time or energy to people who treat you like garbage. good luck, stay safe

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 22.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content, Dean being naughty and goofy, teasing, praise kink, bit of fingering, a lil' spankin', biting, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it!), softdom!Dean, Dean guiding you through a new s♡x-position, fluff, aftercare and also there's pizza (yes, that's a warning) - no use of Y/N - there's probably more so just let me know if I missed something - English is not my native language and I’m dead on my feet Contains brief reference to Dec.9 (Whip Stroke) and Dec. 16 (Roll Over Rule)

Summary: Your ideas of 'self-care' couldn't be more contradicting: Dean's craddling a pillow and munching on his cold pizza, while you go through your yoga routine next to the motel bed. The entire time he's watching you stretch and bend and arch your back with lingering eyes... until he decide's you've had enough yoga. Time for a 'fun way' to relax.

Words: ~6,500 (yeah, I know, prepare for a lot of teasing, but it'll pay off)

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! Let me know in the comments what your favorite part was! <3 A/N: At this rate, I give up on the order of the prompts / days. 🥲 But I definitely want to complete the challenge! (Sorry for the long wait y'all!)

22nd Dec. - Yoga, Kama Sutra - potato, potahto

“Of course pizza beats yoga.” Dean scoffs, his eyebrows pinched together with a lazy shake of his head in disbelief. Like the audacity of you even questioning the superiority of fast food? Unbelievable.

“But- how can you even compare the two? That’s junk food. And this is like…” You think for a moment until you remember the right term, “Self-care. You should try it once.” You try to argue in hopes that this conversion might still turn to your favour. But you know you’re pulling on threads by now.

“Oh I do self-care.” He retorts gruffly, his eyes flickering down at you. And to proof his point, he stuffs a big bite of pizza into his mouth, munching on it while he continues, his words halfway muffled, “Food and beer’s my self-care, baby.”

“But-” You groan with a roll of your eyes but stop yourself there. If that man wasn’t halfway as fit as he is, you’d at least still have the trump card of health factor left. But truth be told, despite that, you didn’t have any more arguments, and you both knew it.

So in Dean’s eyes that settled it. His way of self-care is superior to yours. End of discussion.

His focus shifts back to his pizza and the old TV boxed in by a pair of wooden chairs. The smell of cold junk food mingles with the musty carpet that's infiltrating your nostrils everytime you get a bit closer to the floor. Gratefully the sweet cinnamon smell of one of those Christmas candles you had lit the moment you returned to your room, covers up most of the motels stale stench.

After Dean has been channel zapping through various Christmas movies, he finally gave in and tossed the remote control aside on the bed. The TV is running some ads in the background now and Dean is on his stomach stuffing his face with pizza, while you are on the ground next to the motel bed, doing your yoga session on a mat. "To relax," as you had explained to him. "Desperately needed after this case had turned out to be a damn goose chase all along." You added. And on top of that, the hard mattress you had to put up with for the past week did little to ease your bad mood or aching back pain.

By now, Dean had become used to your sporadic yoga sessions whenever time allowed it. Although it was still a mystery to him how this ‘weird hippie stuff’ was in any way relaxing to you, he always enjoyed watching you. And he’d made it a habit of his own to comment with a lick over his lips – perhaps even a low, appreciative whistle – and shamelessly lustful eyes taking in every detail of your body as you’re going through your routine, “Have I ever told you how lucky I am? Like jesus – you’re so fuckin’ flexible. Like some friggin’ contortionist. I bet you can even hook your foot behind your head.”

So, naturally, Dean isn’t really paying any attention to the TV. Even though the intro sequence of “Die Hard”, one of his favourite movies, is now playing.

As always his eyes are lingering on your stretchy outfit and how tightly your favourite colour wraps your body, highlighting every curve of yours, no matter where. The thin shimmer of sweat on your exposed skin and the way you seemed so in control and at the same time at peace. To him it felt like a big contrast to the moments of action where you’d cut down a vamp or plunge a stake through a pagan’s ribcage, your movements quick, precise and face and clothings always covered in the red aftermath.

He takes another bite of the pizza, attempting to distract himself, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. Your rear in the air now as you switch into the Downward Dog pose. The soft moans and heavy breaths that slip your lips makes him chew slower. His mind now imagining you arching your body in other ways rather than yoga moves, while moaning his name and – Damnit, Winchester, get your mind out of the gutter.

“You having fun up there?” Your teasing voice rips right through his rather explicit picture of him going through some yoga poses with you at his mercy and he almost chokes on the mouthful of pizza. He forces it down with a swig of beer, while he gathers his thoughts sufficiently to reply with a cocky smirk, “Just enjoying the view.”

“Of course you do.” You roll your eyes but can’t help a soft chuckle before you switch to another pose.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches how you effortlessly stretch your legs apart just to roll over onto your stomach where you continue with propping yourself up on your hands, arching your back and then tipping your head back while pressing your stomach into the mat.

“Tell ya what,” he suddenly speaks up before he interrupts himself, stuffing the rest of the pizza crust into his mouth and swallowing it down. “You could probably do the whole Kama Sutra without breaking a sweat.”

You hold the Cobra pose when your chest briefly heaves from the huff that slipped your nose. “Horn dog.”

“Yoga, Kama Sutra – potato, potahto.” He snorts with a mocking tone, clearly starting to get annoyed from his fruitless efforts to distract you so far.

He shifts on the bed, propping his head up on the pillow in the crook of his arm to get a new angle on your curves. After watching you for a moment, he decides it’s time for a new approach.

He clears his throat before he muses in a sultry tone, “There’s also better ways to relax than yoga.”

While he licks his greasy fingers clean, he can’t help but appreciate the way the tight fabric of your yoga pants stretch over your curves again.

Still playing deaf, huh? A playful Cheshire smile forms on his lips when he finishes to suck his last digit with a obscene pop. He then continues in a demanding voice, “C’mere.”

“I’m not done yet.” You reply curtly, muffled slightly by the mat, your head now dropped down with your forehead resting on your folded hands.

He lets out an amused hum, “Oh yes you are.”

Within seconds he rolls off the motel bed to move on top of you, straddling your thighs and pressing down on you, pinning you against the mat.

You let out a surprised gasp, “Dean!”

But the only response you get is a cheeky “Heh-heh”.

When you feel his warm hands cup your butt cheeks and starting to squeeze and massage them, you lift your head to glance back over your shoulder at him. You give him your warning ‘seriously now?’ look, which he just deflects with a mock-innocent grin of his that said ‘what?’.

The way his palms squeeze firmly against your butt cheeks makes him let out a low satisfied hum in his throat. One hand moves to rest next to your head, supporting him as he leans down. His breath’s hot against your ear when he mutters, “This’ a lot more fun than that bullshit yoga.”

You want to bite back with a snarky comment about it not being bullshit at all – but your thought gets cancelled the moment his lips brush over the sensitive skin behind your earlobe, tracing a path of open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. You let out a low shuddering breath, instinctively tilting your head for him.

But then a waft of his junk-food-slash-beer-laced breath hits your face and it instantly makes your nose scrunch up in a cute fashion.

“De, you smell like a dumpster.” You chuckle and reach with your hand over your shoulder to playfully shove his face away.

“Oh yeah?” He retorts with a smirk. Meanwhile his free hand snakes to the inside of your thighs, tight fingers sliding up under the stretchy fabric of your yoga shorts.

“Huh… only one way to solve it.” He mutters before he nips at your hand which had been pushing his face, giving the tip of your middle finger a short sharp bite that makes you gasp and immediately pull away.

He chuckles at your reaction and then straightens up to sit back on your legs. He inches further down to your calves, his eyes darting from his fingers wiggling under your short pants, up to your face again with a smirk on his lips. “I know what you’re thinking, sweetheart…”

Your anticipation’s building quickly. Feeling his fingers tracing so teasingly along the rim of your panties made the heat pool in your stomach and your mind throw all other plans for your remaining yoga session out the backdoor. And he damn well knew it the moment he brushed against the damp stain in the centre of your thin patch of fabric.

But then you let out a frustrated huff. He’d suddenly pulled his hand from between your legs to pat your ass with it, his glinting emerald eyes never leaving yours as he continues with a drawled “Nuh-uh.”

Then he leans over to the bed, his hand sliding into the pizza box where he fishes a remaining slice out. “Open wide.” He orders with a grin as he reaches with his hand over your shoulder. There he prods the tip of the pizza slice against your cheek, “C’mon, down the hatch. Commit a sin for me.” He quips with a feigned serious tone.

When you still look at him with that expression of befuddlement, he chuckles, his grin widening, “Take a bite, sunshine. Your breath’s my breath.”

You’re torn between being turned on by his words in some dirty twisted way and being utterly amused by them. It’s not like you were on a diet – heck, you sometimes eat so much junk food with all the cheap diner’s you’d hit every day on the road, it was a damn miracle you hadn’t gained weight yet.

“C’mon, Say aaaah.” He hums, still grinning from ear to ear as he prods the pizza slice against your lips.

After an amused snort, you can’t help but crack a grin of your own, “You’re a silly man, Winchester, you know that?” You finally give in and open your mouth enough to take a bite of the cold salami pizza.

“Yeah, but I’m your silly man.” He replies as he discards the pizza slice back into the box.

You swallow the bite down when his finger swipes over your bottom lip to clean away a streak of tomato sauce. His eyes follow his thumb’s movement, his touch gentle but the expression on his face more mischievous when he watches the tip of your tongue licking out to chase his finger to catch the bit of sauce.

You hold each other’s intense gazes, eyes darkened with something more. The sudden shift in atmosphere had you both still in your movements, taking in how the air between you had suddenly charged up.

Dean finally can’t take the tension any more and lets out a low growl from the back of his throat. He withdraws his finger, before giving your cheek a soft pat. “There’s my good girl.”

Your lips curl into a proud smile at his praise, “Only for you.”

A soft chuckle slips over his lips as he straightens up to sit back on your thighs again. His hands run down your back until they wrap around your hips, fingers trailing the hem of your yoga shorts. He hooks his fingers into the elastic band, slowly starting to pull them over your butt cheeks.

Your breath hitches when the cold air makes contact with your exposed rear. Next moment you feel his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your left bum cheek which triggers a short surprised yelp of yours.

“It was just too tempting.” He chuckles against your skin before he lets go of your butt with a wet-smooch to the red mark and straightens up again.

He pats the spot where he’d just claimed you, with his hand, “Lift up your hips, sweetheart.”

As you wiggle underneath him, he gets up on his knees, his weight now lifted off you to aid you with it. He leans forward to get a better hold on the fabric to properly pull the yoga pants along your panties down towards your knees.

“There we go… Now hold still for me, sunshine…” He mutters while his hands move along your skin.

A shiver runs through your body as you feel the only thing between you and him being taken from you, how you feel the fabric brush down your legs until you are completely exposed for him. Exposed and at his mercy. And damn it made your breath hitch from feeling vulnerable, as much as excitement.

After his hands had traveled further down, taking your pants and underwear with him, he discarded the redundant pieces of clothing to the side.

Finally satisfied, Dean slides down your legs again until he’s sitting on your calves, his hands on the back of your thighs. “Now where was my good girl’s cute little butt again.” He comments as he gently palms the soft globes of your cheeks with his smile never leaving his lips.

You groan softly and your eyes flutter closed, your body practically melting into the yoga mat under his touch.

“Oh, right, there it is.” He squeezes, his large hands massaging the flesh before he suddenly gives you a firm spank.

“Jesus-!” You yelp up at the unexpected sharp smack, your eyes wide open now as you whip your head to the side to stare back at him.

“Hey, you’re in prime spanking position here. What am I supposed to do, just admire the view and do nuthin’?” He mutters behind a teasing chuckle, his green eyes glued to the spot on your butt that was now slowly turning a light shade of red where his palm had hit you. “Plus, I know ya like it. Or you want me to get out the leather crop and remind you of our spankin’ session last week?”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily at the reminder of that evening. And the heat in your core is tingling from the vivid memory of that sweet-burning sensation that had taken over your body every time the leather smacked down on your skin.

“Guilty as charged.” You mutter while you have to force a moan back down your throat.

Dean’s lips curl into a cocky grin, “Knew it.”

You playfully narrow your eyes at him as you glance back over your shoulder to keep an eye on his sinful hand. But Dean stays unperturbed, if anything, your warning look just spurs him on even more.

“That’s for looking too damn good in those tight-ass yoga leggings.” He continues, giving your butt another firm slap before he reaches between your legs and your breath catches in your throat. His thumb traces the outline of your dripping folds, “And this-” His fingertips just graze over your centre, “That’s for being my good girl.”

He takes a moment to enjoy your gasp and how your head had dropped to the mat, your breath shaky already. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he orders in a more gravelly tone, “Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me. I need to taste you.”

A shuddering exhale leaves your mouth, followed by a curse that luckily gets swallowed by the yoga mat you’re breathing into. You bend your knees slightly outward, as far as his hips pinning down your calves allow you to go.

“That’s it sweetheart…” He murmurs before his large hands grab the inside of your thighs, guiding your legs to part even further while his head slowly starts to sink down between them.

Your thighs begin to shiver from his warm breath hitting your soaked slit, desperately begging for his attention. Your hands blindly search for the edge of the mat, your fingers clutching it on each side as you prepare for him to dig into you.

Dean of course notices your anticipation and can’t miss the chance to comment on it.

“You’re gonna grab that mat nice and tight for me, sunshine. And you’re gonna hold still, keep those legs spread, and stay nice and quiet.” He instructs, his tone taking on a more commanding one, but still with a mischievous edge to it.

He then lowers his eyes again to admire the slick flesh between your legs where your folds are already parted, practically gleaming in the dim light of the motel room.

“Damn, look at you all nice and wet and open for me.”

Dean shifts his weight to brace his left elbow on the floor next to your hip, the other hand splayed out on the small of your back to hold you in place.

“You’re like a damn waterfall already, sunshine.” He murmurs in awe. The way your body reacts to him never ceases to fascinate him. He leans in, and you feel his hot breath coming in short puffs as he places a gentle kiss on your hooded clit, before he pulls back again.

As you immediately lift and tilt your head to look at him, he lets out an amused hum, “Now now, head down, sweetheart. Remember, yoga’s about relaxing and focusing on your body.”

“Smartass.” you manage to groan out.

“Eatsass.” he corrects you and before you get to be smart with him again, he proofs his point by suddenly parting your slick folds with his tongue, drawing it all the way up until he pulls it back into his mouth with a smack of his lips.

A low moan ripples through your chest, finally feeling that long desired friction that has you melt into a puddle of a blubbering mess. “Please- Dean- don’t stop- I need more- please-”

He grins at your pleading words and dives right back in. Licking, prodding, tongue lapping across your glistening folds, drinking your juice like its the only thing that keeps him sane. He moves up, his tongue circling your clit before he wraps his lips around it. Your legs suddenly tense up and a pathetic mewling-yelp erupts from your parted lips when he starts to suck at your bud like he’s finishing off a flurry through a thin straw.

Your hips jerk back and involuntarily try to pull away from the onslaught. But in vain as his large palm presses down on your stomach to keep you in place and in reaction to your attempted escape, he just increases the borderline painful pull on your clit even more.

The foam gives in under your clawing fingers, feeling yourself near your climax. You’re close to a scream - until he finally loosens his grip around your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re relieved and frustrated at the same time. Your clit’s now swollen and overstimulated and oh so close to pop you off the edge.

“P-please…” you whimper and turn your head to the side against the mat to be able to look back at him, “De… please – I-… I’m so close-”

“You want to come on my face… or my fingers, hm?” Dean hums with a cocky sound to it.

“Both- anything- please,” you beg now, your chest heaving under the weight of your body, your breaths grown ragged and heavy.

“Such a greedy little thing,” he growls, his tone laced with pride, knowing exactly that he can always drive you mad with need if he wants to.

He shifts his weight, his chest resting between your legs and his free hand snaking over your thigh to join him. His fingertips reach between your legs, running through the folds, as he lets his finger circle around your entrance for a moment. At your muffled whimper, he effortlessly pushes his middle finger inside. “But first, I wanna see if I can make those legs of yours quiver from just one finger…” Dean states, his tone low with a raspier edge, and darkened eyes fixed on your dripping hole.

You gasp at his words, his gravel tone sending a shiver down your spine. But after a moment of enduring his finger’s tantalizing strokes, your patience snaps and you regain your voice.

“Oh fuck you.” you groan in protest, your teeth clenched from frustration. One finger after all this teasing? This was just pure torture now and he knew it.

“What? You want me to go in full house?” He chuckles knowingly, enjoying your worn down patience way too much for your liking, “Want me knuckles deep inside you again, is that it?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, but instead quickly jams his index finger inside you, pumping them both in and out while his lips enclose around your clit once more.

You don’t even have the time to gasp for air when you feel your walls clenching and gripping onto his curling fingers. A few seconds of intense onslaught of his is enough to send you flying over the edge with a loud guttural moan. Your nails dig into the mat, your legs are shaking and your walls fluttering around his fingers while he helps you ride out your height.

Once you fall limp and try to catch your breath, Dean slowly withdraws his two fingers to raise them to his mouth and suck them clean. He grins, wiping his face with the back of his hand before his tongue swipes over his lips, kingly as he does so, savouring every last drop of your taste.

He shifts on top of you to move a hand next to your waist on each side, leaning down to grab the hooks of your sports bra between his teeth. With a swift tug, it falls open and he leans in to kiss you between your shoulder blades. You let out a low hum, enjoying the soft affection with eyes fluttered close. He moves again to gently tug the last piece of clothing over your shoulders and arms until he flings it over his shoulder, where it lands next to your other things.

You feel the rough fabric of his shirt graze your skin, and the buckle of his belt makes you shiver when it lowers down on the nape of your back. Just below it, the growing bulge behind his jeans rubs against your butt when he rolls his hips against you.

“You feel how hard I am just because of you?” He murmurs against your skin, the words almost lost in a stifled groan. But you still answer with a low confirming hum. He continues to plant kisses along your back, taking his time to explore every single inch. His lips send small shivers down your spine and all the way to your core again, each one of them like a spark along your fuse.

“Babe?” He mutters between hot kisses lining up to your ear now.

“Mh?” You hum into the yoga mat while tilting your head slightly for him.

“You ever heard of the elephant position?” He asks innocently.

The what? That name earns him a surprised giggle of yours. It was nothing unusual that Dean would randomly hit you up with some sex-position he’d like to try out with you, but this one was a new one to you. “Are you seriously talking about how elephants mate? Or are you trying to impress me with the yoga pose?” You tease him. Clearly he wasn’t talking about the latter. “Or, let me guess, it’s a Kama Sutra thing.”

He plants another open-mouthed kiss right under your ear, “Mmm-hm,” and his throat rumbles against your neck, is lips lingering there for a moment while he murmurs, “That… Ever tried it?”

With the side of his face he nudges your head further aside before he dives down to take the skin of your neck gently between his teeth, pinching it enough to make you gasp.

At his question, though, you look a bit sheepish and you shake your head, “No… is it… good?”

Dean beams at your admission – he simply loves it whenever he can show you something new, especially when he knows how much pleasure it’ll bring you.

He perks his head up like an excited dog, “Oh you’ll love it, baby. I promise. It hits all your super-sensitive spots.” He leans back in to nibble on the soft flesh of your neck before he continues in an eager tone. “You wanna try it?”

“Uh,” you lift your head now to glance back, meeting his glinting green eyes above his wide smile. Your lips curl upwards at the sight of his excitement and you respond, “Yeah, will you, uh, will you show me?”

“Of course, baby.” He leans back to lower his hips on your thighs again, his eyes raking up and down your buck naked body. “I need you to stay just like this- uh – whatever pose this is.”

You chuckle and raise yourself on your elbows. “The sphinx.”

“Yeah, right, okay, sphinx.” He mutters and pushes himself off you for a second, “Stay. Don’t move.”

He reaches for his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking while he unbuttons his jeans and slides the denim along his boxers off his hips. The heavy, worn jeans quickly land somewhere next to your yoga outfit, and his shirt follows seconds after.

“Yeah, that’s better.” He mutters to himself before climbing on top of you again, his knees straddling your legs as he lowers himself down. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his firm pecs brushing against your back. “’M not crushing you, am I?” He asks, his tone softer for a moment.

“No, all good. Don’t worry.” You reassure him before you angle your shoulders to nuzzle your nose against his jawline, feeling the scruff prickle your skin.

“Good.” He nuzzles back into your neck, hands trailing down your arms, “Mmmh… you’re so soft, sunshine.” His hands continue their path until they wrap around your wrists and guide your arms up just slightly above your head as your chest slowly lowers back down. He places them there before he murmurs against your ear, “Keep them there for me, baby, keep them right where I can reach them, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod and suddenly become aware of the way the tip of his erection brushes against your inner thighs every time he moves.

“Just wanna make sure I know where those hands are.” Dean chuckles and purposely bucks his hips so that his swollen head briefly kisses your entrance.

His hands slowly glide up the inside of your arm, fingertips ghosting over your twitching skin. He brushes them underneath you, hands up the front of your chest, cupping your breasts and slowly kneading the soft flesh in his palms, “Can’t have you squirming and fighting against me while I’m trying to make you feel good, y’know.”

You arch into his hands, needy little sounds of pleasure dripping off your lips. Your core’s burning again, begging to be taken care of.

“I know baby, I know…” he coos between tender kisses, and in spite of his chapped lips, he caresses your shivering skin with soft love letters.

“Dean- please- I-” you start to plead, your voice bouncing off the pink foam you’re panting against.

But Dean finishes for you with his voice dropped to a rougher octave, while still trying to sound soothing for you, “You just want me to pound you mindless into that damn mat… I know… and I can’t wait to make you cry, sunshine… Gonna make you scream my name so loud, the folks at the front desk will hear it and think there’s a whole exorcism going on or somethin’… But first you need a lil’ patience, sweetheart… alright?”

The question was of course rhetorical. Once your boyfriend has his mind set on something, he’ll pull through with it. Or at least that’s how he’d like to describe himself. You of course know that you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger whenever you really want.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise… I’ll make sure you come so hard, you’ll be seeing nuthin’ but stars for a whole minute.” He adds while he withdraws one hand to palm his erection before he lines up behind you.

“But first… I gotta pump your tight bands of muscles up… the ones closest to your sweet, drippin’ entrance– ” He begins to explain but gets interrupted when he pulls a gasp from your lips, thanks to him suddenly biting down on your shoulder.

His words come out slightly muffled as he continues with a growl, “… get them hot ‘n aroused ‘n sore from all my undivided attention… I want you to come just from my cock inside you.”

You feel his tip teas your entrance, circling it but never pushing in like he’s waiting for the right moment. His feet then dip beneath your legs, before his calves and heels press against your thighs to keep them clamped together. “That’s it… keep ‘em nice ‘n tight.” He husks somewhere behind you while he rocks his hips again. His warm breath’s skimming over your sweat-dampened skin sending shivers of goosebumps in its wake.

Once you’re just in perfect position for him, he finally pushes his cock inside you in one smooth motion which draws a low guttural moan out of your throat.

For the next minutes, Dean does as he explained, taking his sweet time to build up your tension at just the right spots.

He pulls the ridged-band along your slick, clenching walls, slow and ordaining. When he feels you twitch, he knows he’s found just the right spot. With deliberate rolling motions of his hips he begins to push and pull the head of his cock along your g-spot.

Your face drops to the mat, a shaky breath rippling out of your throat when you feel him graze your insides. His slow motions are torturous and unbelievably pleasurable at the same time.

His strong thighs bind yours between his own while he increases the friction, now rutting his swollen tip against your tightly grasping entrance.

“You feel that baby?” He whispers huskily, his lips right next to your ear-shell.

“Y-yeah,” you answer weakly, your breath slowly picking up pace to match his hips new rhythm.

Once he notices your entrance shimmy around his shaft, he knows he’s got you just where he wants you. He swiftly pulls his length out, earning himself a frustrated whimper of yours.

“No- no please, don’t stop-” You start to plead but before you know it, he pushes back in. This time without holding any inch back.

“You did so well, being so patient for me…” He begins to mutter against your hair, “I’ll take care of you now. Let go and just feel me, sunshine.”

You groan, arch your back and raise your chest off the floor, holding yourself upright with your elbows. But you quickly notice it’s in fact, Dean, who’s keeping you from collapsing back into your pink mat.

He had his arm wrapped around your torso, pulling your back close to his chest. His large palms slide along your body until they wrap around your soft, plump flesh to cup one of your breasts, your nipple teasingly pinched between his thumb and index finger. He supports you both on his free hand pressed into the foam, the muscles of his biceps flexing relentlessly from the force of his movements.

All the while he keeps snapping his hips against your bum with precise thrusts, each time taking your breath as he meets your cervix. Each collision eliciting a twinge, like a sweet hurt that has your pupils dive under your eyelids.

He switches his supporting arm, the freed hand roaming every part of your body like he’s exploring and worshipping it at the same time. His large palm comes to rest on your ass, splayed out on your soft flesh. Then you feel him slip out of you, shifting his position as he puts some of his weight on your ass now to hold you down when he begins to pound you into the mat again.

“Oh fuck-” The new angle draws a surprised yelp from you.

But Dean quickly comes to soothe you with open mouthed kisses dancing up your spine, his teeth skimming your skin and his lips tasting the sheen of sweat clinging to your body. Arrived at the nape of your neck, he husks out, “Good girl, takin’ every inch of me… lettin’ me fill ya up all the way…” his voice drifts off when his tongue darts out to lick the sensitive spot behind your ears, sending another shiver down your back.

The new pace of his hips is slower but no less intense. He continues to slam his cock past your slick folds, pulling out almost entirely before he rocks his hipbones back into your cheeks. Over and over, each time all the way to the shaft’s base, drawing those guttural moans from your sweet lips which make him growl with pride.

He rasps out groans and praises against your neck, each spurring you on equally, “You’re taking me so well, baby- Fuck- so good for me… my good girl… bein’ so, so perfect, only for me…”

Your moans grow more desperate, breathless, feeling his cock harden against your soft walls. “D-Dean-,” you whimper as your head briefly lolls back to lean into his shoulder just before it drops forward again with a loud shuddering moan sparked by your core.

Your hands start fisting into the crappy motel rug, pulling at the loose threads of it as you desperately search for something to hold onto. Your frantic actions don’t go unnoticed by Dean who’s watching your every hitch in breath and twitch of your muscles, always making sure he doesn’t miss the signs that the pain’s still pleasurable to you.

He quickly shifts his weight as his hand on your ass darts over to your clawing fingers, doing the same with his other. He untangles your fingers from the fabrics, intertwining them with his own while his forearms come to join yours on the pink foam, supporting himself on both elbows now.

He can feel your legs tremble against the weight of his hips, which he uses to plough you into the yoga mat as he slams into you. His movements now erratic and rough. Squelching sounds mix with your combined moaning and panting. Driving each other closer to the edge with every sound.

“Y-you close, baby?” He growls against your ear, already knowing the answer. He can feel your fluttering walls gripping him tightly, “Fuck-” he groans, his hands squeezing yours and pinning them there when your body starts to buckle and shudder beneath him. He’s now driving his cock inside you with primal need.

“Oh God-” you whine, face pressed flush into the foam as you feel the knot in your belly tighten up and your muscles go tense.

“F-fuck yeah- that’s it- squeeze and come on my cock, come for me-” He growls, his voice dropped to a gravelly, rumbling tone. He runs his nose along your neck, across the trail of red marks, when he suddenly sinks his teeth into your flesh once more.

And that does it for you. Your knot explodes into waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Stars take over your vision when you scream his name. Your walls flutter around his cock, pulling him over the edge along you and coating your walls with his warm seeds. The climax keeps crashing down on you in multiple shock waves until your body finally falls limp, your limbs twitching as if you’d been struck by a lightning bolt.

Dean collapses on top of you, his breath ragged and hot as it wafts against your sweaty skin. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his biceps just barely able to keep his body from completely burying you under his weight.

“Damn… that- wow…” You whisper breathlessly, still trying to regain your vision and collect your thoughts.

“You were amazing, baby.” Dean praises you with a hoarse voice, his lips lingering on your temple.

You tilt your head to catch his lips in a soft, but purposeful kiss. When you pull back just enough to speak, you catch a glimpse of his eyes briefly widen at your words, “No, you are amazing.”

♡

For a moment you both enjoy each other’s soft breaths and the way he hugs you tightly as he wraps his body around you like a heavy blanket. You keep nuzzling your faces into each others hair while you let the silence be filled by your affections. Silence except for the TV which’s now playing the final scenes of “Die Hard” in the background.

After some time, Dean pushes himself off you, gently sitting back down on your bum as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. His hands are kneading the flesh of your ass as he watches you with hooded eyes. Then a cheeky grin begins to form on his lips when he realizes something.

“Y’know, you’re laying down in the perfect position for me to do somethin’.” He states with a full-out grin now.

“Huh-?” Before you can even process what’s happening, his fingers dig into the skin where he knows you’re the most ticklish.

“Dean!!” You squeal like a mouse – but the sound quickly hitches into a high-pitched giggle while you desperately try to wiggle away from him. “St-stop it- y-you jerk!” You stutter between gasps for air and the tears gathering on the rim of your eyes. You kick your legs, throwing him off and not wasting your chance, slipping away to scramble for an escape.

But you quickly find yourself back on the motel rug with a gasp and a thud, thanks to Dean pulling you back by the ankle. His smile has turned into that smug grin of his when he taunts you in a commanding voice, “Where d’you think you’re goin’, hm?”

“Th-that’s- unfair!!” you protest, but your words dissipate in another round of giggles as you turn onto your side, trying to free yourself. But Dean has his calves wrapped around your knee to lock it while his fingers skitter across the heel of your foot. You grapple with his free hand but he effortlessly evades your flailing limbs and grips you by the hip before you get to wiggle away again.

Next moment, you find yourself unceremoniously flipped back onto your stomach and his weight dropped down on your ass to pin you down bellow him. His thighs straddle you, this time reverse as his hands dart out to snatch one of your ankles, bending your leg back so he can continue his assault.

“Unfair? Me?” He lets out a deep chuckle, lips pursed in mock-innocence, his head tilted to glance back down at you over his shoulder. He stills his teasing fingers, waiting for your reaction.

You try to catch your breath while you narrow your watering eyes at him, daring him to go on.

Of course that sly bastard musters the audacity to answer your threat with a wink of his emerald eyes glinting with mischief and his lips flashed into that cocky smirk of his.

“Never.”

A/N: Dean going from goofy to smut to fluff to rough sex and back to fluffy and goofy like 📈 Idk I just see him like this, a caring 'n goofy softdom horn dog who loves it when he can show you new things.

Let me know what you think and if you got to enjoy it my sweet vixens ♡

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Kinky Advent Calendar Tags:

@ariasong11 ♡ @deansjacket ♡ @literallylexa ♡ @lmpala1967 ♡ @foxyjwls007 ♡ @impala67rollingthroughtown ♡ @aylacavebear ♡ @jc-winchester

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- six.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, mention of a bar

w.c- 2,038

a.n- i'm gonna be so honest, chapter five was originally going to be the end of this series but i was driving and i had a crazy idea. enjoy more chapters because i don't think this story will be ending any time soon.

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob @dontwantthemoney @n0n3xsisting

"i'll love you forever." he said softly.

"and always?" i asked

he laughed softly, nuzzling his face in my hair.

"and always, my love."

"[y/n]. dude, come on. wake up." nicholas' voice broke through my hard slumber, jolting me awake. i furrowed my brows, sitting up slowly and looking around. i was on the tour bus. but why? i had just been on the couch with noah..

i ran a hand over my face, trying to gather my thoughts. we just finished a show. noah and i got into another argument. but this argument was different from the one in my dream. and then i left. no.. that part was a dream. i fell asleep.

it was all fake.

the music, the new album, the sex and the kisses and the 'i love you's. it was all fake. as much as i hated him, i felt a strange sense of disappointment down in my gut. it hit me like a train. this perfect life had been built up in my mind in the course of just a couple hours. was that really what i wanted? who was i kidding, of course it was. it was all i'd ever wanted in life. to be in love. to be happy. to be able to live out my dreams freely.

even though i definitely wasn't interested in the music industry.

"what, is she still sleeping?" i heard noah's voice getting closer, and i rolled my eyes as i jumped out of my bunk. "no, asshole. i'm awake."

"oh, she lives!" he said. "what were you even dreaming about? you've been tossing and turning and talking for the past 30 minutes." he said, his arms crossed.

"fuck off, noah." i grumbled, searching for some clothes for the show tonight.

"not until you learn how to do your job right."

i rolled my eyes, retreating to the bathroom to go and get ready.

"i swear, it's like he lives to piss me off. doesn't he have anything better to do? like, i dunno, hook up with girls? make music? write lyrics? instead of fucking with me. it's annoying." i rambled to nicholas as i set up my camera, him standing beside me.

and then he suggested the most absurd thing ever.

"i dunno, [y/n], maybe he likes you."

i choked on nothing, my eyes widening. "are you insane? him? like me? never in a million years would that happen."

nicholas laughed softly. "i mean, the way he talks about you when you're not around says otherwise. it's always [y/n] this, [y/n] that. don't you see the way he stares at you when you're not looking? or how he put extra effort in when he knows you're gonna be closer to the stage?"

i stayed quiet. he kind of had a point. i never heard him speak about me or felt his stares, but i could tell that he always dressed nicer or sang better when i was closer.

maybe..

no. hell no. just because i had that stupid dream doesn't mean a thing. i hate him, he hates me. and that's final.

"you're delusional." i said.

"you're in denial." he retorted, walking off to go get ready for the show.

as i continued to set up, i felt a pair of eyes on me. i looked up briefly, noticing noah looking at me before he quickly looked away, going to talk with some girl.

why was i jealous? it's not like we were together. not like i liked him. not like i imagined a future with him every time my insomnia kept me awake at night.

whatever. it didn't matter.

NOAH'S POV.

i finished up my conversation with some random girl whose name i couldn't even remember. i didn't know why, but some part of me just yearned to make [y/n] jealous. to make her wish i was giving her all of my attention instead of giving it to others. i needed her to know how i felt. how i looked at her, how i yearned for her.

what am i saying? i don't like her. at all. she's cocky and stuck up and beautiful and funny and-

fuck.

i watched as she walked around the arena, humming to herself as she adjusted the settings on her camera, not paying a lick of attention to where she was going. a couple more steps and she would-

CRASH!

"ow! fuck!"

i scoffed, walking over to where she was sat on the ground, rubbing the back of her head.

"you good there, princess? looks like you fell." i smirked.

she rolled her eyes, pulling herself up to her feet. "i'm fine."

"you sure? you took quite the fall there." i said.

she smirked. "aww, are you showing actual human empathy for once?"

i scoffed. "keep dreaming. i can't afford to lose my photographer right now. do your job." i said, walking away.

the lights dimmed as we took the stage, the crowd's energy palpable. i stepped up to the microphone, my intense gaze sweeping over the audience. among the sea of faces, my eyes locked with hers, an unfamiliar spark igniting between the two of us.

"the sutures in my head keep getting ripped out. these open wounds are the thoughts i can't stop thinking about. digging for purpose, feelings resurface. and involuntarily my system gets nervous."

there was a crowd of people in the arena. our first sold out show ever. we just released our album Finding God Before God Finds Me a couple months ago, and for our first sold out show of the tour, i decided to add a couple songs from our very first album.

"tell me tonight that you'll be by yourself. cause something bad will happen if you are with someone else. i'm just all fucked up, and i really need your help. i really need your help."

i looked at [y/n] in the front row, snapping pictures. when she was so close to the stage, i always felt like i performed better. seeing her smile at nicholas, hearing her sing along to our songs. it gave me motivation. i closed my eyes.

"there's a lotta hollow souls out there all alone, and they're waiting for you to invite 'em back into my home. they touched and they took what was rightfully mine. now i'm the devil, and their souls just went up in price."

images of her face filled my mind as i sang. her smile, her scowl, her tears and her laughter. every part of her was gorgeous. every part of her made me fall in love deeper and deeper every day. why couldn't i admit these feelings?

"set me free, i think i'm giving up. don't wait for me, i think i've had enough. set me free, i think i'm giving up. don't wait for me, i've had enough, enough now"

right. i had bailey. my girlfriend. i wondered what she was doing right now. maybe sleeping or shopping or watching tv in our bed at home. even though i had her, part of me felt off. it didn't feel like she really loved me. everyone always tried to convince me to break up with her. but she's my girl. the love of my life, the woman i wanted to marry one day. right?

as we got back onto the bus, i came to a realization.

one, i wasn't happy with bailey. she was toxic, manipulative, and i was pretty sure she was cheating on me.

two, i was utterly, hopelessly in love with [y/n].

i laid on my bunk, wide awake with my thoughts swarming in my mind. i was in love with her. i was in love with another woman. what the hell was wrong with me?

"there's a thousand voices in my head. i just hope it doesn't take a rope around my neck to put them all to rest." i hummed to myself, scrolling on my phone.

"noah?" [y/n]'s voice spoke from her bunk, her head peeking out of the curtain. "i thought you went for drinks with the others."

"nope." i said. "i'm not in the mood."

she raised an eyebrow. "that's weird. why?"

i shrugged. "i'm thinking."

"about?"

"none of your business."

she rolled her eyes, mumbling something under her breath before retreating back to her bunk.

it was quiet for another moment before i spoke.

"hey, [y/n]?" i said quietly, not wanting to disturb her in case she had fallen asleep.

"what?"

i bit my lip. "what do i do if i'm in love with someone.. but i'm in a relationship?"

she peeked her head out again, raising an eyebrow. "break up with the girl, duh. don't lead her on if you're not interested anymore. that's a dick move." she said. "wait, don't tell me you're breaking up with bailey?"

i shrugged again. "i dunno yet."

"jesus, finally." she said, and i frowned. "first of all, don't say that. second, i said i don't know yet. i'm thinking."

she sighed. "noah, you know she's a shit person. she literally abuses you. she's a toxic, manipulative asshole. and if you're in love with another woman who you know can give you the love that you deserve, shoot your shot. don't sit there and suffer just because you don't want to hurt someone's feelings."

i wasn't sure why, but a small bit of rage filled my body at the way she spoke about bailey. "don't talk about her like that. that's not true. she's just doing what she knows is best for me." i said, and she scoffed.

"whatever you say."

"you're just jealous." i crossed my arms.

she raised her eyebrows. "of what? cause its definitely not her behaviour. or literally any aspect of her personality or life."

i laid back down, ignoring her for the rest of the ride. i knew she was right, but i hated to admit it. i loved bailey. she was all that i had.

when we first got together, everything was great. i swore that i would marry her one day. and then she started going out more and staying out later and sometimes i didn't feel like i could trust her. but i let it slide because bringing it up would just lead to arguments. i didn't want arguments.

but as her behaviour continued and i saw my friends in happy, loving relationships, i realized it wasn't normal. being treated like this wasn't normal, and it wasn't what i wanted. i wanted to be happy. feel loved.

i wanted to be loved by [y/n].

with a sigh and a slightly heavy heart, i texted bailey a long message.

'i want to start this off by saying i know what you did. i know what you've been doing behind my back for longer than i'd like to admit. i loved you bailey, i really did. but we can't be together anymore. i want things that you can't provide me. i know you've been cheating on me, and i let it go because we all make mistakes. but this is more than a mistake. please don't try to fight this, just accept it. you would rather sleep with multiple other men than be with me, and that's okay. i can't be what you need, and you can't be what i need. we weren't made for each other. this is goodbye.'

with tears in my eyes, i put on my headphones and put my phone on silent, blasting some music as i washed away these feelings that i didn't want to hit me at this moment. i hated being vulnerable. i'd cry it out when i was alone.

i sat in my bunk for the rest of the night, trying to fall asleep but i couldn't. instead, i drew in my notebook and wrote down the occasional lyric that popped into my mind.

'i'll flip it with you and me inside.'

'heaven know's i ain't gettin' over you.'

'thought you were somebody else.'

'no way to right these wrongs, either way i'm feeling, it might just cost something in the millions. i know that i can't resist.'

fuck. this was going to be good.

[thatstupidone]

Red Hood stopped at the Titans Tower, the place he knew his replacement would be. He had checked the logs, and security cameras, there was no way he wouldn't be here. Jason was going to teach the little birdie a lesson.

Except the kid wasn't there. In fact it looked like no ones been here in days. With a rage filled punch he ended up putting a large hole in the wall. The misty green anger clouding his better judgement as he stalked out the tower, ready to search all of Gotham for the replacement.

It wasn't until he was passing by one of the closed stores that he saw Robin in the reflection of the window. At least he thought he did, but when he took a second look there was nothing. Jason just continued his search, trying to get the image of Robin staring at him out of his head.

Jason didn't end up finding the replacement. Hell he couldn't even find anything that suggested the kid was even real! To add onto his problem he kept seeing the little shit at every turn. Jason was pretty sure he was going crazy.

He saw him in the shadows of the alleys. Saw him when he was meeting with some goons and making sure they followed his rules. Saw him when when he wasn't out as Red Hood. Everytime he was just staring at Jason, like he could see into his soul, but every time Jason tried getting a closer look he was gone the next second.

After a week he was almost close to just tracking down Bruce and forcing him to do something, because he couldn't be fuckin hallucinating all this! Items around him were starting to become misplaced, some money here, a book there. Even his bike was once moved!

What finally did it for him though was after he came back to one of his safe houses at midnight. The place was his most protected one. He just wanted coffee, but then the lights shut off. Immediately Jason reached for one of his guns, looking around, he swore he saw the kid in front of him. (And no, he didn't scream.) When the light turned back on no one was there.

The next night he found himself on the rooftops of Gotham. He had placed himself right in the middle of Bruce's patrol route, he was going to end this now.

"Red Hood." Batman greeted with a clipped voice.

Jason slowly reached for his helmet. He noticed how tense Bruce was, he was waiting for an attack, but this wasn't for that.

"Hey, B." He replied once the hood was off, the domino mask now the only thing covering his face. "I want you to tell the replacement to fucking stop this shit." He got right to the point.

Bruce gave him a confused hum, "Explain-"

So Jason did. He told him of how the little shit kept appearing and disappearing and that he was definitely doing it to mess with him and that there was going to be violent consequences if it didn't stop.

Silence settled over them after the threat before Bruce spoke again, confusion and concern lacing his voice. "Tim has been out of the city for the last week, on a mission. Are you okay Jason?"

"I know what I've been seeing! And I've looked everywhere- when I was, you know. Anyways I just want to he left the fuck alone! I don't even care about hurting him anymore!"

Jason didn't wait for Bruce to say anything else, making his exit. The entire conversation had him really starting to doubt if he was right or this really was some hallucination.

It wasn't until two days later that he saw the kid again. This time though, when he blinked, the kid was still there. Sitting in the kitchen of his safe house in his civvies, instead of the usual Robin outfit, and drinking fucking tea. He had the balls to turn to Jason with a smirk on his face!

This time when he went to punch his replacement he wasn't seeing green and fueled only by rage. He grunted as be fell to the floor after tripping into the now empty chair.

"You fucking bitch!" He screamed as he pulled himself up. Glaring at the teen. "You're lucky if I don't still decide to kill your fucking ass!!"

Tim just laughed. At first the idea was just to disappear until Red Hood stopped, but then he found out who the guy really was- and well Tim wasn't going to pass up on the perfect opportunity to mess with his former hero.

They played a little game of cat and mouse until Jason gave up in trying to hurt Tim, he honestly didn't even know if it was worth it now. He just made himself a cup of tea, along with another one for Tim as his cup got cold, and actually talk with him. It was odd, but not un welcomed.

It wasn't the last he saw of his idiot brother. Some times he would just pop up and disappear, other times he joined Jason for tea or even a meal. Jason swore he was going to catch his disappearing act one day, prove he wasn't just insane.

[marjoch]

FUTILE DEVICES

Jayce & Viktor attend a networking event. When Viktor leaves to catch his breath, he returns to find Jayce conversing with Mel. Viktor has a claim to stake.

“Are you ready?”

Dead of winter, Piltover. Partners in science Jayce and Viktor had been preparing for a networking event that occurred in the evening. Already dressed up, the pair of them had met in the lab to agree on any details they wanted to share with the people they would meet.

Jayce was the one who asked the question, walking alongside Viktor as they drew closer to the grand ballroom where the event was hosted. Viktor was hoping to stay by Jayce’s side most of the night, already overthinking the possibilities of conversation topics that could arise. “Ready,” was his simple response.

The doors were open, and someone was manning it. Viktor took note of the enforcers on either side of the entrance. Jayce was more focused on getting inside. He was immediately greeted by someone Viktor didn’t recognize, assumedly a diplomat or a politician.

“Jayce Talis! It’s been too long.”

“You could say that again,” was the response. Viktor took the moment to look around the ballroom. He’d been in here before, briefly, years prior. He’d never seen it in this context, hosting an event of this scale. The lights were bright overhead, illuminating a crowd twice the size he expected. Then again, he hadn’t been sure what to expect.

A hand on his back brought him back to the conversation. “—and this is my partner, Viktor,” Jayce was introducing.

The stranger extended a hand to Viktor, who shook it.

Jayce continued on. “We’ve got a lot of people to talk to, but hopefully we can reconnect before the night is over. We have some breakthroughs I’d love to share.”

“I look forward to it,” said the stranger. Viktor had missed his name in his distraction, and it was too late to ask, especially now that the stranger was walking away.

Jayce looked to Viktor. “Doing okay?”

Viktor wasn’t sure how aware Jayce was of his hesitations to be here, so he nodded. “Of course.”

They moved on. Jayce was having a great time gliding through the ballroom, stopping to speak to every face he recognized, introducing Viktor and explaining their work to whomever inquired. On the other hand, Viktor was holding it together being dragged from place to place and remembering far too many names to count.

At some point between ten and fifteen various conversations, Viktor was faltering. He was growing tired of moving around, his chest felt tight from anxiety, and he was counting the minutes until it was over. As Jayce said goodbye to someone and immediately waved at another from across the room, Viktor remained still. “Jayce.”

His partner turned to him, attentive.

“I’m going to find a bathroom. You go on.”

Jayce nodded, touching Viktor’s shoulder. “Okay. Come find me when you’re done?”

Viktor mirrored his nod. Jayce went his own way, drifting through the sea of bodies. Viktor watched him go, then turned around, heading out of the crowd.

The noise was worse without Jayce around. The constant talking, a hundred voices layered over one other in a horrible symphony. He’d never liked events like this. He’d gone to just one before, as Heimerdinger’s assistant, and he left early. This wasn’t something he could escape, though — he didn’t want to leave Jayce alone.

There was one thing he did know about this place, and it was where to find the bathroom. He’d ventured to it several times during the night he was here before, finding it was the best escape from the volume of the main ballroom. Right outside the bathroom was the perfect safe space: a comfortable bench up against the marble wall, shrouded by plants. It was almost a secret hideaway, one he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to return to.

Now that he had, he found a seat and rested his head back. The ceiling was just as ornate as the floors, etched with gold. He breathed, counting the seconds like he’d been coached by a kind stranger once upon a time. Within a few moments, the pain in his chest slowly subsided, and his heart rate returned to normal.

Feeling better was one thing. Returning to the event was another. He remained in his hiding spot until it was invaded by an excitable couple who decided mingling was second to doting on each other.

He set on finding Jayce, then. It was easier said than done, on account of Jayce’s constant movement. Viktor admired his ability to participate in conversation despite his introversion. Jayce told him once it was easier to behave extrovertedly in a professional setting, but Viktor wasn’t sure if he thought that was true.

Finally! On a balcony at the back of the room, Viktor spotted him. He made a beeline for Jayce, avoiding eye contact with anyone else to prevent from being stopped. As he got closer, he could see that Jayce was in the middle of a conversation with one person Viktor did recognize: councilor Mel Medarda.

Truth to be told, there was no reason for Viktor to dislike her. She carried herself with grace, she spoke with dignity, she even helped their cause in the past. She was a supporter of their work, and she’d done nothing to wrong Viktor in any way. Viktor had many thoughts on the matter, one of them being that he got the impression she supported Jayce, not the both of them.

Regardless of how true or untrue his assumptions were, he was behaving as if they were fact. He didn’t like the idea of someone taking up Jayce’s attention in the way she did. Viktor saw the way he looked at her, the way he spoke about her when she wasn’t around. It was everything he desired for himself.

Arriving at the scene, Viktor interrupted. “Councilor,” he nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence without any further conversation. He stood close to Jayce, close enough for their shoulders to touch if either of them swayed.

Jayce looked at his partner, and smiled. “I’m glad you’re back. I was just telling Mel about our discoveries with hextech.”

So not only were they on a first-name basis, but Jayce was sharing information they hadn’t told anyone else. At this point in time, their innovations with hextech were concepts, something they’d barely given a name. They had not discussed disclosing this when they debriefed earlier.

He played it off well enough. “What did you think?” Viktor asked Mel.

“I think it has potential,” was her response. She never took her eyes off of Jayce, save for a fleeting glance. Viktor wasn’t unaware of the way she tended to look at Jayce when she was speaking to the both of them. “It’s ambitious, but don’t most important discoveries start off as such?”

Jayce opened his mouth to speak, but not before Viktor got a word in. “Ambition is the driving factor of all sociological improvements. Without it, these projects would never make it past the drawing board.”

Jayce looked back to Viktor. Viktor’s gaze remained trained forward, not looking away from Mel, who seemed focused on Jayce. Therefore it was a triangle of attention: confusion, tension, and intrigue, respectively.

“What my partner means to say is that we’re dedicated to this. We’ve spent countless hours getting to the point where we can share this with you, and will continue doing so to maintain your support.”

“You impressed me from the beginning, Jayce Talis,” was Mel’s response. “If not with wits, then with determination.” She moved forward, and Jayce made space between him and Viktor for her to pass. On her way through, she put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “I’m always willing to hear about your discoveries. You know where to find me.”

She disappeared behind them. Both of them watched her go, Jayce mesmerized, and Viktor irritated. Due to his detachment of her character, he ended up looking at Jayce before his partner was finished watching her silhouette blend into the crowd.

“Jayce.”

That earned his attention. “Viktor. What was that?” He sounded as irritated as Viktor felt.

“I should ask you the same,” was Viktor’s quick response. “We never agreed to share these findings with anyone yet. You didn’t even mention it to me.”

“It just came out,” Jayce argued. “If anyone should know, it’s her. She’s an asset as an ally.”

“You assume,” Viktor snapped. “Science is valuable. There are those who wish to capitalize off of-”

“You think Mel would do that?”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I think Councilor Medarda has motivations, like everyone else.”

Jayce sighed loudly. “I don’t understand why you don’t like her.”

“It’s not that I don’t like her, I just…” Viktor trailed off as two other people walked out on the balcony, seeking a quieter place to converse. He shook his head. “We can finish this conversation later.”

“We can finish it now. I’m done here, if you’re ready to go.”

Viktor had no complaints, and no further words until they were outside. He took the lead this time, guiding them back out through the crowd. Once they were out the front doors, he confessed, “I was just waiting until you wanted to leave.”

“Sorry,” Jayce said, more sarcastic than genuine. Viktor knew it was because both of them understood this event was necessary to make connections that could further their research, and garner more support from the outside.

“I’m going back to the lab,” was Viktor’s next response.

Jayce raised an eyebrow. “Now? It’s late.”

“And there’s work to be done,” Viktor said.

“You should get some sleep.”

“You don’t have to come with me.”

Jayce, of course, was going with him. The rest of their walk was silent, with Jayce racking his brain to make sense of Viktor’s reaction at the event, and Viktor imagining what it would be like to have Jayce on his side all the time. When they arrived at the lab, Viktor wasted no time getting to work.

Jayce couldn’t comprehend Viktor’s level of determination. Each time he thought Viktor would hit his limit, reach a point where he needed sleep, falter in his pacing of problem-solving… he was proven wrong. Now was no exception.

“Will you pass me my notes?” requested Viktor, standing in front of the board.

Jayce obliged, but was far more focused on the subject they’d left hanging. “Why don’t you like Mel?”

Viktor looked over his notes, facing the board but reading through them. Conversing while he was working was an easy multitask for him. He’d mastered it since starting to work with Jayce. “Why do you like her?”

He refused to call her by her first name. They were not close enough for him to earn the right, and he wasn’t going to do it behind her back. Plus, speaking her name invoked an additional awareness of the fact that she existed, and the mere thought was grating on Viktor’s nerves.

Jayce scoffed, but the prolonged silence before his answer spoke for itself. “I told you, she’s an asset as an ally, and she’s one of the only supporters we have on the council.”

“That’s not true,” Viktor said, turning. “Heimerdinger knows of our work, and waits for a demonstration. A goal we should be working towards.”

“A goal we are working towards,” Jayce spoke. Viktor hated the conviction in his voice. Well, he loved it, in another context. Now, it seemed like they were in a silent battle: Yes Mel versus No Mel. It was a position Viktor didn’t enjoy being in.

“Okay,” said Viktor, looking back at his notes and facing the board again.

Jayce sighed, watching him. “Viktor.”

“Hm?” Viktor was feigning focus on the notes, completely distracted by his blood boiling at the very thought of Jayce with another. Not fazed, Jayce walked over and took the notebook out of his hands.

“Jayce.” Viktor’s tone was clearly irritated, a reflection of his internal feelings.

“Come on, you have to talk to me. We’re partners.”

“Are we?” said Viktor. He was asking with the intention of suggesting they were partners in more than a scientific sense, but it flew over Jayce’s head, as most of Viktor’s suggestions of this sort did.

Jayce looked confused. While he spent seconds thinking about Viktor’s insinuations, Viktor took the notebook back and started working. Finally, Jayce had a question. “In what sense?”

Viktor close the notebook. “Asking real questions now.” He faced Jayce. “Do you like her?”

Jayce just laughed, but Viktor could tell he was nervous. That gave him the answer he needed, and he pushed the notebook to Jayce’s chest, turning back to the board.

“Take notes for me.”

Jayce hurried back to the desk. His immediate obedience earned Viktor’s gaze, but only when his back was turned. Viktor had been supposedly working the whole time when Jayce returned, pen in hand.

Viktor raised a hand to start solving the problem before them, one of many they’d had to work out. Jayce had the pen at the ready, prepared to write, when Viktor turned again. “You never answered my question.”

“Sure, I guess,” Jayce responded, almost afraid to admit the truth.

Viktor nodded. “Alright.”

Back to work. The back-and-forth was killing Jayce, who sighed loudly, a dramatic act. “I mean, she’s beautiful. She’s intelligent, and she’s an ally.”

“You have to stop using that word.” Viktor’s back was facing Jayce. “Ally.”

“It’s not untrue. She’s been there since the beginning, or did you forget she’s the reason we made it this far?”

“That doesn’t mean you have to fall in love with her,” said Viktor.

“As if love is a choice.”

Viktor agreed with that sentiment. There was no reason for him to find love in a science partner, someone who worked with him professionally. When he really thought about it, Jayce’s feelings for Mel were almost literarily equivalent to his for Jayce. It wasn’t something he wanted to admit unprompted, though. “You’re right about that.”

That gave Jayce some hope. Maybe Viktor had something going on with someone else, and seeing the ease between him and Mel was setting him off. “Who’s on your mind?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Viktor started to solve the problem, but then sighed in frustration and started over. His second try wielded worse results, if possible, and he tossed the chalk onto the ledge the board had at the bottom. Crossing his arms, he faced Jayce. “Does she like you the same?”

Jayce shrugged. “We haven’t really talked about it.”

Viktor nodded, looking at the floor, thoughts ruminating. His eyes met Jayce’s when he had something to say. “And there’s no one else on your mind?”

Jayce raised an eyebrow, oblivious as always.

Viktor was tired of waiting. Due to the proximity of Jayce’s dedication to document Viktor’s work, they were already close. He reached out for Jayce’s collar and pulled him closer.

He didn’t kiss him, yet. He only wanted Jayce to understand.

“Oh,” said Jayce, barely audible. Viktor could see the pieces falling together through the look in his eyes.

“Oh,” echoed Viktor, nodding. “I hate seeing you with her like that. I’m right here.”

With those words, Jayce made sense of it. “I think about it, too.”

He didn’t have the space to say anything else, because Viktor committed to the moment. Before Jayce could register Viktor moving, they were engaged in a brief kiss. Viktor didn’t want to drag him along until Jayce was sure, though, and this surety came in the form of a brief break.

Viktor looked up into Jayce’s eyes, and Jayce just gazed down at him. There was no thinking, just the attempt, and imminent lack thereof. In lieu of words, Jayce leaned back in, slow enough for Viktor to close the gap, which he did.

This kiss was much longer, and held deeper meaning. It was their first opportunity to explore each other, and they utilized it. Tongue on tongue, hands on arms, neck, hair, waist. Jayce tossed the notebook somewhere to their left to focus fully on Viktor, who was pleased to see that Jayce was equally intrigued by the prospect of furthering the depth of their relationship.

Jayce came up for air. Viktor had a steel grip on the back of his neck, asking a much-pondered question. “Do you dream about me?”

Jayce just laughed. It was a beautiful sound, but it didn’t answer his question. The truth was, Viktor had dreamt about Jayce for months. Each night when he fell asleep, he wished that Jayce would dream the same, just to make it even. It wasn’t fair for him to feel all the longing that could be split between them both. “Maybe.”

When Jayce leaned in for another kiss after that, Viktor leaned back. “Maybe?”

“Yes,” said Jayce, almost immediately. Viktor let him win, but the kiss was too short for Jayce, made clear by a disappointed huff when Viktor pulled away again.

That made Viktor smirk, just the slightest. He had a hold on Jayce, both physically and mentally. Viktor’s gaze wandered, from Jayce’s eyes to his lips, neck, even his chest, belt, before making their way back up again.

“Viktor,” Jayce said, a prompt that he was waiting.

“Jayce,” returned Viktor, allowing their short distance apart to fester. He wanted to see how long Jayce could go without engaging in another kiss.

In an effort to get Viktor to make the move, Jayce spoke his name again. “Viktor.”

Not giving up that easily, Viktor just smiled. “Jayce.”

That was all it took. Jayce’s hands found either side of Viktor’s face and pulled him in so hard that Viktor practically fell into him. Both hands up against Jayce’s chest, his cane clattered to the floor. Before his arms could reach up around Jayce’s neck for support, Jayce moved to grab his waist. “I’ve got you,” he murmured against Viktor’s lips, in-between the heated kiss.

Viktor could hardly repress a smile, knowing he had Jayce exactly where he wanted. Now that he was supported, he let his hands roam. There were so many things about Jayce to like, and one of them was his body, which Viktor had fantasized about more times than he would admit.

Lost in the moment, they continued on. They were voyagers in an unknown landscape, each of them discovering the other. At some point, Viktor’s urgency rivaled Jayce’s, and Jayce stumbled back. Before either of them knew what was happening, they were tumbling to the floor.

Jayce ended up underneath Viktor, both accidental and ideally strategic. He broke Viktor’s fall, an appreciated gesture, but hit his own head back on the ground. Viktor immediately put his hand upon the point of contact, cradling Jayce’s head from where he now laid on top of him.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked.

“I’m okay,” Jayce reassured, before pulling Viktor’s face down to his lips.

Viktor adjusted his position, straddling Jayce and leaning down. Some minutes into their make-out, he interrupted. When he spoke, his lips touched Jayce’s, indicative of their closeness. “Is this uncomfortable? You’re on the floor.”

Jayce shook his head just the slightest, enough to emphasize his denial but not enough to separate them. “Are you comfortable?”

“I’m comfortable,” said Viktor.

“Good,” responded Jayce, initiating the kiss again.

God, it was everything he’d ever wanted. He couldn’t hide a moan of satisfaction if he wanted to, and upon hearing his affirmation, Jayce allowed his own. It was almost too much, turning Viktor from a scientist into something else entirely.

Jayce’s hands wandered, from Viktor’s face to his shoulders, eventually his waist, and even thumbs hooking into his waistband. Viktor let him, even allowing Jayce to go so far as to fiddle with the buttons that kept his pants together. When Jayce tried to undo it, Viktor stopped him, reaching for his hand.

“No,” Viktor said. “Let me do it.”

Jayce sighed, disappointed. The act earned another smile from Viktor, one that Jayce could feel against his lips.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Viktor remarked, knowing good and well what Jayce’s response would be.

“No, go on,” was the response. Viktor hesitated, one hand on Jayce’s cheek, the other halfway down his chest. The halt in motion made Jayce look up into Viktor’s eyes, and Viktor raised an eyebrow. Jayce sighed again, impatient. “Please?”

Viktor nodded, acknowledging the request, and kissed him again, letting his hand resume its path from Jayce’s chest to his belt. Before setting to work on it, he ventured even lower, feeling Jayce through his pants.

“God, Viktor,” Jayce groaned through their kiss.

“Shut up,” said Viktor, using his other hand to grasp Jayce’s chin, kissing him deeper than before. He wasn’t done messing with Jayce, continuing his quest to rile him up. When Jayce moaned again, he stopped all semblance of movement, save for their lips.

Jayce wasn’t amused, hips moving to try and simulate Viktor’s touch in its absence.

Viktor broke away from the kiss. “Jayce.”

“Viktor,” was the quick and breathless response. Viktor hid his excitability well, sitting up slightly and looking down at Jayce.

“Are you going to listen to me?”

Jayce nodded agreeably, and waited. When there was no response, he spoke. “Yes,” he acknowledged verbally. All it took was Viktor waiting for him to add, “Please.”

Viktor kissed him again, moving his hand, and then setting to work on Jayce’s pants. His shirt had to come untucked first, and Jayce did the same favor for him. Viktor got through the belt, into the pants Jayce was wearing, and paused again right before his hand made it all the way in. “You’re mine. Not hers.”

Jayce nodded again, urgently.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours, not hers,” Jayce said, without hesitation. “Only yours. Please, Viktor.”

Satisfied by that response, Viktor kissed him again, moving on. He liked to kiss Jayce through these moments, because it made it easier to tell exactly how Jayce felt. It was impossible to hide the hitches in his breath, the smallest slightest moans. Now was no different.

Viktor wanted him badly, but playing with Jayce was a kind of game. Seeing Jayce with Mel fueled some sort of animal in him, a possessive creature that was determined to stake his claim. This was his method.

His hands left Jayce, reaching down to work on his own pants. Jayce seems keen on helping, kissing Viktor fervently but moving his hands down to assist. Viktor paused his own efforts, pinning Jayce’s hands above him. “No,” he said again.

Jayce was frustrated at this point, shifting under him in an attempt to acquire the friction he missed.

Viktor laughed quietly. “You want me?”

Jayce sighed, almost irritated. “Obviously.”

Viktor just watched him. He didn’t have to say anything else to earn a response; the lack of action was enough.

“Please,” said Jayce, giving in. Whatever Viktor asked for in this moment, he would give him.

To be honest, Viktor had been the subject of Jayce’s dreams as much as it was the opposite. Jayce had awoken some mornings dazed, wondering how he could possibly go into the lab and face Viktor without any hints of what his mind imagined the night before. It was all irrelevant now that Viktor had him in this position.

Viktor listened to his pleads, making quick work of anything separating them. He touched Jayce carefully, slowly, paying attention to the way Jayce gasped, faltered, faced the ceiling in moments when he would otherwise be captivated by Viktor’s kiss. He leaned down to Jayce, bypassing his mouth for his ear while he was overcome. “Are you ready?” He whispered, a distant echo of Jayce at the beginning of the evening.

Jayce’s nod was all he required before Viktor continued to have the lead, guiding Jayce inside him, taking it slowly and exhaling in satisfaction while he adjusted. Jayce was louder than he was, much to Viktor’s amusement. They had yet to go further, and this is how he had him.

Slow but steady movements. Viktor was fully in control, and Jayce wasn’t raising any argument about it. If anything, he was in support, his hands finding Viktor’s hips.

Viktor’s hands were on Jayce’s chest, using him as a prop while he did the work for both of them. When Viktor could barely control his breathing, head thrown back skyward, Jayce thought he was the most captivating sight he’d experienced in his twenty-seven years of life.

At some point, one of Jayce’s hands reached up to Viktor’s face. His partner read his desire in the act, and leaned down to kiss him, elevating their experience. Each and every sound out of Jayce’s mouth was a part of the choir living in Viktor’s mind. He’d lived this before a hundred times in his dreams.

The near-silence in the room (apart from themselves) was imperceivable to either of them, each living their own symphony. Jayce could hardly believe his luck: this was the last thing he’d expected to occur, yet the first thing he’d desired.

On the other hand, Viktor could hardly believe this was the point they’d gotten to. He’d wanted Jayce for years, and to have heard his pleads not once, not twice, but quarce… he was almost pondering how many times he could get it out of him.

In his curiosity, Viktor broke the kiss, continuing the act they were partaking in without their lips touching. He hovered above Jayce, yet again pinning his arm above his head. The hand that was on his hip was fine to remain where it was, but anything beyond, he was determined to control in an attempt to hear Jayce again.

Jayce was already frustrated again by the restraint. It made Viktor more excitable, something Jayce would have noticed if he wasn’t so preoccupied with his own physical feelings.

Back to the game, as always. Viktor slowed their pace and leaned down, choosing to let go of Jayce’s arm, only to guide him back to his own hips. His lips lingered just above Jayce’s, close enough to touch within the constant motion. He purposefully kept them from connecting, and Jayce sensed it.

“Please, Viktor,” Jayce murmured.

Five times, then. Viktor gave into him, kissing him softly at first, intensifying it as he picked up the pace again. Jayce was bewitched, completely lost to anything apart from Viktor… just the way his partner wanted it.

The closer they got, the sweeter the kiss tasted. There was no scientific differentiation from the first kiss to now, apart from the feelings they shared for each other and the feelings they invoked through this behavior.

“You’re mine,” Viktor’s words were quiet against Jayce’s lips. “Not hers.”

“I’m yours,” Jayce responded, with a moan so loud that Viktor briefly considered the fact that they may be louder than intended. Who was nearby at this hour of the night, though? No one except for the two of them.

Viktor continued on, getting to the point where he couldn’t mess with Jayce anymore. The pleasure shared between them was too great for him to carry on. Jayce noticed this shift and moved his hand back up to Viktor’s face, brushing his thumb against his partner’s cheek.

Eyes closed, Viktor focused on keeping the motion going. His hand found Jayce’s on his waist, gripping his wrist tightly. He exhaled, heavy, and Jayce thought it was beautiful.

A slightly faster pace and opposite hand fully on Jayce’s chest steadied Viktor closer to the end he was bringing both of them towards. A minute or two into this, Jayce put both of his hands back on Viktor’s hips, assisting where Viktor wouldn’t let him before.

“Jayce,” Viktor began, about to complain about losing total control, but unable to get further than his partner’s name before an uncontrollable gasp interrupted his train of thought.

“Let me help,” Jayce insisted.

Those words alone brought Viktor back to the determination he’d had before. He was not about to give up on singlehandedly getting Jayce off, especially not after the dispute they’d had about Mel. He didn’t stop Jayce, but he maintained the pace, and therefore the control. He only faltered as he got close, leaning down to kiss Jayce again.

Jayce moaned against his lips, giving Viktor validation in his attempts. He could sense the end in sight and powered through, not letting up for a second. At some point near the finish line, Jayce gripped his hips tighter, and Viktor sensed the change. In an effort to prolong his own pleasure, he slowed the pace down.

“Viktor,” Jayce nearly immediately complained. “Please.”

Who was he to deny him? He returned to what he’d been doing before, much to Jayce’s approval. The obviously audible crescendo of sounds from Jayce was worth each moment leading up to this point. It wasn’t like he wasn’t getting off, either — he was having a great time, and he was on rhythm to finish with Jayce.

It worked out just as intended. Viktor felt himself nearing a climax and held out until he succeeded, hearing Jayce’s corresponding audible cue that he was also done. As if he couldn’t feel it.

When all was said and done, they were left with heavy breathing, shared sweat, and a laugh from Jayce as Viktor took a spot next to him on the floor. Viktor had a hand over his eyes, both shading from the light and from Jayce’s gaze. Jayce turned to watch him.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” he said.

Viktor turned to look at Jayce, then. “You don’t mean that.”

Jayce just smiled, reaching over to push a strand of hair out of Viktor’s face. “Whatever you want. I’m your partner.”

The look in Viktor’s eyes was some mix of satisfaction and disbelief, a feeling that getting what one wants often entails. There was comfort in knowing he’d achieved what he desired, but fear in the possibility of loss.

Jayce pulled him into an embrace, then, as much as an embrace as they could share on the actual floor. They didn’t have to exchange words to come to an agreement, one that Viktor couldn’t let live long before his own thoughts interrupted.

Viktor refastened his pants, sitting up and searching for his shirt, which was nearby. In his efforts to get rid of their clothing, the pile had remained close enough. “We should get some sleep.”

Jayce mirrored him, sitting up and hunting for the clothes he’d lost. He pulled them back on, but barely: the shirt unbuttoned, same with the vest he had been wearing, tie hung around his neck. No amount of disbelief could keep Viktor’s longing away.

Jayce stood, and picked up Viktor’s cane. Then and only then did he extend a hand to help his partner up, setting him up for success and support. Viktor was grateful despite his lack of explicit expression towards the matter.

“You can stay with me,” Viktor offered. He lived closer than Jayce, and he missed their closeness from before. “If you want.”

Jayce wanted. He nodded eagerly, and motioned to the door, prepared to follow Viktor out. Viktor led the way, abandoning the work he’d gone back to do. There was always tomorrow, right?

The pair of them individually sorted through their thoughts about the night. These ruminations came to a close when they made it to Viktor’s, laid down next to each other, and drifted to sleep. When Viktor woke, Jayce was holding him, just as he’d always envisioned to help him sleep during the rough nights.

[anaphoraholic]

Seen anti shippers grow too comfortable about spreading hate

I mean that was always a thing but they have become increasingly more violent and fetishistic of violence, as a non American they sound like people who are obsessed with gun rights, if that makes any sense?

and the most frightening thing is that they’re all teenagers. Teenagers who don’t really enjoy fandoms, but who have to be performative activists to feel included and who are socially and emotionally neglected otherwise.

I can think of a few reasons why this is happening

Kid friendly spaces disappearing (both online and offline)

the shift in political climate (fandom is not an isolated universe)

overexposure to sexual things through mainstream media (streamers and streaming services, music)

Parents not teaching their children internet safety anymore

the implementation of the SESTA/FOSTA laws

What do you think?

I'm not super educated on what the SESTA/FOSTA laws are, but outside of that I wholly agree with this take! I think the point about performative, fictional activism was really well said =)

fandom no longer being as isolated as before is definitely a big reason from my perspective; over the course of the pandemic, areas of the internet that had previously been dedicated to more specific groups of people and neglected by the majority (like fandom) became mainstream. the lines between what should go where on the internet became blurred in general.

with everyone stuck inside, politics was among most other things that became discussed almost entirely online (and intensely so). Overloaded algorithms continued to serve more and more political/activist content (which, due to the nature of the internet, generated less-complex discussion than real-life conversation); I think this, along with the blurring of the "what goes where" lines, was chiefly responsible for allowing that social-media brand of overly-simplified, performative activism to permeate almost every online space. Of course, this includes fandom, and with so many young minds being confined to this online world during critical developmental periods (as well as with lessened internet-safety measures given by tired parents who weren't sure how to handle a global pandemic), mirroring highly-polarized, performative-activist behavior in fandom became commonplace.

a lot of it likely also had to do with people more immersed in common, mainstream media suddenly being plunged into the previously more underground world of fandom. there was (and still is) a lot of history and culture regarding fandom spaces that provides essential context for what goes on in them; because fandom has historically been a safe space for nerdier/geekier "outcasts" and a haven for things deemed "unsightly" or "impure" by society at large, those used to mainstream, "normal" things were shocked and in some cases horrified by what they uncovered. having so many others that were currently sharing in that experience gave weight to the idea that fandom should change to accommodate these kinds of newcomers, instead of promoting an ease-in and learn-as-you-go approach to new online spaces, as might have automatically occurred in the past.

It is, as is typical for me, 1 am as I'm writing this, so I hope it's not too incoherent 😭 anyways, thank you Anon for the very insightful ask! Feel free to drop by again if you'd like to reply or expand on any of your points ^^

[backseatsoldier]

No Mercy - Prolog

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x OC (Bex)

CW: mental & emotional abuse committed by family members; toxic family members; military inaccuracies (though I am asking those I know who have been in the military about their experiences-)

Author's Note: Welcome to the story of my only military OC! If you'd like to be on the tag list, drop a comment and I'll get one started for the first chapter <3

18 years old/Two Days After Graduation...

"You're such a selfish bitch, Becca."

"Go suck Darian's cock so I don't have to listen to you whine, Hannah," Bex sighs as she zips up her suitcase.

The tension in the air thickens with Bex's comment, but she pays no mind to it. Instead she simply lifts her suitcase from her the bed and turns to face her twin. Hannah's face is twisted in anger and offense.

"I would never-"

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I'm sure you won't have problems with pathological lying later in life, sis," Bex tells her flatly. "Now move so I can leave. My ride will be here soon."

"You're really doing this? You're really abandoning us all for... for what? To play soldier?" Hannah's face twists into an expression of hurt.

But Bex sees right through it, as she always has.

"I'm leaving to start my own life. Move," she says more firmly this time.

Hannah's expression goes cold, but she steps to the side of the doorway. As Bex passes her, she grabs Bex's arm to stop her.

"Don't expect Mom and Daddy to welcome you back with open arms when you fail, Rebecca," Hannah hisses in her twin's ear. Then her grip on Bex's arm is gone. "And neither will I."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bex returns with a bright smile then makes her way out of the room, head held high, prepared for a new life.

First Month of Basic...

Basic training is hell, as expected. It's nothing Bex will allow to drag her down, though.

"What's your plans after basic?" Private Burran asks from her bunk, sweet but exhausted smile on her face as she looks around at the other women in the room.

"Die in a world over," someone scoffs to Bex's left and Private Burran frowns in response.

"Don't you have like... different military jobs you'd like to pursue? I, for example, am getting into Microwave Communications!" Private Burran announces proudly.

"Ah, so you're a tech nerd," Private Charles chuckles as she leans against her and Private Burran's bunk with her arms crossed.

Their conversation continues but Bex tunes them out. She's not here to make friends; she's here to learn to do her damn job.

"What about you, Private Morgan?"

Bex sits up to look at the others. They each look at her expectantly and Bex sighs.

"Active duty, wherever I fit best. Would prefer to do something undercover, honestly," she admits.

There's a ripple of whispers through the other women and Bex raises and eyebrow at them.

"Don't you like... come from some rich, old money family?" Private Irens asks hesitantly, toying with the edge of her jacket sleeve.

"Why does that matter?" Bex asks, tone defensive as she sits up on her elbows.

"We're all on the same page. You'll have an advantage with getting through to anything you want because of your connections," Private Charles clarifies and shifts her weight to stand up straight.

"If you must know," Bex addresses them all with a stunning smile and everyone's shoulders stiffen. "I cut off all of my family," Bex hisses as her smile fades to a scowl. "Fuck off, all of you," she grumbles as she pushes out of her bunk and storms out of the barracks.

26 Years Old/Five Months ago...

In a small, noisy cafe in who-knows-where, two people sit together at a table. The woman has a laptop bag at her feet, strap wrapped around her ankle. The man stares out the open window next to them, cigar in hand.

"Top of her squad in basic training," the woman praises.

"What does she specialize in?" the man asks while puffing on a cigar.

"You asked for an undercover operative, Price," she points out flatly.

"Was she top of her platoon, though? I need the best, Laswell," Price counters.

"Second best."

"Why not bring me the number one then?" Price takes a drag from his cigar. Laswell waits for him to exhale before responding.

"Died on a recent mission. So, technically, she is number one."

Laswell slides a manila folder onto the table and holds eye contact with Price as he takes another puff. With a sigh, cigar smoke swirling in the air between them, he reaches for the folder and opens it.

"Sergeant First Class Rebecca Morgan, hm? The hell kind of callsign is 'BSS'?" he mumbles as he scans the first paper inside the folder.

"You'll have to ask her yourself, sir," Laswell says with a smirk. "She's waiting for you on base."

No Mercy Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

[stilesstlinski]

‘Jekyll and Hyde’ wasn’t the most sensitive way to describe Void, but it certainly was accurate, so Stiles appreciated the honesty behind her question. “Yeah. But it’s more than that, y’know?” He glanced down with a sigh, noting that his hands were no longer trembling. Talking to Rose was proving a good distraction, as he’d theorised. She didn’t tiptoe around difficult subjects, or tell Stiles what he wanted to hear, instead of what he needed. He owed her the same in response. “Ever since I died it’s just gotten worse. The not sleeping, the jumpiness. Constantly feeling like something terrible is going to happen, again. It’s like drowning. Do you ever feel like that?” She seemed so put together, but perhaps Rose was better at hiding her anxiety. Or maybe he was right, maybe it was just him. She hadn’t come back with an evil alter ago, after all.

“I don’t, actually.” Stiles interjected quickly, before she continued. It was important to him that she realised he valued her opinion. If he didn’t, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation. He sat in silence from that point, letting her speak her piece. Unfortunately, she wasn’t saying anything he wasn’t already aware of. His relationship with Scott had been strained for months, and it was doing Stiles no favours. Without his brother, his panic attacks were more frequent, as was his loneliness. He felt like half of a whole person, especially considering the pack bond caused it to become a very physical absence. “Yeah. Yeah I know,” he replied, lips pressing together. 

Deep down, Stiles knew that Scott valued him a great deal, and loved him. But his own insecurities and jealousy were hard to dig through, and often in his need for reassurance, Stiles only pushed Scott further away. He hated feeling as though he were competing for his brother’s attention, or becoming a burden. His distrust ruled him, too, finding Scott’s new friends hard to accept. “I just need some time first. I think he does, too.” Alexandria was already proving to be hard work, and there were far more people that needed Scott’s time and assistance. Stiles could fly solo until the dust settled, more than used to his own suffering. “He’s better equipped than everyone, that’s why he’s in such high demand.” Still, Rose had offered her own shoulder, so he wasn’t entirely alone. “We’ll fix it. I’ll — fix it. Just not yet.”

“And you didn’t feel like that before?” Stiles questioned, genuinely intrigued now. Not only was Rose feeling the lack; Dean was, too. Maybe they really did need their bonded counterparts to feel healthy. “I feel sick and tired all the time. Constantly, since I came back.” He nodded, feeling more motivated to find whoever the girl was now, so he could prove their hypothesis. Stiles also found himself wondering why there was distance between Rose and Wanda now, and if the reason related to his own experience with Caroline. Wanda didn’t seem like the unforgiving type, especially in consideration of the circumstances. They’d had no choice, after all. “We need to find out more about who we are. There’s gotta’ be more to us than automatic killing machines.”

“Apparently,” Stiles said, laughing at his own misfortune. His rebirth had been one mystery he hadn’t been able to resolve, yet, and it was driving him insane. He hated the uncertainty, the not knowing. If he could figure it out, he could help himself, and the others, too. Stiles was desperate for the connection that she was describing, so he could truly begin to decipher which issues stemmed from what. His species, his bonded partner, the pack, or his own personality. With so many emotions and voices in his mind, it was no wonder why he constantly felt strung out. 

Rose continued on with her explanation, but in a very sudden rush of fear and adrenaline, Stiles lost all focus. Her speech began to seemingly blur together, no longer understandable. The hands which she’d comfortingly held a moment ago began to viciously shake again, and despite his own confusion, Stiles was certain this wasn’t his own doing. Talking to Rose had eased his worries, and given him some clarity, so this could only be a result of one of the aforementioned stressors. His heart felt as though it were going to pound through his chest, and his saliva started to taste metallic. No, not metallic. It tasted like blood. 

“Rose -” Stiles reached for her, fingers erratically scraping along the table that separated them. By the time he’d gotten close, his vision was gone entirely. “Oh, fu —” His mind followed a second later, transported into that of someone else, and Stiles’ body fell sideward out of his chair, collapsing onto the floor below.

Rose pouted at the sarcasm, but refrained from rolling her eyes, used to it from him by now. Still, it was hard to tell how honest he was being underneath the attitude, thus how concerned she should be. She hadn’t known him for his whole life, after all. But considering the explanation that came after, Rose decided to trust in the sarcasm. Besides, she’d never seen him this jumpy before. Irritable, yes, but not visibly shaking for a prolonged period of time. “Are you talking about your… uh, ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ thing?” It was the softest way she could think of to word it. Rose had a feeling she was right, of course, but wanted total clarity to help get to the bottom of it. 

As if exampling that very same intuition, her suspicion about the continued rockiness of Scott and Stiles’ relationship proved true. Rose frowned, unsettled to hear it anyway, gaze full of concern. “Stiles… I know you probably think I’m full of shit most of the time, but I need you to listen to me now. You two have to work this crap out, stat. It’s not helping you, and I know without really knowing that it’s not good for him, either. Plus, you know he’d do anything for you. Everyone needs a Scott on their side, and you’re at like the top of his list, dude. Even if all this shit, whatever it is, was his fault, talk to him about this, or I swear to god, I will drag both your asses out and have some gross group therapy. Don’t push me.”

She sat back with a huff, feeling she was done saying her piece; but it suddenly dawned on her how it might’ve sounded. Rose didn’t want to seem like she wasn’t there for him at all. “— Wait, don’t get me wrong, okay, I’m not trying to palm off all the responsibility onto you two either. Of course you can talk to me, now and whenever, but I just -” She sighed, unsure how to word the lack of confidence she was currently feeling. “I just feel like he’s better equipped to handle this than me, or anyone. That goes for pretty much everything, actually. And he loves you a lot, so that’s a pretty good duo. That’s all I’m saying. And I’m done now, I swear, so if you wanna talk to me, I’ll shut up. I’m listening.”

Rose sighed, feeing it was safe to assume the Caroline thing had something to do with their surprise programming. “I know there’s so much shit we don’t know, and can’t confirm, but… ever since the Capitol, what they triggered in us… I haven’t been around Wanda much. At all, actually. But the longer I’m apart from her, I swear it’s like draining me. I’m exhausted, nauseous, sometimes. And she’s faded, you know? I just can’t feel her as close anymore. It wasn't like that before. Dean told me something similar once, and he’s been looking like real shit lately. He doesn’t know who his connection is either. So, we might be making it up, maybe it’s all coincidence, but maybe it’s not. We felt unwell, like, always in the Capitol.” She shrugged, feeling that sense of intuition again. “This is my roundabout way of asking if you’ve felt the same? Because maybe that’s how you work it out. The closer you are to them, the better you may feel.”

Her concerned gaze returned at hearing his questions, and without thinking about it, she’d instinctively reached out to hold the hand that still shook. “If it’s just you, then we’ll work that out. You’ve got so many people on your side, Stiles, you’re not going to be alone in this. Besides, you’re famous for working things out, right?” At his next question, Rose sat back in thought, having not really thought about it like that. “I guess, in a few ways, yes. Like for the distance thing, I reckon it helps. Does for me, anyway. Also, I guess you automatically become the person who knows them best, so if you get all these foreign emotions, you know there’s something up and can then help get rid of it, so you feel better, too. Does that make sense?”

[clairedsfield]

sdl ep. 221

[benevolenterrancy]

Art prompt of Shen Qingqiu holding the aro flag (fits his color scheme)

the real reason this man doesn't realise he's tripping every romance flag in the story