#but i’m not looking shit up constantly so

[blckbrrybasket]

Quiet Riot

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.2k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: protected then unprotected sex, mean!Rafe, mean!reader, Rafe’s a slut, bickering, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rafe was never created to be a good roommate. He constantly finds ways to be loud and disrupt your peace, so it’s unsurprising that when you need to finish a project he’s fucking another girl.

You needed to get this project done. It was your fault for procrastinating it, but right now Rafe certainly wasn’t helping. No. Right now, he was banging a girl in his bedroom next to yours. The apartment layout was bad enough that your room was stuck next to his, but he was never quiet. You’d think someone who needs to sneak around for a living would know how to be quiet but apparently not.

Hearing another loud moan from the girl he had over made you drop your pencil. You didn’t see the appeal that granted him a new girl to fuck every other night. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration but still. A louder moan that sounded close to a dying cat had you standing up to go to his room. Sure you’d slept with other people in the apartment before. You were no saint yourself, but you avoided doing it when he was busy. More than what he could say.

Rafe slid his cock in and out of the girl, who’s name he wasn’t sure of, and flared his nostrils. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the exertion while his eyes were focused on the slick coating his condom. He pounded back into her with a lewd squelch before he heard your knock on the door over her moaning. Knock was an understatement.

A groan of exasperation left his lips and he looked down. “One second.” Rafe squeezed her waist and pulled out with a grumble. “I’m coming, damn!” He rolled his eyes at your continued knocks. His fingers tugged at the latex as he pulled off the used condom. Rafe tossed it in the trash and glared at the bin. 

“Waste of a good condom.” Rafe sighed and grabbed a towel on his chair to cover his still hard cock, the girl forgotten on his bed. He yanked open the door to see your fist raised to knock again. “What?” His eyebrows were raised while looking at you, his pupils wider than normal.

You huffed and looked at him, crossing your arms. “Can you please be a little quieter? Shit, cover her mouth if you have to!” You hissed out the last sentence, not wanting to embarrass the poor girl. Rafe, however, could get the brunt of your frustration and god if he didn’t like it. He was almost annoyed with how quickly his dick twitched at the sight of you being upset.

You furrowed your eyebrows and jerked your head in the direction of your bedroom. “I have shit to do!” Rafe leaned against the door frame somehow looking relaxed in this state. It wasn’t the first time you butted heads and it was doubtful that it would be the last.

He blew a lazy puff of air out of his mouth, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, aren’t you being a little bitch today?” He let out a low chuckle, his voice dripping with mockery. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked you up and down, taking in your irritated expression when you scoffed.

Rafe pushed himself off the door frame and stepped closer to you, soundlessly padding over the floor. “You know what?” he said with a wicked grin, enjoying the power play. “I’ll keep the noise down if you promise to keep those lips of yours occupied with something other than bitching. Now I’m wondering…can you do that?”

Your nose scrunched up in disgust at his innuendo and you took a step back. In the opened up space the now modestly dressed girl dipped out between the two of you. She ducked her head and rushed out the front door, not sparing either of you a glance. Slowly turning back to look at Rafe, you faked a wince. 

“Yikes..” You looked down momentarily before quickly glancing back up. It was hard not to notice the obvious bulge that his towel clung to. The white cloth only reached his mid-thigh, keeping his deep v-line visible. You fake gagged at the sight. Deep down your heart raced, but you wouldn’t let him have that satisfaction, opting to reach up and flick between his eyebrows. “Man whore. Can’t believe you’d break *another* girl's heart like that.”

Rafe reached out to catch your wrist mid-flick, his grip firm but not too tight. Rafe let out a throaty chuckle at your ‘disgusted’ reaction, enjoying how it heated up your cheeks. “Watch it,” he replied, his voice low. “You know I love it when I prove you wrong, but don’t mess with me when I would happily punish you.”

Rafe tilted his head to the side. “And she knew we were only fucking. Didn’t seem like you knew that.” With a teasing grin, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But you can't deny that you were enjoying it. I saw you looking at me, you know?” He saw how your pupils blew out at the sight of him sweaty and almost entirely naked. 

Your breath hitched at his vulgar words. You knew Rafe lacked a filter, it was common knowledge, but it didn’t make it any less shocking. Your eyes caught his, your lips parting in shock. “I-“  “I bet you’re getting wet thinking about it.”

Rafe released your wrist, letting his hand trail down your hand before he took a step back, giving you some space. You blinked slowly then shook your head, pulling your hand back from hovering in the air. Fuckkk. He was right, you could feel slick slowly pooling into the fabric of your underwear. Rafe’s eyes roamed your body, his gaze trailing from your cheeks down to the curve of your lips.

“But if you'd rather keep acting like a prude, that's your loss.” He shrugged casually. “I’m not acting like anything, I just don’t like you,” you retorted semi-easily. He rolled his eyes at your stubbornness. “Whatever,” Rafe continued on as if you weren’t discussing him making you wet.

“What's so fucking important that you have to interrupt me, huh?” His eyes sparked with something unidentifiable as he awaited your response. You rolled your eyes and turned to look back at the open door to your room. Rafe would obviously throw a fit if he knew he was interrupted over you needing to do a project. “Just doing shit, get off my dick.” You huffed.

Rafe couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the effect he had on you. “Yeah. Shit,” he laughed, shaking his head. “See, I know what you’re doin’,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially. Looking up at him, you rolled your eyes. “And what’s that, Rafe?”

“You’re actin’ like a frigid bitch cause you like me.” At your incredulous laugh he leaned further into your space. “No, I get it. Big, bad, evil Rafe…and shit you like him. I’d be scared too.” His voice was too smug for your liking as he straightened back up with a satisfied smirk.

“You may not like me, but your body sure does,” he rubbed his jaw, chuckling. “And I’d bet it’s been a bit since someone properly took care of you.” His blue eyes stayed focused on you, his hand moving to slide over his crotch. His thick fingers grazed over his covered length. It was a mystery as to how his tip wasn’t exposed by the shorter towel. 

“But shit, if you want me to hop off, then I will. I'm always here if you change your mind,” he mused, his voice laden with hidden invitation. Rafe’s hands raised in fake surrender and with a smug smile he turned on his heel to walk back into his bedroom. The door swung shut, but he made no move to properly click it closed. The choice was yours, and Rafe knew that he had planted a seed of curiosity in your mind that wouldn't easily be ignored.

The image of his erection under the towel that his hand had rested over, thumb stroking up and down over the hidden skin was stuck in your head. “Jesus, Rafe.” You sighed to the shut door. A battle raged it’s war in your mind. You knew what would happen the moment you stepped into his room. Shifting on your feet you groaned quietly before crossing over the threshold, pushing the door back open.

Your eyes studied the familiar decorations and landed on him by his bed, still only in his towel. Rafe leaned nonchalantly against the edge of his bed, his eyes glimmering with anticipation as he watched you cautiously enter his room. The towel that barely covered his muscular frame showed off his physique, leaving little to the imagination. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he studied your every move, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with hunger. “Changed your mind already?” Rafe grinned proudly. He pushed himself off the bed, closing the distance between you with slow, measured steps. Rafe’s fingers reached out, his touch feather-light as they grazed along your jawline, his voice a mere whisper against your ear. “Didn’t know you were such a slut.”

Rafe’s hand trailed down from your jawline, his ghosting over your neck, teasingly trailing down the curve of your collarbone. His touch left a trail of electric anticipation in its wake, raising goosebumps on your skin. “If you want me to back off, say so,” he mumbled, his lips brushing temptingly close to yours. “If you don't, there’s no going back. I’ll give you everything you need.

You rolled your head back to expose the column of your throat. “No. I want this..I want you.” Your voice was strained and you fluttered your eyelids closed. For a moment the only sound was your breaths fanning over each other's lips. Taking initiative, your hands moved to rest on his bare chest. Once slid up and over the curvature of his shoulder to find the hair at the nape of his neck. “Please.”

There was no going back now. You could only trust that he’d take care of you like how he trusted you. Outside of sex you knew him and he could be kind, even when he acted like he wasn’t. He had and would never hurt you. You trusted him. The tension in the room grew thicker as desire mingled between the two of you. His hands moved to rest gently on your waist, pulling you closer until there was almost no space left between you. The heat from his bare chest seeped through the fabric of your shirt, setting your skin ablaze with anticipation.

Rafe’s voice was a low rumble as he spoke, his breath tickling your lips. “Trust me, relax. I'll give you exactly what you need,” he murmured the promise. You could see the fire burning in his dark eyes, a spark of something deeper than desire. He was a man of many contradictions and lies, but in this moment, there was something genuine in his gaze.

“I've got you.” With that, his lips crashed against yours with a need that matched your own. The kiss was immediately passionate, filled with the pent-up desire that had been brewing for far too long. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip with a familiarity that betrayed his previous insinuations of not caring.

His touch became bolder and more desperate with each passing second. You moaned freely into his mouth, digging your fingertips into his hair and tugging. Rafe hissed momentarily before groaning low in his throat when your fingernails raked down his chest. Angry red marks rose on his tanned skin, a testament to your want. 

Through your shorts and his thin towel his hard cock nestled against your thighs. You pulled back and then pressed forward repeatedly, pecking smaller but just as needy kisses on his lips. “Need…to..ride..you.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss before you bit his lower lip. His bottom lip was sucked into your mouth, your teeth pulling it down before popping it back into place. 

The pain mingled with his pleasure, heightening the sensations that coursed through his body. Rafe returned your kisses with equal fervor, his lips hungry against yours, relishing in the taste and warmth that they offered. “Fuck,” he groaned. “‘M not going to say no that” His cock pressed firmly against your in rhythm with the grinding of your hips, each movement sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his body. 

Rafe’s hands tightened around your waist, guiding you onto the edge of his bed. He positioned himself in front of you, hands exploring your body when you sat back. Your own hands grappled at his shoulders and tugged him on top of you. Lips finding each other again, you both slowly crawled backwards up the bed. The earlier girl was completely forgotten in his mind. It was only you, you, you.

Rafe’s muscular arm slipped under you and easily flipped the two of you over so you were on top now. He gripped your hips, guiding you down to straddle him. “Take what you need.” he urged, his breath hot against your ear. “Ride me.” In any other situation you would have thought of a dumb quip, but right now you were too caught up with him.

Your hand swept the loose towel to the side and off the bed. Mouths opening, the two of you kept your lips close to let your tongues swirl outside of the confines of your mouth. Rafe’s teeth nipped at the tip of your tongue before he lapped at it to soothe the sting. It should be gross, all the spit coating your lips, but Rafe made it feel so good.

You were too distracted to take your shorts off properly, fumbling with the button. It strained before popping out of the slot and letting you yank them off. Rafe hurriedly helped you slip them off your ankles and tossed it to the floor, pulling you back down right after. 

Your underwear were molded to the shape of your cunt, soaked when you desperately ground down against his begging cock. Rafe was just as lost in the pleasure as you were, head knocked back and groaning unabashedly. Rafe forced himself to look down and watch your every move with a racing heart. The friction of the cloth against his flesh was a sweet torment, igniting a fire in his gut that demanded release.

His arms, toned and strong, moved to rest above his head, offering himself to you completely. Rafe’s breath came in short bursts, his anticipation palpable in the air. He held your gaze, the connection between you both unbroken as you hovered over him. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. “You gonna do something?”

The look in his eyes showed a burning need for fulfillment that could only be sated by each other's touch. And as you pressed your cover cunt against his cock, the desire reached a fever pitch, the promise of pleasure and ecstasy just a heartbeat away. “Need it off fuck.” You grunted in response, feeling his hands assist you in pulling your underwear off. Rafe’s hands helped shove down the tight material past your thighs. With a relieved sigh, you found some relief in the cool air, your cunt throbbing.

The momentary reprieve was followed by a sigh of repose when you sat up to straddle him. You raised onto your knees and wrapped a hand around his dick, guiding him to your folds. Your hips moved, sliding him between your puffy lips, coating him in your wetness. It didn’t seem to be enough though, his worried expression not going unnoticed. 

Your head shook instantly as you held eye contact with him. You knew what you wanted, and you needed it now. Foreplay was far from your mind, all you needed was him. “Only need you.” You admitted. “Right fucking now.” Slowly, deliberately, you lowered yourself onto his cock, savoring the sensation of being stretched out and filled. 

Your hand came down to circle your clit, making your thighs twitch on either side of him. It effectively moved your focus away from the stinging. The feeling of familiar discomfort mixed with pleasure had the thought of coming around him conquering all else. Rafe took deep breaths, an almost pained look on his face as he slid into you.

This is what he had been missing out on. If he had sucked up his pride earlier he could have been fucking you way sooner. He couldn’t have any regrets though when both of your hips began to rock back and forth as he bottomed out. “Fuck,” Rafe cursed. Finding a rhythm that allowed you to adjust to his size was easy enough, Rafe seemingly knowing your body already.

Rafe gave up trying to relax back, too invested now to let you go and do all the work. He’d prove how good he could be so you’d come back to him. His hands rested on your thighs now, blue eyes filled with intensity. “You’re going to ride me,” he stated. “And I’m gonna guide you. A’ight?” At his words you nodded and tilted your head back with shut eyes. “Yeah…yeah, please.” You mumbled without thought. 

Without any hesitation, his hips rolled, circling his dick deep inside you. The base of his dick brushed against your cunt, signifying that he had claimed you. A raw moan ripped its way through your body when his grinding drug his cock against your g-spot. 

It was as if a bolt of lightning shot through your body, electrifying every nerve ending and causing you to jerk forward involuntarily, your clit pressing against his pubes. “God fucking damn,” Rafe groaned, the sound resonating from deep within his chest. The sheer pleasure of completely filling you drove him wild. 

Picking up the pace, his hips continued their rhythmic motion while his hands on your thighs lifted and lowered your body with little effort, biceps flexing. “Holy fuck Rafe,“ you bit your lip in concentration before slamming your hips forward, his tip hitting that sweet spot again. Driven by the insatiable need for more, you ground forward and rutted up against his body to stimulate your clit. 

The motion sent you forward and back onto his dick to stimulate your cunt simultaneously. As you humped him, your walls clenched around his thick cock, drawing him deeper with every movement. Unable to resist the temptation, Rafe’s hand reached down, his fingers curling around a fistful of your ass, spreading you open even further. 

The rough touch mingled with the pleasure coursing through your veins amplifying the euphoria of finally fucking him. Rafe fucked into you with uninhibited fervor, his grip on your ass giving him a handle to support your body while he drove his hip’s mercilessly into you. “Gonna come inside. Shit. You want that?”

Feeling you clench, he grinned and pressed his forehead to your shoulder. “Knew you’d like a creampie, slut.” You grimaced, smacking his shoulder, the sound masked by skin on skin slapping. “That’s disgusting, don’t say it like that.”

Rafe snorted, “How else do you want me to say it? I’m telling it like it is. You want my cum deep in your pussy.” He bounced you on his dick, victorious when you moaned instead of talking back. “That’s what I fucking though, now shut up while I fill you up.” Rafe grunted, his balls tightening as he hissed through his teeth.

[ghostgirl-22]

so i actually need pt 2 to the older patrick younger art fic right NOW.. jk but it was amazing

Y’all. Y’ALL. I heard you. And though I don’t really love writing sequels… I’ll do anything for you honestly <33

Original.

It’s a mess and way too long which is prbly to be expected by now. Idk. Sometimes you just have to get out of your head and post 😭

18+ NSFW

CW: AGE GAP 10-11 years, power dynamics, teacher/student vibes, first time vibes, AND mild daddy!kink whoopsie! How did that happen? Obviously if any of these things make you uncomfortable don’t read. I don’t take it personally. I’ll explain myself a bit. Art in my imagination here didn’t get constantly shown up by Patrick and because Patrick wasn’t there Art got the attention Patrick got for his skills so he’s a little more arrogant (still a little insecure because that’s his core) and still messy. Patrick had the Tashi injury which makes him a little less arrogant (brought down a notch but still overcompensates and actively self sabotages because that’s his core) and still messy.

——

Art is still keyed up the next morning. His roommate, Devon, is bragging about hooking up with a senior. Art is trying to pay attention but all he can think about is how he got on his knees and gave messy head to Patrick, Coach Zweig, his 31 year old ridiculously hot tennis coach. And how Patrick practically promised to fuck him if he was a really good boy all week. He’s sitting on his hands trying not to go crazy.

“What did you get up to?” Devon finally asks him. Picking up his towel and getting ready to shower.

“Can you keep a secret?” Art asks.

That makes him sit back down. “Yeah of course.”

Art tells him about Patrick, most of it anyway, watching his eyes widen. He’s not on the tennis team but he’s heard enough about Coach Zweig from Art that he can’t help giggling.

“You’re fucking joking.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“Holy shit. And I thought I was doing something with that senior. Wow. This would only happen to you.”

Art isn’t sure what he means by that but he’s suddenly asking a million questions. Art tells him some things, embellishing and withholding various details. The closest Art ever came to actually fucking a boy was when he used to sneak in Devon’s bed whenever he got horny at night. They were so close to fucking when Art made him stop. so he made Art promise to stop leading him on. And now they’re proper roommates with boundaries and everything. Though sometimes Art thinks if he asked for it Devon would still fuck him.

Devon thinks it’s hot, the whole Patrick thing. Thinks Patrick wants to make Art his kept boy. “Well I mean… he’s old and everyone says he’s loaded, right? He can give you whatever you want.” Devon says.

“Please, he wouldn’t even give me his phone number.” Art says dismissively. “And I don’t need to be kept I just need his dick.”

Devon chews his bottom lip looking Art over and Art wonders if he crossed a boundary. He’s so fucking messy with them.

“Lucky him,” Devon says dryly, rolling his eyes. “But maybe you should milk it. You’re young and beautiful and blonde and he’s your coach so it’s like.. it’s kind of illicit. He could get you a nice place off campus… be your sugar daddy. Girls do it all the time.”

“I think he’d kill me if I ever called him that,” Art laughs, making up his mind to definitely call him that at some point.

Devon agrees to come out with him next weekend but he still has to wait the whole fucking week. It feels like torture.

They have practice everyday and a game on Friday. Which means Patrick’s in those short shorts running them around the court every single day. Art can’t keep his mind off of him. Just wants his attention so bad, everyday he’s doing everything he can just to get Patrick to look in his direction. But Patrick’s got an epic poker face. He’s so fucking cool and calm and collected. So good at acting like nothing happened. Like everything is the same and they never did what they did.

There's one difference. Instead of having the assistant coach do it… he’ll bring Art to the side and personally correct him when he thinks Art could play better. Show him how to position himself, swing the racket, follow through. Big hands, rough hands, gripping Art's waist to turn his body, his wrist to direct his swing. The same hands that effortlessly lifted off his lap the other night.

“Can’t be all talk and no action sweetheart,” Patrick says lightly, as he’s standing behind him. God. It’s actually stupid how sexy he is. Art’s never thought this much about being penetrated, ever. He makes sure to arch his back just a little more than he usually does. Patrick presses a hand to the small of his back.

Art fingers the grip of his racket. “I don’t think I was all talk.”

Patrick chuckles, low and soft. “Stop it. Focus. Bring that energy here,” he says, “all that confidence right here and no one will rattle you.”

“Like this?” Art demonstrates. He makes a mess of it just so that Patrick will touch him again. It takes a minute before Patrick catches on.

“I think you get it,” he says dryly.

“Please show me one more time. I just wanna be a good boy for you,” Art says lightly. It makes Patrick swallow… his gaze falls helplessly over Arts body and then he looks away smirking.

“Are you having fun?” He says, leaning in close, eyes all crinkly with amusement.

Art wants to kiss him. “Mmhm,” he hums, pressing his lips together. “Though sometimes it still feels like my mouth is so full of you I could just… choke.”

“Yeah… right…” Patrick rolls his eyes, still smiling and then he takes a deep breath and drags his hand over his beard. “Hm…What’s today?”

“Wednesday,” Art says.

“And my plans for the weekend are still up in the air,” he says, patting Art on the shoulder as he takes his racket and turns to face the team. “Five laps around the court, everybody, let’s gooo!” He says loudly, blowing his whistle. “Fucking hustle!”

There’s an audible groan and the sounds of rackets dropping as everyone stops what they’re doing and starts running. “Go join them. And if you keep it up it’ll be sprints next.” Patrick says softly.

Art grins, as much as he hates running and he’s sure his teammates will assume he’s responsible for this bit of conditioning, it was still totally fucking worth it.

He probably should’ve focused more but he wins on Friday in spite of himself. Tennis is such a mental game and while he’s generally confident and loves the attention that comes with playing as number one on the center stage, he’s not consistent. That’s what Patrick always says at least. There are opponents that leave him feeling less sure of himself and then he tends to get in his head imagining he’s somehow inadequate or deficient.

One of those players is a French recruit from UCLA, Jensen Bordeaux. Art starts out strong. Crushes it in the first set. But when Bordeaux fights back in the second and he falls apart a little. It’s a bad habit. He wins another game but it’s not enough. He ends up nearly going into a third set.

“Remember what I said,” Patrick takes him to the side between points. “Stop acting like you can’t finish him off. You can have whatever you want right?”

Art gazes at him and bites his lip. “Mmhm.” He nods.

“Good. You know what you want. Just take it. Okay?”

“Yeah okay,” Art says breathlessly.

“Good boy,” Patrick says, rubbing his shoulders, a little smirk on his lips. “Try not to… you know… choke.”

Art feels heated from the inside out. He goes back on the court except he’s not thinking about the game. Instead he’s so anxious for the promise of tomorrow night that all this begins to feel like a mere obstacle to that. He makes easy work of it, winning the tiebreaker and shifting it so that Stanford goes home the winning team.

Everyone on the team goes out to a frat party to celebrate and Art is so drunk and horny by the end of the night. He stumbles into his dorm at 1 am, falls drunkenly into bed and starts touching himself. Fingers in his mouth imagining it’s the heavy weight and thickness of Patrick’s cock. Imagining Patrick’s large hands in his hair, imagining the soft, easily amused tone of his voice as he murmurs. “Good boy.” Makes him come so fast and hard he passes out.

He’s a mess in the morning. In more ways than one. They don’t have practice after game days so he sleeps off his hangover and the day flies by. He takes a long hot shower before he gets ready to go. Anxiety and anticipation competing for space in his brain and body. Devon loans him clothes that are so much tighter than anything he wears regularly. “Trust me, he’s gonna be all over you in this.”

They get there at the same time as last week but Patrick doesn’t come right away. Art’s waiting and waiting and waiting for Patrick to show up at the gay bar. Devon is at a table, a new boy on his lap and they’re making out. Art is half tipsy, swinging his legs on a barstool while this guy from the baseball team stands between his thighs asking him everything about tennis like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. And that’s when Patrick finally arrives. He spots Art across the bar and smirks. Art gets up right away, making excuses to the now frowning baseball player about seeing him around on campus.

“That was fast,” Patrick smirks, as Art sidles up next to him.

“Well I didn’t know you’d take so long to come,” Art says, moving closer. “Is that an old person thing?”

”Mm, you…” Patrick chuckles, tapping his credit card on the bar. He’s got such a great smile. God. Art is so far gone. This is tragic.

“Can you buy me a drink?” Art asks in his ear.

“No fucking way,” Patrick says, amused.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

Art holds up 3 fingers.

“Is that how many fingers I’m gonna have to put in before I can… nevermind…” Patrick says.

Art grins. Warmth spreading throughout his body. “It’s really big,” Art whispers. “Maybe you need four?”

“God…” Patrick laughs, incredulous. “I shouldn’t even fucking be here.” He sighs, as the bartender approaches them. He orders a whiskey and because it’s two for one he gives in and lets Art pick something. He orders rum and coke.

Art feels giddy as he sips on it.

“So used to getting whatever you ask for,” Patrick says, looking him over, teasing a finger into one of his belt loops. “Twenty years old. God. You make me fucking crazy.” He whispers in Art’s ear.

Art can’t help grinning.

Patrick makes him wait while he talks to people his own age. Acting all wholesome. “Oh he’s just one of my players, I’m gonna make sure he gets home safe.” He even gives Art the key so he can wait in his jeep. Art’s hard as soon as he gets in it. Listens to music too loud and ponders touching himself.

He’s kissing on Patrick right away when he finally gets in the car. He’s been so eager all week. “Mm…” Patrick pulls back, tangling his fingers into Art’s hair. “Fuck… gimme a minute to get you home, okay?” he says and he turns on the engine and puts the music back at a sensible volume.

“Is it far?” Art asks.

Patrick huffs a laugh. “Take a deep breath.”

It doesn't help. Everything smells like him. Art puts a hand on Patrick’s thigh, his skin is so heated. He remembers how warm Patrick’s cock felt in his mouth and then his mouth starts watering.

“Is Tashi there?” Art sighs.

“What do you fucking think?”

Art leans close, just breathing him in. Resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder. ”She’s so pretty.” He hums.

“I know.”

“You’re so pretty.”

Patrick chuckles, a low vibration Art can feel from his throat that makes him shiver. “And you're so tipsy. And so fucking young.”

“But you like it.” Art says softly, rubbing Patrick’s thigh. Skin so warm he’s like a furnace. Already hard enough that Art can feel it.

”And I know I’m gonna regret it.”

Their house is actually huge. On the nicer side of Palo Alto. It’s one of the ones with a pool and a tennis court and a crazy nice view of the city. Art doesn’t know any of this until later because as soon as they're inside he’s trying to get his tongue in Patrick’s mouth. Patrick walks him back towards the living room where there’s a huge leather sofa. Art climbs onto his lap as soon as he sits down. Patrick is touching him everywhere, fingers tangled into his hair. Hands under his shirt, rubbing him, teasing him. Art is just trying his best to feel him, lick into his mouth and taste him. All while grinding against his prominent bulge. Grabbing at his zipper trying to get it out.

“Can you fuck me?” Art begs against his lips.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes against his lips, he’s gripping Art’s waist tightly. Slowing him down. He sighs like he’s trying to pull himself together. “Mmkay. God. Stand up a minute. I need to get a condom and some lube.”

Art gets up reluctantly, nervous energy making him bounce on his toes like he’s waiting on a serve. Patrick smirks, “Relax… I’ll be back in a minute.” He pats Art’s shoulder as he gets up and disappears into another room. It doesn’t matter whether Art sits or stands, he’s anxious. He looks around the lavish room, fancy furniture, paintings that look expensive. Massive kitchen like the kind you see in movies. Patrick comes back and he’s all loose, t-shirt wrinkled, hair messy, eyes soft. He’s probably done this a million times. He’s got a condom between his fingers which he hands to Art.

“You wanna put it on me?”

”Mmhm,” Art says. He’s also carrying a little bottle of lube. Art’s trying to rip the packet open but his hands are all shaky. Especially when Patrick lifts his t-shirt off, he’s so solid, strong biceps, chest hair that gets darker condensed down the line of his stomach to where his jeans are unbuttoned. Art wants to lick it.

“Okay,” Patrick settles on the sofa, kicking off his shoes. “Give me that, you pretty little virgin and take those clothes off.”

Art hands him the condom a little embarrassed, and starts undoing his jeans. Kicks off his shoes and peels off his shirt so he’s only in boxers. Patrick bites open the packet and eases his jeans down and his cock out. Art takes shallow breaths watching him roll the condom on. It’s so big the condom is a magnum size and it fits snug. He’s heard horror stories about first times, even read a few on Reddit and he’s starting to feel a little panicked.

”Look at you.” Patrick says softly, eyes dragging slowly down Arts body. He pulls Art onto his thighs, god he has thick muscular thighs, Art can’t help wiggling. Patrick’s got him close so their cocks line up, and his palm is covered in lube and he’s gripping them both at the same time. It feels so fucking good Art thinks he might come too fast. He’s moaning, eyes squeezed shut when Patrick stops. Art opens his eyes to see Patrick wetting his fingers with more lube and slips a thick calloused finger back along Art’s entrance. Art feels himself seizing up as Patrick presses slowly inside.

“Take deep breaths,” Patrick whispers. Advice Art tries to follow but it just feels so crazy. He eases another finger in and Art tenses even more.

“Mm if your so fucking tight, I can’t fuck you sweetheart.”

“Does it hurt?” Art whispers.

Patrick takes a breath. “Yeah a little at first… but I think I can make it feel a little…uh better…”

Art shivers, his body suddenly overrun by pleasure as Patrick’s teasing his fingertips deep inside him. Art can hear himself moaning voice suddenly pitched so high he barely recognizes it. “Please… please… “he begs. “Please fuck me… fuck me… fuck me daddy.” Art gasps, losing himself as he’s riding the sensation.

“Fuck… what did you call me?” Patrick whispers.

Art bites his lip, his body heating up immediately with embarrassment. “Mm sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I meant like sugar…” He says softly as Patrick slowly pulls his fingertips out. Art is breathless. Patrick doesn’t look mad but his expression has gone heady.

“Fuck… I can be daddy if you need it,” Patrick breathes. “Come…sit on daddy’s dick. Holy shit. What are you doing to me?”

Art swallows, his stomach doing flip flops for the way Patrick says it. He sits up on his knees, he can feel Patrick lining up. It actually feels like a lot. Like way too much. Impossible to take. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut and watering feeling the insane stretch as he sinks so fucking slowly down on it.

“Oh god,” he keeps whispering over and over like a prayer.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes. His hands gripping Art’s waist.

He’s anxious moving slowly, gripping tightly, it’s too much, he’s too full. And Patrick starts to adjust him while gently rubbing his tummy. “Relax… lets try this angle,” Patrick whispers. Fucking into him in a way that he starts hitting that pleasure spot deep inside with even more intensity. “Good… good boy…that’s right…breathe… breathe… keep breathing… fuck…” Patrick coaches. And then slowly as it happens Art is moaning, bouncing on his lap just to feel it hit over and over and over and over again.

“I wanna… mmm I like it so much. wanna do it all the time,” Art moans nonsensically as he’s riding, not sure what’s happening, just that he’s seeing stars. “I wanna fuck you all the time. All the fucking time. wanna fuck you at school… during practice. In your bed. Wanna be your boy toy. Play with your big dick. Fuck me, oh fuck… fuck me daddy, daddy please. It feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus,” Patrick groans he barely grips Art’s cock and he’s coming loudly, spurts of it covering Patrick’s chest and his own. He can feel Patrick still pressing up into him, it suddenly feels like way too much. Every movement making him shake with how sensitive it feels and then Patrick stills, swearing over and over, gripping Art’s body tight and burying himself deep. Low gravelly sounds against Art’s ear.

”Fuck,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. “Oh… god. You’re so… fuck I’m so screwed.”

“Mm,” Art collapses against his chest, running his fingers down Patricks soft chest hair all painted with his jizz. His knees are all sweaty and sticking to the leather but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to be close. Patrick is gently rubbing his lower back and it feels amazing. Art can feel him softening and slowly slipping out of him, he thinks he might fall asleep like this.

“You okay?” Patrick asks.

”Mmhm,” Art says.

“You sure?”

”Yeah. Can we do it again?”

“God,” Patrick laughs. “I need at least five minutes and I need you to get up cause I gotta piss.”

“No,” Art whines, unhappy about anything that means he won’t be warmed by Patrick's body heat even for a second. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders.

Patrick chuckles. “I can’t go anywhere?”

“No,” Art says. “You’re my pillow.”

“Guess I fucked your virgin ass good,” Patrick says.

“For an old guy,” Art says softly, smiling against Patrick’s throat.

“For your daddy, you little freak…” Patrick says gently, squeezing his ass. “Come on, get up or we’re gonna have a bigger mess to clean up.”

Art groans and unwraps his arms. “Can I come?”

“To piss?” Patrick raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Art nods.

Patrick smirks and rolls his eyes before gently curling his fingers into Arts hair. “Yeah sure, come on.”

Art kisses him and he sighs into Arts mouth. “I need a fucking cigarette too.”

“Can I stay over?” Art asks against his lips.

“Mm…” he ponders and sighs. “Fuck it I don’t know why I bother pretending to set boundaries with you…” he says, helping Art to his shaky feet. “Tashi will be home tomorrow afternoon. So you know… better not sleep too late.”

Art grins at him. “Does she know about me?”

“Does she know that after I finally got a good job as a tennis coach at my old school that I’m this close to losing it because I can’t help fucking my barely legal 20 year old star player? No actually. She doesn’t know.” He says dryly.

Art laughs. “I wouldn’t tell. But I mean imagine if I slept with you both. I’d learn so much about tennis.“

Patrick snorts, “This kinda talk is gonna make me take you home tonight actually…”

“Mm too late. You let me call you daddy,” Art grins. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

[devixncy]

could you do a dae ho fic please? Like the reader was a barista he has a crush on but never had the courage to ask out previously to the games. And then once they get into the games he protects her and she reveals she always found him cute as well. Thanks :)

so, i may have gotten carried away while writing this one. pretty sure i typed out wayyy too many unnecessary details oops! (but i can't help it i'm sorry). anyways, i love dae-ho so so much like <3333 such a cutie

✧ pairing: kang dae-ho x fem!reader

✧ summary: dae-ho happened to be a regular at the cafe you worked at as a barista, and you had started to grow feelings for him over time. when you find yourself in the games, he ends up there as well and ultimately saves your life. fearing for your life and the fear of the unknown leads to late night confessions.

✧ content: typical squid game violence, mentions of death, i think that's it. literally just straight fluff

✧ word count: 4.8k

Your life was quiet, but you enjoyed it that way. Being a barista was the perfect job for you, it was relaxing and there was nothing you loved more than interacting with customers, especially the regulars. Unfortunately, while you loved your job, it wasn’t enough. You lived in a cramped apartment that was cozy, but your job just barely covered the rent. On top of that, you couldn’t cover your debt. You were swimming in debt, trying your hardest to help pay for your younger sister's medical bills. She was ill, and constant hospital trips and stays started building up fast. It was just the two of you, your parents having passed a few years prior. You would do anything for your sister, but having the loan sharks breathing down your neck constantly was beginning to drive you insane. You needed more money and fast.

Lost in thought, you absentmindedly drew shapes into the counter with your fingernail. The cafe was quite slow, but with the gloominess and light drizzle outside, it made sense. The bell above the door rang, signaling that someone had entered. Looking up, you immediately began to smile. One of your favorite regulars, Dae-ho, had stepped inside.

His eyes immediately met yours and he smiled at you, making your heart flutter. Dae-ho was the most kind, genuine soul you had ever met. He never failed to light up your day, even just by being in his presence. He truly was a gentleman, most likely thanks to growing up with four sisters.

“Just the usual?” You asked as he walked up to the counter.

“What, no ‘hello Dae-ho, how are you’?” He asked teasingly as you rolled your eyes.

“Hello Dae-ho, how are you?” You feigned annoyance, however you truly did want to know how he was doing. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a crush on the man in front of you. He was incredibly sweet to you (and incredibly handsome), so how could you not fall for him?

“I’m great, (Y/N). And yes, I’ll take my usual.” The grin on his face was contagious, and you smiled, nodding as you began to make his order. He was a man of simple taste, ordering an Americano every time he came in. While you made it (and grabbed him a free pastry), you could hear him ask how you were doing.

“Oh, you know. Same shit different day. Just trying to get by,” You replied as you snapped the lid on his drink. Turning around, you slid it across the counter along with the bagged pastry. Dae-ho furrowed his brows at the sight of the pastry, looking at you questioningly. You shook your head before he could say anything. “Just take it, Dae. It’s on me.”

His cheeks turned a little pink at the sound of the nickname, but he nodded gratefully. He placed his money for the coffee in your hand, your skin tingling as his fingers brushed yours. You took the money and put it in the register, handing him back his change. Of course, he took his change and put it in your tip jar.

Before he picked up his items, he looked at you as you leaned on the counter. Your eyes were so full of life, the smile on your lips making his heart thud. But he could see the exhaustion in your face, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Without thinking, he leaned over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed against your jaw gently. Eyes wide, you looked at him, cheeks starting to burn. He smiled softly, dropping his hand and picking up his coffee and pastry.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, even though he knew your work schedule like the back of his hand. You nodded, still dazed, as he chuckled and walked off with a small wave.

Once outside the shop, he cursed to himself. Oh, how he wishes he were bold enough to ask you out. Every time he thought he could do it, he backed out, fearing rejection. He didn’t want to mess up the friendship the two of you had. One day, he promised himself.

— Once you had closed up shop for the day, you locked the doors to the café and headed towards the subway.

You sat down on a bench, placing your bag directly next to you. While you waited, you stared at the ground in front of you as you absentmindedly picked at your cuticles. When you weren’t working and keeping yourself distracted, the stress started to take over.

Your body tensed as someone sat next to you. Turning your head, you saw a man dressed in a nice suit, a briefcase by his side. Sighing, you scooted away a little bit more. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m definitely not interested.”

“I’m not selling anything. In fact, I would like to let you in on a great opportunity. Would you like to play a game with me?”

You frowned, confusion evident on your face. A game? Seriously? Turning towards him, you studied him for a moment. Something about this man was off putting. As you were about to open your mouth to decline his offer, he opened up a briefcase. The words died on your tongue as you saw the stacks of money.

“I’m sure you’ve played ddakji before, yes?” He asked as he picked up the red and blue squares. You nodded slowly. “Play a few games with me. And each time you win, I’ll pay you a 100,000 won.”

You stared at the money as you pondered. You needed this. A couple games of ddakji couldn’t hurt, right?

And you played. You had won most of the rounds, earning a couple of slaps in the face when you didn’t. By the time the game was over, you had accumulated a decent amount of money. Of course, not nearly enough to cover what you needed it for. As you sat there counting the money, the salesman began to speak.

“You know, miss. There are more games like this where you can win even more.”

You paused, looking up at him. It sounded too good to be true. As you were going to decline, he began to list all of your personal information. He knew your name, your occupation, the amount of debt you had accumulated. Your mouth dropped, unable to get a word out. He smiled smugly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card. He handed it to you, and you snatched it.

“We don’t have many spots left.”

Those words resonated with you as you sat in your apartment. Taking a deep breath, you called the number on the back of the card.

“Do you wish to participate in the game? If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate.”

Next thing you knew, you were standing on a street corner in the dark. You rocked back and forth on your heels anxiously as you waited. Soon enough, a car pulled up next to you, rolling down the window. A masked person donning a pink suit turned his head in your direction.

“Ms. (Full name)?”

You nodded, following up with the password they had given you over the phone. The back door slid open and you climbed in, noticing the other people in the seats who were seemingly asleep. You shook off the uneasiness, trying to get comfortable in the seat. Seconds later, steam began to fill the car, making you cough. And then the world went dark.

~

When you awoke, your brain felt fogged and you were incredibly groggy. You screwed your eyes shut as the overhead lights threatened to blind you. Classical music filled your ears, and you groaned as you sat up. Opening your eyes, you scanned your surroundings. Numerous people were getting out of their beds, all wearing the same green tracksuit with numbers plastered on the back. Quickly looking down, you saw that you wore the same thing. Then you noticed your number in bold white, 301. You got out of the bed, making your way down the stairs the same way everyone else was. As you were taking it all in, the doors at the front of the room underneath the screen opened. Multiple masked figures stepped out, walking forward. The one in the front began speaking.

“I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you. Everyone here will participate in six games over the course of six days. Those who win will receive a handsome cash prize.”

Players began to speak up. All made good points, and you agreed that you all being basically kidnapped and the masked guards were a little strange.

Then, you gasped as multiple players were shown on screen playing the game of ddakji, announcing their names and how much debt they were in. Thankfully, your name didn’t come up.

When it came time, you got in line and signed the consent form. You didn’t bother reading it, you were just here to play some games after all. You were sure it was just some dumb fine print that didn’t really mean anything.

Soon enough, yourself and all of the other players filed into a multi-colored room. There were stairs leading up, and as you looked around you noticed multiple guards stationed in different spots. Shaking off your unease, you stepped up to the photo booth and turned to face the camera. Upon hearing the ‘smile!’, you mustered up a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“The first game will begin momentarily. After having your picture taken, follow the staff’s instructions and proceed to the game site.”

You followed behind the other players up the stairs, coming up to a large door where everyone was filing into.

“Welcome to the first game. All players, please wait a moment on the field.”

You entered the large clearing in front of you, squinting as the sunlight hit your eyes. As your eyes adjusted, you looked around at the four large walls and the comically large doll with the tree directly ahead. There were two guards standing on either side of it.

Suddenly, the three large doors slammed shut behind you with a loud clank. You gasped and turned around, as did many others.

“The first game is Red Light, Green Light. Cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. If you do, you pass.”

Suddenly, someone pushed past you to get to the front of the group. He seemed frantic, turning towards everyone.

“Everyone!” he shouted, waving his arms in the air. He had your full attention now. “Everyone listen up, pay attention!”

“This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you die!”

Your breath caught in your throat. There’s no way he was serious, right? How could you possibly die playing a children’s game? Others seemed to think the same thing, as someone asked him what the hell he was talking about. “We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?” someone asked with a scoff.

“Yes, that’s right! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot you from somewhere! Stay on your toes. That doll’s eyes are motion detectors!”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, no one seeming to take his word for it. Many were voicing their thoughts that this was just some ploy to get all of the money for himself.

“You have to believe me!” His voice was laced with desperation. As he finished his sentence, the doll began to whir to life, turning to face the tree. Its arm raised up, placed against the tree. The man, player 456, whirled around, panic evident in his movements.

“Do not be alarmed or panic! No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!”

Your heart began to hammer in your chest. Something in your gut told you to believe him. He seemed way too genuine to be making this all up.

“Let the game begin.”

The timer across the room flickered to life, displaying a red five minute timer.

Mugunghwa Kkoch-i Pieossseubnida

You began to move forward, freezing as the doll whirled back around and player 456 held up his hands. “Freeze!” He yelled out. Everyone stayed as still as a statue.

“Well done! You just need to stay calm like this!”

Once the doll turned again, you started to run forward, freezing again moments later. The doll's head turned, its eyes calculating everyone’s movement. Player 456 continued to yell out instructions, and so far everyone seemed to be listening despite calling him crazy.

Mugunghwa Kkoch-i Pieossseubnida

You began to run forward again, stopping dead in your tracks along with everyone else. This continued successfully for a couple of cycles. For a moment though, while you were all paused, someone began to scream. Yourself and many others side eyed the girl in shock.

“Crap. I just moved.” And with that, moments later, a gunshot rang out. Your eyes widened, unmoving, but terrified.

“NOBODY MOVE!! You must not move!” Player 456 shouted frantically, not wanting panic to ensue. Unfortunately, it was far too late for that. Multiple gunshots began to follow the first, people dropping around you left and right. Blood began to cover the field. It seemed non-stop. Your body began to tremble, feeling nauseous as the chaos unfolded around you. Player 456 was screaming at this point, trying to save everyone that he could.

“Let me repeat. You can move forward while the tagger shouts ‘Green light, red light’. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

After the announcement, the game resumed. This time, nobody dared to move from their spot. Once the green light was given again, the only person to move was player 456. And then again, he was the only one to move. Everybody was glued to their spot, too terrified to move. He began to shout instructions again, telling everyone to get behind someone bigger than you. That’s exactly what you did at the next cycle, getting behind players 120 and 124. You stayed close behind as they moved forward, trying to make sure your movement was minimal. This continued until you were almost at the finish line.

“LETS GO!” Player 456 screamed, everyone beginning to push forward as fast as they could. You did the exact same, until your foot slipped as you were trying to come to a stop. Fear coursed through your body as the ground got closer, the doll about to turn around. Everything was moving in slow motion. This was it, this was how you were going to die. Your eyes screwed shut, waiting for the impact from the ground and the bullet. Suddenly, though, you weren’t moving anymore. The back of your jacket was held tightly by somebody behind you, right as the doll said red light and turned. Your eyes flew open in shock, not daring to move a muscle. It was the longest moment of your entire life, praying whoever had their grip on your jacket didn’t lose it. As soon as the doll turned back around, whoever was behind you instantly pulled you back up. Your arm was grabbed and you were hastily pulled towards the red line, being shoved over it as the doll said red light. You stumbled and fell to your hands and knees, wheezing as you tried to catch your breath. Then you paused, whipping around to see who it was.

And there he was, standing mere inches from the finish line. You stared at him, mouth agape. Dae-ho was standing right in front of you, the number 388 plastered to his jacket. Your heart thudded in your chest, your ears ringing. You couldn’t even process it, that he was in this mess just like you were. Moments later, he crossed the line, running straight to you. He crouched down next to you, gripping your face in his hands like he was making sure you were real. Your lips parted, but words refused to come out. He had just saved your life and there you sat trembling like a leaf, not even able to muster a ‘thank you’. However, he didn’t say anything either. His eyes said it all. He was completely terrified.

“Dae-ho…” You whispered, your voice shaking. Before he could respond, everyone’s heads shot up towards the sky. A retractable roof was closing over the top of the arena, closing you all in like animals in a cage.

Before he could say anything, you were all being herded back to the main room. The guards gave you no time to process anything, forcing you to get moving. Dae-ho stayed right next to you, a gentle grip on your upper arm. The atmosphere entering back into the main room was dark, the obscene amount of death and bloodshed looming over everyone’s head like a dark cloud. You sat next to Dae-ho, silent as a mouse. Everyone was silent. What could possibly be said after what you had all just witnessed? Your gaze bore into the ground in front of you, knees tucked into your chest with your arms wrapped around them. Dae-ho was lost in thought, his side pressed up against yours. The touch kept you somewhat grounded, though just barely.

Suddenly, the bright overhead lights flickered to life and the door opened. Everyone's attention turned towards the guards that stepped into the room. Upon seeing them, everybody scrambled back further, clearly terrified. You were no exception, pushing yourself backwards up the stairs behind you. Dae-ho did the same, a protective grip around your body.

“Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results from the first game.” The board above them began to change, the number 456 changing to 365.

More chaos began to ensue. People begging for their lives, the promise of a fair voting process. The voting process was anything but smooth, tensions beginning to rise between the players. You chose X with no hesitation. While you needed the money, you had to be there for your sister. You couldn’t help her, the only family she had left, if you were dead. Dae-ho had voted X as well, much to your relief. Unfortunately, your relief was short lived, as you lost the vote to leave by one. You were devastated, wanting nothing more than to curl up and cry. Showing weakness may not be the greatest idea, though. Not in a place like this.

Once it was meal time, you sat on the stairs with your tin of food in one hand and water bottle in the other. You had zero appetite. Dae-ho, who was sitting next to you, wasted no time in digging into his. You turned your head towards him and he paused.

“What?” He asked halfway through shoveling food into his mouth. You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You need to eat something too, (Y/N). You can’t let yourself go hungry, gotta retain your strength. Here,” He said, scooping some of his onto his spoon and putting it up to your mouth. Your lips tightened into a thin line, silently refusing. He frowned. “I’m serious-”

“What are you even doing here, Dae-ho?” You cut him off, turning towards him a little more. He swallowed, frown still on his face.

“I could ask you the same thing.” His tone was completely serious now, setting his tin down next to him. You set yours down as well, refusing to meet his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re both in this mess, and now we both have to somehow make it out alive.” You hoped you didn’t come off as hopeless as you felt. Dae-ho decided not to press any further. He nodded in agreement. There was nothing the two of you could do about it now.

“We’re going to get out of here, you and I. Together. I swear to you,” He grabbed your hands in his, running his thumb across your knuckles. That was his typical positive attitude coming out. You sighed, finally meeting his eyes. “Now come on. I was serious before, you need to at least try to eat.” He said, his usual grin returning to his face. You couldn’t help it, your lips twitched up into a smile. If it were possible, his smile got even wider, gently pinching your cheek with his fingers. “Aha! There’s that smile that I know and love.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a light shove. He laughed, and you gave in, picking up your tin. You ate in small bites, finally realizing how hungry you truly were. Dae-ho resumed eating, scarfing his down before you were even a third of the way done with yours. He patiently waited until you were finished with yours, taking your tin from you and setting it aside.

After meal time, you and Dae-ho had begun conversing with player 456 and player 399 who were nearby. As it turns out, player 399 whose name you found out to be Jung-bae, was a former marine just like Dae-ho. They saluted each other, their interactions causing you to giggle, letting some of the tension leave your body. Dae-ho’s eyes lit up at the sound, warmth spreading through his body. The rest of the night went as smoothly as it could save for the scuffle that occurred between players 230, 124, 333 and 001.

Then, it was time for lights out. Most players were fast asleep, but you laid in your bed, staring up at the glowing piggy bank. Alone with your thoughts, your mind was racing. There was no way you could sleep. Your head was pounding and you sighed as you turned onto your side. Lucky for you, Dae-ho’s bed was right next to yours. Realistically, he had claimed it as soon as he saw it was empty, assuming the person who was there previously was eliminated. From what you could tell, he was fast asleep. However you really needed some company and reassurance at the moment.

“Dae,” You whispered. He didn’t budge. Of course, you thought as you rolled your eyes. He would be a heavy sleeper. “Dae-ho!” You whisper-shouted, hoping you didn’t have to say it again. Thankfully, you saw him starting to stir. His eyes fluttered open, opening completely as he realized it was you who had awoken him. Quickly, he sat up.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He whispered, concern gracing his features. You shook your head, starting to feel a little silly for waking him.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up. You can go back to sleep.” You whispered back, realizing he was probably exhausted.

He shook his head, getting up from his bed and coming over to yours. He knelt down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt pitiful.

“Will you lay with me?” Your voice came out as barely a whisper, but he heard you loud and clear. His heart skipped a beat, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“Of course, love. Scoot over.”

You blushed at the nickname but immediately moved over to make room for him. Without hesitation, he hopped into your bed, laying on his side so that he was facing you. He cupped your face gently, running his thumb over your cheekbone. You didn’t say anything, but he read you like a book. “What’s wrong?”

You could feel a lump forming at the back of your throat, and you stared into his eyes. Truth be told, you were so terrified. This was a fear you had never felt before in your life. If it wasn’t for the man next to you, you wouldn’t even be alive. How did you go from casually flirting with each other in the coffee shop, not a care in the world, to arriving at death’s door together? Tears burned at the back of your eyes, threatening to come to the surface.

“I’m scared, Dae-ho. I’m so scared,” Your voice cracked, tears spilling over your eyes slowly. Dae-ho was quick to wipe them away, his heart breaking. “I just wanted to save my sister. I thought that if I joined the games and won some money, I could take the stress off of both of us. I wouldn’t have to worry about the medical bills, or the loan sharks, or anything. I would be able to work without having the weight of the world on my shoulders, and it would just be us in the cafe, and nothing else would matter. You and my sister were the only things keeping me going, and now you and I are both here and one or both of us could die.” You cried quietly as Dae-ho looked at you sadly. He pulled you into his chest, shushing you as you wept into his shirt. He let you cry it out, not saying anything as he rubbed your back. Eventually, when you became silent, he pulled back so he could look at your face. Your eyes were red, cheeks tear streaked.

“(Y/N), listen to me. As long as we’re in here together, I won’t let anything happen to you. Truly, you’re the light of my life and if something happened to you I don’t think I could forgive myself. You’re my anchor, especially in a place like this. I have something here to keep me going, you know?” He murmured. You sniffled and nodded, but he kept going. “The moment I saw you in that cafe I knew I was in trouble. I thought you were the most perfect thing to grace this earth, and if I wasn’t so stupid, I would’ve asked you out a long time ago.”

Your eyes widened at that, looking at him as he smiled at you. “You really mean that?” Your pulse quickened at the confession.

“Every word,” He chuckled as he drew shapes into the fabric of your jacket. “This is gonna be awkward for me if you don’t feel the same.” At that, you gave him a light shove and he laughed.

“Of course I feel the same, you idiot. Why do you think you were getting so many free pastries?” You joked, then became serious. “Seriously though, Dae-ho. I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. I wish you would’ve asked me out a long time ago, I’ve had a giant crush on you for a while now. I thought it was obvious.”

“It was obvious,” you rolled your eyes at that. “I was just too scared to do something about it. I didn’t wanna mess anything up between us. And now here we are, in the worst possible situation, and I’m finally confessing this to you.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes as he thought about the circumstances. “How about when we get out of here, I take you out on a date, yeah? We’ll go somewhere nice with my share of the money.”

“It doesn’t have to be fancy, Dae-ho. As long as I’m with you it doesn’t matter,” You said sincerely, a small smile gracing your lips. “But I would love to.”

He grinned at that, his entire face lighting up. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You grabbed one of his hands and he gave it a gentle squeeze. To his surprise, you craned your neck up and placed your lips directly onto his. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you could feel him smile against your lips as he moved his free hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pulled away after a few moments, before leaning back down and placing another quick peck to your lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” He teased, excitement present in his voice. You giggled, feeling over the moon with happiness even if it was just for a moment. Dae-ho shifted to lay flat on his back, pulling you with him. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He had his arm around you and you threw your leg over the top of his, making yourself comfortable

“Thank you for saving my life earlier.” You spoke quietly as you wrapped your arm around him, soothed by the rise and fall of his chest. He was quiet for a moment.

“I would do it all over again. I’m not leaving your side so long as we’re still playing these games.”

Those were the only words you needed to hear, shutting your eyes as you finally drifted off into a peaceful slumber as you could feel him pull the blanket over the two of you. For the first time in a while, your body felt at ease. You felt safe, like there was nothing in the world that could harm you. Even if it was just for the night.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; “Cassie has a sexuality crisis, Kon has a gender one, and Circe makes everything worse”. tw: internalized homophobia, unintentional misgendering of a closeted character. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

This mission sucks in a lot of ways, the least of which is trying not to make eye contact with Tim during any of it, which the whole “being stuck in a small room with someone wearing a mask with opaque white lenses” thing makes way, way harder than it has to be, in Cassie’s opinion. 

“You do realize that blatantly projecting anxiety in every single conversation and constantly overcorrecting your behavior to try not to hurt Superboy’s feelings will upset him worse, right?” Tim says, which is another way this mission sucks. 

Stupid Bat-psych profiles.

“This seems like a conversation to have while we’re not breaking and entering for justice,” Cassie says to the door she’s watching for intruders, her arms folded and eyes locked on the doorframe. She wasn’t even weird this time, dammit. Like–not loudly weird, anyway. 

“Well, I tried to get you alone for it four times already and you dodged all four attempts with noticeably not-thin excuses, which means you’ve definitely been planning ahead to do said dodging, as opposed to actually just being busy,” Tim says. 

Dammit, Cassie thinks, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. 

“You are literally his best friend,” she says as evenly as she can, digging her fingers just a little tiny maybe-kinda-bruising bit into her arms.

“I’m your friend too,” Tim says. 

Stupid Bats. 

“When I went to Themyscira last month I met a girl that reminded me of Superboy without realizing that she reminded me of him until after I’d already screwed her,” she snaps flatly. “And yes, specifically all the things about her that reminded me of him were the things about her that I was attracted to, except because she had a huge rack and a big fat launched-ten-thousand-ships ass that her barely-tied peplos barely covered, well, this time those things actually turned me on. So also-yes, I am the worst and I am going to keep feeling like shit about this, thanks for asking.” 

“I didn’t even know I liked guys until I ran into you-know-who again,” Tim says. “Genuinely did not realize it was a thing, despite definitely having had a weird obsession with what, in retrospect, is a truly embarrassing amount of dudes for a straight guy to be weirdly obsessed with.” 

“Is this about Nightwing’s V-neck era?” Cassie assumes. 

“I mean I think I actually was crushing on him when I was, like, a literal toddler, which was much earlier than that, and also I was probably a little bit too interested in literally everything Robin 2.0 ever did in his career ever,” Tim says. “And, like, the time Red Hood beat my face in while wearing Robin’s colors was an interesting experience that I learned absolutely nothing about myself from.” 

“Um,” Cassie says. 

“Also I wasn’t trying to clone Spoiler in the basement,” Tim adds, half-tilting his head.  

Cassie . . . blinks. 

“What?” she says. Tim’s currently occupied with whatever he’s doing to the terminal, apparently, so just shrugs without looking up at her. 

“Ninety-nine times really does not seem like a platonic amount of times to try to bring someone back to life, I think,” he says. “Like, platonic cloning probably only covers about the first fifty attempts, max.” 

“Robin, I would believe your insane abandonment issues would try to clone literally anyone you were even passingly fond of ninety-nine times minimum,” Cassie says blankly, trying to . . . process that, kind of. Is that–like, that was not a subtle thing, what Tim just said. 

“I mean, I thought about it a few times,” Tim replies with another shrug. “But I only did it the once.” 

“. . . ‘the once’ times ninety-nine, you mean,” Cassie says, and Tim smiles wryly and finally spares her another glance. 

“That, yeah,” he says. “And I built an entire illegal cloning lab, memorized literally every single detail of the night I met the original Robin before the violent trauma happened, stole a codename and costume from the subsequent Robin not once but twice, and still genuinely just assumed I was straight ‘til a dude who I knew for less than six months in high school showed up out of nowhere and actually, you know, directly asked me about it.” 

“World’s second-greatest detective, huh,” Cassie says, then has to repress a grimace, because–well, that’s the joke Kon always makes, obviously. 

“I mean you don’t have to have your whole identity figured out from day one,” Tim says. “Superboy definitely understands that, if anyone does. All of us do. Impulse tried to make himself be Kid Flash and hated it, I assumed things about myself instead of actually thinking about myself, Secret was afraid enough of herself to end up becoming a supervillain over it, and Superboy’s been having an identity crisis since the day his cloning tube got cracked. Also, literally Arrowette’s entire life experience. Just . . . literally everything that’s ever happened to Arrowette. Ever.” 

“You didn’t mention Empress,” Cassie says a little lamely, trying not to grimace at herself, because–that’s all true, yeah. She knows it’s all true. Just . . . just it never felt . . . 

“I think Empress might’ve actually sprung into existence fully-formed just to embarrass the rest of us over the course of our respective self-discovery journeys, but all my supporting evidence is technically conjecture,” Tim says, which may or may not be a joke. Who knows, with Tim. “But the point still stands. Superboy’s not mad at you for not knowing something about yourself. None of us are, but especially not him.” 

“I knew,” Cassie says tightly, digging her fingers into her arms a little harder and staring at the wall. “Part of me, anyway. I just thought . . . he’s the perfect guy. I thought if the perfect guy liked me . . . I thought that’d–fix it. I thought that’d be . . . enough. Like–he was already the celebrity crush I lied to all the girls at school about having, just because I thought he was–you know, cool and everything, and so–and then when I actually got a chance to meet him, and then we all wound up teaming up . . . I just thought . . .” 

She’d thought a lot of stupid things, but the stupidest ones had probably been about Kon. 

Those were the things that’d actually gotten somebody else hurt, so . . . yeah. Definitely the stupidest things. 

[crazylittlejester]

“Okay, so if I jump like this, then twist like this on the landing, and use that momentum to carry me forward, then that can work in place of that footwork in the middle of the sing, because I’m not sure that would be possible on the ice without face planting.”

Twilight hummed and nodded in all the right places, aware Warriors wasn’t really looking for his input. Twilight knew as much about skating as Warriors did about tending to a farm, that is to say, only as much as they had picked up from each other.

The sound of the skates gliding through the ice was starting to get on Twilights nerves. They’d been there for hours, Warriors so focused on perfecting the dance that he’d completely ignored the way Twilights hands were slowly developing frost bite.

“Can you hurry up! It’s freezing in here,” he called out to his friend, who was skating lazy circles as he thought about the next step.

“That’s the ice Twilight, it tends to be cold.”

Twilight waited until Warriors wasn't facing him before sticking his tongue out at him. he immediately regretted it, as now even the inside of his mouth was cold.

“Come on Twi, normally I’m the one complaining about being cold, and you’re lording your warmth over me. Where’s that warmth now?”

Twilight sighed heavily.

“Your out there skating and jumping and shit, I’m just standing here, slowly freezing to death.”

Honestly, who thought it was a good idea to go ice skating in the middle of December. His idiot roommate, apparently.

“You could join me you know, get the blood pumping,” Warriors offered.

Twilight scoffed, well aware of the results of the last time Warriors convinced him to skate with him.

“Just hurry up. I won’t be able to film you if my fingers are too frozen to click record.”

Warriors did one last circle before coming to a stop.

Twilight chose to believe it was a coincidence that the spray of ice was firmly in his direction.

“Okay Okay. Fine. Just let me run through the whole thing once with the music, then we’ll film it.”

Twilight rolled his eyes before hitting play, giving Warriors enough of a buildup in the music before the dance started that he could get his bearings.

The rink was blessedly empty, no one else was insane enough to be skating at 10 am on a Tuesday morning in the middle of winter, so no one else was around to complain as the sound of Jonathan Baileys voice filled the air.

Twilight wasn't entirely sure why Warriors insisted on doing the popular choreography on ice instead of solid ground like regular people. When he’d asked, Warriors had just said something about “pizazz,” before walking off to get his skates.

Sky had suspected it had something to do with proving himself, although what exactly he was proving Twilight didn’t know.

Sky wasn’t the one stuck here while he was doing it however.

Twilight only hoped Sky would fulfill his promise of making them hot chocolate when they returned.

Warriors reached the last steps of the routine, finishing with a midair twist.

A lot of the moves in the dance didn’t translate well to skating, so Warriors had gotten creative. Instead of being stationary, he was constantly moving, adding in the occasional jumps. Twilight was a bit worried about some of Warriors old injuries, but knew pointing it out would just lead to his roommate getting self conscious and overcompensating, which had never failed to end up with him more injured. So instead, Twilight kept his mouth shut, simply hitting record when he was told to.

Warriors started the routine again, adding various winks and other performative facial expressions whenever he was close enough to the camera.

It was times like this that Twilight was grateful Warriors had gone into skating and dancing instead of becoming a full blown theatre kid. The world may not have survived.

Warriors reached the end of the dance, adding an elaborate spin at the end that he hadn’t done in any previous run throughs.

Twilight rolled his eyes, waiting until Warriors was stationary before stopping the recording.

“Now that was just showing off.”

Warriors skated over to the gate nearest Twilight.

“Showing off? I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Twilight tossed Warriors water bottle at him.

Warriors, the bastard that he was, caught it.

He sat down, taking a large drink before moving to untie and clean his skates.

Twilight sat beside him, massaging his stiff legs.

“Remind me again why Wild couldn't film you?”

Warriors took off his skates.

“He and Hyrule are doing some sort of nature photography at the national park.”

“So we’ll never hear from them again?”

“Probably not no.”

Twilight snorted as he stood, offering a hand to Warriors, who took it. He hissed as he stood up.

“Sore now?”

Warriors nodded, and Twilight sighed. Sometimes Warriors forgot that he wasn’t in the same place he used to be, where he could skate for hours without issue. He needed to work back up to it.

Twilight reminding him of that would do nothing however.

“Come in, let's get you home to Skys hot chocolate. I’ll even watch an episode of one of your stupid soap operas.”

“They’re not stupid, the plot lines are deep and complicated.”

“Whatever you say captain, whatever you say.”

----

----

okay first off i just wanna apologize for answering this so late because I got sick and then i couldn't answer it from my phone which was so so mean but I read it like the second i saw it in my inbox and OH MY GOD ANON. SCREAMING AND SOBBING I ADORE THIS.

Twilight whining and complaining, Warriors being a little show off (he SO is), that comment about Wild and Hyrule disappearing off to take pictures and they'll never be seen again? LAJHKHD AUGHH I LOVE THISSSS thank you so much for writing it it truly made my day :)

[gingerteafairy]

OMG could do more about Dave x Todd x Black!Reader. The first one is so good, seriously, I don't want to sound dirty but something like them taking her in the doggy position, I don't want to explain that but I hope you understand 😭😭

Oh, i get it, anon. I'm thinking about it everyday...

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐜 (𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐞)

tags n warnings: smut/mdni, threesome, raw doggy, blowjob, language, praise kink, breeding if you squint, cum eating. word count: +300. masterlist

Your relationship with Dave and Todd went beyond the term "best friends" or "lovers". Soulmates would perhaps be better, even if it was still weak. It was like being always in tune with everything, in sync.

You were on all fours, your favorite position for this, back arched like a cat. Your ass up, reddened from Todd’s slaps, your face contorted in pleasure with your lips on Dave’s warm cock, succumbing to his soft taste.

Todd kept the slow rhythm in your needy pussy, while Dave kept your mouth stuffed, muffling the lewd moans that came out of your throat every time Todd touched that spot. It was a pleasure trip.

Both kneeling on the bed. Todd watched how your cunt swallowed his entire cock, the dark colors of your folds attracted him so much. You might be insecure about it, but it was what he loved the most.

He always loved how your colors blended together, constantly wondering about it every time he jerked seed inside your womb.

“Uhmm…” you nodded, unable to speak, closing your eyes tightly as you felt Dave’s tip on your uvula.

“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth,” Dave whimpered at the contact, the wet noise of saliva, gagging and your entry. You didn’t blush easily, melanin protected, but at those times, you always looked as red as he did. It drove him crazy.

To that melody, they increased the rhythm, while you moaned louder, choking on Dave’s cock, having his pale hand holding your chin to see the tears.

“Sorry, fuck…hnng” Dave muttered, grunting as he felt your throat tightening with discomfort, mixed with Todd’s massage inside you. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you look at me like that…”

“Shit, you’re so…” Todd groaned, pulling your hair as he set a rhythm. His veiny hands went to your waist to hold your body that went back and forth with his thrusts. “I’m going to fill this pussy. You're so greedy, bet you’ll want Dave later like you always do… hmmm —fuuuck—take it all…”

Dave held your head with both hands, his hips moving frantically until they began to slow down, spurting cum on your tongue and cheeks. Not more than a second, you felt your own wave of orgasm as Todd’s white strands filled you completely. In sync, once again.

[j-crow]

watching house md rn

[theswedishpajas]

The man truly can’t take a genuine compliment 🙄

[raskies456]

on second thought, most of y’all never did actually figure out the whole aphobia being perpetuated by joke posts equating asexuality with cringiness thing so idk why im surprised to see so many of y’all falling for the same exact shit when it comes to polyamory

[quietwingsinthesky]

.

[bluehairmisfit]

Not to make “tag vent sunday” a thing but Idk how I can go from having a great string of days where I feel happy and confident to just. Randomly fucking dropping. And feeling like the actual worst.

[bibleofficial]

where is my fat husband

[kaywavy]

my beautiful wives

[mint-mumbles]

Gonna use this image any time someone says something low key sexist about Sable (ie "she's showing too much skin" regarding a fucking bathing suit 😭🤦)

I don't hear you complaining about Spirit 😭

[speedysoda]

Some team: Hey exe community, we’re looking to make a full restoration of every well-known exe fnf mod! This is not in support of any bad people or in spite of controversy, this is for preservation and to celebrate how far the community has come! Hope you’re excited.

Half the fandom for some reason: No!! That’s terrible!!! Screw you!!!!

[okcoolthanks]

Cod I hope I feel like dressing feminine tomorrow