#but yeah fucking insane that this other place actually got back to me even if it was a semi-automated thing

[mythalism]

it’s so interesting bc i actually was not one of the people advocating for an inquisitor da4 main character like many others were before we knew anything about veilguard. like i fully wanted and expected a new protagonist because yeah it makes sense to have a new protagonist for a new story in a new place. but then they literally wrote a game where every 5 seconds i went “wow this would be so much more impactful if i was playing as my inquisitor”. “wow sure wish i was playing my inquisitor right now”. “wow this would be the culmination of a 10 year journey for my inquisitor but im playing as some random idiot instead.” like they COULD HAVE written a story where it made sense to be rook and that’s what i expected and anticipated. but the plot of veilguard is not that story.

anyway this is 100% about me being bitter that it’s rook and not my lavellan that got to go meet the fragment and earn mythal’s favor. like my dalish first lavellan who was elevated to near godhood by the armies of the faithful against her will coming face to face with the all-mother the most central goddess of her people and having her be a total fucking bitch to her…. if lavellan was the one to look her in the eye and say that she should have respected solas more…. for her to confront her over the blight and for failing to be the goddess her people needed……. for her to earn her respect and favor after everything she had seen and been through…. the has walked through her temple she has completed her rituals she has met her sentinels and they called her SHEMLEN but if she could just prove herself to MYTHAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this isn’t even beginning to touch on how both of their love for solas would come through in this moment. even without that it would be an insane moment for any dalish inquisitor that just does not feel satisfying for the only vaguely elven rook who cannot even be sufficiently dalish. and even for non-elven inquisitors…. MORRIGAN CONFIRMS JUST BEFORE THIS CONVO THAT MYTHAL WAS WITHIN ANDRASTE!? so any inquisitor would get to confront the prophetess they are the herald of. any inquisitor could mention meeting Flemeth and how this Mythal should help them because that other part of her helped them once before. any inquisitor could bring up their shared betrayal by solas. god there is so much they could have done with this FUCK!!!!!!!!

the reason they couldn’t is probably because the moment mythal realized that my dumbass inky had both 1. fucked solas and 2. drank from the well of sorrows she would make her head explode with a thought. actually now im thinking about how insane this would be. imagine she basically casts a successful feeblemind on an inquisitor who drank from the well who challenges her + romanced solas and then u gotta drag her back to the lighthouse and tell solas his super ex situationship feeble-minded his most recent ex gf because she was dumb enough to drink her bath water after he begged her not to. ok brb actually i should write this

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

I've been looking for this one au where Len basically becomes a mad scientist and turns his friends into robots one by one for a while now, and I'm beginning to realize that I just read through your blog while half asleep a few months back and mixed together my memories of your flower hivemind and composite au

this is very funny to me. i'm absolutely honored this blog's posts were enough to evil-farming-game an entire vocaloid au into your memories 😂

i can give you this doodle; it's composite au but i'm sure it'd fit very well with this theoretical mad scientist len au lololl

[seilon]

th. the hotel I’ve been applying to for like. the entire year. actually emailed me back via the hiring manager(?) about a position asking for more info. but. i may already have a job in the bag at another place finally (technically with the same company). what the fuck

[itneverendshere]

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"

pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG

wrote this listening to roses <3

Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that. 

Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back. 

The humiliation was killing him. 

Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasn’t just enough to ruin her reputation—he wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasn’t. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.

And that’s when he noticed you.

Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.

You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didn’t utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.

Hell, he didn’t even know you were a cheerleader until that night. 

Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica. 

You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background. 

You were perfect.

If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasn’t as irreplaceable as she thought. 

“You really gonna do it?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you, “Oh yeah. ‘M doing it.”

“Nahh, there’s no way you’re pulling this off.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelce’s skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.

 “You think so?” he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “Watch me.”

Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? She’s cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but she’s not queen material.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. “She’s got potential,” he said confidently. “Just needs someone to show her how to use it.”

Topper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane. This isn’t some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly she’s hot. Jessica had something that can’t be taught.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rafe pointed out, “It’s all about confidence man. Jessica wasn’t born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.”

Like a school project, he thought to himself. That’s all you were. 

Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. “Alright, I’ll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because she’s got a long way to go, my guy.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. “Give me two months. By the end of it, she’ll be turning heads. Maybe even more.”

Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. “Two months? No way. I’ll bet you a grand you can’t pull it off.”

Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’m in. A grand says you can’t turn her into the hottest girl in school.”

Rafe’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on,” he said, without hesitation. “In a month or two, you’ll be handing me that fucking cash, and she’ll be the one everyone’s talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.”

Kelce raised his glass. “To Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelce’s. “Here’s to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.”

He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed. 

“You better start saving up.”

This plan was flawless. 

It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easy—too easy. She’d fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal. 

The next day, he started showing up at places he knew you’d be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didn’t approach you, just observed. 

He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.

You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. “Hey,” he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. “You’re in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldn’t believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.

He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldn’t afford that.

You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.

“You always this buried in work?” he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.

You glanced up, surprised he was still there. “I guess. I have a lot to catch up on.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I hear you. Econ’s been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?”

He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… fine. Just a lot of material.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professor’s trying to torture us?”

You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. “Maybe. It’s kind of her thing.”

Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. “You mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. “Um, sure. I mean, if you want.”

“Definitely,” he replied smoothly. “You seem like you actually know what’s going on, unlike me.”

He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didn’t push, didn’t try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.

“I’m sorry about Jessica.”

The way you blurted the words out told him you hadn’t meant to say it. 

Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didn’t want—Jessica’s name being brought up, especially by you.

But he couldn’t let you see that. 

He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. “You know about that?”

You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. “Yeah… I mean, it’s all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I just—I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “I guess it’s just one of those things, y’know? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.”

You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page. 

“She shouldn’t have done that to you.”

He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasn’t angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. “But hey,” he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, “Everything happens for a reason right?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. “Right."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re not like everyone else around here. You’re real, y’know? Genuine. I like that.”

Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “I’m just…here.”

Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to see that.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.

Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, “Thanks, Rafe."

Oh, you were too perfect for this.

He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.

 “Anytime."

It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.

But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place. 

He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. “So,” he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “You think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because I’m pretty sure I’m doomed without you.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another. 

Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. He’d walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.

He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

He’d invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differently—nothing too drastic, but enough to catch people’s attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.

The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place you’d only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on you—made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.

“I don’t know… I’m not really into parties,” you admitted.

Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?”

His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. “Okay. I guess I could give it a shot.”

The first party was initially awkward—loud music, people you didn’t know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged. 

But Rafe stayed close. 

The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonight—more confident, more assertive. 

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re with me. Have some fun, sweets.”

You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on you—on both of you—were hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.

He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.

“Guys, this is her,” Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “Told you I’d get her to come out with us.”

Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. “Well, well, Cameron. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. “Nice to meet you. Rafe’s been talking you up.”

You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. “Nice to meet you too.”

Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.

“So?” Kelce asked, “How’s the project going?”

Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Better than expected. She’s starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but I’d say we’re on track.”

Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. “She seems… nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?”

Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Topper shrugged. “Just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what you’ve got planned.”

Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s sweet, alright. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She’s not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, it’s gonna be legendary.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “Exactly. She’s perfect for this.”

He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyes—something he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.

When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy he’d been playing for you all night.

“Got something good?” he asked, nodding towards your drink.

You giggled, holding up your cup. “Just punch. Thought I’d start slow.”

He snorted, nodding approvingly. “Smart move. Don’t let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.”

The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourself—whether to grab another drink or use the restroom—his demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and he’d share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.

But you didn’t see any of that. 

You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to come down.

Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. He’d spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.

But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.

He knew better than to get too comfortable. 

He knew his ex wouldn’t stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.

“Rafe, can we talk?”

He didn’t look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasn’t even worth the effort. But he couldn’t resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. “What’s up?”

Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”

She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. “Don’t act like you don’t know. She’s a nice girl, I know she’s not your type.”

Rafe couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Jealous?

Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—guilt. 

“No. You’re just going to use her to get back at me? That’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve that.”

He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. “You didn’t think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?”

"Rafe."

"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."

Jessica flinched, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

“Do you even realize what you did to me?” The memory of the last time he’d trusted her flashed before his eyes—the way she’d smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair.”

Jessica’s expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying it for her."

"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"

"You're being difficult for no reason."

Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didn’t get to play the moral high ground after everything she’d done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.

“Stay out of it, Jess” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d been expecting this. “Just think about it before you do something stupid."

Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment he’s attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.

This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.

But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game. 

Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself. 

He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like he’d planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasn’t just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.

One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun you’d had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up—it caught him off guard.

“Thanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought I’d actually enjoy these things, but you make it… I don’t know, easier, I guess.”

Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words. 

“I’m glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.”

You looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didn’t have to be this nice to me.”

For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.

His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. “It’s no big deal. Really.”

But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.

You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you too—your innocence, your trust.

He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Rafe… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you began, your voice a little hesitant.

He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Yeah? What’s up?”

You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. “Why did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or… or something else?”

Rafe’s mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t hurt you. He could lie, like he’d been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.

But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. “Because… I’m glad you did. Whatever the reason was. I’ve never felt this… this good about myself. And it’s because of you.”

Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

Fuck. He’d never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasn’t just part of his stupid revenge plan.

He’d thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve always been amazing,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I just… I just helped you see it.”

You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls he’d carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.

He couldn’t let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan.

But pushing you away now, after all the effort he’d put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned down and kissed you.

It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.

But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.

The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.

You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

This was wrong. 

He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.

What the fuck was he doing? He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldn’t help but feel that he was the one who was losing.

Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessica’s words mocked him.

“I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior.

But now, lying there alone, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was any different. He didn’t plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.

How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.

And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyes—these were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.

The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something else—you.

Rafe’s resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.

When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met you—still shy, but with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed. 

He noticed everything about you these days.

“Hey,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Anytime,” he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. “Ready for another day of fun and learning?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadn’t been there a month ago. “If by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.”

He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. “I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. You’re just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.”

You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again.

“Yeah, that’s me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.”

“See? I knew it,” Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldn’t quite shake.

The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.

“Rafe, can I ask you something?”

He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding.

“Sure sweets, what’s up?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit he’d noticed you had when you were nervous.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he’d been dreading—the moment when you’d start questioning everything. He couldn’t afford to slip up now.

“Why not?” he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didn’t expect. “I like you. I like being around you.”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if you’d decided to believe him.

“Okay,” you said. “I just... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? It’s just... new.”

“Good new, though, right?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “Good new.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafe’s effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more. 

Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with you—a far cry from the shy girl he’d first approached in the library.

As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.

“Hey, you two,” she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. “Mind if I join?”

“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.

The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something you’d done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise.

Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.

When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. “She’s nice. I didn’t think she even noticed me before.”

“She notices you now,” Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just... thinking.”

“About what?”

He leaned back in his chair. “About how you’re starting to steal everyone’s attention here. What am I gonna do when you’re the most popular one around here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”

Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.

As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.

Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Yo, Cameron. What’s up?”

Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. “I need to talk, man. About the bet.”

Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafe’s voice. “What, you already feeling bad for her? Didn’t think you’d go soft so fast.”

Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. She’s... she’s actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious.

“Dude, we all knew she was nice. That’s what makes this so good. You’re flipping the script. Just remember why you’re doing it.”

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but... She trusts me."

And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.

“Look, Rafe, you’re in too deep to back out now. If you quit, she’ll still get hurt, and you’ll look like a fucking idiot. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? It’s not about her, it’s about Jessica.”

Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldn’t see him. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. I just needed to clear my head.”

“Good,” Kelce said. “Now go get some sleep or something. We’ve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, man.”

By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened.

You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching you—a guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.

The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close.

The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadn’t expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.

You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you weren’t used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.

Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.

When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.

“Rafe, what’s—”

He didn’t let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didn’t care who was around, who was watching. 

All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.

You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.

Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get enough.

People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didn’t care. He didn’t pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at him—dazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

“What... what was that?” you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.

Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him. 

He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching. 

Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. She’s mine.

When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something else—something that looked a lot like longing.

He knew he’d just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.

“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice softer now. “We’ve got class.”

You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.

As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.

“Rafe—”

“You’re my girl,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. “Okay?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didn’t care.

“Rafe…” you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. “I just… I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, us—"

“Okay.”

He was already in too deep.

And just like that, he got what he wanted. 

The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together.

The next two months were a dream—utter bliss. You weren’t just happy; you were radiant. You’d become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale. 

Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldn’t get enough of you—your sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.

But deep down, in a place he didn’t dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes.

He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didn’t matter anymore.

After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.

Until it ended. 

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

It’s after cheerleading practice, and you’re alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but there’s something different today—a tension you can’t quite place. 

As you’re zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldn’t normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.

"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."

Oh.

Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"

Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafe’s been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

No. No, this can’t be real.

Leila’s voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation she’s causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. She’s out there thinking he’s her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."

Jessica doesn’t say anything, but you can’t bear to hear more. You feel like you’re suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.

Before you know it, you’re running��out of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare that’s suddenly become your reality.

The ache in your chest doesn’t fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.

You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movement—squeaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.

He’s in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus you’ve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leila’s words slams into you like a wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.

You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you don’t care. You’re beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what he’s done.

"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.

He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name.

The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you. 

Now, all you see is a liar.

“What’s wrong baby?” He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.

You don’t answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together.

But it’s impossible.

“Was I a bet?”

His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.

For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you it’s all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.

He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explain—”

“Was I a fucking bet?” you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you can’t control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.

His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but there’s nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.

“It started as a bet,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, it’s as loud as a gunshot. “But it’s not like that, I swear. I—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you can’t stop. It’s like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation you’ve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you don’t have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly he’s messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away, 

“We’re done.”

“Please, just listen,” he pleads, his voice cracking.

“No.”

And with that, you leave. 

Rafe’s voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and you’re left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.

“Go away,” you say, your voice barely holding steady.

“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained with desperation. “Not like this.”

You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?”

He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I—”

“But you didn’t,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “You let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t a game,” he insists, his voice cracking. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.”

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.” 

Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation. 

“It wasn’t a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actually—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you. That’s real.”

For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.

“I don’t even know who you are."

You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.

“It isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “It’s not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.”

Rafe takes another step closer, “Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”

"You don’t get to have a chance. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.”

You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you can’t. 

Not this time.

With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “I’m done.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.

But you’ve made up your mind. 

“I mean it. We’re done. I need you to stay away from me.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he can’t believe what you’re saying.

But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows there’s no coming back from this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction. 

The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind. 

The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t feel victorious. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, “What now?” He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.

This time, he doesn’t follow you. 

[rimunagenius]

It’s Time You Switch

ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

ʚ word count: 4.4k words

ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!

| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.

Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.

"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.

You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.

"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.

"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.

"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.

"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.

You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.

That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.

You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.

"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.

"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.

"Paige, that's a little mean."

"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.

"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.

Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.

"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.

"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.

"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.

"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.

"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.

"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.

"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.

She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.

Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.

"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.

"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.

You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.

Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.

While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.

Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.

"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.

"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.

You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.

You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.

You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.

You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.

She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.

You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.

Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.

She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.

Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.

She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.

Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.

She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.

The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.

"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.

"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.

"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.

The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.

"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.

"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.

Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.

The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.

You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.

The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.

She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.

Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.

"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.

The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.

You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.

You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.

Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.

There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.

Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.

"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.

"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.

You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.

The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.

"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.

"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.

That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.

"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.

The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.

Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.

She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.

Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.

Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.

Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.

It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.

Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.

"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.

Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.

Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.

You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.

The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.

"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.

"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.

"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.

"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.

"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."

"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.

You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."

"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.

"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."

[baby-yongbok]

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

[irndad]

She favorites recipes on Instagram. 

It’s a little embarrassing how Carmen knows- that when she’s at his place watching him sketch dishes she can’t taste, he’s also paying attention to what’s on her phone. And it’s usually kistchy things- dresses and outfits with legwarmers, pop-culture breakdowns he doesn’t have time to understand, and yes, occassionally, recipes. 

Carmen adores her company. It’s a private truth, one that they boht know and yet he can’t admit under her gaze. She’s a friend of Richie’s which is endlessly fucking confusing. Both because of how incredible she is, and because it is truly insane to imagine Richie with friends. 

Carmen supposes they’re friends too, now. It doesn’t feel quite right, the way she scribbles notes for him in the mornings and has slept over quite often. She’s busy, has her own life and her own career and he’s lucky for the time he spends with her. He doesn’t really have time to date her the way he’d like to, with dinner dates and late night drives down Lake Shore, watching the sunrise over the lake on mornings where time feels like no object. 

He’s clearly given this some thought. 

Anyhow, it doesn’t matter now. Now, she’s slept over. He’s got a full-size, which felt like a good enough excuse to share the bed, even though every time they do he still ends wrapped around her like a vice, like roots of a tree, raveled in a way that seems inpenetrable. 

She’s sipping on an energy drink- he’s offered her the coffee that he’s imported, and prepared with care, but she’d obviously thought it was too bitter. And now he keeps energy drinks in the house when she stays over. She’s popped in one of her wired earbuds, and the light washes over her like a halo. She’s got a bonafide glow while she sits on his counter, scrolling through recipes. 

“That looks good,” he hears himself say, a little outside of himself, as she stops scrolling. It’s a pasta dish, and she’s favorited it. It looks more complex than it is, really, but he’s not sure he’s a good source.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I had it once when I was in Paris. It was fucking insane, Carmen, it’s so good. I’m always looking for a place to get it. I don’t really think there’s a place in Chicago where you can get it, actually.”

“It was seasonal actually,” he says back, her eyes fixed to his now, “Ever used to make it every fall. Easier to source the pine nuts.”

She looks so, so fond of him that Carmen could entertain the idea of leaning over the counter and kissing her. It’s incredibly tempting, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, endeared by his knowledge. He feels guilty, how he plays with the pencil, knowing she’s stared appreciatively at his hands. He enjoys being pretty to her, leaning into the fantasy that he could be more than her weird fuck-up friend of a friend that’s too chicken-shit to ask her out. How odd is it, that he knows what it’s like to wake up to the smell of her shampoo, but has no idea how she likes to be kissed?

He’s so bad at this he’s failed before he’s even started. 

He can cook, though. 

Cooking is methodical, and so he does it. it’s an easy love language, for him. he dices the parsely and the other fresh herbs, sautes them wirh precision, uses some of the nice butter from work- it’s a marvel, at the end of it, fragrant and warm, waiting for her arrival. 

When she does make her arrival, just on time for him, he plates the dish before she comes in. 

“Oooh,” she preens, raking her eyes up and down him. He feels perciebed, but in a way that he’d like to be. Look at me, he thinks. What a pleasure to be seen by her. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he stammers out, “Thought I’d thank you for all your help. Late nights you’ve been staying up with me, talking through the menu and all- thought I could make you something.”

When she tastes it, it’s careful and adoring, and he’s good at this. 

“Yes chef,” she says teasingly, “Oh my god, Carmen, this is so sweet. You didn’t have to do that. I like being here.”

He wants to kiss her again, doesn’t know why he’s not letting himself. She meets him halfway, though, kissing the corner of his mouth that only a fool would imply has plausible platonic deniability.  

“Thanks, Carm.”

“Anytime.”

He’ll kiss her properly next time.

[worldlxvlys]

ice

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttt, ice play, tittie fixationnn, cursing

a/n: hope you likeee

based off of these snaps

i watched as matt picked up a piece of ice from his cup, popping it in his mouth like a piece of candy.

“you’re fucking insane for that” i said, looking at him as though he was crazy.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, yeah. you think i’m weird for eating ice, i’m aware”

“you’re right, i do”

“well you’re entitled to your wrong opinion”

“i’m never wrong” i narrowed my eyes at him.

“well, you are now” he said as he got up from my couch, walking towards my kitchen.

i quickly followed him, refusing to back down so easily.

“no, i’m not. you’re trying to tell me it’s normal to be obsessed with frozen water?”

he held his cup up to the fridge, filling it up with more ice from the dispenser.

“there are plenty of people who enjoy eating ice. maybe you’re the weird one”

“no i’m not. i just don’t like ice”

he tilted his head at me, squinting his eyes at me.

“you sure about that, princess?” the look in his eyes made my heart race.

he moved closer to me, making me slowly back up. my back was met with the hard marble of my kitchen island.

“yes” i said in a small voice.

“that wasn’t very convincing” he said, condescendingly.

my eyes shifted down to his hand, watching him pick up a piece of ice.

because i had no plans of actually going anywhere today, i opted out of putting a bra on under my tank top this morning.

matt took full advantage of this decision.

he placed the small cube against my clothed nipple, making me jump.

“shit! matt, that’s cold” i gasped out.

“that’s the point baby” he smirked at me.

he rolled the ice cube around my nipple, making my head fall back.

he gently pushed me back onto a barstool.

“those beautiful thighs are gonna be giving out soon baby. can’t have you falling” he said as he pulled the straps to my top down my shoulders.

he pulled the top down just enough to free one of my tits. he put the ice cube to it, while massaging the other through my top.

i bit my lip, trying desperately to suppress my moans.

“still don’t like ice?” he asked, watching as i tried to keep a straight face.

“no.”

he pulled my top over my head, exposing my boobs.

“let’s fix that” he said, taking what was left of the half-melted ice cube into his mouth and bringing his lips to my boob.

“o-oh fuck!” i yelled, as he moved the ice cube around.

my nipples were so hardened they almost hurt.

“god, matt” i sighed out.

he continued to swirl the cube, letting it melt on my skin. he continued to lick and lap at my nipple, even once the cube was gone.

he started to suck, leaving dark marks all over my chest.

“god, i love your tits” he whispered into my chest, looking up at me. the sight alone made my panties even wetter.

“so fucking perfect” he said, placing a kiss on both of them.

“take these off for me, baby” he said, tugging at the waistband of my pants.

“no.”

“excuse me ?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“you heard me. take it off yourself”

“no.”

we both glared at each other, waiting for the other to break.

we played this game often, both being too stubborn to break.

i’m not giving in.

“beg for it” he said.

“no”

he took a piece of ice and slid it around my stomach.

my breathing picked up, trying to fight the way my body reacted to the the cold.

he slowly moved the ice under my waistband, making my hips jolt.

“shit!”

he placed the ice against my pussy, making me clench around nothing.

he licked a stripe up my neck, stopping just below my ear.

“tell me you like the ice” he whispered in my ear, his voice raspy.

“no”

he moved the direction of his hand sharply, pressing the ice against my clit.

“tell me you like it” he started to rub circles on my clit with the ice.

“mmmmm” i whined.

the ice was now almost fully melted, and the stinging sensation paired with the sensitivity of my clit made my stomach tighten .

“say it” he pushed the little bit of ice left inside of me, making me shudder.

“no” i said in a broken moan. he removed his hand.

“fine” he said as he backed up.

“what? what do you mean fine?” i asked.

he licked the fingers that he just had in my pants.

“i’ll stop. i mean, you don’t like ice, right?”

“wait, matt-“

“no, it’s fine. i’ll just enjoy the rest of my ice by myself” he shrugged.

he can’t be serious.

he took a piece of ice from his cup, making an obnoxious slurping sound and moaning.

“god, i love ice” he said in an exasperated tone, almost mockingly.

i just stared at him in disbelief.

“well, i’m going back to the couch” he said. “and if you even think about touching yourself, i swear to god, i’ll edge you for hours”

if he thought that would stop me, he was wrong.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

part 2 ??

updateee: pt 2 is here, go readdd :)

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chris @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing The Kings to Your Plushies

me and my bestie have a joke about my faves showing up to my place for sex and i would not realize and just start talking about my plushies based on this dumb post we saw once, thought it'd be funny to turn into an actual scenario lol might do this for the other devils, angels, minhyeok if the ppl are interested lol notes: mildly sexual - not really anything deeply insane, gender neutral reader !!!

Satan

On one hand, he thinks you're really cute. On the other hand, he's here to fuck so.

He's going back and forth so much in his head for a moment he's not even paying attention to you talking oops.

Gets so frustrated and angered from trying to decide what to do it ultimately ends with him just jumping on you.

Cut you off mid word with an incredibly heat filled kiss from rage.

Honestly you might not even 100% be certain what happened but you're not complaining!! You can always talk about the rest of your plushies later!!!

Well. If Satan doesn't fuck you until the point you're resting for the next couple days.

Once he actually pays attention to you talking about them he'll remember some names here and there, but he will get them wrong on purpose to try and see you angry lol.

Mammon

The reality is he probably got you most of these plushies.

He adores seeing how you cherish them and the lore you've decided for them!!

Will remember every single detail you tell him about them!!

He thinks it's super cute and will humor you for the moment.

However, Mammon will get what he wants eventually. But for right now you're so adorable how could he tell you no?

He is DEFINITELY teasing you later once he does get to sleep with you about how cute you are.

This man lives to see you embarrassed and shy from his compliments.

Is probably buying you even MORE plushies now, hope you're prepared for that!

Leviathan

I think it depends at the point in your relationship, if it's early on he might just toss the plushies aside and get to the point of what he wants.

Later on I do think he genuinely listens, even if he's impatient and pretends like he doesn't care. If it's important to you he does care, just doesn't always show it.

Especially if you use the plushies as a form of comfort due to trauma or any other issues.

You won't even realize how much he paid attention until he refers to your plushies by their names if you accidentally leave them laying around.

However he does still get jealous so so easily so maybe try not to spend too much time at once focusing on them rather than him.

He tries so hard but eventually the jealousy will overtake him and he will just get straight to the sex.

For what it's worth, he still found you cute! He just can't help himself.

Beelzebub

I'm not gonna lie, you might be able to successfully distract him for a good bit.

Dude's invested in the names and lore and anything you have created for them!!! He likes hearing about it !!!!

He isn't gonna be able to remember every single bit of these details but he might remember some of it here and there. Either way he likes listening to how you talk about them!

That being said he can only sit still for so long so maybe introduce him a little at a time lmao.

Especially because once he DOES start to get distracted he's gonna remember the original reason he was here.

And well. Yeah just like that it's time to fuck!

Because you successfully distracted him for a bit you might be in store for an extra long session this time so! Good luck!

Lucifer

He listens fully. Wants to hear everything you have to say about them.

He finds the plushies super cute, so he enjoys listening to your ramblings, even if he had certain intentions when he arrived.

But most importantly, he's so endeared, you're so absolutely adorable to him. The way your face lights up when you talk about them, he can't get enough!!!!

So he lets you have your moment.

And when you're finally done is when he's actually gonna fuck you lol. Yeah, that was still happening he had a goal.

And if he's teasing you extra specially tonight, don't even worry about it (whether it be from compliments or degradation who's to say!! just know you're gonna be crying extra hard this time he's so worked up from how cute you are!).

Of course, he remembers every single detail you tell him, he has that shit committed to memory. Asks you questions sometimes to see that adorable look on your face again!

Belphegor

Goodnight.

He tries to pay attention but he's ready to fall asleep apologies.

He showed up for sex and when it wasn't happening his brain turned off.

That being said the second you realize he's asleep and start trying to wake him up he's on you!!

Like okay conversation done we're fucking now right?

It's just easier to give what he wants and lecture him in the process.

It's fine he tries to listen later. That being said if he invites Beleth to listen too don't worry about it. He totally didn't tell him to memorize details for him because he's probably gonna fall asleep again.

Asmodeus

Sorry there's just no way to distract this man from sex.

If he's showing up for sex he's here to for sex !!!!

And he WILL get it!!!

If anything he just starts fucking you while holding up the plushies to you and asking you details about them.

Unfortunately you're kinda too fucked out by that point to truly answer them.

He's a fucking menace apologies.

And he cannot be stopped I fear.

That being said any information he does manage to get out of you he does fully remember!!

It's his own weird way of showing affection, ya know?

[sim0nril3y]

Handy Man

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon begins to notice that some things around your flat are a little worse for wear, so he makes it his job to fix them. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, smut, p in v, very little foreplay, dirty talk, praise, cumplay, creampie, canon-typical swearing.

The sound of sizzling frying in the pan seemed to become background noise around your idle chatter, using a spatula to move and flip it around the pan whilst you spoke. “… and she was telling me…” Even your incessant talking became background noise instead all that Simon could focus on was that sound of the drip, drip, drip of the tap. His eyes focusing on it like it was a target he needed to eliminate. Drip, drip, drip it mocked him again and his fingers tightened on the mug in his grip.

Did you not hear that? Did it not drive you fucking insane? Simon’s eyes flickered over to where you stood with your back to him, continuing to natter mindlessly. “… I was thinking that she had to be joking…” Then you laughed whilst drip, drip, drip consumed his attention again. “… there was no bloody way…” It didn’t faze you at all. No, you simply kept your attention on the bacon in the pan that was swiftly becoming burned. “… Oh, and then-”

“Love.” His voice was tight and stern as you glanced over your shoulder at him, eyes bright and inviting, reminding him that you didn’t think like he did, you didn’t obsess over the tiny details and that was something he loved about you. “You, uh… you got any tools 'round here?” He asked, standing in a moment to approach the offending tap, observing it, moving it, turning it on and off a couple times. “Tools?” You quizzed before frowning heavily, moving the bacon aside and switching off the hob. “Oh.” The opening a stiff looking drawer to produce the oldest looking screwdriver he’d ever seen. “I have this…” Announcing like some accomplishment.

Under his breath he muttered. “Fuckin’ hell.” Holding the tool in hand, gripping the handle hard before throwing it aside uselessly. “Stop fussing.” Your voice announced then, placing down a plate that held freshly made bacon sandwich where he had originally been sitting. “Whatever you’re obsessing about…” You took a hearty bite of your own sandwich. “It can wait…” Another bite. “Until you’ve eaten…” Then licking your fingers as you grabbed the condiments from the fridge and held it out to him. “Red or brown?”

Simon’s shower had been everything but relaxing. The water had been cold for far longer than he had appreciated and directly above him the light flickered so horrendously that for a moment Simon could have convinced himself he was at a rave. “Light is flickering in your bathroom.” Simon announced, towel wrapped around his waist as he stepped into the lounge to find you. “What’s that?” You quizzed from where you stood observing a canvas, then turning to him. “The light. In the bathroom. It’s flickering.” He reiterated in a low voice whilst your eyes were lingering on his broad chest, watching the water trickle down his skin. “Oi. Pay attention.” Simon bit out playfully.

Snapping you from your trance a low hum came from your throat. “The… light…” Then out made a small noise of recognition. “It’s actually always done that.” The statement followed a careless shrug as you turned your back to him to regain focus on your painting. “You told your landlord?” He asked with concern. “Uh, yeah…” The response was quick and Simon knew you too well. “Think I’ve mentioned it before. Said he tried to fix it but it was some bigger wiring problem, or something…” Another shrugged and it bothered Simon significantly.

He had a problem with you living in a place like this. It wasn’t a good area to begin to live in. Outside teenagers screamed and caused mayhem all night, idiots drove cars around too fast and noisy at night and others got up to shady things away from prying eyes. Too many times Simon had left your flat to find never seen before dents in his car or a bunch of teenagers loitering around it. It didn't scare him but he didn’t like the thought of them playing the same tricks on you.

Besides all that, the flat just wasn’t up to standard for you. It was tiny and cluttered and half of it didn’t work or was in the process of falling apart, all that on top of knowing that you rent was way too high for what you were getting. Simon knew he needed to fix this.

That evening a frown pressed to his lips as he walked into the bedroom with a couple glasses of water. Placing one down beside you he pressed a kiss to your hairline. Then moving to the other side of the bed Simon stopped by the radiator. His hand reaching out to touch it as he frowned. The heating was on full blast everywhere else, so why wasn’t this one hot at all? He removed his hand and touched a different part and his frown intensified. “This rad isn’t working…” He mentioned as you glanced up from where you were rubbing a sweet smelling moisturiser into your legs, as if you could be anymore soft and supple, Simon lamented internally. “Isn’t it?” “You didn’t know? Babe, it’s stone bloody cold.” Then pressing his hand to it again, as if he might have gotten it wrong, but it remained completely unchanged beneath his fingers. “I know that must bother you ‘cause you’re constantly putting your cold feet on me.”

A delicate laugh fell from your lips. “Well, what’s the point of having a warm, strong body beside me if I don’t utilise it?” You jested causing Simon to scowl. “Wind your neck in.” He muttered, before trying to fight the smirk that pulled onto his face. Once again, his eyes focused on the radiator, as if his new targed. Simon mentioned. “Probably needs to be bled. S’not hard. It’s something you should learn to do…”

You simply nodded, continuing your night-time routine that he actually enjoyed watching, by the end you smelt absolutely delicious and he was more than happy to eat you. “Y’know, there isn’t much that works in this flat, babe.” He said then, moving to lay down on the bed beside you, leaning on his side in your direction. “That oven is dodgy. Every tap leaks. Lights flicker. Rads aren’t working….” Then he frowned again, reaching out to rub your knee. “These are things your landlord should be sorting…” For a moment you were quiet and then looked at him with a genuine smile. “I really hadn’t noticed, Si. I think I’ve just gotten used to it.”

It may have been something that you’ve gotten used to, but it certainly wasn’t something that Simon was going to allow. By the time that you woke up the next morning to your dismay Simon was gone from your side. Instead of worrying yourself too much you started your day and decided to put some more work into the canvas that you were obsessing over. Maybe some green? Or… maybe some blue… that would be a nice bit of contrast… what story were you trying to tell with this piece?

A knock interrupted you, placing down your brush and then wandering to open the door and smiling as Simon stood there, toolbox in hand. Your eyes trailed over his frame, looking as handsome as ever and very handy too. “Oh, you here to check my pipes?” You cooed flirtatiously causing Simon to chuckle as he stepped inside, kissing your forehead and muttering. “I think you mean clean your pipes, love…” He corrected you. “I’ll do that later if you’re a good girl and let me work.”

You allowed him as much time to work as you could manage, but as you found him working under your sink, tight dark coloured shirt riding up to reveal the trail of short hair leading down it seemed impossible to resist. “My-my…” You whimpered, your voice quaint and lewd as you sauntered a little further into the kitchen. “That is an awful big hammer you have there~” You purred in a breathy tone. “Maybe I could hold it for you~” “Fuckin’ hell…” Even without seeing him you could hear the smile on his face. “You’re bloody insatiable, love.” Sliding out from the cupboard to look at you standing there, shifting from one foot to the other as if waiting for his command. “Fuck, c’mon then…” He mentioned, lifting his hips off the worn tiled floors and shifting his jeans and underwear down to his upper thighs, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. “Hurry up.”

Hastily you moved to straddle his thighs, rubbing your clit in tight circles and humming as you warmed yourself up, stroking his cock languidly with your free hand. His eyes rolled back for a second, lower lip gripped between his teeth. “C’mon, baby…” Large hand spanked your hear and a moment later you were lowering yourself onto his hard member, gasping at the way it intruded and stretched your slightly underprepared walls, pressing your hands hard to the wide expanse of his chest as you happily bounced your hips. “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Quicker now.”

The look on your face was completely enchanted with lust and love, unable to form even the most basic of sentence. All you could manage was huffing and puffing, bouncing yourself with an unsteady rhythm. “C’mon, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” Simon grit his teeth, plating his feet on the ground and resisting the urge to begin to fuck up into your relentlessly, if you wanted this then you were gonna work for every fucking second of it. “Go on. Ruin that perfect little cunt on me…” His hands cupping and caressing your hips, feeling the way they faltered and sort his guidance.

In your defence, it was difficult to concentrate on keeping a rhymth with the way your thighs were burning, Simon had a way of keeping you his pillow princess, so times when he made you work for it felt extra hard. Not to mention, the way his cock split you open was mind-numbing, each time you sunk down his cock would press firmly against your special spots before bumping firmly against your cervix, kissing it before sliding back and promising to meet it again mere seconds later.

“S-Simon~” You cried softly, feeling your thighs cramping and pressing your hands firmly into his chest before your desperate eyes found his own. “Simon, please~” The sound was nothing more than a whimper, but it was enough for him to take mercy on your poor worn body. Beginning to thrust up firmly into your tight cunt, locking you into place with a firm hold on your hips. This produced loud gasps and moans beginning to tumble from between your lips, instead of planting your hands into his chest, now your desperately curled his shirt between your fingers. “Ohfuck. Ohfuck.” You cried helplessly.

“C’mon pretty girl.” He muttered coolly, fucking up into you without stopping or pausing, finding lasting stamina that were thankful that he had. “C’mon, get yourself there. You know how. Show me.” He pressed, watching the way your fingers slipped down and began to rub your clit in tight circles, whimpering, leaning forward, panting and then finally. “Simon~” That beautiful noise. Oh, he if he could play it on repeat in his head he fucking would. It was like a fucking lullaby that would coax him into a peaceful sleep everynight.

The way your body convulsed and locked up above his own, Simon observed with adoration, taking in the way your eyes rolled just slightly before sealing closed, mouth popping open, tongue sometimes bit between your teeth, nose scrunching, chest thrumming. It was fucking beautiful. Every second. He wanted to enjoy it over and over, but the way that you tight walls strangled his cock caused him to splutter out a low noise and then begin to shoot his thick load inside whilst your walls milked him for every pump.

There you leant into his body, breathing hard and both completely spent. It was bliss. All his worries had disappeared, the sound of that dripping sink was gone and instead replaced with your adorable whines as you slowly regained composure, smiling down at him so sweetly and carefully sliding from his length and sitting beside him.

For a moment he lay there, his body almost numb and then reaching over to pull your thigh aside and watching the way his cum seeped from your spent walls, convulsing weakly as it dribbled to the floor. “Beautiful.” He commented, closing his eyes for another second and committing that image to memory. “That’ll be me through the rest of this…” Simon mentioned, reopening his eyes and gazing at your cunt one final then and then tucking himself away. “Go on. Off you go. I got work to do.” Climbing back under the sink and resuming his handy work as if he hadn’t just destroyed your sweet cunt.

“Yes, sir~” You cooed, carefully climbing back to your feet and lingering in the doorway. Still sensing your presence Simon spoke without looking. “Thought I told you to bugger off.” Listening to you giggle in response. “Just give me a minute, I’m trying to think of another porny handy man line to use on you…”

Masterlist | Ask | 16-11-2023

[doremimosasol]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 ๋࣭⭑

warnings: suggestive (trying to get into it more please forgive me), swearing

word count: 0,7 k (just a small one this time :))

a/n: thank you so so much @slytherinslut0 for proofreading this and giving these amazing adaptions, I love you <3

Oh, Mattheo was always so goddamn needy. 10 minutes until class? Not ideal. But Mattheo did a lot of things far from ideal. Once you gave him the chance to lay his hands on you, he never stopped.

How you’d finally gotten here was almost mind-boggling to him after months of just trying to get you to look at him, months of wondering how those delicate hands of yours would feel on his body. However, it was more than that. He didn't only want your touch on his skin, he wanted it on his soul. Gods, he’d never craved someone as much as he craved you.

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t control himself. Thoughts running wild when he stared at his ceiling, finding their way back to you without failure. His mind was consumed by thoughts of you. It drove him insane, resulting in endless sleepless nights.

Oh… but when he finally got you to look at him, when he finally got you to speak to him, the thoughts only got worse. You were definitely interested, it must be. Were you though?

To him, it seemed all too coincidental. You woke at the same time as him, and ate breakfast at the same time as him—your minds must be connected. You went to the library at night, you must've known it was a habit of his too. Take the same routes as him? Gosh, you must be in love with him.

But maybe you actually were falling for him, you saw him more than you saw your own friends. Everywhere you were, he was. Coincidence? Hell no. Schedules of each other in the back of both of your minds.

It didn't even take a month before he had you pressed against the wall of one of the broom closets. Hot breath, fervent fingers, charged atmosphere. You wanted each other. He was hastily moving his hands over your shirt, cursing it for getting in the way of his goal.

"For fuck's sake, let these buttons open up already."

Warm breath hitting your ear while he let his hands travel everywhere they shouldn't be. He was so hot, everything about your interactions was hot. Fingers inching closer to the place where you desperately needed them most.

You two never kissed though, the contact of lips unnecessary in the heat of those moments. It would make it feel too real. Because if you didn't kiss, nothing happened right? You could just go on with your lives until the next time.

And that's how you both acted around each other outside of the places and moments he worshipped your body. No traces left on each other, a secret.

10 minutes until class, enough time to get your high. For each of you to get your fix. But not nearly enough time to calm down—both still on edge in class. The steady yapping from the professor at the front was not even remotely being absorbed. Eyes glued to each other, unable to wipe the feel of fingers on skin from your minds. The heat of each other's eyes reflecting the heat that you both now so desperately tried to cool down.

And every time it became more real, the passion was not only present in those rooms but now when you both were around each other throughout the day. The nagging feeling. The emotion undeterred.

You knew it was over when you two finally kissed. You were in far too deep to turn back now. Because it already felt too real, and you both knew it. Once you started, you couldn’t stop — not doing anything other than kissing that night. Trying to make up for the time you waited.

Bodies moving in sync, not even able to catch your breath. You felt out of this world. Yet he was still by his senses, still making sure his body was driving you to your high. Once he heard the familiar sound of your moans he knew, he once again succeeded.

His breath hitting your ears, burning your skin. "Let's make this fucking real, yeah? Be my girlfriend, please be my girlfriend." He was begging... or demanding?

Of course, you said yes. You finally caught your breath, only for it to be taken away once more — and more and endlessly more times.

[g4yforethan]

LOST IN YOU

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x male!reader

summary: request from a while ago

warnings: cursing, smut, bottom!reader, praise k!nk

a/n: i actually have an obsession with chris evans atp it’s not even funny 🫡

you had gotten out of the shower and only had on your towel when a knock on your bedroom door startled you. “umm i’m changing right now!” you said hoping the person on the other side would understand. “aww come on y/n it’s just me and bucky! we have a lil surprise for you!” you recognized that voice anywhere. it was steve rogers, your muscular and extremely attractive friend who you wished was more than your friend. “yeah y/n we need your opinion on something.” you were curious by what bucky said and quickly opened the door. you were shocked to see both steve and bucky shirtless and only in their underwear. “oh my god are you guys insane?! what if nat or tony sees you?” they both laugh and enter your room while bucky locks the door.

“haha they’re all on a research mission right now. it’s just the three of us for now.” steve said with a grin on his face as both him and bucky sat next to you on the bed. “well what did you want my opinion for?” they both looked at each other with mischievous looks. “you see i don’t know about this underwear. i mean does it look good on me?” steve turned as you noticed his huge bugle and muscular ass inches away from you. “yes steve it looks amazing on you.” you try not to stare too long as you felt yourself slowly getting a boner. “okay my turn now. what do you think y/n? take all the time you want.” you also noticed his massive bulge poking out. “it looks fantastic on both of you truly.” you said as your face turned red.

“oh yeah? well would it look better like this?” steve pulls down his underwear and throws them on the ground. “oh yeah way better steve. my turn now.” bucky in return pulls down his underwear as well. you were in shock and thought you must be imagining. “now y/n it’s your turn.” steve said as he placed his hand on your chin and bucky massaged your shoulder. you got up and removed your towel as the both of them looked down excited to see you were ready. the three of you got into bed as steve and bucky quickly attacked your lips and neck. they both took turns devouring your lips while their hands moved all over your body. you moaned as steve but your lip as bucky massaged your cock. “oh yeah we’re gonna treat you just right y/n.” bucky said as he pushed you on top of him.

you kissed his chest and went down to his cock and began sucking on his hard and thick cock. all while steve watched stroking his dick and begging for your warm throat. “you know what to do cap.” bucky said to steve as steve quickly got behind you and began licking your hole. you moaned as steve teased your hole with his finger while bucky continued stuffing his cock down your throat. "it's gonna hurt a little baby but just trust me." steve whispered in your ear before you felt you felt a tight pressure on your hole. he entered your hole slowly and placed his hands on your lower back while you continued making out with buckys cock. as steve picked up the pace, you moaned in pleasure while bucky shoved his cock down your throat making you gag.

"fuck yeah y/n. hey steve, how about we switch?" bucky said as he felt your hole with his finger. steve agreed as bucky positioned you with your legs on his shoulders and steve behind you slapping your face with his cock. bucky entered your hole with ease and quickly began pounding it. steve followed as he rammed his cock up and down your throat. "fuck baby you're suck a fucking slut." steve said as he placed his hands on your face and continued using your throat. "ugh fuck y/n i think i'm gonna cum first." bucky said as you felt your hole fill with his warm and thick cum. bucky licked your leaking hole and kissed you on the lips before laying down. "ugh fuck your hole felt good. captain, he's all yours." steve smiled before laying on top of you and slowly inserting his cock inside you. you moaned as steve went at a fast pace and began to suck on your neck and chest.

"haha that's right cap fuck his hole." bucky said as he watched steve ram his thick cock inside you. your moans grew louder and louder so steve put his finger inside your mouth. "shush baby that's right. suck on my finger." you sucked on his finger while you felt his sweat come onto you. "ughh fuck y/n. fuck im gonna cum." you felt that same warm sensation of his cum fill your insides as steve laid back and let out a big exhale. "hey come on steve we can't just leave y/n hanging. it's not like he's our sex toy. haha come here baby boy." bucky lifted your legs and began licking your hole. you started stroking your cock as steve began playing with your nipples and kissing them. "ugh fuck that feels so good." you said as bucky kissed your hole. "lemme help you there y/n." steve said as he removed your hand and filled his mouth with your cock. "just ram it in there." he said as you shoved your cock down steve’s throat.

“ugh fuck i’m gonna cum.” you said as an overwhelming sense of pleasure ran through your body. “cum in my mouth baby.” steve said as you filled his mouth with your cum. you exhaled and laid between them. “fuck you guys. we can’t tell anyone about this.” you said as you worried about the avengers finding out. “don’t worry about a thing y/n. this will just be our little secret.” bucky said as he played with your hair and steve held his arm around your body. “now lay back and get some rest. you did a good job tonight baby boy.” steve said as you slowly closed your eyes and drifted to sleep.

[fir3ylolol]

we want you!

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: The hot military rep on your college campus finally talks to you, but what happens when he gives you his number?

word count: 2.4 k

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab!reader, very light dom/sub, sub!reader, gentle dom!johnny, he still whimpers tho, kind of anonymous sex, making out, biting, praise, hes actually rly sweet, smut, porn with plot

a/n: DILF JOHNNY DILF JOHNNY im so happy with how this turned out!! OH! and I've got another mk1 johnny fic halfway done so keep an eye out for that :))

other parts

Ao3

It wasn’t really fair to call you a college student. Were you still actively going to college? Yes, but! You were studying for your master’s degree. Totally not the same thing.

So you didn’t feel that bad about paying attention to the very hot military representative that you always saw on campus. He was insanely built for an older guy, tall and graying near the temples. Black sunglasses always cover his eyes, you couldn't tell if he was cocky or just avoiding the kids on campus. You wanted to talk to him but honestly? He made you sort of nervous.

He’s just so handsome and confident, nodding your way every time you pass him. But finally, after a couple of months, you decide it’s your turn to be confident. He’s stood next to a table under a pop-up canopy, looking around for more people to scout. You walk directly towards him, trying not to falter any of your steps. He finally notices you, quirking an eyebrow and smirking your way.

Fuck, that’s even hotter.

But it’s too late to back out now, as you stop a few feet from him. Nervous to meet his eyes, you clear your throat and manage to ask, “How’s the military this time of year?” He chuckles lightly, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose. “It’s not too bad. You know, I’ve seen you around campus, but you always seemed like you were in such a hurry that I didn’t want to bother you.” You mentally curse yourself for pretty much scaring him off.

“Well, you know how it is. Places to go, subjects to study. I have been wondering why you haven’t said anything to me. I always see you chatting with other students. I just figured it was because I wasn’t the right material.” You try to be less nervous and casual, leaning against the table as well. He looks down and laughs again, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into his tactical vest. He looks up, wide brown puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

Shit, can he stop being so hot??

“Nah, you’re too good for us, you’re needed out here. Besides, they only have me out here for star power.” You look quizically at him. I guess he did look sort of familiar. Then it hit you. “Oh shit, you’re Johnny Cage!.” He laughs again, who knew you were this funny?? “You just realized? I guess I’m not as famous as I once was. That, or without the tattoo, you can’t really tell.” He unzips the vest slightly and pulls his collar down, showing hints of a large tattoo of his own name across his chest. You fluster slightly at his show, “Wow, yeah, that makes a big difference. Wait, why are you in the military?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, my ex-wife basically recruited me and honestly, it’s been more fulfilling than being an actor.”

And there it is, the awkward reason that someone so hot is single. Coughing lightly, you look away. “A-ah, well, that’s…good.” Sensing that he might’ve just said something a little uncomfortable, he quickly grabs a leaflet and pen from the table and scribbles something on it. “Hey, I feel bad about taking up so much of your time. Here.” He hands it to you, sticking it almost directly into your arms. As you take it and look at the very rushed writing of what looks like his phone number, he flashes a signature smile. “So we can continue our conversation at your leisure.” Folding it up and putting it in your pocket, you try to smile back as confidently. “How kind of you, Johnny. I’ll take you up on that.” As you begin to walk away, you hear Johnny call after you. “Wait! What’s your name?” Turning around slightly, you wave and yell back, “Take me out first!” He laughs slightly and puts his sunglasses back on, light glinting off them mischievously. 

As you get back to your place, you pull the paper out and put it on your bed. This is crazy, you know? He’s like twice your age at least. And a celebrity! But…he wouldn’t give you his number unless he wanted you to text him. But not yet. You didn’t want to seem desperate. You decide to eat a bit of food and check on your grades, trying to ignore your nerves. You can only wait so long though, and you grab the paper again. Putting his number in, you take way too long to figure out what to say. God, you feel like a middle schooler, getting nervous about some cute guy. But you finally pull the trigger, sending a simple hello and hoping that you were the only person he gave his number to.

He responds almost too quickly, immediately recognizing you and being happy that you decided to message him. You smile at his words, then quickly shake your head, embarrassed at how quickly you were getting giggly over him. But you can’t stop yourself, half-flirty messages sent back and forth the rest of the day. Man, a guy like this is dangerous. He’s smart, funny, secure in himself, and genuinely so nice. Plus, he spends half the time talking about you, asking questions, and seeming truly interested. It’s hard to find a guy like that.

As day turns to night, you get ready for bed. As you lay down in bed for mindless social media time, you get a text from Johnny. As you click on it, your eyes widen in shock. A selfie of him, laid out on a hotel bed, completely shirtless with wet hair lights up your screen. Finally able to see the full tattoo, plus the insane muscles he has, you need a second to catch your breath. He captioned it ‘ready 4 bed, but hotel beds r always uncomfortable’. You feel like you’re drooling over him, how can a 50-year-old look like that?? He quickly sends a ‘hope youre feeling comfy’ and you feel compelled to take a pic for him. Fixing your hair and lighting in preparation, you make sure that your pajamas are actually cute. After way too many tries, you get the perfect one. You send it with the caption ‘oh u know it ;)’ and immediately throw it onto your bed, nerves absolutely shot. After a few seconds, your phone buzzes. And buzzes again. And again.

Picking it back up with shaking hands, you see his praise flooding in. ‘oh wow’, ‘you look so good like that’, ‘comfy is definitely a good look on you’, and ‘ur room is so cool too’ are amongst the least of the texts he’s sent. After a short pause, a final text arrives.

‘i didnt think you could get hotter but you proved me very wrong’

All of a sudden, you lose the walls you set up to hold yourself back. The mood is switched rapidly, and honestly? You are no longer nervous about talking to him. It’s time to have fun.

Y: ‘you think im hot?’

J: ‘of course, i have eyes you know’

Y: ‘i mean, i thought i was too young for you’

J: ‘i wont say i didnt notice, but honestly, if you dont mind i dont’

Y: ‘perfect’

J: ‘god, youre so hot’

Y: ‘youre not so bad yourself. dont think i didnt notice those muscles’

J: ‘i was that obvious huh? sorry, i couldnt help myself’

Flirting back and forth, you begin to lose your inhibitions even more. Flirty turns to sensual to almost overtly sexual. Something weird about what happens when the sun goes down. Like a horny werewolf. That was, until, he sent the exact right message.

J: ‘i wish i could see you rn, teasing over text can only do so much’

Holding your breath, you can’t stop yourself from a much too bold text.

Y: ‘come over then’

J: ‘what’

Y: ‘come over, you said you dont like hotels and you wanna see me’

Y: ‘here (address)’

Y: ‘your move hollywood’

J: ‘omw’

Freezing and realizing what you did, you rush to pick up your house a little. It wasn’t messy but still. Nerves. It’s a surprisingly short wait until you hear a gentle knock at the door. Seeing him stand there in the pajama pants you saw earlier and a jacket, you unlock the door. Both of you stand there, waiting and breathing. Finally, he steps in, his right hand shooting to your waist and left hand closing the door behind him. Quickly, his lips meet yours in a messy clash, tongue and teeth and desperation. Finally, you pull away, panting and trying to catch your breath. Your brain finally processes that it’s really him, touching you, standing right there.

And it’s not too long before you begin to kiss him again, hands wrapped around his neck. His hands travel lower, squeezing your ass with a groan. With surprising ease, he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He breaks away again, asking in a breathy voice, “Bedroom?” With a nod, you manage to get out, “That way.” He starts the kiss back up, walking towards your room.

You expect him to toss you down on your bed. You’re kind of used to jacked guys having too big of an ego in bed. But he leans down gently, placing your back on the bed. His lips move down, kissing your jaw, neck, and chest, leaving little bites and hickeys along the way. You shiver at the feeling, he's much more tender than you expected, but you’re not complaining. One of his hands slides under your top, swiftly removing it. The cool air of the room can only be felt for a few seconds before his warm tongue latches onto one of your nipples, coarse fingers lightly twisting the other. Light moans slip from your lips as his other hand caresses your hip. He groans at the sound, pulling away slightly to mutter out, “Shit, you sound so good, baby.”

Continuing to play with you, his free hand travels lower. He finally dips below your waistband, quickly finding your wetness, another moan escaping his lips. Finally breaking away, he moves lower, crouching on the ground next to the bed. Slowly, he pulls the last of your clothes off. You’re fully exposed in front of him as he practically eats you up with his eyes. Placing chaste kisses against your pussy, he dives in, licking with a fervor.

Unable to hold yourself back, pornstar moans pour from your mouth. It eggs him on further, moaning against your sensitive clit, and gently curls a finger inside you. Pulling away to breathe, he rasps out, “You taste just as good as you sound. And feel even better.” He keeps working at you, pushing you closer and closer to cumming. Another finger pumps inside you, his thumb rubs your clit, and his free hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. He notices you about to finish, rapid pants and breathy moans, and leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on love, come for me. Let me feel that pretty pussy clench around my fingers. Put on a show for me baby.” And there you go, grabbing onto his shoulder and throwing your head back, cumming around his fingers. He slowly removes his fingers, admiring you while lewdly sucking on them. That earns another groan from him and he cleans his fingers, not waisting a drop.

“Good job, you did so good for me.” He kisses your forehead, quickly removing his shirt. “You ready for more?” In your half-fucked out state, you nod rapidly as he finishes taking his pants off. God damn, aren’t older guys supposed to lose testosterone or something? Rippling muscles littered with light freckles, salt and pepper hair swept out of his eyes, and cock fully erect and waiting. He scoots you onto the bed further, climbing on after you. As he kneels at your legs, he looks down hungrily. He leans in and kisses you, body leaning onto yours. With a final questioning look, which is met with a resounding “yes please” from you, he lines himself up with you.

Slowly, he sheaths himself in you, hissing at the sensation, “Oh god, you feel so fucking good, so tight around me.” Your legs wrap around his waist again, pulling him even closer. It takes you a while to adjust, gentle kisses on the lips to distract you. With a final kiss against his cheek to reassure him, he begins to move faster and faster, grinding against you with each thrust. He’s unable to hold back from loud moans and whines. Readjusting, he leans back and grabs your legs, setting them against his chest. He starts fucking you even harder, nearly knocking the wind out of you. Both of you are definitely annoying your neighbors, loud and unabashedly lost in the feeling. He can’t help the praises falling from his lips, rasps of “so good”, “you sound so sexy”, “you look so good under me”, and “I’ve wanted this for so long, you don’t understand”. The lewd sounds that fill the room are drowned out completely by you two. He seems proud of how you bounce below him, hands desperately searching for a hold on him.

Moving your legs back around his waist and leaning down, his pace is relentless and he’s lost the rhythm in his movements. You kiss against his tattoo, biting lightly against it, which earns another delicious whimper from Johnny. He starts to snap his hips especially hard as you begin to scratch lightly against his shoulders and back, whining out “gonna come, ‘m gonna come”. There’s almost no time to react before his hips snap in violently one last time, coming deep in you. A final moan escapes his lips as his hips stutter with the force of his orgasm and how much physical effort this required. Both of you breathe heavily, trying to regain some composure. He's trembling slightly at how hard he came, pressing his forehead against yours. He pulls out very slowly, a light whimper at the feeling as he lays down next to you. After a long pause, he starts to speak again, voice shaky but words confident.

“So I’ve got two questions for you. Can I know your name now, and do you wanna go again?"

[tofixtheshadows]

I should've made this in the first place to go as a reference to my post about Kabru rarely being shown eating (and when he does it, it isn't pleasurable) and linked it somewhere. I didn't feel like I needed to go through every example and based on people's tags I do think everyone gets it ... but I'm compiling this anyway because I find it really interesting from an artistic/writerly standpoint.

Like, Kabru obviously is eating meals in the abstract sense. But as I said, Kui almost never actually draws him putting food in his mouth. At first I assumed that she was avoiding it to save on space because he needs to be shown talking instead, but as I've looked back, I've noted that she doesn't usually shy away from giving characters speech bubbles even when they're chewing or they have utensils in their mouths. Unless they're Kabru.

This would realistically be the best time to actually show him eating, since it's a normal meal at a normal restaurant, but no. He doesn't actually put food in his mouth in this entire scene. They show him taking a bite in the anime, so I almost forgot, but honestly the manga just makes it look like he's picking at his food. Again: I'm sure he does eat this meal. My point is that I think it's a deliberate choice to keep that off-page, to contrast all the other characters who get to both visibly eat food and enjoy it.

As mentioned, Kabru is only shown drinking wine while his party eats the snacks in chapter 32. I think it's possible to infer that he doesn't actually eat any food here at all.

The harpy egg omelette bit barely counts as eating lmao we all saw him struggling to even swallow a bite down. Let's move on.

Quick sidebar:

Are we all going insane over this panel or is it just me? Okay continue.

Like with the omelette, it gets a checkmark for actually going into his mouth but no checkmark for enjoyment. He hates this. He's being spoon fed bad cake and patronized.

Next:

Literally the worst meal in Dungeon Meshi lmao.

Barometz:

He does actually eat this. Rare Kabru mastication panel, not clickbait. But it's kind of a sad moment when you remember that he was looking forward to a cultural dish of his mother's- literal comfort food from his childhood- and instead got the weird godless crab-meat-plant that is the barometz. This may be the only time Kabru goes looking for comfort, and he's pointedly denied it.

Next:

Yeah he isn't drawn eating during this entire scene either. Only drawn holding the food and his utensil.

As stated: still never shown eating. Deliberately shown getting Mithrun to eat instead. Kabru, the call is coming from inside the goddamn house.

Bavarois is next, and once again it gets a checkmark for actual on-page chewing but as we see, he still hates it and has to concentrate very hard and block out all thoughts of what he's doing in order to swallow it down without making a scene.

Okay. Faligon feast. Kabru does canonically spend days eating for the sake of Laios and Falin! Yay! Caloric fucking intake! Clean plate club!

And yet.

Literally shown stopping himself before he can put the food in his mouth.

Mickbell is so real for this. No one needed to hear a lecture from Senshi more than Kabru.

Anyway. Given how surgically precise Kui is with everything else in this story, I just feel the choice to constantly show Kabru focusing on his worries during mealtimes, instead of drawing him just enjoying food, was purposeful.

[deadsetobsessions]

As the girl who came up with the Triplet! Tim AU PLEASSEEEEE continue it!!!!! I NEED to see Bruce who thought he had one robin finding out he actually has three separate completely different ones

I gotchu lmfao I think I’ll get to Bruce later? I’m really happy you liked it omg like that idea is so good

——

Their plan was perfect! It would have been perfect, had it not been for Dick Grayson and his nosy face!

Batman might not have known his identity, but Dick Grayson did. He promised to keep it from Batman, but Tim hadn’t exactly thought about his secret identity when he showed up to harass the man into being Robin again.

And now, they’re paying for it.

Tim leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched Dick cradle his head in his hands, looking half a short breath away from a mental breakdown.

“Are you telling me… there’s three of you?”

“Yes, Dick.” Tim sighed, having answered this exact question ten times in the past two minutes.

Dick lifted his head, wide eyes looking a little feverish… no, looking a little manic.

“Tim. Your name is Tim, right? I’m not-”

“Yes, my name is Tim. Technically, so are the others. But the one here with us is Lionel.”

“No, wait, Tim, you understand how this is- insane, right? It’s not even remotely in the realm of mentally healthy.” Dick paused. “Wait, are you skipping school right now?!?”

“Has anyone ever told you your priorities are screwed up, Dick?” Lionel-Tim walked back into the room, hands full of snacks and, most importantly, Dick’s emergency marshmallow bag. Dick turned to Lionel, eyes full of guilt, and grabbed the bag of marshmallows like a dehydrated man in the middle of a desert who’s only couple of feet away from an oasis that he’s been looking for for days.

“Oh my god. I’ve had three younger brothers and I thought they were all the same kid!” Dick wailed, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and stress cramming it into his mouth. Tim threw him a disgusted look.

“To be fair, we made sure to train to act like each other from a really early age,” Tim said, snatching the bag of chips that Lionel chucked at his head. His snack laden triplet plonked himself on the plush spinning chair, shoving a hand inside the bag of gummy worms and cramming it down his throat as he spun around.

“I can’t believe I’ve never even checked up on you at your place!! If I did, I would have noticed it way earlier!”

“Probably not,” Lionel mumbled through his mouthful of colorful gummy worms. “You only caught us because Tim got beat half to death by an edgy crime lord teenager.”

Dick hunched into himself, a myriad of complicated emotions- largely, guilt and fury and heartbreak- wormed its way past his face. Tim glared and threw a chip at his triplet.

“It’s fine, Dick. Lionel’s just being an asshole. We’re taking care of it. Revenge prank.” Tim explained.

“He wouldn’t have caught us and you know it.” Lionel grumbled.

“I’ll help.” Dick mumbled dejectedly.

“You’ll have to get in line, Wing,” Tim went back to his laptop. “My thirds got first dibs, and I’m not planning on staying still either. I’m gonna mess with Jason’s slush funds.”

“He’s got a stash of cash locked up in the fourth safe house, but that’s not interesting. Look!” Lionel proudly displayed a duffle bag- from where he got it from, Dick had no clue- and unzipped it to show batteries, lightbulbs, and random bits and bobs.

“What is that?” Dick asked.

“That’s the second lightbulb in his bathroom light! This is the left battery in his TV remote! And this is half of his back up boot laces. I took all of his 10 mm sockets! And the specialized socket he got for his bike! And this,” Lionel grinned, lifting up a piece of fabric. “Is his pillow case!”

“Niceee.” Tim whistled. He tossed a piece of tech at Lionel. “Sneak back into his house and put that in between his pillows. It’ll keep both sides uncomfortably warm.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Is… this revenge for almost killing you?” Dick asked.

“It’s either this or complete and total financial ruin, social death, and then actual death.” Tim tapped away at his laptop.

“You’re kind of scary, you know that?”

“We know!” Lionel chirped.

“Base, come in.”

“Base,” Tim quickly replied, laser focused on Archy’s call. Lionel and Dick quieted.

“Hood’s lurking outside the school like a creep,” Archy muttered into the comm, papers rustling behind him.

Dick tensed, upset making itself visible once more.

“You still have the container I gave you this morning in your pocket?”

“Yes.”

Tim smirked in a way that made Dick suddenly have a horrible need to shake and lecture him on the moralities of not becoming a villain. “It’s glitter. Purple and pinks.”

“…Ah.”

“Godspeed, Archy!” Lionel chirped again, sounding slightly more demented.

A moment of silence before-

“Oof!” A puff. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, mister!”

On the other end of the comm, the gruff voice of a beefy teenager spluttered, “What- why do you- egh- my mouth! The glitter went into- pleh, pleh! What the fuck, kid?!”

“I’m so sorry! It was supposed to be for a project! I worked so hard to mix the colors right! Wait, stay still, mister! I’ll help!”

Archy, eyes wide and innocent, patted some more glitter onto the vigilante.

“No, stop! Stop! You’re getting it on my bike!”

“It’s a pretty color- oh hey, this is open-”

“No! That’s the fuel tank!”

“Oh! Whoops! Sorry!”

As chaos spread on the other side of the comms, Tim and Lionel burst into cackles. Dick choked on the marshmallows, helplessly shaking with laughter.

Lionel whacked at Dick’s back, hysterically giggling.

“That’s- that’s Archy?”

“Archy pretending to be Lionel pretending to be me yeah. I hope he got glitter in the fuel tank.” Tim grinned.

“Want me to patrol tonight to see if he got the glitter out of his bike?”

Lionel jabbed his pointy elbows onto Dick’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Distract him, too! I gotta mess with his safe houses. He’ll never feel comfortable in a safe house ever again.”

“Don’t go overboard, Lionel.” Tim looked up. “But also, I changed his WiFi passwords to 123456, so do with that what you will.”

Lionel grinned. Dick mustered up a smile in response, pushing the guilt away. He had a lot to make up to his little brothers, and if terrorizing Jason was how he was going to accomplish that… well, Dick’s not feeling too nice about Jason right now.

——

Batman squinted suspiciously at a humming Nightwing.

“Something happen?” He managed to ask.

“Hm? Oh, no, I got some nice pictures.”

“…I see.”

Batman, regardless of what his history might suggest, knew how to pick his battles. This? This thing that brought Nightwing’s murder smile? This was one battle he was willing to walk away from.

“Hey, B, you ever think about adopting more kids?”

Batman choked and promptly grappled away. Nightwing cackled.

“You can’t escape the question!”

Batman ran faster.

[pearlzier]

you look so pitiful right now. you're tucked into your boyfriend's arm, staring blankly at the phone in front of you as you attempt to ignore the aching pains filling your entire body. god, period's fucking sucked. you felt like hell, and even if chris didn't want to make it all about himself—seeing you so distraught made his heart ache in all sorts of dumb ways.

“if i could kick the shit out of your cramps, ma,” he spoke up, careful not to move you, “i would. i'd fuckin’ destroy ‘em.”

a small, faint smile plays on your lips at his words and you subtly shift a little closer, using him as a makeshift heating pad. not like you didn't already have one, but any extra warmth was good. “believe me, you'd have a hard time trying to get past me beating the shit out of them,” your words are lazy, a tiny bit uncomfortable to get out. this only makes chris whine a little more and he nuzzles his head into your shoulder.

“are you sure there's nothing i can do to help? anythin’?” his brows raise, fingers brushing over your arm in a gentle pass. you really can believe you got so lucky to get a guy like this, but you're in a bit too much pain bleeding out for you to uh, register that. “y'know, i heard uh.. a little trade secret, babe.”

you know full well he's gonna say some dumb shit, but you encourage his behaviour almost instantly. “i'm all for it,” you mumble into his arm, brows raising a little.

a little giggle almost instantly slips past his lips and he runs his fingers over your cheek, before he mutters, “period cramps can be relieved in some uh, intimate ways.”

“christopher—” he practically beams as he sees you giggle, and he raises his hands as if to surrender, before he gently shifts you over onto the other side of the bed so he could get up and grab you something to eat from the cabinet.

the man came prepared.

“okay, okay, what d'you want? we got everythin’,” he lifted a packet of chips, eyeing it for a moment before he glanced over at you, “what, as they say, tickles your fancy, huh?” he was such a dork, god. your dork, but still.

your eyes lift to look at the options he has available, and you slowly slink yourself upwards to see them with a little grunt. chris runs a hand through his hair, showing off the food he'd raided from the fridge without matt or nick noticing. “can i..” you frown for a moment, letting the wave of pain pass before you spoke up again, “surprise me, actually, i don't think i have the energy nor brain power to pick.”

“surprise you? gotcha, one sec,” he folded his arms over his chest, blue eyes flickering over the food before he grabbed the little packet of muffins, then grabbed you a drink as well. “these alright? i may be a bit rusty,” a grin plays on his lips, and he shrugs his shoulders.

“nah, you're all good,” you chirp, a smile brightening your face as he very accurately gets your favourite foods correct. “come back, please, i think the cold is seeping back in.”

a self-satisfied smirk tugs at his lips and he makes his way back over, muttering a quick, “too fucking good,” under his breath before he slinks back under the covers beside you, placing the muffins down onto the tray alongside your drink. “comfy?” he asks after a moment, voice a little softer.

“yeah,” you gently place his hand over your tummy to try get some of his warmth before you place your own over the top, sighing gently as you relaxed into his touch. he let his head sit against your shoulder, resting his chin happily.

after a little while, chris notices you fidgeting a little and he gently brings you into his chest and gently grasping at your tummy. “i got you, i got you,” he muttered, plucking your phone from your hands and holding it in one of his so all you had to focus on was holding onto him. laying back against the headboard, he breathes evenly. “just relax. i know it's hard.”

“you're the best, you know that?” you mumbled gently, sighing softly. even when your pain was insane, chris managed keep you relatively sane. your hands slide down to his and you interlace your fingers together, a little smile playing on chris’ lips. “the best.”

“just doin’ what i gotta for my girl,” he shrugs his shoulders gently—”s'no biggie at all.”

☆  𝅄⠀ㅤׂ    also asking who tryna be on the taglist <3