#listen it’s an honest mistake that anyone could make
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hijinxinprogress · 9 months ago
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Independently YJ are definitely geniuses but you put them within a mile of each other and their collective iq drops to zero
Cissie made the mistake of sending Cassie and Kon to pick up Anita’s birthday cake while she picks up Anita and Greta, Bart, and Tim set up the party decorations Cissie, letting Cassie and Kon in through the window: Did you pick up the cake?
Kon, leaning through the window: Yeah?? We’re not idiots
Cissie, deadpan bc she smells okra: then wtf is that?
Cassie, trying to figure why Cissie’s so stressed rn: Callaloo cake?? That’s what you asked for?? 
Cissie, about to lose it bc that’s in no way what she said: Kahlua cake
Kon, still trying to take Cissie’s temperature despite Cissie smacking his hand away: Yeah?? Callaloo cake, why do you keep repeating it…?
Cissie, in disbelief: No…Kahlua cake
Cassie, opening the box to show Cissie the cake bc they’re not stupid: Yeah?? Callaloo cake
Cissie, showing them a picture: KAHLUA CAKE
Cassie, through sobs: callaloo cake 
Kon, who thought it sounded kind of odd but figured it was a cultural difference that he or Cadmus didn’t understand: 🫢
Greta, trying to figure out where the hell they found someone to put callaloo and frosting on a cake: ???
Tim, who assured them it was in fact callaloo cake bc it sounded right and he was doing six things at the time:  😬
Yj, trying to do damage control (everyone’s yelling and trying to console Anita who’s not upset at all and currently goading Bart into trying the cake)
After that she definitely goes ‘don’t you mean callaloo?’ whenever someone on yj mispronounces anything
“I lost my fucking-!” “You lost your fucking callaloo??” “…Anita…Anita 😐 istg”
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lupinqs · 10 days ago
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paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!
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FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader
☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige
☆ ━ word count: 5.3K
☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)
☆ ━ links: my masterlist
☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad
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FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.
So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.
Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.
The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.
But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.
Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.
That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.
It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.
Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.
“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.
And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.
At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.
You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.
When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.
After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.
When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.
It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.
One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.
You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”
Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.
When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”
You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.
Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.
The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.
But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.
Because now you know two things for sure:
You’re gay.
And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.
And it turns out that she really likes you, too.
Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.
The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.
You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.
Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.
You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.
Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.
And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.
Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.
“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.
You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.
Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can’t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.
You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.
“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.
You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”
She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”
Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.
Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.
It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.
Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.
She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.
Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.
You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”
Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.
Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.
Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.
She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.
Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.
Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.
She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.
“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.
She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.
Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.
Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”
You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.
But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.
But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?
Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”
The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”
She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.
“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.
She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.
She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.
And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.
When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.
Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.
Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.
Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.
And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.
And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.
Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.
Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.
“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.
“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”
Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.
Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.
The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”
You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”
And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.
Fuck.
Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.
“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”
You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”
Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.
“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.
Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”
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violetskylights0 · 7 days ago
Note
Can you please do selvika if her and the reader did nnn(no nut November) like you did with vi (To be honest she would probably be like no 😭) Its ok if you don't want to
I am a Vi girl to my very core but I must give the people what they want. I thought it would be cute and short...and now we have some of the nastiest shit I have ever written. I hope it's everything you wanted and more xoxo. @starisinlovewiththemoon
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Games we like to play (18 +)
Prostitute!reader x Sevika
Warnings: Degradation/Smut/Pet names/Kind of cute?
No Nut November. Just saying it felt ridiculous. You’d heard about it before—whispers in the brothel about Piltover clients and their strange indulgences in self-denial. You’d always dismissed it as yet another quirk of the privileged: something to laugh at, not take seriously.
And it wasn’t like you had the luxury of turning down indulgence. Working at the brothel wasn’t about holding back; it was about giving people exactly what they wanted. Or needed. You didn’t care much either way—clients came and went, their faces blurring together after a while.
That is until Sevika walked in.
You’d known her by reputation, of course. Everyone in the Undercity did. She was Silco’s right hand, the enforcer with a mechanical arm and a short temper to match. People whispered about her in a way that made you assume she was ruthless, dangerous, someone you didn’t want to cross paths with unless you had to.
So, when she first stepped into your room, you froze. The light was dim, but there was no mistaking her broad shoulders, the scar cutting across her cheek, or the way her eyes flicked over the space with a calculated calm.
You expected her to bark orders, to demand something rough or impersonal. But instead, she went to your bar cart, poured herself a drink, and leaned casually against the wall. “Nice setup,” she’d said, her tone low and unhurried.
Her behavior threw you. You weren’t sure what to make of her—this woman who seemed both entirely in control and quietly restrained. You talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and the longer you listened, the more the fear melted into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue.
A drink or two in, though? That reserved demeanor? Gone. That night, she paid for three hours—and she’d used every minute.
Since then, she’d been your only client. It wasn’t just the money—though she made sure you didn’t need anyone else—but the connection. She was different. Reserved but attentive, with a way of making you feel like the only person in the room. You didn’t put labels on it—Sevika wasn’t the type for that—but it was something. Enough to make you bold.
Which is how this conversation started.
“I heard one of my coworkers talking about it with her Piltover client,” you said, voice light as you trailed your fingers along Sevika’s arm. The sheets rustled between your legs as she came up for air and propped herself up on one elbow, dark eyes narrowing at you in amusement.
“Go on,” she said, her voice low and rough, already laced with suspicion.
“It’s this thing they do. No Nut November.” You tried not to laugh at the words, but Sevika’s expression—a mix of disbelief and amusment—nearly broke your composure.
“No... what now?” she repeated, her lips twitching into a smirk.
You bit your lip, enjoying the rare moment of catching her off guard. “Basically, it’s a whole month where you’re not allowed to... you know.”
Sevika snorted, dropping her head and rolling on her side “You’re telling me people do this shit on purpose?”
“Apparently,” you said, biting back a grin. “Some kind of self-control thing.”
“Sounds like something those Piltover assholes came up with. Too much money, not enough brains.” Her voice was dry, but the faint chuckle undercut the sharpness.
“Probably,” you agreed, laughing softly. “But... it could be fun.”
Sevika stilled, her gaze snapping back to you. “What?”
“We could try it,” you said, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “Just for the hell of it. What’s the harm?”
She sat up fully, pulling her tank top back on as she shook her head. “No offense, sweetheart, but isn’t the whole point of what we do to not hold back?” Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of curiosity behind it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
You frowned, the remainder of your undefined “arrangement” stinging a little. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.
“C’mon, Sev,” you murmured, letting the sheet slip off your body as you stood. Her gaze flicked downward for a moment before she caught herself, her jaw tightening.
“You barely have time to visit me these days,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I know things are... hard right now. Silco’s gone. You’re picking up all the pieces. I just thought maybe this could be something to take your mind off it all. Something just for us.”
You reached up, your fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the rough edge of the scar there. Sevika exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under your touch.
“And,” you added, your voice dropping as your hand moved to her arm, “think about how good it’ll feel at the end of the month. Me, all needy. And you…” Your fingers grazed the hard lines of her bicep, drawing her attention.
“Pent up?” she finished for you, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest.
You grinned. “Exactly.”
She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she reached for your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she murmured, her voice softening as her forehead rested against yours.
You smiled, standing on your toes to kiss her. Her lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness of her calloused hand as it held you steady.
“Fine,” Sevika muttered against your lips, pulling you closer as she sealed the deal. “Two weeks. But don’t think for a second I’m making it easy for you.”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you pulled back, excitement bubbling up like steam in a kettle about to burst. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she turned away too quickly for you to be sure.
“Two weeks,” she repeated, adjusting her cape as if to distract herself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”
You smirked, leaning against the doorway to watch her go. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
This was going to be very, very interesting.
The first week wasn’t so bad. You stuck to your usual routine, and seeing Sevika three times that week made it unexpectedly fun.
Tuesday’s visit to her apartment was a perfect example. She’d summoned you with a cryptic, “Come by tonight,” and though her tone was casual, it always managed to spark a thrill deep in your chest.
Navigating the labyrinth of Zaun’s backstreets was second nature by now, though it still carried an edge of excitement. The quiet hum of the city and the faint buzz of neon lights guided you to her door, where you knocked three times—the code you’d both settled on.
The door opened with no preamble, and there stood Sevika, framed by the dim light spilling out from her apartment. The sight of her stopped you dead in your tracks.
Her cigarette hung loosely between her lips as she fiddled with her mechanical arm, muttering something under her breath. The dark brown tank top she wore stretched tight over her chest, highlighting the sculpted curve of her shoulders, while her black boxers sat dangerously low on her hips. The disheveled look was almost unfairly attractive, and it left you feeling momentarily speechless.
Her sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You gonna stand there all night or come in?”
You slipped inside quickly, your pulse already quickening. She moved to her couch and collapsed into it like she owned the world, legs spread wide, exuding an effortless dominance that made your skin tingle.
Without missing a beat, you crossed the room and climbed onto her lap, settling yourself like you’d been invited—even though you hadn’t been. You plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag, locking eyes with her as you exhaled.
“You know,” she drawled, her tone low and teasing, “you could always ask before you take.”
“And what’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful grin spreading across your lips.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Keep pushing, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a velvet threat.
Before you could quip back, she had you pinned to the couch, her large hand encircling your throat—not squeezing, just enough to make your breath hitch. Her lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep and consuming, like she was claiming you all over again.
Her knee pressed up between your thighs, and the pressure was just enough to pull a shameless moan from you. The sound made her grin, slow and wicked.
“Ready to give up this silly little game you insist on playing?” she asked, her voice husky as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
The reminder of your bet jolted you out of your haze, and you pushed against her shoulders, sitting up dramatically. “You’re already trying to sabotage me!” you accused, narrowing your eyes at her.
“And it almost worked,” she said, her grin unfazed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it up. You know you can’t say no to me.”
You scoffed, your gaze darting to the table beside you where her screwdriver lay. With a smirk, you snatched it up and held it out to her. “Give me that.”
Her brow arched, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
“Well,” you continued, shrugging nonchalantly, “since you’re paying for my time, I might as well make myself useful. You looked frustrated when I showed up.”
Her confusion melted into reluctant amusement as she took the screwdriver. “You offering to fix my arm now?”
“Depends,” you said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Which screw were you trying to tighten?”
She hesitated for a moment before sitting down and explaining the issue. You listened intently, nodding along and offering the occasional suggestion, though you weren’t exactly an expert.
The rest of the evening was spent sifting through her pile of spare parts, sharing drinks, and laughing over failed attempts to jury-rig solutions. At one point, you glanced up from the mess to find her watching you—not with her usual smugness, but something softer, quieter. The look vanished as quickly as it came, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.
By week two, though, things got harder—literally and figuratively. Your body betrayed you at every turn, and the tension was maddening. It left you feeling like a pent-up teenager, desperate and all too aware of every brush of fabric, every suggestive glance. But if Sevika thought you’d break first, she had another thing coming.
Which brought you to Friday night at The Last Drop. Sevika’s routine was as predictable as clockwork—every Friday, she’d be at her usual table, gambling and sipping whiskey like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the perfect opportunity to test her resolve.
You stood in front of the mirror, applying the last swipe of lip gloss and admiring your handiwork. The black leather skirt clung to your hips, catching the faint glow of the moonlight, and your low-cut top highlighted just enough cleavage to make Sevika’s attention inevitable. You smoothed your hair, gave yourself one last smirk, and headed out.
The bouncer at The Last Drop barely looked up before nodding in the direction of Sevika’s table. You spotted her immediately, lounging like a queen among her subjects. Her cigar glowed faintly in the low light, and the subtle curve of her smirk as she leaned back in her chair set your nerves buzzing.
You approached with deliberate confidence, the click of your heels drawing eyes as you stopped beside her. “Is that seat taken?” you asked, motioning to her lap.
The table fell silent, the men and women around Sevika staring openly, their gazes lingering far too long for your liking. Sevika, however, barely glanced at you before leaning back and spreading her legs slightly in invitation.
You lowered yourself onto her lap, adjusting your skirt just enough to let her feel the curve of your hips against her. Her hand settled on your thigh, a possessive touch that sent shivers through you.
She leaned in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “It’s cute that you thought dressing like a slut would make me jealous. But here’s the thing—they all know you’re my slut. What’s there to be jealous about when they can only dream?”
Her low chuckle rumbled through you as she tossed some chips onto the table, her hand sliding higher on your thigh.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you weren’t backing down—not yet.
Game on.
The game at the table picked up, the noise growing louder with every passing round. You barely paid attention, more focused on Sevika's drink getting dangerously low. Without waiting for her to ask, you hopped up to grab her another. Her hand delivered a quick, casual pat to your ass as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across your face.
At the bar, you scanned the crowd for a target. Spiked-hair guy slumped over near a puddle of vomit? Nope. A buzzcut woman giving you that look from the middle of the room? Way too easy. Then, your gaze landed on her: a loudmouth with an undercut and no clue about the pecking order here. Jackpot.
You sidled up to the bar, ignoring her completely at first. Tapping your empty glass, you got the bartender’s attention, who already knew what to pour: whiskey for Sevika. Only then did you glance her way.
“Looks like you’re having a hell of a time over here,” you said, flashing a playful smile.
She turned toward you, the conversation with her friend forgotten. Her eyes swept over you with a low whistle. “And I think I’m about to have an even better one,” she smirked.
Right where you wanted her. But she needed to work a little harder for it.
As she started asking about you, you casually mentioned the brothel. Her eyes lit up like it was her birthday.
“You know,” you said, tilting your head coyly, “I do give discounts to clients who know how to show me a good time.”
“Oh, yeah?” she grinned, leaning closer. “Convenient, since I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket.” Her hand found the back of your thigh, pulling you in just enough to make the air between you crackle.
You felt Sevika’s gaze burning into your back from across the room, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you leaned into the stranger’s touch, tapping the muscles of her arm teasingly.
“I think I’d like a preview of what the rest of my night could look like,” she said, her voice dropping as she tapped your chin up with her finger.
“Oh, yeah?” you whispered, your lips inches from hers. “Why don’t you show me what I’m working with?”
Just as she started to lean in, you barely had time to process the hand on your thigh disappearing. A blur of movement later, the stranger hit the floor, a guttural thud snapping the air between you.
Sevika stood over her, gripping the fabric of her shirt with one hand.
“I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of my bar,” Sevika growled, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Before I break every disgusting finger that touched my girl.”
Your eyes widened as the stranger stammered something snarky, but it didn’t matter. Sevika’s fist connected with her nose before she could finish. Blood sprayed, and the woman crumpled onto the ground.
Sevika turned to you, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing.
“Office. Now.”
Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the back. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone with the familiar tension crackling between you like a storm about to break.
You leaned back against Silco’s old desk, arms crossed. “Well, someone’s jealous.”
Her glare could’ve melted steel. “Jealous?” she barked, stalking toward you. “It’s one thing to show up dressed like that, begging for attention. But you were practically dry-humping her in front of everyone.”
You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Isn’t that my job? Making sure potential clients are… interested in what they see?”
Her growl reverberated through the room as she closed the distance between you. “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m your only client that matters.”
Your smirk widened. “Sevika, are you trying to make us exclusive?”
She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “This isn’t about some stupid game. You’ve been trying to drive me insane since day one, and guess what? You did it. Congratulations. Now I’m gonna make you regret it.”
“Funny,” you teased, hopping up onto the desk and letting your knees fall open just enough. “Seems like everything’s going exactly according to plan.”
Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stared at you. Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she stepped between your legs, her hands landing on your hips.
“I knew you’d be the death of me,” she muttered, before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours.
Every ounce of frustration and tension boiled over in that kiss, her grip firm and unrelenting as if to remind you exactly who was in charge now. And this time, you didn’t argue.
You had made out with Sevika plenty of times before. But as her tongue slid into your mouth this time, it was different. There was no pretense, no playful back-and-forth teasing. This wasn’t just a hookup, and you weren’t just some random conquest.
She wasn’t kissing a prostitute. She was staking a claim.
A moan escaped your lips as she pushed you back against the desk, the edge digging into your lower back as her frame towered over you. You gasped when she climbed on top of you, her weight a deliberate reminder of how much control she had.
Her lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks that you knew you’d see tomorrow. “I think I’ll start by ruining this little outfit,” she growled, her voice dark and rich. “Since you’re so set on showing the Undercity what’s mine, I’ll make it easier for you.”
Her metal hand traced up your waist, the cold edge of her finger sending shivers down your spine. You barely had time to process her next move before she dragged it sharply upward, slicing clean through your top like it was nothing.
You inhaled sharply as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed. Sevika sat back for a moment, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.
“Much better,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a wicked smirk as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours. “But you’re not done paying for that little stunt at the bar, sweetheart.”
Her hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanna play games?” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll play. But we both know how this ends.”
“Do we?” you shot back, your voice breathy but still defiant. “Seems to me like you’re the one losing your cool.”
That earned you a sharp laugh, her teeth flashing as her smirk widened. “Keep talking,” she said, her voice low. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to stop.”
You opened your mouth to make a smart ass comment  but it was already to late as she started pinching one of your nipples with her real hand. 
‘Look at these already stiff. You really are a fucking whore.” Sevika said aggresily spitting on your chest before leaning down and licking it to spead over your left nipple. 
You started moaning as she swirlled her tongue and lightly bit at your nipple as your hands shot to her hair. She made sure to leave a few hickeys before quickly tearing through your mini skirt as well quickly dropping to her knees and pulling you to the edge of the desk. 
You groaned, your head tipping back as Sevika pinned your thighs nearly flat against your shoulders. The contrast was maddening—her metal hand icy against your left thigh, the sharp edges biting just enough to tease, while the warmth of her calloused fingers on your right thigh sent sparks shooting through your body.
"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her eyes roamed over you. "Can’t decide if you like it rough or soft, huh? Guess I’ll just give you both."
Her grip tightened, the cold metal sending a shiver up your spine as she leaned down, her breath ghosting over your neck. The deliberate pressure of her hands, one hard and unyielding, the other impossibly warm and strong, had you arching into her without thinking.
“Keep making noises like that, and I might just keep you pinned like this all night,” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
You bit your lip, trying to suppress the needy whimper threatening to spill out. But Sevika caught it, her smirk practically audible as she shifted her weight, her metal fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Thought so,” she growled, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat.
You loved when Sevika treated you like a ragdoll with no other purpose than to her pretty little fucktoy and cum. And you were already close to cumming thirty seconds after her tongue started dancing across your clit. The sound of Sevika slurping up all of your juices made you go wild. 
You felt her hand on your right thigh move to your entrance groaning at the feeling of her two fingers stretching you out. 
“Cant believe this pussy is so greedy sucking my fingers in. It’s almost like you get off of me degrading you huh” Sevika moaned continuing her assault on your clit with her tounge.
“Well I’ll make it worth your wild hm? Cum on my fucking fingers like the greedy slut you are.” Sevika engouraged instantly sending you over the edge as your legs began to shake as you called out Sevikas name. 
You barley had time to cathcn your breath before Sevika told you to stand up and turn around to brace yourself against the desk. 
You heard her undoing her pants and feeling something kind of warm and hard against your entrance.
“Thought I would wear this think out to see if it was comfortable enough to bring over to the brothel. Didnt know it would come in handy so soon.” She said pressing into you as the object slid inside of you wour jaw falling slack from the sensation. 
‘W-what is that- oh my god.” You said gripping the desk.
“Saw some women talking about this thing when I was up in Piltover running some collections. I think they called it a strap? Figures your sloppy pussy would take it in one go.” Sevika said starting to roll her hips so the strap started moving in and out of you. 
You had never felt something so good your eyes rolling back as she picked up the speed. 
She gripped your hair with one hand as she moved her knee between yours using her muscular thigh to push you bent leg up on the desk. Increasing her speed even more. 
It felt so fucking good you didnt even have control of what was flying out of your mouth just expletives and Sevikas name.
As the slapping sounds began to echo through the room you felt yourself getting close again As Sevikas grunts sounded like a melody against your ears. 
“ Go ahead screm it louder baby. Let everyone in the bar- no everyone in the lanes know who this pussy belongs to.” She grunted bringing her hand down on your ass with a hard slap as she continued ramming into you. 
“Fuck it’s all yours Sev! S-stresching me out so good.” You slurred feeling your orgasm washing over your. You thought she would slow her pace but as your orgasm began to calm Sevika kept punding into you.
You felt your eyes roll back getting light headed from the pressure. A new feeling building in your stomach. 
“I know you have more in you hm? Show daddy how well you can squirt all over my strap. She said smacking your ass again. 
You shrieked her name cursing her out as you felt a sudden rush followed by a feeling of wetness shooting all over your leg as Sevika groaned at how well you were taking it. 
Sevika finally slowed her pace, her movements deliberate and torturous as she eased out of you. The rush of sensation left you dizzy, your body slack, and your legs threatening to give out entirely. You stumbled forward, but Sevika was quick, catching you effortlessly.
She chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through you as she scooped you up into her arms like you weighed nothing. Carrying you to the worn couch in the corner of the room, she settled down with you perched in her lap, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.
“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your voice breathy and ragged. You barely had the energy to lift your head, but the accusation carried all the heat you could muster. “First, you tell the whole damn bar I’m your girl, then you ruin my favorite skirt, and then you fuck me like that?”
Sevika smirked, her hand idly tracing patterns along your thigh. “Mm, don’t forget—I also carried your pretty ass over here.”
“Not the point,” you shot back, though the warmth in her touch had your indignation quickly waning.
Her smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured, her voice thick with self-satisfaction.
You tilted your head, confused and still trying to regain full control of your brain. “What?”
Her grin was almost feral as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“I won your stupid game.”
The realization hit you like a slap. “Oh, hell no—”
“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, cutting off your protests with a possessive kiss that left you breathless all over again. When she finally pulled back, her smug expression had you torn between wanting to strangle her and kiss her again.
“Face it,” Sevika said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction as her hand trailed lazily up your spine. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but the smug arch of her brow and the way her fingers tightened just enough on your waist shut you up fast. Damn her for being right.
Sevika’s laugh rumbled through her chest as she leaned back, utterly victorious. “That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice teasing as she rested her head against the back of the couch. “Guess that makes me the reigning champion, huh?”
You huffed, your pride smarting, but the way her arms tightened around you, grounding and comforting, made it impossible to stay mad.
“Fine,” you grumbled, resting your head against her chest. “But next time, I’m taking home the crown.”
“We’ll see, sweetheart,” Sevika murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”
448 notes · View notes
houseofceline · 1 year ago
Text
My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Bitter Burns and Glowy Skin
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: None (yet ;))
Summary: You need to stop being so easily persuaded.
Author's Note: Long awaited chapter! Sorry about the wait, college is beating my ass right now but almost winter break! Also someone tell me what a taglist is and how to make one?
< 5
__________________
“Come on please,” Lorenzo begged, turning fully around in his seat to face you. 
You hesitated. Parties weren’t really your thing. They were loud, exhausting, scary, sweaty, and so many more unpleasant adjectives. 
There was only ten minutes left of class which meant only ten more minutes of Lorenzo and Mattheo trying to convince you to go to a hufflepuff house party. 
You weren’t stupid you knew what went on at hufflepuff parties. There was a link between them being prodigies at herbology and Cho coming back to the dorms giggling and wobbling. 
“It’s going to be so fun though,” Lorenzo clasped his hands together and pleaded. 
“Your boyfriend’s also going to be there,” Mattheo added, wiggling his eyebrows. 
You felt your face heat up and tried shushing the loud boy in case anyone was eavesdropping. 
“Why would it matter if Theo’s going or not,” you murmured quietly as you glanced around the classroom, paranoid. 
Mattheo smirked, “I never said Nott. So you want him to be your boyfriend?” 
Shoot. You avoided eye contact with both boys but made sure to shake your head no, not allowing them the chance to assume anything. 
“No, bu-” saved by the bell. You reminded yourself to give Dumbledore a giant kiss on his cheek. 
You grabbed your backpack and ran away from the two slytherins who bursted out in laughter. 
You spotted Cho and Cedric in the hallways and ran to them knowing that the two boys probably wouldn’t follow. 
“Hey y/n!” Cedric greeted as he spotted you before Cho did. 
“Y/n!” Cho exclaimed, hooking her free arm, the one that wasn’t linked onto Cedric’s, to yours. 
“How was class?” Cho asked while you looked behind you, sighing when you didn’t see them lingering behind you. 
“As interesting as the history of magic gets,” you rolled your eyes while Cedric laughed. 
“It’ll get better, trust me,” Cedric assured while Cho shook her head. 
“Don’t listen to him, he said the same thing about potions,” Cho objected while you groaned in response. 
Well to be honest it wasn’t that bad anymore. With Theo’s help your grades were getting better and you no longer dreaded the class. At least not as much as before, plus the study dates were also fun. 
“You coming to the party tonight?” Cedric asked while Cho pulled your intertwined arms up to smack her head. 
“Shoot! That’s what I forgot to ask you last night,” she exclaimed before looking over at you with pleading eyes, one that you were all too familiar with regarding this subject. 
“No…” you answered quietly but it seemed like that was the wrong answer when Cho abruptly stopped the three of you from walking. 
“Please, it’s a Friday night. What else are you going to do in our dorm alone?” She let go of Cedric’s arm and turned to you, grabbing your arm with both of her hands. 
“I want to work on my dress,” you answered while Cho groaned and pretended to cry while Cedric laughed at his girlfriend. 
“Please please please please please,” Cho chanted while you tried shaking her grasp away. 
“Okay okay!” You exclaimed as she cheered. 
“We need to go get ready!” Cho squealed as she let go of your hand and took your hand instead. 
“Wait,” she stopped the two of you from running off before running back to kiss Cedric goodbye on the cheek. 
“Let’s go look even hotter!” 
_________________
You wanted to vomit, you really did. You had arrived with Cho but you felt bad for making her babysit you all night therefore you encouraged her to go find Cedric. But obviously that was a big mistake now that you found yourself alone and wanting to leave, if you could even find the door at this point. It felt like the whole school was here. 
“Oh look who decided to show up!” Lorenzo yelled as soon as he saw you. And wherever Lorenzo was, you knew Mattheo was near. 
“Nott’s not here yet,” Mattheo raised both of his eyebrows as he eyed your dress choice of the night. You had gone with a black lace dress and Mattheo had to murmur an apology to Theo before complimenting your outfit. 
“I’m not here for Theo,” you tried to convince them even though you had hoped to have already seen him around. 
“Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that,” Lorenzo snickered as he passed you a drink. 
You weren’t a big drinker, mostly because of the fact that you were a lightweight. You took a sip and automatically your face scrunched up as you felt the bitter burn in your throat.  
“You came here alone?” Mattheo frowned, “We could’ve went and got you.”
You waved them off, “I arrived with Cho don’t worry I’m okay.” 
“Well what are you doing standing around for? Let’s go dance!” Lorenzo exclaimed as he pulled you onto the dance with Mattheo following behind. 
“I can’t dance!” You exclaimed, not wanting to embarrass yourself with your lousy dance moves. 
“It’s easy, just move to the beat!” Lorenzo shrugged like it was that easy. 
You took a few more sips of your drink, hoping that it would suppress some nerves. After all, it is easier to do “embarrassing” things when you don’t realize you’re doing them. 
“See, natural dancer,” Mattheo praised as he threw an arm around you and Lorenzo. 
Suddenly Lorenzo tensed up causing you and Mattheo to look over. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked following his gaze across the room. Lorenzo tried to stop you from turning around, but it was too late. 
If it was possible, Mattheo would’ve tried to catch and save your falling, shattering heart. 
Mattheo cursed under his breath as you tried to push the lump that was forming down your throat. 
You didn’t think much of anything when you hung out with Theo. You enjoyed his presence, but maybe it never occurred to you that you were not the only one who had it. 
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the stabbing feeling in your chest, but you felt like the longer you watched Theo kiss the pretty blonde girl the stronger your stomach churned. 
You had no right to be so upset. The two of you were just friends. 
You were happy for your friend. She looked really pretty from where you stood. Long wavy blonde hair contrasting your dark straight black strands. She was thin and tall, like the model bodies you drew in your sketchbook for your designs.  
You were happy for him, happy that he had someone who seemed nice and pretty. But maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe she means nothing to him. But that would mean you didn’t mean enough for him to not kiss a stranger. 
“Something’s stuck in my throat,” you bitterly chuckled as you turned away from them and chugged your drink. 
Lorenzo looked at you and felt his own heart break at your dejected expression. Your face resembled the image of a small child in time out. 
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Mattheo sighed and patted your back and you feigned a shocked expression. 
“Huh? What do you mean?” You played dumb as if you never saw them. But the boys knew better when they saw your eyes starting to tear up.  Eyes don't lie.
You started to dance again, grabbing Lorenzo’s cup and chugged. Maybe being lightweight wasn’t a bad thing. You couldn’t even feel the hole in your chest as you danced with tears rolling down your face. When the disco lights hit your face, your face shined and glistened with tears. Maybe you looked gorgeous, like an angel with your glowy face. But maybe you looked like a miserable mess, perhaps the reason he wasn’t here with you right now.
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messyoungie · 4 days ago
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HABITS TO DROP WHEN GETTING YOUR LIFE TOGETHER
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➝ CREATING UNAUTHENTIC & UNINTENTIONAL GOALS
the biggest mistakes you can make when creating goals is making goals that aren’t true to you and making goals for the sake of making goals.
it can be so exciting when you decide to get your life together. I mean, of course it is! there are so many possibilities! but when you start planning, don’t just write down the goals you see circulating on social media. what works for someone else may not be what works for you. don’t make your goals and habits based on what’s trending or popular in the self improvement community.
think about what you actually need for a minute. what is actually necessary? your goals and habits aren’t here to be glamorous, they’re here to help regardless of how simple or small they are. the point of thinking up new habits is to improve your life, so be intentional with your goals. what will practicing this habit or achieving this goal give you?
when you’re first starting out, your goals don’t have to be anything too crazy or intense. for example, let’s say you want to become a pink pilates girl and get into fitness. you shouldn’t jump right into it and say your goal is to work out for 2 hours 5 times a week. let’s consider some factors first. have you been living a completely sedentary kind of lifestyle? then try looking for exercises that’ll wake up dormant muscles. your goal should then be to repeat those exercises for how ever many times a week. then you’ll work your way up from there. (it’s important we don’t harm the body, so be mindful with your fitness goals.) what about your schedule? how much time can you actually give to working out? can your body even endure working out for that long?
anyways, hopefully you see what I mean. when creating goals, it’s not about having the “aesthetic” habits and goals that you may see on tiktok or tumblr. it’s about doing what is actually good for you and what’ll help you the most with where you are now in your journey. so please put some thought into your goals and where they’ll take you. creating unauthentic and unintentional habits will also mean you’ll be less likely to keep practicing them after a few times. at the end of the day, that doesn’t help you achieve anything and you’re left with a broken promise you’ve made to yourself. which leads me to my next point…
➝ NOT KEEPING YOUR WORD WHEN IT COMES TO YOU
let me start off by saying this— if you don’t even listen to yourself, why should anyone else? (harsh, ik)
a HUGE reason as to why people have no self confidence is because they don’t listen to themselves or keep the promises they’ve made to themselves. if you have no self trust, how could you have any self confidence?
now, building discipline can definitely be a challenge so if you want to start somewhere easy, nip your false promises in the bud and stop yourself from making them. that’s what I did when I was first trying to stop this habit. when my addiction to tiktok was at its peak I would always tell myself the usual “ten more minutes and then I’ll stop scrolling.” when I wanted to stop making false promises, I knew I had no control or discipline so the only thing I could do is be real with myself. I’d cut myself off when I heard myself say “five more minutes” because I knew it wasn’t going to happen. if I wasn’t going to quit my bad habit, then the least I could do is be honest with myself.
the things that you are constantly telling yourself, whether they’re mindless or intentional, matter.
so, stop telling yourself seemingly harmless lies. unnecessary false promises that you know are false will only fill you with tension.
➝ SEEING FAILURE AS AN INVITATION TO GIVE UP
this applies to so many things.
you wanted to be consistent with your reading goals but haven’t read a chapter in a week? dont give up. don’t tell yourself that being consistent is too hard for you, that since you missed a week this habit isn’t for you. make your goal a bit easier or give yourself another chance.
you wanted to spend more time doing art but it’s not turning out how you expected? dont give up. dont give yourself the title of a “bad artist” and never pick up a pencil again. move forward, give yourself another chance.
you wanted to quit your Instagram addiction but after a couple days you went back to scrolling for hours on ig reels? Don’t give up. dont tell yourself that this addiction isn’t gonna go away, don’t go back to the bad habit because you slipped up. give yourself another chance.
I think a lot of us (myself included) tend to give up at the first sign of failure, instead of reminding ourselves to keep going. it’d be wonderful if you could get it right on the first try. if you could read ten books a month right away after not reading a book in three years. if you could watch hours worth of tutorials and sketch the perfect portrait on the first attempt. if you could uninstall instagram for good and never feel the urge to go back. that would all be so amazing, but it’s not always the reality. expect the best from yourself and do the best you can, but also give yourself some compassion. keep in mind that you won’t always do things perfectly right away and that’s one thousand percent okay. when you feel yourself slipping up on your brand new goal, don’t end it there at the first failure. allow yourself to move forward, because the only other direction to move is backwards.
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andmineisyellow · 6 months ago
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Communication is a two way street. Both parties have to be able to listen and talk. But for most of Penelope and Eloise's lives, Pen has been the listener and El has been the talker, so their communication inevitably broke down.
It's understandable why Pen wasn't honest about her feelings for Colin. Outside of him being El's brother, El has judged and looked down on anyone interest in marriage, which made Pen feel like El would judge her too. As a friend El didn't do a good job creating a space where Penelope could feel comfortable expressing her feelings.
But at the same time, Pen never had the courage to tell El how those judgements were effecting her. How is El supposed to know that she's unintentionally hurting Pen if Pen doesn't say anything? And this fear Pen has of being judged has transformed hiding her feelings to actively lying which only escalates the downfall of their relationship.
With their time apart this season we're seeing them becoming better friends for eachother as they work on themselves. For Eloise she needed someone like Cressida to call her out on her behavior and we see El being confronted with the fact that her words and judgements have consequences. For Penelope, we see her slowly learning to express herself as she gains more confidence. Neither character is fully where they need to be to make amends yet, but we still have half the season to go for that to change.
Pen and El have had some of the best character development in this entire show and the reason for that is because the writer's allowed them to make mistakes and be messy. They gave them a place to grow from, which will make their resolution so much more satisfying.
"Colin was her love, her passion, and her soul, but it was Eloise, more than anyone, who had shaped Penelope’s adult life."
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tentacle-therapissed · 8 months ago
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After Roman says ‘I thought I was your hero’ and Thomas says, ‘you are’, Roman looks over to Janus and Janus nods.
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Janus just told everyone his real name moments ago in order to prove that he is both capable of sincerity and willing to be honest with the other Sides so they can start seeing eye to eye. His glove is still off and he is currently in an uncharacteristically vulnerable position that he willingly put himself in. He nods to Roman as if to say "Yes, as the person intrinsically in tune with Thomas’s lying, I can confirm he is telling the truth."
But Roman is looking at Janus as the embodiment of Thomas’s deceit. He’s so used to being played and manipulated by Janus’s lies and faux camaraderie and has now become so on edge that he can’t understand how anyone else could possibly trust anything Janus is saying. He sees the nod as a confirmation that c!Thomas was lying about Roman being his hero and scoffs in shock and betrayal.
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c!Thomas looks utterly bewildered at this reaction,
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and Janus's smile fades as he realizes how Roman interpreted the nod.
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And when Patton says 'we love you', Roman assumes that's a lie too. In the Puzzle Song Roman needs to be reassured that no one hates him, heavily implying this is an underlying insecurity of his. Assuming this is the case, it wouldn't take much for him to believe Patton's 'we love you' meant just the opposite.
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Roman's self esteem is so fragile that he takes the others listening to Janus personally. Because if Janus was right, that means Roman made the wrong call in sentencing Thomas to the wedding and doomed them all. If Janus was right, that means he let Thomas down- and it was revealed in Am I Original that Roman is terrified of letting Thomas down.
So now he's convinced (and let's be real, Janus's dig at him for making mistakes didn't help) that he isn't Thomas's hero anymore. Devastating stuff :)
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lynnie-ee · 2 months ago
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Inktober Day 3; Regrets.
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╰┈➤"A relationship with Vil was all you could ever dream of, perfect and loving, but it seems like he doesn't want that anymore. Either way, he'll have to deal with the consequences of it; at some point, you had to move on, didn't you?."
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.6k words.
╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.
╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.
⤿
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⤿
Loving Vil was like staring at the moon on a starry night. Beautiful, elegant, gracefully glimmering above anything or anyone, surrounded by stars but never being outshined by them. A gentle light that kept them on the right path, and that took care of them tenderly.
But cold, nevertheless. Distant, stern, perfect; a chill running down their spine when they were in his presence, as if they weren’t worthy of admiring him so closely.
The Prefect was well aware of their own flaws, as they were sometimes clumsy, sometimes impulsive, and sometimes too tired at night to worry about a night routine. Seemingly out of place next to Vil, the personification of magnificence, always sharp and confident.
Even so, (Y/n) was able to discover a new side of him, something that wasn’t possible to see through movie premieres and Magicam posts.
They got close after VDC; with the entire situation of his overblot and all of his issues, the Prefect offered their support to him one day, casually offering to listen to him if he ever needed it.
At first, Vil didn’t reach them, but then, on a bad day, he unconsciously walked all the way to Ramshackle. The housewarden of Pomefiore realised that (Y/n)’s kindness was genuine; they hadn’t been in his world for long, they didn’t realise the amount of power and success he had, and instead they saw him for himself. Maybe that was what encouraged him to pursue them in more ways than he intended at first.
He found himself falling in the arms of a magicless human, grasping every new part of them he got to know and cherish each of the sincere compliments they gave him with adoration and care. Holding them close, kissing their worries away, making sure they were healthy and content.
They were doing good, together.
And still, it wasn’t enough.
No matter how much (Y/n) tried to find him, there was always an invisible wall between them.
“We should break up.”
“…What?”
“We won’t work out; you know it as well as me.”
It all started a few days ago. A call from his manager, asking him if he planned to reveal his relationship at some point. Actors with partners lose popularity. They lose roles more often. They lose followers. It usually lasted for a few months, of course, but could Vil risk his downfall? Shouldn’t it be more difficult for him to ever think about leaving the Prefect? Shouldn’t he feel a pang on his chest at the mere thought of not waking up next to them? Shouldn’t he be able to picture himself sharing a future with them?
‘Perhaps this is just a silly romance that will forgotten in a few years. They’ll come back to their world and I’ll continue working as diligently as always.’
“I don’t understand.” The Prefect muttered, looking into Vil’s eyes, searching for doubt or hesitation, a wave of sadness invading them when they found none of it. They felt dizzy, the air of Vil’s room suffocating them as his words settled in their mind.
“It’ll be the best, for the both of us.” The housewarden stated, his words sharp but his voice compassionate. “You have always trusted me, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” They replied immediately.
“Then trust me on this, too.” Vil replied, one of his hands cupping the cheeks of the Prefect. “Let’s be honest, we’re both tired-“
“I’m not.”
“(Y/n).”
“I love you.” They muttered, their voice breaking. Vil was wonderful, supportive, patient, someone they couldn’t image themselves living without, at least in that world where they had no one else. When did they lose him…? “Don’t you love me too?”
“Perhaps that’s not enough for us.”
“It can be, Vil, just let me in. Let me understand you.”
Vil observed them briefly, (Y/n) standing before him as a complete mess that he didn’t find himself capable of fixing. He didn’t have time to play around, nor to introduce them into his world. He had decisions to make.
“I’m not sure you’ll be able to. We’re…different.”
“Are you saying I’m not enough?”
“I’m saying we may be better on our own.”
The Ramshackle student removed his hand from their face, now standing to gaze into his eyes, his message clear in their mind as they realised Vil just didn’t want to deal with them anymore. They weren’t some kind of famous singer or a wealthy artist, they were just themselves. And Vil was Vil.
‘It was bound to happen, at some point’, they thought to reassure themselves.
“I’m not going to beg you for anything else, then.” They stated as firmly as they could, even if the tears on their cheeks could indicate something else. “But I love you sincerely, and you won’t find that easily. I hope you can find what you’re looking for by yourself.”
“I wish you well, (Y/n).”
“I don’t believe in your words anymore, Vil.”
⤿
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⤿
Loving (Y/n) used to be like a bright morning on a sunny day. Warm, inviting, tender towards anyone who could turn towards them, never rejecting the opportunity of lending a hand to whoever needed it. A gentle light that kept him away from the darkest days.
Suffocating, at times, making him wish for the night to arrive just to find solace in the familiar cold.
He believed it’d be more comfortable, going back to his usual starry nights where he shined as brightly as always. The memories of his time with the Prefect going away in no time.
Except that it never happened.
He found himself waking up and looking around for them. At night, he kept in mind to remind the Prefect to clean their face and take care of their skin, only for him to remember that they weren’t staying with him anymore. At school, he didn’t have anyone to hold hands when no one else was looking. At work, he received multiple compliments about his efforts and looks, but none as sincere as (Y/n)’s words.
And (Y/n) seemed to have disappeared from every place he was in.
They were still in Night Raven College, of course, but no matter how much he looked for them or how many times he asked Epel about them, they seemed to do an excellent job at avoiding him.
“You were the one who did this, don’t go after them now.” The first-year replied to him on a particularly stressful day.
He couldn’t believe it; Him? Missing someone he took out of his life by himself? Wishing to be with a person who didn’t belong to this world? Who couldn’t understand him- No, who he didn’t allow to understand him?
Then the holidays began. He went back home, and worked as usual, doing campaigns and assisting events, as glamorous as always, never showing his pain.
“I heard you got the role of the main character for your next role! That’s amazing, you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” An older actress congratulated him in the middle of a charity party, as she seemed to be the best person to spend time amongst so many wealthy people and royals.
“Indeed. I’m very grateful to have this opportunity.” He answered politely.
“I’m excited to see how it’ll turn out- Oh, isn’t that the Prince of Sunset Savana? I haven’t seen him at an event in years.”
“What?”
Vil turned around, easily spotting Leona among so many people, but his attention was soon dragged to something else, or rather, someone else. Someone who walked along him, hand in hand. Someone who used to hold his hand before.
“(Y/n)…” He mumbled unconsciously.
They looked stunning, but it wasn’t as if they were ever bad-looking in the first place. They looked happy, peaceful even when they were surrounded by strangers who seemed as curious as him to know what was his relationship with the prince.
Perhaps Leona’s arm around their waist calmed down in such an unknown environment for them. Or maybe it was the words he whispered in their ear when they seemed to get uncomfortable.
Vil couldn’t even imagine that Leona could be attentive to someone else, but there he was, looking at (Y/n) with love, taking great pride in presenting them as his partner to anyone that asked him, no matter who was it.
“Prince Leona! It’s been so long, how have you been?” The actress that accompanied him asked the beastman as soon as they approached.
“I’ve been doing great, as you can see.” He replied, proudly holding (Y/n)’s hand.
“It’s so nice to know you have found such a beautiful partner, what’s your name, darling?”
“My name is (Y/n), is such a pleasure to meet you.”
“I can say the same! Vil, Leona is your classmate, right? Have you met his partner before?” The woman asked innocently, oblivious to Vil’s irritated mood, even though he tried to mask it.
“Well, we-“
“We meet briefly at Night Raven College, but we’re not really close.” (Y/n) interrupted, as Leona grinned quietly next to them. “And it’s been a nice conversation, but it’s getting quite late, isn’t it?”
“Do you want to leave?” Asked Leona with his regular tone, but even Vil was able to catch a certain fondness that was unusual in him.
“Yes, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course, Herbivore, let’s go home.”
“Goodbye then.” The Prefect spoke politely, gazing for the last time at him, his eyes now more confident than the last time he was able to look at them. “I hope you’re doing well, Vil.”
‘Well, perhaps I’m still stuck in the role of the villain, after all.'
⤿
⤿
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mikeysbabygirl · 1 year ago
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𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝒄'𝒔
Warning : you read it pretty well. NSFW. Which means minors do not INTERRACT.
Ft : Rindou, inupi
𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 :
Perfect boyfriend, right ?
You'll never run out of playlists to listen to with Rindou as boyfriend.
Cold ? He's got about ten hoodies that he likes seeing on you, hanging lose on your thighs, would spray them of his own fragrance after washing them just to know you have his perfume on you wherever you are.
I'm getting at the main point which is...
The jealousy of this man is vice.
As you know, Rindou is a man of few words. Your boyfriend would never tell you straight forward that he is jealous, or have a healthy, honest conversation with you.
He would rather...
Why did he introduced you to Haruchiyo at first ? He should have known that guy would always go out of his ways to make him mad. Just like he was doing now, brushing his lips every now and then against your cheeks as he tells you jokes that Rindou thinks really do not deserve such overdone laughs from you.
The uncomfortable feeling makes his chest tingle, yet Rindou would rather die than admit it to you. But don't you think he would forget, this guy is like a ticking clock, registering every little thing you do for the right time.
In the mean time, you would never get to see Haruchiyo again. Nor any other Tenjiku member.
Rindou really thinks he loves you. Though he still holds that grudge, he can't help but driving you home from school every evening, can't help but think about you randomly during the day, or at night when he's fucking that fist on a pretty nude from you.
But he's registering, and he secretly hoped you would not make any other "mistake", but you do.
You were having so much fun tonight, and if Rindou was anyone else, he would have felt guilty.
But he is Rindou fucking Haitani, and he warned you. These days, Tokyo, at night was not one of the safest places, Kanto Manji was having some troubles with an opponent gang. Would you have been any other girl he dated, he wouldn't have cared. But again, you're so more than that.
He thinks you're so pretty, so eyecatchy. As always, your eyes are the shiniest, and when you spot him from the other end of the club, making his way toward where you're dancing with your friends, they widen the slightest.
He is not the type to embarrass you in front of your friends or anything, believe me.
Close your eyes, imagine this.
The crowd, the dancing bodies, and everything disappears as soon as his lips brush against your cheeks. His blonde locks tickle your neck, and his hands too gently lays on the small of your back. Rindou's fragrance invades your nostrils as much as his deep voice does with your ear.
-" have it your way, love. 'm just gonna sit here and wait for ya. Just be sure you're ready for whatever I got for you. "
Then, just as if it was a dream, his touch flies away, as much as his perfume which lingered a little longer behind him, reminding you just how fucked up you are.
From the other end of the club, your boyfriend looks... Devilishly handsome, first buttons of his white shirt are undone, hair slightly messy, you could almost see his bloodshot eyes from afar watching every move you make. At some point, you're pretty sure you've seen those pretty lips smirk.
This is where I'm getting at, my next main point.
The most important thing I could say as a nsfw fact about Rindou, is his relentless dominance.
He is, the perfect boyfriend from outside. The most protective, caring lover you could ever dream of.
Perfect boyfriend, has his hands around your neck, his tie wrapped tightly around your wrists, that purple gaze usually soft for you looks like it could kill you right now.
-" I'm sorry- Rin', move please, I'm so... So, so fucking sorry, just move " moving your core to chase some friction doesn't even work, he's hell bent on making you cockwarm him all the night, watching you slightly struggling to breath with his hand on your throat.
Usually, he is a man of few words mainly because he is a good listener, especially when you are talking. But tonight, he doesn't even care to hear a word you're saying. He dives deep in the feeling of your pussy wrapped up around him, an expressionless face while he presses kisses on every damn inch of your face and neck.
You both know that these kiss also aren't meant for reassuring, just because he can't seem to get enough of you.
The cold metal of his rings tightens slightly around your throat, having your eyes widening, a groan leaves his mouth so much your doe eyes make his cock throb.
-" Love the way you're taking me. Got me goddamn obsessed. "
Just because you're his own little addiction, just because your walls clench tighter around him at his words, he rolls his hips the slightest bit, making your eyes roll back in your head.
-" You look just as good as a Haitani's wife, laying all pretty under daddy, hugging my dick like my lil pillow princess ".
Because that is what he had wanted to make you, and no matter how independent you are, there is no other way being around Rindou. He lived to mold you into his perfect girl, no way of taking the lead, a simple sharp glance from him makes your heart drop.
Best Tenjiku boyfriend, they say. Yes, he is. So caring, always so much...
And the smirks, small laughs from that pretty face seeing the pain mixing with pleasure on your face are the proof. The perfect, most sadistic boyfriend. Giving a sharp, rough thrust inside you so suddenly that it had you crying his name, balls rubbing against your abused clit.
-" cry all you want " he crooked an eyebrow. "Your screams only got me wanna ruin this pussy. Ain't it the best way to make sure my baby's gonna behave ?"
-" Hm ? Say, love ?"
-" What a man gotta do to protect his best fucking girl, nah ?"
𝑰𝒏𝒖𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒖 :
What a sweet guy, he is sugar coated, honey dripping.
You two could have met after a kinda hard time of your life, you were lacking a lot of trust in people in general and particularly in men.
But Seishu was so soft with you, so careful and fair-play that you ended up trusting him with your life, going around everywhere calling him your...
Your best friend.
Maybe he hadn't been perfectly fair-play into that last one... But he swears he had wanted to be your best friend, at a time.
It was just about how your hands moved around your face as you talked with excitement, about your teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with every smile you reserved only for him. It was about your scent lingering in his t-shirts after hours of hugging him from behind on night rides on his bike, the scent he never truly wanted to wash.
And soon, he started noticing his eagerness to have his hands lingering on you ( what was honestly foreign for Seishu), began feeling the need to find hidden meanings in the books you recommended him, and being even more protective toward you than usual.
Now Seishu would never disrespect you, or your will. If you wanted him as a best friend, then he would take what you had to give him. He would rather suffer that way than lose you at all, believe me, for someone who experienced loneliness, he would rather not go through your absence.
And so it goes, the play starts, he puts the mask, some make up on the ugly unwanted feelings, carries your shopping bags for you, helps you chose your outfit of the day, listen to all your stories about you how much of a loser your ex was, and kisses your cheek goodbye right before turning his back, dropping the mask, and untying his lacerated heart.
But deep inside, Seishu Inui is not as sugar coated as you think he is. Seishu Inui wished he was as innocent, honest with you as you thought he was, but he was not, and the first time you discovered it was...
-" You're my best friend, Sei. It's pouring outside, no need to argue, no bike. you're staying the night. "
It's too late now, you fell asleep, and he should've known, not even a king size bed could've prevented this from happening.
Your ( his) shirt was riding your hips, the covers sliding lower, the cold weather pushed you closer to his heat radiating body. A sigh escaped your lips, just as a beat escaped from his heart as you trapped his leg between your thighs, unconsciously laying your head on his arm.
Picture this, Seishu's blonde hair sprayed on your pillows, his flushed face, sleepy eyes, not moving an inch, frozen.
Or maybe just an inch, just to get into a more comfortable position-
But the friction his leg brought between your thighs had you knitting your eyebrows, a small gasp leaving your lips, something to awaken few things in Seishu.
As the respectful man he is, Seishu tries pushing your thighs away, but that only adds to that friction. And now he has you in your sleep, unconsciously rubbing yourself against him, he thinks he lost it.
Your t-shirts hangs on your waist now, Seishu hates the way his abdomen contracts seeing your bare lower half. And you're wearing nothing but your cute white panties, thus making him feel every move of your clit against his thigh.
He hates himself, and you would probably hate him too, but he swore he saw your eyelashes fluttering at some time, as you desperately chased more friction, and that convinced him to bounce his thigh harder against your clothed cunt.
-" Fuck... " He swears he's gonna stop, but he freezes the moment he hears a broken whisper.
-" Sei- ?"
Your interrogating eyes feel like a stab in the chest, Seishu would bend the knee, apologize until the end of the world, but-
But it seems your little dry humping made you unleash all of the restraints, you roll on your side and find yourself on top of him, legs on each side of his waist.
Seishu's just so pretty, mouth agape, the blue of his eyes is a meer ring around those pupils dilated from pleasure, you think he's gonna push you away. But some god must have been generous enough to give him that chance, he'd be damned to let it go. His hands find your bare hips.
-" You sure 'bout this ? " He hesitantly whispers, though his dick throbs crazy in his sweatpants, he would never neglect your needs. " Just a word, pretty girl. Just a word and I'm giving you all of my fucking love. "
From now on, Seishu solely believed that good things come to those who wait for it. Since after months and months of running from the shadow of his feelings for you, now his eyes were in bliss, swallowing every inch of you sinking on every inch of his hard cock.
Now now, Inui is a gentleman, a respectful, harmless guy.
But with your walls so tightly wrapped around him, he can't help but buckle his hips harder to meet your thrusts, can't help but grab your tits, kneading the flesh in his hands until he had you crying from pleasure and pain. Yes, Seishu is such a sweet guy, he solely believes this behavior is only what months of frustration have made of him.
And his best friend, Kokonoi had already told you once, though you didn't believed it " Seishu can be blunt sometimes ". Another thing you were yet to discover.
Those pretty lips that usually talked so nicely to you, those words that comforted you through your worst times seemed to get trapped behind the pleasure ravaging his lower half, because-
-" gotta slightest idea what you do to me ?" He thrusts his hips once again, circularly, giving particular attention to your clit. " How many times your slutty little skirts made my cock hard ?"
It drives him crazy, how your eyes widen innocently at his statement, meanwhile your pussy clenches in such a sultry around him. Intoxicating. You never knew you'd like those dirty words from the softest man you've known.
-" Pretty girl got me fucking my fist nearly every night. Shit- can feel you close, you like it dontcha ? My gorgeous baby, that's everything you truly ever wanted, right ? Having me fucking obsessed ? Pushing me to my damn limits ? Uh-"
But Seishu Inui is a dirty talker, behind closed doors, Seishu Inui is a hard groper, a carelessly harsh fucker, a sweet lover. Seishu Inui is the perfect mix.
Does anyone even remember who I am ?
Yeah I'm back, I guess ?
Hi everyone 🫶 Hope y'all doing fine and all, wassup ?
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kalims · 1 year ago
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kiss your best friend | ignihyde
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kiss your best friend and see how they react!
parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven
characters. idia, ortho
content. gender neutral reader as usual, platonic for the bby, wingman ortho at it again, forgot about this ngl
note. sorry guys idia's part was messy but I mean, I'm just portraying his chaotic feelings ig. I SWEAR ORTHO'S PART MAKES UP FOR IT SINCE HES THE CALMER ONE
damn part six finally hear after almost a year (I'm so sorry help)
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idia
is having the fastest inner monolog you will ever hear in your life, if it was being read out loud that is. could be nominated as rapper of the year with how fast he's blurting out thoughts in his mind.
also probably vocals of the year too with how high pitched, and small in range it is. what a versatile king 🔥
'anywaysitooklike10yearstryingtofindthisitemcausetheysaidtheysawitbutohmygodwhatinthethreehellsishappeningOMGaretheykissingmechatamidreamingOMGimnot??WHAT WARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'
to make your life easier 'anyways it took like ten years trying to find this item cause they said they saw it but oh my god what in the three hells is happening OMG are they kissing me chat am I dreaming OMG I'm not??? WHAT *incoherent screeching.'
probably has never kissed anyone besides his body pillows which is just one sided making out so completely forgets his 'lessons on teaching himself how to kiss' and freezes up. comically gets goosebumps and remains frozen even after you pull away.
then starts turning red from feet to head??
he has so many questions that he in fact, does NOT want to ask cause even if it cost his life he can't question you if you guys are dating now cause YOU JUST KISSED HIM SO THAT MEANS YOU BOTH UPGRADE LEVELS.
wait he can't call it friendship level. clearly you're both past level 10 now right?? INTIMACY LEVEL???? HE DOESNT KNOW HES PANICKING.
is too awkward to ask and acts even more awkward as the time is more prolong during the time he's just left wondering what the hell you guys are now cause he's too pussy to do anything without confirmation that you're both duos for life now.
ortho
is the one idia rants to about his predicament right after you part ways.
like, idia doesn't even try to call or contact ortho through the means of technology even if it meant getting to talk faster. he's BOLTING to the dorm with his unathletic ass (with breaks in between.) because the tea he was going to spill was that good.
listens intently and goes :O when idia finally mentions the part where you randomly kiss him out of the blue, by the way only getting to the point after idia spills.. umm.. the wrong thing to be honest, literally retold the whole day until that point.
yeahhhh.. he has the energy atleast.
idia is probably telling ortho about how it meant nothing even though you literally outright kissed him, to the cheek, mouth, or something and he's still gonna say it didn't mean anything.
ortho gotta be the one telling idia to make the move cause no idiot would mistake that for nothing (except idia apparently but he'll have everyone know that his brother is a tech genius!!)
they both do one of those scenes in movies where P1 - idia, is talking to you in real life with an earpiece, and P2 - ortho is said person behind the earpiece. basically the one telling idia what he should do because that guy is too lost for his own good.
"brother move closer!"
"... isn't this too close already though--" <- embarrassed and regretting everything
in the end he did manage to get a label on the two of you, no thanks to HIM and all the thanks to ortho <3
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note. ortho's part just ended up as an extension of idia's part but I always love to include him in everything :') just some behind the scenes on how idia actually got a relationship (ITS ALL ORTHO)
not pr, who prs anyways cries
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laguezze · 5 months ago
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PAC: A letter you're meant to receive
I'm baaaaack~ (kinda) (pretty casually, life's been tough)
As always here are the rules:
Minors DNI
Don't take everything to heart, this is a general reading! Take what resonates!
It's honest, I don't sugarcoat. If you're not liking what you read, keep scrolling! It may not be for you or you may not be ready for that message yet!
Let's take a look at the piles!!!
Pile 1
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Pile 2
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Pile 3
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Let's go!
Pile 1
Signs this may be for you: unicorn, South Korea , the letter S, Squirrels, Love, Skydiving, birthday, anniversary, 12, 6, 16, 2006, 2001, 2026, 1970s, Billie Eilish, John Lennon, glasses.
Dear ____,
How could you think I'm not proud of you? How could you think that minor thing you did would erase all the love I feel for you? It doesn't. I don't think anything can at this point. You're human, you're allowed to make mistakes. And while I do still think you need help, you're still doing your best, even though you don't feel like it. You're trying and I see that. You're wonderful and magical and although your light is dimmed at the moment, I know there's a bright sun under that blanket of darkness you're currently holding over your head. Everything will be ok. Have you ever not gotten a resolution to your conflict? Trust me. You're going to be fine. Let yourself be, enjoy the people around you, breathe. Treat your life like you treat your dreams. Be as excited as you can. You're alive! And while you are not responsible for this darkness that has been placed upon you, you are the only one that can take it off. I understand it's difficult, but you can do it. You're tired of fighting, but you're not just anyone. You're a legend. Legends don't have it easy. Go get them.
Pile 2
Signs this may be for you: Harry Styles, Fashion school, blood drives, nurse, 😜, smoke, laughter, blonde, blue eyes, "that boy is mine", 0%, Rihanna, water, rain, Hawaii, Jumping, Rave, Cindy, the letter C, N, and A. Numbers 5, 8, and 30, AMANDA.
Hello, it's been a while.
How are you?
This is awkward, you probably didn't expect to hear from me. I have been okay, I honestly can't stop thinking about us and how it ended. It pains me to think that you left with the impression that I didn't care. I do. I did. I just want to let you know that in another life, maybe we should try again. I don't have much to say, I'm not sure why I feel so compelled to tell you this. It's so basic. I'm being channeled right now (ok aware) and it's weird because it shouldn't be this deep but I really wanted to come through and say sorry. And say that I know you miss me and I do too. And one day we will reunite and we might be able to show our love then. Sorry it ended that way. Sorry that was the last you knew of me. I think of you each day, I dream of you each night.
Pile 3
Signs this may be for you: YES GIRL, happy, cheerful, spaghetti, squash, "I'm allergic", ibuprofen, love is in the air, matchmaker, fruits, VSCO, musically, Harmony, dating apps, Jenna, Lisa, "I stan", Twitter account, laughs, pigs, 25, 23, 2022, 2001, 2000, Beyonce.
Wow, am I impressed with you,
Not only are you grown and beautiful, you're also such a good person. I'm immensely proud of you. You're doing exactly what you need to, you're living life to the fullest and I am here for it. Remember our trips to the beach? I miss you. You should call more often. I love that you're meeting new people and having fun but sometimes I need to see you and hear from you. Please call me from time to time. I know I may seem clingy, but I just miss your presence. I also don't know when I'll actually see you next, you've become so unexpected and exciting. I love you, that's why I need to hear from you. Tell me everything, I'll listen. I'm here for you and I want what's best. Come back from time to time. Please. That's the only thing I ask of you at this time. I can't say this to you normally, you'd get uncomfortable. But please listen and take this opportunity. Let's talk more often! I wanna be part of your life again! 🥰
Hope it resonates! 💕
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conkers-thecosy · 8 months ago
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Listen, I don't mean to be rude.
...That's it, that's the post!
I don't mean to be rude, I'm just autistic. It's right there in my bio. I get cadence and tone wrong sometimes, I misunderstand social cues, I laugh inappropriately, I can be painfully direct, and I’m embarrassingly earnest sometimes, but I genuinely don't ever want or mean to upset anyone, or make folks feel uncomfortable. Do tell me if I've upset you, and I promise I'll do my best to improve and not make the same mistake again. If you think I'm being rude, I can guarantee that's not my intention, and I would truly appreciate correction from you because I honest to goodness have no idea that what I've said or done could be construed that way.
Anyway, I just wanted to float that out into the void.
Thanks!
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joekeeryswife · 9 months ago
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Love island Episode one: Coupling up.
a/n: it’s here! thank you to everyone who voted over this past week. here is the love island series. Mason has his pretty prince hair😍. villa is the 2019 UK love island villa, it will get better but i wanted to get the coupling up over with. anyways sorry if there is any mistakes, enjoy reading 🩰
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you’d never been this nervous before. sure you’d been nervous but never this bad. you had been scouted for love island by the producers and you thought you’d give it a go. you had a pretty big following being a model/influencer with just over 500k followers and this would be the perfect opportunity for you to finally find love instead of focusing on your job.
you walked into the villa in you hot pink bikini, you picked it because it would stand out and that’s what you wanted to do. you wanted to make a good first impression on whoever was in here. you made your way to the garden and saw four other girls meaning you were the last to enter before you saw Maya Jama.
“hey everyone” you said making the four girls turn towards you and scream with excitement. they met you halfway and one by one introduced themselves to you. “i’m Molly nice to meet you” she kissed you on the cheek and hugged you closely. the next girl hugged you “hi im Chloe” she hugged you.
“i’m Anna” she hugged you and kissed your cheek and then you finally moved onto the last girl “im Amber nice to meet you” you didn’t know what it was but the girls even though you hadn’t been in there long had all made you feel welcome already.
“i’m y/n, nice to meet you all” you were still nervous as Molly poured you a drink. “so, tell us about you y/n. what’s your type?” you took a sip of the champagne before starting. “well, i’m 22, in a model and influencer. my type is tall, tattoos, brown hair brown eyes, tanned skin, someone who’s athletic and don’t think i’m weird but i love noses” the girls laughed.
“don’t worry y/n, i’m with you on that one” Chloe laughed. “tell me about you girls then, we are gonna be living together for a while” you tucked your hair behind your ear as you listened to them.
Chloe started “well, i’m 25, i’m a marketing executive. my type is anyone who is taller than me to be honest. i don’t really have a type i usually go for. i like anyone, and i do have a thing for noses” you laughed again knowing that this was gonna be a recurring thing that you would all speak about.
“as you know i’m Molly, i’m 23 and i’m an influencer. my usual type is a tall brunette but i’m open to get to know everyone here” you nodded and then Anna started talking. “so i’m a pharmacist and my usual type is anyone taller than me, because i’m so tall i want someone taller than me”
to be honest Anna was very tall so it wasn’t a shock that she’d want someone taller than her. lastly Amber started talking “i’m a beautician so i do facials, lashes, lip filler, everything like that and my usual type is tall dark and handsome, i don’t know how else to explain it” you all laughed and then you all heard a voice behind you.
“hello girls” you turned towards the voice and saw Maya standing there. a few of the girls screamed, seeing her made this experience feel so much more real. “how about we all gather around the fire pit and have a chat?” all of you made your way over to the fire pit and sat down.
“so, Amber, tell me, how are you feeling about being here? are you nervous? excited?” Amber nodded “yeah i’m excited because you never know who’s gonna come through that door like it could be the love of my life” her gordie accent thick as she spoke.
you all laughed and nodded, you really never knew who was about to come through the door. “Chloe, do you think you could meet someone here? or are you skeptical about it all” Chloe shrugged “i’m pretty skeptical but i’m optimistic about the whole thing. i’m excited to meet everyone else”
“okay well, are we ready to meet some boys?” you all cheered and made your way over to the five love hearts that were by the pool. you were on the fourth heart in between Anna and Chloe. “right, remember girls that you can step forward for the guy you like but he can pick any one of you even if you don’t step forward” Maya spoke so you understood the rules.
“let’s welcome our first boy Ovie” you all looked toward the door and saw him, he was very good looking. you all clapped as he made his way down the steps. “you girls doing alright?” you all said yes as he stood next to Maya. “so girls, step forward if you like the look of Ovie” you looked at the girls and saw Anna, Chloe and Amber step forward.
“wow three girls stepping forward already. Amber, why did you step forward?” Maya questioned “he’s just really good looking, definitely my type�� Ovie was shocked that three girls stepped forward for him. he was hoping for at least one let alone three.
“y/n, why didn’t you step forward?” you blushed “now don’t get me wrong you’re very good looking but i just want to see the other options before i step forward for someone” Ovie and Maya nodded understanding where you were coming from.
“okay Ovie you have three beautiful girls who have stepped forward for you but who have you decided you are going to pick?” he was silent for a few minutes before he finally spoke up “the girl i would like to couple up with is Anna” Anna clapped with excitement that Ovie picked her. to be honest when they stood next to each other they looked perfect together.
“okay, next boy we have coming in is Toby” you all clapped again as he made his way down the steps and you heard Chloe whisper ‘oh my god’. she liked him for definite. “okay girls, if you like the look of Toby please step forward” straight away Chloe stepped forward. Chloe was the only one who stepped forward for Toby.
“okay ones not bad” he said making you frown but you quickly changed your face back to normal. “Toby you have Chloe who has stepped forward for you, would you like to couple up with Chloe or would you like to couple up with someone else?” Maya said fidgeting on her feet.
“Chloe is beautiful so i’m going to couple up with Chloe” you all clapped as Toby made his way over to Chloe and he kissed her on her cheek. Chloe blushed and smiled happily that Toby picked her.
“Molly why haven’t you stepped forward for any of the boys?” Maya asked looking at her intensely. “they just aren’t my type really, i bet they’re lovely but i’m just waiting for that spark straight away” Maya nodded “okay well i think you may like this next boy then, please welcome Tommy”
Molly gasped as he made his way down the steps, she was in shock at how good looking he was. “okay girls, if you like the look of Tommy please step forward” Amber and Molly stepped forward. “wow two girls, didn’t expect that” Tommy said smiling widely. “well, Molly and Amber have stepped forward for you Tommy, who would you like to couple up with? remember you can pick someone who has stepped forward for you, in a couple or even a girl who hasn’t stepped forward.
Tommys eyes scanned through the girls before making his decision. “i would like to couple up with Molly” she jumped a little as Tommy picked her. “thank you for picking me” Molly said as she gave Tommy a hug and he kissed her on the cheek. “you’re welcome beautiful” she blushed brightly.
“okay girls, last two boys. y/n, do you think you will step forward? you haven’t stepped forward for anyone” you nodded “i know, i feel bad but no one has really caught my eye yet” Maya understood “hopefully someone will catch you eye” you agreed.
“okay girls welcome Curtis” you didn’t even like the sound of that name right off the bat and seeing him just solidified that for you. he was not your type at all. “okay girls, if you like the look of Curtis please step forward” you were not stepping forward. you didn’t want to just step forward because you had too, you were here for yourself.
it was silent for a few minutes and sadly no one stepped forward for Curtis. his smile faltered slightly before he quickly put it back on his face. “oh Curtis i’m sorry” Maya said and he just shrugged it off “it’s no bother, they just haven’t gotten to know me yet.” he replied.
“okay well don’t worry, you can couple up with any of these girls. who would you like to couple up with?” Maya continued “i would like to couple up with y/n” your heart dropped but you didn’t show your sadness, you just had to get on with it.
Curtis made his way over to you and gave you an awkward hug. “y/n, how are you feeling?” god you hated that she had to ask you that “oh uhh, i’m glad i got picked but i just didn’t see that initial attraction but i guess i don’t know Curtis?” you sounded like you were questioning yourself.
“okay well, let’s see our next boy. please welcome Mason” you turned your head toward the door and your heart started beating. there he was and you were in shock at how pretty he was. “hey everyone” he said, even his voice was sexy. “girls, if you like the look of Mason please step forward” straight away you stepped forward as did Chloe and Amber followed.
“wow y/n, i’m shocked. you actually stepped forward for someone” you blushed and laughed. “well, it glad she did step forward for me” Mason winked at you and you felt weak. he was making you feel things you’d never felt before.
“Mason you have the choice to couple up with any of these girls, who would you like to couple up with?” Mason answered straight away “y/n” you were ecstatic. “that means Curtis automatically couples up with Amber” Curtis walked over to Amber and Mason made his way over to you and kissed you on the cheek and pulled you into a nice hug. “nice to meet you” he said as you stepped back to the heart.
“nice to meet you too. thank you for choosing me” your body felt hot, he was the perfect man by looks, and he had a nice nose. “well, you’re a beautiful girl. i’m excited to get to know you” you locked eyes with him, his eyes were dark brown but in the sunlight you could see golden hues which were so pretty.
“okay guys, everyone is now coupled up. i’ll leave you too it and remember, if you don’t get to know anyone your place in the villa may be at risk. good luck” with that Maya left and it felt even more real. “should we go over to the swing? i want to know more about you” you nodded your head and smiled. Mason grabbed ahold of your hand and the two of you headed over to the swing.
*to be continued*
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6ix9inewiturmom · 7 months ago
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Les - Chris Sturniolo
Summary: just listen to the song you’ll understand it
Warnings: EmotionallyUnavailable!Chris!, cursing, angsty-ish, Use of Y/N, crying, unestablished relationship, mentions of sexual acts
A/N: I absolutely love anything to do with childish Gambino so thanks for this request!! If you squint you can see some lyrics from Diet mtn dew from Lana del Rey in here lol ! PLOT TWIST AT THE END?!?!?!
PSA: DONT USE MY WORK FOR ISPARATION OR ANYTHING ELSE I WROTE THIS!! get creative
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Chris and i’s relationship wasn't the most ideal relationship. When we met we had both just gotten out of a long-term relationship and weren't looking for anything serious, so we made a mutual agreement to just ‘fuck around and find out’ type of relationship, but that was 2 years ago. He fucks other girls, but I hardly ever fuck anyone besides him, no one can ever make me feel as good as he does, and vice versa, because at the end of the day, I’m still the one he calls when he can’t ‘get off’ from someone else. No one knew or knows were just fuck buddies, to the outside eye, were just really good friends.
𝜗𝜚 Small flashback 𝜗𝜚
Chris had his hand around my throat in the hallway of this house party we were at, his lips explored my mouth making their way to my jaw and leaving little blueish marks on my neck.
“I hope nobody catches us” i whisper seductively with a big smirk on my face.
“But I kinda hope they catch us,” he says lifting his head with a cheeky smile on his face before placing a small kiss on my lips.
𝜗𝜚 End of flashback 𝜗𝜚
I knew the second I realized I was catching feelings for him I was fucked. I only wanted him, I could care less about any other guy if I’m being honest every time I fucked another guy I always thought about Chris, imagined his voice, his hands, and the way they traveled my body, his lips on my skin. I needed him so fucking badly.
I’m laying in bed staring at my ceiling debating whether to go to sleep or go see Chris. I needed to know if I needed to move on from him and the euphoric hold he had on me or if he actually wanted something from me.
Y/N
R u busy?
Chris?
I was debating whether to invite Kristi over but if you wanna come over feel free to 😏
Y/N
I just wanted to talk, Chris
Chris?
Doors open ma
Fuck.. Was I making a mistake? Should I turn around? This was a bad idea, I always lie to myself escaping from the fact I am in love with him. I get the courage to finally drive out of my driveway and make my way to Chris’ house for the majority of the drive, out of nervousness biting my fingernails and blasting music. What was he gonna say? What was he gonna do? Does he like me? Does he only wanna fuck me?
As I park my car in front of the triplet's house, I take a deep breath and slowly make my way up to the door. After a moment of hesitation, I open it and step inside, greeted by the familiar scent of attempted baked cookies for their YouTube channel. I climb the stairs and find Nick and Matt sitting on the couch, their phones in their hands as they laugh heartily at funny TikTok videos. The room is filled with the sound of their laughter and the glow of the screen illuminating their faces.
“Oh hey Y/N i didn't know you were coming over” nick says greeting me with a smile.
“I just came to talk to Chris, he said something about an idea he had for his personal YouTube channel and needed a ‘feminine’ touch to it” I lie laughing softly.
“Oh yeah good luck with that, kids hopeless for that channel” matt jokes smiling up at me from the couch.
With a gentle smile on my face, I make my way down the hallway towards Chris' room. As I approach his door, I raise my hand and knock softly before waiting for his response. Once I receive permission, I slowly push the door open and step inside.
“Hey ma” he smiles jumping up out of his bed and greeting me with a tight embrace with his arms around my waist pulling me into his chest before pulling away “So what'd you wanna talk about?” he continues before patting down next to him on the bed.
“Um, so I've been thinking recently, well not recently, a lot actually” I start looking down at my hands spinning my ring around on my middle finger. “Fuck it I'm just gonna go for it, I like you a lot Chris, like I know we're just friends with hidden benefits, and I know you're fucking other people, I've barely fucked anyone, and when I do I'm always thinking about you, and you just have this majestic euphoric hold over me and I can't fucking take not knowing how you feel about me any longer,” I say passionately standing up and looking at Chris and his facial expression isn't what I hoped.
“Listen Y/N,” he says standing up and grabbing my hand as if he is trying to let me down softly “You're an amazing person, you've got the best personality, and you're fucking amazing in bed” he chuckles to himself “I wanna try, but I'm in an awful guy, and I'm always away, basically what I'm trying to say is I'm a piece of shit,” he says looking deeply into my eyes.
“Chris..” I start swallowing the lump in my throat.
“No no, don't, I'm just not ready for anything serious, and if I was I would go straight to you,” he says in an attempt to make things better but fails immediately.
The tears start forming in the corners of my eyes “You're not good for me,” I say looking up at him as his hands cup my cheeks “But, Chris, baby, I want you, all of you, I can fix you,” my bottom lip goes between my teeth as a singular tear falls from my left eye. His thumb immediately wipes away the tear.
“Y/N, I'm sorry, you can't change my mind, as much as I am deeply attached to everything about you, head to toe, I can’t handle a relationship,” he says as his voice softens.
“Chris it’s been 2 years, we got out of a relationship at the same time, I'm completely over it, how much longer do I have to wait for you to be over it” my voice cracks as another tear falls down my face
“No one asking you to wait, Y/N, if you want to be in a relationship I'm sure there gonna be a guy out there that'll love and care for you,” he says backing away and sitting down on his bed.
“Chris that's the problem, I don't want anyone but you, YOU Christopher, just you” I sniffle out.
“I'm not really sure what to tell you, Y/N, I've spoken my peace, either you can agree to it, or not, cause to me I'm perfectly fine just fucking around,” he says almost unbothered at the face in standing in front of him pouring my heart out just for him destroy it.
I press my lips together and nod “Well if you change your mind, or come to your senses about these gold digger fuckers you bringing over to your damn house please feel free to contact me, if not, don't contact me” I say walking out slamming his door causing an array of stares from nick and matt.
“Everything okay?” matt quickly says as he notices the tears start to form in my eyes.
I take a deep breath “No but I'll be alright eventually but I'm not sure how much of me you'll be seeing around anymore” i say quickly wiping away the tear before it falls.
“Woah woah hold the fucking phone” Nick exclaims standing up and making his way toward me before bringing me into a fight embrace.
The immediate tears start flooding out of me as nick hugs me, which sends matt into a panic and immediately coming over to join the hug.
“So what happened” Matt says pulling away
“I told your brother i had feelings for him and he just acted insensitive” i sniffle out.
“You like Chris?” Nick says shockingly.
“I thought I did” I shrugged “but obviously he's not ‘ready’ for a relationship and apparently if I'm ready for a relationship then I should be in one but he wasn't really understanding I only wanted him” I dab away at my eyes which had tears forming in them.
“Kids an asshole, don't listen to him, he'll eventually figure out what he lost eventually,” Matt says almost unsure. “There's always any other single Sturinolo,” Matt says under his breath.
“What was that?” I say looking towards Matt.
“Uh nothing nothing, it doesn't matter,” he says nervously laughing and scratching the back of his head.
“Well, I better get going it's late anyway” i say giving my last hugs.
“Let me walk you out,” matt says grabbing my shoulder and leading me out the door.
“I can walk myself out matt” i smile up at him.
“Yesh I know but it'd be worth pissing off Chris if he saw me walking you out” Matt says smirking down as we make it to my car.
“Thank you matt” i wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a hug as his arms tightly go around my waist pulling me closer.
As we embraced each other tightly, I couldn't help but glance up toward Chris' window and notice a pair of striking blue eyes glaring down at us. The little eyes were filled with anger and disapproval, as if they were witnessing something they shouldn't. Matt was still holding me in his arms, grinning from ear to ear, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that we were being watched. Despite the warmth of the hug, I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy under the watchful gaze of those piercing blue eyes.
“Thank you matt” i say pulling away and opening the door to my car and adjusting myself in the driver seat.
“Anytime” he smiles back at me closing my driver-side door and walking back into the house.
Maybe messing around with Matt wouldn't be a bad idea, after all, Chris did say anyone would be lucky, but never said who…
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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mokulule · 1 year ago
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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 9
First|Masterlist
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst, depression, canon typical violence.
Jason was not angry he was frustrated. There was a difference. A distinct difference that Jason knew very well.
Ghost kept running. He would steal a thing. Evade some goons, cause he often stole from the rogues. Then evade some bats, lead them in a new direction, sometimes changing overall direction mid chase, there really was no rhyme or reason to it.
And then, when Jason showed up, he’d invariably be standing on another rooftop and disappear. All the while Jason could feel his longing and sorrow, a call for help he wouldn't let Jason answer, and it was frustrating and confusing, but mostly frustrating.
Because Jason was not angry.
He may have snapped at Dick, when he made a joke about his princess being in another castle, but he hadn’t actually laid hands on anyone. He made sure nobody made the mistake of touching him.
He ducked his head, never stuck around and ignored the looks he got. Worry, pity, wariness, Jason flip-flopped how he interpreted the gazes. A loose canon, that’s what they thought he was. But Jason was not. His chest burned, but Jason was not angry. Because he knew the difference, between himself and the pits. He knew. But they didn’t. They didn’t understand and Jason could not explain - not without him sounding unstable. There was no way he could explain things and keep cool. They wouldn’t understand that he kept away for their sake. At best he’d be benched.
Benched, a bitter voice mocked, locked up and thrown in Arkham more like. Criminal, murderer, crazy.
He shook his head. Pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t allow himself to be benched. He needed to catch Ghost - to make him listen and explain just for a moment so he could understand what was going on with him and the pits.
As long as Jason didn’t cross the line, they wouldn’t try anything. He had to believe that.
Oo o oO
Bruce was at a loss.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Jason hadn’t pointed a gun at any of them, Bruce would have thought they’d gone a year or two back in time. He was tense and curt and kept himself at a distance. Always out of reach.
It wasn’t like he joined their patrols regularly normally, but he could usually be counted on if something big was going down. Now Bruce wasn’t so sure he’d want to ask him if something happened. It seemed like he was nearing breaking point and Bruce feared what way he’d fall.
The thief, Ghost, was at the center of this. Something was going on there, but it was like he was missing crucial information. Jason was downright frantic to catch him.
Danny Fenton. The name was still a dead end. The DNA sample useless. His contact at Star Lab had gotten back to him and informed him they’d had a break in weeks ago, before the thefts started in Gotham - nothing had been stolen, the invisible perpetrator had been found out because of the electromagnetic disturbance his stealth tech gave off, or rather that was what their reports said. The recorded disturbance matched the readings they got off of the Ghost.
It was quite possible there were many more unrecorded thefts before the Ghost came to Gotham. He’d already informed Tim and watched him pale from the realization that they actually had no idea how far the Ghost was with what he was building. If building something was indeed what he was doing with the eclectic mix of parts he’d stolen. Tim had a theory, that much was obvious, but he was not at a point where he felt he had enough evidence to share it.
When Bruce had told him of the Star Lab incident, he’d glanced towards where they’d stored the spectral calibrator, before his shoulders had forcefully relaxed.
Bruce was no slouch when it came to technology, but mostly when it came to operating it. He could infiltrate systems and extract information fine, but it he was honest, the kids were better, and since he rarely worked alone these days, he didn’t get as much practice - he wondered momentarily if this is what it was like growing old.
It was something he’d never expected when he set out on his mission as a young man, growing old that is.
Besides while Bruce had designed a fair few gadgets in his time, and assembled the Bat computer himself back in the early days when it didn’t have near the capabilities it did today, he was not an inventor. Lucius was the one who’d made his more fanciful ideas workable in the early days.
And now he had all these talented kids.
It didn’t matter most of them were adults, they’d always be kids to him. Here he went again getting distracted.
He rubbed his forehead. Point was, Bruce couldn’t see what the parts could be used for but Tim could. And it was something that worried him, which in turn worried Bruce and like always these days his thoughts circled back to his worry for Jason.
He’d given him time, like Dick had said - three weeks so far in fact. And instead of things calming down they’d become worse. The Ghost’s continued escape was winding Jason up, there were no two ways about it. They needed to capture him.
Bruce had to be honest with himself, if it wasn’t for Jason, the Ghost would be very low priority for them. He wasn’t hurting anyone, just a thief. Before the day Jason had tackled the Ghost on the rooftop, he had been low priority. Amusing in fact, with the way he riled up Damian with his continued escapes, it had been low stakes - safe in a way many of their missions weren’t.
But now, Tim was working frantically on ways to capture the Ghost, they’d tried nets of various materials (some even Martians had trouble phasing through) with no success. Barbara was still trying to unearth more information from the phone, also with no success.
Steph and Cass had been steadily and stealthily working on changing the cameras throughout the city connected to Barbara’s network to ones with better filters and built in detectors for electromagnetic disturbances over a certain threshold - a very bothersome process since most of the cameras technically weren’t theirs and had to be indistinguishable from the originals and send visuals to the real owners of the same (low) quality they’re used to in case somebody decided to take a closer look.
Damian was giving him long looks, when he thought he wasn’t noticing. He was hiding something and he’d been sneaking off on his own. Bruce was trying to convince himself to leave it alone. He’d nearly lost Damian in the past because he was too controlling.
Trust, it was something he was trying to practice but it irked at him not to know. What if he got in trouble? He had to forcibly remind himself, it was most likely that Damian was just sneaking off to some wild animal he was hiding and nursing back to health.
Duke had just gotten back from a three month exchange program abroad, he would have to be caught up to speed. Maybe his abilities would give them some additional insight.
Hopefully.
Oo o oO
Jason was not angry, he was livid. Ghost was on another rooftop. About to do his disappearing act, again again again.
“Come back here!” He yelled.
Fear not his own hit him in a sickly yellow haze. He gasped and struggled not to throw up. Ghost was gone again. Of course he was. His one chance and-
“Jason…” the words were quiet, barely audible, Bruce. Jason grit his teeth. Bruce was a fucking hypocrite saying his name in costume like that.
A step forward was heard, a purposefully made sound to announce his approach, and Jason spun.
“Don’t touch me!” His guns were pointed at Bruce. He stood frozen, the hand he’d no doubt been reaching toward Jason was pulled back. It served him right.
Jason didn’t trust him. He should shoot him, teach him not to get too close. He knew Batman’s armor, he knew the weak spots. It would be easy. A rubber bullet wouldn’t kill, but it would hurt.
Jason wanted him to hurt; like he hurt.
He wanted-
He wanted-
He couldn’t remember loading his guns tonight. The realization struck him like a splash of ice water. Rubber bullets or live ammunition?
He didn’t know!
He followed the aim of his still raised guns, pointed at his dad’s chest, the armor could only do so much at such a close distance.
Real bullets or rubber?
Jason took a step backwards in horrified realization. It didn’t matter. Not at this close range. Both would be lethal. He knew that. He knew guns. Why had that even been a question? Why was he still pointing his guns at Bruce?
A wounded sound escaped his throat and he turned and ran.
He’d crossed the line.
-
Poor Jay, huh? Can Danny keep escaping the bats? Will Jason be okay? Tim POV next time, we're in serious need of a plan here, come on Timmers.
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itsgrimeytime · 1 year ago
Text
show me || Rick Grimes (TWD)
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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dialogue prompts: “Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” (2) + “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same as I do, then I’ll leave you alone.”  (36) + “I’m tired of being on the sidelines.”  (43)
Summary: You and Rick had something, you weren't quite sure what it was. After a few drunken mistakes during one of the dinner parties at Alexandria, Rick wants to make things crystal clear.
TWS: TENSION, blood, gore, gun violence (violence in general), alcohol, drunkness, drunken kisses, kind of dark!Rick, jealousy, possessiveness, protectiveness, all things consistent with TWD.
[[A/N: The vibes are in with this one, girlies. Kind of listened to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron for this one. SO... Be ready for that. Thanks for reading!!! ]]
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Your head hurt after the night before, you couldn't quite remember why. Well, other than the drinks.
It had been the first dinner party after Alexandria, you were nervous and just kept sipping. Somebody kept giving you more, even though, you remember distinctly Rick (big hands and blue, blue eyes) warding them off. They continued when he wasn't by your side -beer after beer and maybe something... else? You couldn't really remember.
You gathered pretty quickly that Rick was mad at you that day, something about the way he composed himself -the steaming rage enveloping him, and it only continued for days.
Day after day, and nothing. Usually, you could read him like a book, but now, all you got was well, that he was mad at you. Not even to get you started on the way everyone else was distinctively ignoring your questions like Rick had told them to.
So, you stepped out of your comfort zone -you went straight to the most honest Alexandrian you knew. Or the one who would speak to you over Rick's head -Deanna.
There was something deep in your chest that told you somehow this was betrayal, but you had been driven far past that point. (One blue-eyed glare and complete head turn to ignore you past that point.)
"Hey," you spoke, a little uneasy.
"Hello, Y/N!" she smiled, big and bright, "-I'm glad to see that dinner has been going so well-"
"That's actually what I was here to talk to you about," you echoed, direct in your tone, "-last dinner party, I... I don't remember what happened."
"Nothing bad, I can assure you," she hummed, continuing to walk down the street, "-I'm well aware of anyone overstepping."
"Right, well, I'm glad, but-" you spoke, a little impatiently -eyes darting around, "-I don't remember."
"Nothing wrong with getting a little drunk," she spoke, something in her shifting, "-we understand the change is-"
"Deanna," you interrupted with finality, "-please, just tell me what happened."
She paused in her steps, turning around to fully face you -head on, and something in you shrunk at her inquisitive gaze. She looked at you a bit like a puzzle for a moment, before her eyes seemed to light up in understanding like she knew exactly what the issue was.
"Let's..." she began, slowly, "-Let's talk inside, shall we?"
You merely followed her up the steps and into her house, like a sheep to its shepherd -you were desperate. If she could help, you would just about do anything.
"I was wondering just what was with him," Deanna muttered to herself, "-makes so much sense now."
She led you to her living room, where the room was much the same in her own home, but she had photos -framed and set pristinely of faces you didn't quite know. Ones you doubted you ever would.
"Sit," she motioned, "-we have much to discuss."
"Much?" you questioned.
"Well, no, it's-" she started, but faltered for a moment, "-rather complicated."
"Complicated?" you questioned further, raising your voice.
"Look, I'm going to just tell you to avoid any further confusion. You kissed someone, can't remember who now-"
You paused, faltering for a minute, "That's it?"
"Rick saw," she finished as if it was some big reveal.
You and Rick had a thing, a very slight thing that neither of you had really even commented on or talked about. Hell, you hadn't even kissed the guy, but there was something there, a deep buzz under your skin. And something in the apocalypse was something, sure, but not if he didn't talk to you about it. Not if he-
You stopped your train of thought, "So?"
"Aren't you-" she seemed to pause, being taken off guard, "-Aren't the two of you together?"
"I'm sorry?" you asked, "-No, we're not... not really. He doesn't- It doesn't matter, drunkenly kissing a guy is no reason to get this pissy."
"It is if you're together."
"Deanna," you started, "-don't push your luck. Look, I have to go sort this out, do you-"
"Oh, no, please," she answered, quickly, "-I can't get a word in with the man right now. Fix it, go."
That's how you wound up here, ready at his door -he couldn't ignore you at his own home. You'd get him to listen.
"Rick," you addressed, direct as soon as the door opened and you saw the blue of his eyes, "-hey."
He seemed to still at your voice -frozen for a moment, before wordlessly moving around the kitchen. He was gathering up dishes, at a sure pace before, but now he'd begun much faster. As if he was trying to get away from you.
"Alright, enough-" you said, waltzing up to him, and turning his face to yours, "-why are you mad?"
Rick looked at you for a moment, and something in you almost grew shy at the attentiveness. Blue eyes dashing along your face like you were fresh water and he had been stranded in the desert.
And then, he stopped. Lifting his soapy hands to take yours off his face -a slow, gentle movement. The opposite of someone mad, you noted.
"Do we need to talk 'bout this?" He echoed, a little helplessly if you were honest.
"I don't know," you answered, "-you tell me. Can you not be mad if we don't talk about this?"
"I'm not," he sighed, turning back to the dishes -this time doing them leisurely, "-I'm not mad. I just..."
"You just what?" You asked, pointedly.
"I just think you can choose better people to kiss," he grumbled out so low you weren't even sure you'd heard him correctly.
But something in you fired off like a rocket.
"Seriously?!" You yelled out, a sort of toned frustrated yell, but still a yell, "-you are pissed because you don't approve?"
"That's not-"
"Well, I got good news for ya, Sheriff, I don't even remember who I kissed last night-"
"That's because he made ya so drunk-"
"-And on top of that, I can kiss who I want, when I want. It's not like you have any control over that-"
"I want to," he grumbled out, even lower.
You stilled, "I'm sorry...?"
He didn't speak for a moment, washing the soap off his hands -you watched the water trail down to his elbow. Scrubbing away at the dish towel, he dried them and turned to face you.
Rick's steps were slow and sure, you could hear the clink of the tile under his boot. And your heart started pounding with anticipation, maybe he was mad. Why was he getting so close-
He was just in front of you now, finger trailed under your chin, "Tell me to stop, if you don't want this."
You turned your head down to look at the tile, something in your breath catching that you could barely breathe. You just needed a second-
He flicked your eyes back to him, and you could feel his breaths on your lips, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same as I do, then I'll leave you alone."
"Rick-"
He raised an eyebrow, "I asked a question, Y/N."
"How do you feel?"
He roamed closer, eyes dashing between the two of yours and your lips, "I think you know, sweetheart."
You opened your mouth.
"But," he interrupted, "-if ya insist."
Rick pulled back slightly, hand leaving its trail to, instead, hold your wrists -gently, as his thumbs rubbed into your wrists. With another breath, he kissed your palms -pressing his lips there ever so slightly.
"I'm tired of being on the sidelines," he spoke, low and soft, "-I... I want it to be us. Together."
"Together?" You echoed.
"Like you stay in my house, you sleep in my bed, we go to dinners together instead of so... so far apart-"
"And you can tell me who to kiss?" You added, playfully.
"And I'm the only one you can kiss," he corrected with the smallest of grins, but there was something hard in his eyes. Something serious.
"So," you spoke, expectantly, "-kiss me then. So, I can see what I'm stuck with."
"Stuck?" He laughed, slowly leaning in, "-Oh darlin' you're gonna be far from stuck."
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