#no excuse not to get an A though this time

[ellecdc]

this may be a bit left field from what you were asking but i had this idea in my head for awhile of remus being told he couldn't have children because of the whole werewolf thing and reader gets pregnant and he instantly thinks he's been cheated on and it couldn't be his because of what he was told from a young age (his self esteem and insecurity that he isn't good enough etc. flaring up!! not that he truly believes she would but he's spiralling and it's the only explanation right????) and it takes lily and the marauders to knock some sense into him and realise he's been given a little miracle and a chance at having a family like he's always wanted!!! (i imagine being told he couldn't have children put the whole werewolf thing into perspective and meant he secretly yearned for it as it was another thing it had taken from him)

sorry this was long, if it's rubbish please ignore, it's why i've anonned!!!

poor angsty moony hahahaha. thanks for your request!

Remus Lupin x Black!reader who tells him she's pregnant, and he doesn't respond well [1.7k words]

CW: pregnancy, implied belief of cheating/adultery with a happy ending, background jilypad because I wanted to

“Wait, wait, wait.” James interrupted, holding his hands up from the table as Lily folded her lips over her teeth like she was working over time trying not to laugh. “Hang on. Are you telling me-”

“This is not funny, James.” Sirius hissed, glaring daggers at Remus though his hold on Harry in his arms was as soft as ever.

A giggle escaped Lily’s lips, though she was quick to slap a hand over her mouth when Sirius turned his burning gaze to her. 

“You’re telling me” James continued “that your girlfriend-”

“My sister.” Sirius interrupted.

“- that you love-”

“More than life itself, right.” Remus continued.

“- told you she was pregnant, and you…” James trailed off, clearly waiting for someone else to jump in here. 

“Came here?” Lily tried.

“Ran off like a sod?” Sirius muttered. 

“Told her you…didn’t believe her?” James offered.

“It’s impossible!” Remus argued.

“Do you not fuck your girlfriend, Moons?” James drawled then, causing Sirius to moan very dramatically as he held his son against his face as if he couldn’t even look at Remus right now; Harry, for his part, found that hilarious and started pulling at his papa’s long hair. 

“Sod off, James.” Remus groaned miserably as he ran his hands over his face. “It’s impossible, werewolves cannot procreate.”

It was Lily who asked “Says who?” 

“Just… everyone.”

“Everyone?” James asked, his eyebrows rising over the frames of his glasses.

“Yes, James, everyone.” Remus hissed. “The…healers-”

“Would have told your parents they had ‘no idea what your future holds’.” Lily explained simply. “What lycanthrope have they studied to know if that’s true or not?”

“There has never been any cases of a werewolf successfully procreating, Lily.” Remus explained simply.

“So just because it’s never been bloody written down, you think it could never happen?” Sirius spat then, looking around Harry’s little body who still had a fistfull of his hair to level Remus with a look. “So, what? She’s lying? She’s making it up? She’s cheating on you?”

The room fell quiet as everyone, even Harry, turned to look at Remus as they waited for a response.

“Remus.” Lily breathed out in disbelief when he didn’t provide one.

“You didn’t…” James sighed.

“Remus fucking Lupin, I swear to Merlin if you-”

“What was I supposed to say!?” Remus exploded then. “I- it’s supposed to be impossible. Werewolves cannot or do not procreate, they cannot be parents, they-”

But his excuses sounded feeble, even to his own ears. Lily was right; no studies as such have ever been conducted on lycanthropes. Sirius was right; there was no evidence because it had just never been written down. James was right; Remus does fuck his girlfriend. 

Remus had always assumed this was just one more thing that his lifelong curse had stolen from him; the ability to ever have a family of his own. 

Although, there were a lot of things Remus’ lycanthropy was supposed to have taken from him, yet….

Yet, he had two parents who loved him unconditionally and did everything they could for him, even though there were no rule books or how-to guides on raising a werewolf child. Yet, he had been accepted to attend Hogwarts at age 11, even though he never expected to be able to attend school with his affliction. Yet, he met four boys on the train who turned out to be his roommates, who turned out to be his friends, who turned out to be his pack, even though they didn’t have to be. Yet, he found himself a precious love who loved him in return, even though you were raised to lift your nose at anyone who wasn’t a pureblood, even though you were raised to harbour disdain for creatures and beasts alike, even though you were a Black and he was a Lupin, even though you were a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor, even though….even though. 

Remus wasn’t supposed to have any of this, yet here he was. And he wasn’t supposed to ever have children of his own, yet…

“Oh Godric.” Remus breathed out as he sat back in his chair; both hands over his mouth in a silent gasp as he stared unseeingly past his three friends. 

“You know Sunny loves you to the stars and back, Remus.” Sirius started earnestly. “And the fact that you think she could have ever betrayed you like that-”

“I didn’t.” Remus hissed. “I don’t.”

“I know, Rem.” Lily offered, even though Sirius didn’t seem all that convinced. “It’s just what you thought made the most sense at the time.” 

But it really didn’t make sense at all. The thought would have absolutely never crossed his mind in a million years if he hadn’t been told his entire life that this was just impossible for him. 

“Have you wanted kids, Rem?” James asked quietly then, and Remus’ eyes came back into focus as he looked at Harry.

Harry, who was the spitting image of James, who had Lily’s eyes, who had Sirius’ mischief. Who was loved beyond measure and loved his parents exactly as they were.

Did he want kids? He certainly liked kids. He loved Harry. He thinks he’d be a good dad… that is, if it weren’t for the lyca-

“I can see where your mind is going, Remus.” Lily interrupted his spiralling then. “We didn’t ask if you should be a dad - which is not even a question, by the way - we asked if you wanted to be.”

“Yes.” Remus whispered; the answer came so easily. 

“Alright then.” Sirius declared, sitting Harry up as if they both meant business. “So let’s pretend - even for a sodding second - that Y/N did end up pregnant by some random imaginary bloke that doesn’t exist. This would mean that she apparently had many options, yet she came running to tell you. She’s pregnant, and she wants to do this with you.” 

And if Remus didn’t feel like an arse before, he certainly felt like one now. He knows you would never do that to him, of course he does. But even if you had the choice of 100 other men to father your child - all of whom would be able to provide for you better, who wouldn’t risk the safety of your child every month, who wouldn’t risk passing that curse down to your child, who wouldn’t make their life harder by simply being the offspring of a werewolf - you wanted it to be him. You wanted Remus. 

The good, the bad, and The Wolf - you wanted him all. 

“I think you need to go talk to your girlfriend, Moons.” James offered with a hopeful smile, and Remus couldn’t agree more. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The flat was quiet when Remus stepped through the floo; the entire space seemed spotless, evidence of your anxious tidying taking over after Remus took off.

Remus tried to tamp down the guilt and shame working its way up his throat as he took off his shoes and jacket, placing them in their designated spots lest he disrupt the perfect kept house you’ve worked on all afternoon (and well into the evening, now that Remus could see that the sun was long gone from the sky). 

He found you in the living room at the desk bent over a book and some papers, and Remus found himself smiling without his consent when he was brought back to late nights in the Hogwarts library; his grades profiting greatly simply because he wanted to find any excuse to be in your company. He’d find out later that you were doing the same. 

You looked over at him expectantly, and Remus felt his heart splinter at the cautious, uncertain expression on your face. It was as though you were afraid of him, like you weren’t sure what he was about to do or say. 

“Dove?” He ventured. “Can we talk?” 

“That’s what I’d been trying to do, Remus.” You merely whispered, and Remus can’t remember the last time he’d ever heard you sound so small.

He made for you immediately, crouching down beside your chair so that he could look up at you. “I’m so sorry, baby, I-”

“And you accused me of whoring around and ran out on me.” You added, and the final fracture split Remus’ heart in two when he saw your eyes well with tears. “Remus, I would never-”

“I know dove, I know.” Remus insisted, reaching up to take your face in both of his, quickly wiping at the tears falling from your lower lashes. “I know you wouldn’t. I know that, I just- I didn’t think it was possible for me, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to have kids.”

You sucked in a shuddering breath and closed your eyes, clearly trying to will away the onslaught of emotions. Remus felt like scum of the earth. 

“I never imagined I’d ever get a chance like this.” He whispered. 

“Well,” you offered primly, and Remus could tell you were working hard to imbue a certain levity to your words, “I’m not sure that you should, now. Taking off on me like that.” 

Remus knew you were joking, but he sighed at you as he pouted his lips. “M’so sorry, dove.”

“You should be.” You agreed, though you leaned forward to press your forehead against his. 

The two of you sat in silence for some time; you evening out your breathing, and Remus drawing circles with his thumbs where they rested on your arms as his legs started to cramp. 

“Are you really going to have my baby?” He whispered then; the weight of the words finally settling somewhere deep within his soul, though not unpleasantly. 

“Well, yes, but I’m not going to do it on my own.” You responded, sitting up to look at Remus imploringly. “So what do you say, Lupin? Are you in or out?”

In, of course. All the way in; for as long as he lived, for as long as you wanted him, he was in. He was all in.

[fallbhind]

‘CASUAL’ RAFE CAMERON

genre smut, angst wordcount 1.4k

❝ i've heard so many rumors. ❜

content warnings ,, mentions oral (f!receiving), p in v, masterbation in the bathroom, 'no attachment sex', rumors (blegh, drama llama.), rafe and reader break up. s1 era.

it was so tiring being rafe's quick fix because you just wanted a real thing, y'know, not some quickie on his couch. the worst thing? your friends (not so friendly friends) call you a loser because you still hanging out with him, when any girl would have done dumped him and found someone better. but he is, or was your better.

sure, you did everything with rafe (when he called you up, not when you asked. sure one day you were fed up, left him a voicemail because of course he wouldn't pick up for you. "i've heard so many rumors." you said through the crackly phone. "that i'm just some girl you bang on your couch, i can't believe i thought you thought of me better."

an hour later (per usual), he answered you an hour later, telling you to 'hurry your ass out to tanneyhill'

you thought for a long hard while before ultimately deciding to head out to tanneyhill. where death literally layer waiting for you in your grave. you knew quite well what he was mad about and what he wanted, because you've sent multiple voicemails about the rumors going around outerbanks, you've heard about them and you‘be literally heard tourons living in the drama with you and rafe.

and you could never leave your back turned to long before people behind started murmuring up a storm.

you walked closer to your death in your busted up converses, running over impossible scenarios in your head. you stopped at the gate, texting rafe 'im here come to the gate.' you said with all intentions to be sassy. when you saw him, his pushed back curtain bangs, every part of him looked so hot.

he opened the gate, telling you to come on. rafe roughly grabbed your arm, taking you to his fathers study room were he did most of his work. whilst you were extremely liked throughout the cameron household, only you, rafe and maybe even sarah knew the real intent to your relationship. rafe said annoyingly, "we're not together, let me make myself clear.

it was like his mood immediately changed as he continued, "just a quick fix whenever we need it." when what he really meant to say was when he needed it. maybe you really should dump him. if that's how it really works. he kissed your forehead, "'n baby, no attachment." though three weeks ago he excused the both of you so he could be knee deep in the passenger seat while he was eating you out, remembering all those sweet nothings he whispered into you pussy that made you give him what he wanted. not to mention, he always acted so lovey dovey with you. and it was about time you got fed up.

you didn't expect for his step-mom, rose, two weeks later after the major argument with rafe to invite you for dinner at tanneyhill. rafe, put on a mock smile, ready to peel the skims dress off your body. you were greeted by ward, and did he piss you off, with the fake smiling and his eyes trailing across your body whenever he could. perv.

"welcome, you look nice and sophisticated." ward said with the nicest tone he could bear, "no wonder rafe doesn't bring you up, your so lovely i'd hog you to." he laughed, and it sounded so fake. rafe had his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the dining room.

you took a seat in between wheezie and sarah, rafe sat across from you, with a pissed off expression. like, how could your's and his situation be casual now? you've literally done every thing, fingering, eating you out, a little bit of intercourse action, you've jerked and sucked him off, and you've let him jerk off onto your tits, and it was somehow casual.

after dinner, rafe again, excused you and him to go to the bathroom. he led you to the bathroom, shutting the door as he told you demanding to get on his counter, you back pressing against the mirror. "fuck, y'look s'good tonight." he pushed up the skims dress up to your hips, "'n no underwear?"

"all'that arguin' f'nothin', still my sweet, sweet sluty girl, ain't you?" he slowly rubbed your thighs , "you gotta be quiet though, don't want to embarrass yourself, do you?" he smugly grinned when you nodded, he dipped his fingers into your cunt, and your let out a surprised gasp, squeezing around his fingers.

he kissed you, whispering sweet nothings like you and him didn't just have an argument two weeks ago.

he unbuttoned his pants, using his index to hook the loops were a belt would be to shove them down, following his boxers. he wiped the pre-cum off his tips, using his thumb to slide it into your mouth. "my girl takes everything." he whispered as you attentively sucked on his finger.

you sucked off all the pre-cum off his cock, rafe patting your cheek gently. he spread your legs more, giving him a great view of your pretty, coated pearl, pressing his finger against it, you rolled your head back into the mirror.

"rr-rafe!" you stuttered out as you cried out. he pulled away from your pretty pearl, aligning his cock with your tight hole. he thrusted into your hole, making you cry out for him again.

he squeezed your cheek, holding you in between his thumb and index finger. "c'mon baby give me more than that. not to loud though." he whispered harshly against your neck, gripping your thighs as he kept repeatedly bullying his way into you. and without break, he kept thrusting his cock into you, with a sneaky smirk. "your my girl aintchu?" he kissed your neck, taking a rest inside you.

rafe nipped at your neck as he moved his cock against your gummy hole. feeling you squeeze around him when he bite and sucked on your neck, he kept doing it. even if it felt like you wanted to squeeze his cock off inside of you. "s'tight. jus' how i like it." he whispered against your shoulder, bullying his way back in you as your gummy walls tried to push him out. he aggressively grunted in your ear, feeling the warmness off your breath as you let out a whimper and even softer moans. you gasped when he touched your g-spot, immediately convulsing around him but not yet coming on his cock.

he'd pulled out just before you could finish. he pulled his boxers, following his pants. he buttoned them up, leaving you desperate for release. you found yourself rubbing your clit trying any method of running your clit to come, though you weren't quite being able to finish off yourself. maybe the problem was that you never had to do anything yourself. you came on rafe's cock than he would come on your stomach.

you tugged your black skims dress back down, putting your heels back on as well before making your way out of the bathroom. you sat across from rafe as he had the satisfaction of making you better than before and not helping you like usual. it was great to see you a little grumpy, whilst a little nervous because you decided to be a little slut and go no underwear. but doesn't mean you weren't his little slut.

you were obviously out of it, because sarah had to tap you back into reality as everyone started eating. you cut the steak up before taking a bite of it. "this is really good ms. cameron, you'll have to teach me how to make it." you said cheerfully. rose smiled at you and nodded.

she was really proud of the fact you thought it was that good, but than of course, her cooking for the cameron's was something any mother should do, while some might think that she'd hire someone, she did it herself.

a week later, your friends had told you rafe had said it was casual still and that 'you get off when he hit it' when he never hit your clit not once. sure he left you drying for release but that wasn't the point. and that was near the last straw for you. you were tired.

you wanted a real relationship which was obvious that rafe wasn't ready for, so you found yourself calling him. and again, it wasn't something were he'd answer you, you said to him through the voicemail "i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself." you took a breath, "we're done." you said before slipping your phone in your pocket and walking away from the wreck after just having breakfast with your friend.

TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn

@wi4hfulth1nking @gibson-g1rl

[straynoahide]

lying is wrong bc truth is a positive value, like killing is wrong bc life is a positive value, or subjugating someone is wrong bc autonomy is a positive value. but killing in a war or in self-defense is not ethically equivalent to a murder in cold blood, and restraining someone so they don't seriously hurt themselves is sensible. no human interaction works w 100% sincerity, so yeah, you very often cannot navigate life without a half-truth or a lie here & there.

lying to avoid harm and lying bc it's convenient (emotionally convenient, financially convenient, etc...) are two different things, though.

so... idk, "lying is morally neutral" is not true, it isn't, lying is either a negative value or a lesser evil. a mendacious habit isn't a moral virtue.

i suggest instead to work on affirming boundaries or self-esteem without having to lie.

if you catch yourself making up excuses to avoid saying you don't want to do things, or that you don't want to answer questions, bc you don't want to be seen as boring, aloof, or whatever, maybe there's more you can do to make that situation more balanced for yourself, than having to convince yourself a certain pattern of communication based on dishonesty is 'neutral'. that ppl have to "earn truth" by going through some arbitrary unwritten test bc you judged preemptively.

do you owe everyone honesty? maybe not, but you owe yourself to be self-assured and authentic enough you don't have to project an image all the time of someone you are not. of course when physical safety is a concern that is different, but in every other scenario.

love yourself as you are and not how others want you do be, don't lie to get out every uncomfortable or cringey conversation just for the broader benefit of... acquaintances, workmates, relatives and people whose judgment at the end of the day makes no difference and have no say in your life. and to those who matter- don't lie to them. you take away their ability to care for you, and will resent them and self-sabotage in the process. because saying the truth is not morally neutral- even if it's not for any instrumental goal- it's a meaningful positive by itself to communicate your subjectivity as it exists.

"lying is wrong" what evangelical nonsense is this???

[emmyrosee]

GIRL I GOT ANOTHER IDEA SO EXCUSE ME😝

SO u come back from work super tired from a really hard day and have no energy to take ur makeup off so sukuna offers to do it for u and LET ME TELL YOU this man does not know how to do anything without being aggressive 🙄(typical) so hes drowning the cotton pad in makeup remover and starts aggressively rubbing on ur face purposely just to make u laugh and ur giggling and laughing and slapping his chest telling him to stop cause he’s getting the remover in ur eye and he has no idea what he’s doing THEN ITS ENDS UP BEING ALL KISSY AND STUFF ANYWAY BYE❤️❤️❤️🩷

-Anon🥢

IM GOING TO- *combusts*

———

The way you haphazardly toss your keys on the table, only for them to slip and fall off is exactly the last thing you need.

After today, where one step forward was three back, where nothing went right and nothing was easy, the sight of your keys on the floor has your body tensing in annoyance and shrills of angst down your spine.

You let out a shaky sigh, “I’m home!”

No reply. Your hands ball into fists, “I SAID IM HOME!”

“DAMN I heard you, gimme three seconds!” A gruff voice calls back. You can’t fight the smirk that wants to spread on your tired features, and your hands come up to rub your exhausted eyes. Loud footsteps come down the hall and you drop your hands to blink at him. He snorts, “raccoon looking ass.”

“Oh. Right. I was wearing mascara.”

“It’s fine, not like you’ve got to impress me anyways,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “how was your day?”

“Terrible,” you whine. You angle your head to look up at him, “can’t I just be your pretty girlfriend and you provide for me?”

He snickers, “I offered, you told me that if you didn’t have independence you’d smother me with a pillow. So no. You can’t.” You groan and bury your face in his chest, and he clicks his tongue, “I can take care of you now, though. If you beg prettily enough.”

“You’re going to make your overworked, burnt out, exhausted future wife beg for your attention?”

“No. I’m going to make her beg to be babied.”

You paw at his chest, fingers fisting the collar of his shirt, “please, sukuna, take care of me for a bit. I’m so tired, and you know how much I already hate asking for your help, but I need you. Please, I just want to be loved for a bit.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your forehead, “that’s more like it. C’mon-“ he bends down to hook his massive hands under your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle and instinctively tighten your arms around his shoulders, “let’s get your clown makeup off.”

“‘S not clown makeup,” you pout, playing with the hair of his buzz cut. “Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Dawg.”

“Please?” You mewl, pulling back to look down at him, and he rolls his eyes and nudges the bathroom door open with his knee.

“Fuck, you’re really in a headspace huh?” He says, plopping you on the counter. He braces himself on either side of your legs, and he looks you up and down. “Of course you’re beautiful, baby. Taking a lot of control to not smother you right now. Especially with you all pliant, fuck you’re so pretty. Let me take care of you, yeah? Let me make ya feel better.”

“Okay,” you hum. He leans up to press a kiss to your lips before opening the drawer for a cotton square he knows he’s seen you use before. Then, he reaches just behind you to the small shelf, and grabs your makeup remover. “You know what you’re doing?” You ask.

“Babe, I’ve seen you do this more times than I care to count,” he scoffs. “Trust me. I know far too much about what I’m doing.” He pops off the cap and absolutely drenches the poor cotton in an overwhelming amount of makeup remover. He starts to bring it to your eyes, and you laugh and duck away.

“Baby, that’s too much!”

“More makeup remover, more makeup removed,” he says, and while his logic is wrong, you do giggle at the idea he’s trying to help, and while it’s amusing, you don’t want to lose this domesticity with him either.

So, you close your eyes and laugh more as he applies the wet cotton round to your eyes, pressing hard enough the juices spill over your cheeks. “Sukuna!” You titter.

“You want this done or not?” He asks, smearing the cotton around your eye and cheek to try and swipe off any makeup clinging to you. He’s rough with his wiping, pulling your eyes and making your cheeks hot from friction, and you swat at his hands to try and make some relief. “Okay, now you’re hindering.”

“It burns,” you confess, but you’re still laughing.

You practically feel the air go from goofy to panic, “what burns, what do you mean it burns, why does it burn, it doesn’t burn when you do it right?”

“Chill, you big baby,” you snort. “It’s in my eye because you used all 200% of your strength on my damn socket. Just get me a wet cloth, it’ll be fine.”

You watch him fling open the closet door and grab a small washcloth, dampening it with water before passing it to you. He clicks his tongue, “for reference, this is why I never offer to help you.”

“Because you use your brute strength and power to battle the very-easily-removable-mascara from my eyes?”

“Exactly.”

You smile up at him while he tosses the cotton round in the trash, only to then scowl down at you when he meets your gaze. “The fuck’re you looking at?”

“My boyfriend, who loves me,” you coo, and he rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your lips, which you happily reciprocate.

“He smeared makeup all over your face,” he snickers. “You look rough.”

“That’s okay,” you shrug. “He tried his best.”

“Ew.”

[syluslnd]

hii i have a few requests i hope you dont mind 🥺🫶 feel free to pick to do any if they have not been done yet, they are kinda mostly prompts though 😭

sylus with a streamer/gamer s/o. like those fics where the fans go crazy when sylus shows up in the camera out of nowhere or hearing his voice. and sylus just being supportive about their hobby 😞❤️

sylus reaction when they have a cosplayer s/o, especially when they come home every day and they meet a new character daily or every other day 😭🤣

sylus reaction when s/o gets period stains during their date

sylus with s/o who cant cook but not the those exaggerated types where they burn the whole kitchen, they just didnt learn how to cook, but can do the bare minimum of helping like slicing and stuff and very easy recipes (projecting because i can't cook but am helpful 😭)

when you get your period mid date

The evening had started off perfectly. You and Sylus were sitting across from each other in one of the fanciest restaurants in town, your skin-tight dress fitting you like a glove. The low lights, soft music and clinking of glasses around you added to the elegance of the night. Sylus looked especially handsome tonight, his gaze on you steady and smoldering and his signature teasing smile made your heart flutter.

Everything was going smoothly—that is, until you felt that familiar pang low in your abdomen. You froze, hoping it was just nerves. But then, you felt a sinking dread as the sensation intensified. Trying not to panic, you excused yourself, offering Sylus a nervous smile. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Take your time, sweetie” he replied with a slight smirk. “Don’t go missing me too much.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him a quick wave before heading to the bathroom. But once you were inside, your worst fear was confirmed: a noticeable stain had appeared on the back of your dress. Panic bubbled up in your chest as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, mortified. This wasn’t just any dress, either; it was a pale color, practically a magnet for accidents.

Not knowing what else to do, you took a shaky breath and pulled out your phone, dialing Sylus’s number with trembling fingers. He picked up on the first ring.

“Miss me already?” His voice was laced with humor, but you could practically hear the smile on his face.

“Sylus” you whispered, cringing at how shaky you sounded. “Can you… um… can you come to the bathroom? I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

There was a beat of silence. “Are you hurt, kitten?”

“No! No, not hurt” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Just…my period..I’m stained!”

“Got it. Stay right there, I’m coming.” He hung up and you leaned against the counter, waiting anxiously. But as the seconds ticked by, you began to feel more and more self-conscious. What was taking him so long?

After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door finally opened and there stood Sylus—with a designer shopping bag in his hand. You blinked, trying to process the sight.

“Sylus, what…?” You trailed off, completely baffled.

He smirked, holding up the bag. “What? Did you think I was going to leave my sweetie hanging?” He stepped forward, setting the bag down on the counter. “Got you a new dress. I figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with… you know.” He gestured vaguely, clearly trying to spare you any embarrassment.

Your jaw dropped, both at his thoughtfulness and at the brand-name logo on the bag. “Wait, you actually bought me a new dress? From there?” you asked, pointing out the door, toward the designer store just across the street.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Seemed like the right call. Plus, I got to take my time picking something pretty for you.” His smirk widened. “Had to make sure it’d look perfect on my kitten.”

You let out a small laugh, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude, though your cheeks burned at the thought of him going out of his way for this. “Sylus, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“How about you say you’ll wear it and let me get back to showing you off to the rest of the place?” he teased, handing the bag to you.

You reached for it, heart racing as you peeked inside. The dress was stunning, a rich, deep color that would look amazing on you, with a soft fabric that looked comfortable enough to help you feel more at ease.

“Sylus” you murmured, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Thank you.”

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “Anything for you, sweetie” he replied, his voice softer, his teasing tone gone for just a moment.

You felt your chest warm and you tried to look away, but he gently turned your face back toward him. “Hey, don’t get all shy on me now” he said, his smirk returning. “It’s cute, though. Didn’t know I could get my girl so flustered.”

You laughed, half-embarrassed and half-touched and stepped back toward the stall to change. “I’ll be right back” you promised, disappearing inside and slipping on the new dress. When you stepped out, you felt a little self-conscious, smoothing the fabric over your hips.

Sylus’s gaze met yours, his eyes lighting up with admiration. “Beautiful” he said simply, letting his gaze linger as if he were committing the sight to memory.

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze but a smile crept onto your face as you looked at him. “Think we can go back and pretend like none of this happened?”

He chuckled, offering his arm with a grin. “Of course, kitten. I’ll even let you hold onto the bag—it’s yours, after all.”

You laughed, taking his arm, feeling a surge of confidence as he led you back to your table. Sylus didn’t just make you feel taken care of; he made you feel cherished, like every little detail about you was worth his time.

And as you settled back into your seat, he gave you a wink. “Next time, just call me sooner. Anything to keep my kitten comfortable, you know?”

You smiled, knowing he meant every word. The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and soft whispers and for the first time, you didn’t feel an ounce of insecurity—you were just glad to have Sylus by your side

[harunayuuka2060]

Riddle: I would like to apologize for invading your privacy; no excuse can undo what I've done.

MC: ...

MC: I don't understand-

Riddle: You left your journal in the classroom, and I intended to return it immediately, but my curiosity got the best of me,

Riddle: and I read a few pages... *gets embarrassed*

MC: ...

MC: *chuckles* It's alright, Riddle. I'm not offended at all.

Riddle: A-Are you sure?

MC: *nods*

MC: But I would like to know, did you answer any of the questions on the pages you read?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Yes.

800 Rules of the Queen of Hearts - Completed

Insights:

The rules may seem random, yet they create a strong sense of discipline. It’s no wonder Riddle is so dedicated to following them and upholding order.

Though memorizing all of them would be impossible, I’d love to learn them deeply. That way, if I ever return to my world, I’ll carry a piece of Heartslabyul with me and never forget its essence.

I wonder… which rule should I embrace for myself?

Riddle: It's rule #432 - Always make time for a kind word, for kindness is the true measure of strength.

[nemesyaaa]

aaaaah I really love the idea of uncle!rafe, his interactions with jackie was literally so cute. i need that man please lord. also that was so good to read, i didn't see the end coming. was so invested in it and the kiss scene 🙂‍↕️✋🏿

Rafe visits often, always using Jackie as an excuse to extend his stay. It would end with the little girl deep asleep, while you two chatted the night away. Most times, you had to force him out, leaving you no choice but to do so whenever his teasing gets too overwhleming for your well being.  — where i need to apply......

“You miss your uncle, baby?” His voice softened, barely above a whisper. “It was insufferable being with her, yeah?” — i kinda giggled and KICKING my feets if you care

“And what would you do to make me shut up?” He questioned, adjusting his position until he was manspreading. “I’m quite intrigued on what you might do.”  — i'm listening.

“Yeah?” He questioned, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Care to enlighten me, doll?”  — the doll nickname, need to be sedated.

Before you could further speak, Rafe cut you off with a kiss as he captured your lips in between his. It was the answer to your worries, and while you were shocked, it did wash relief over you. His mouth moved against yours, the gesture subtle, barely even there, though you took notice of it, instantly returning the kiss. — the whole kiss scene was incredible 💅🏿💅🏿‼️

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 kissing you numb ¡

pairing uncle¡rafe cameron x babysitter¡reader

summary babysitting sarah's baby wasn't a problem for you, not when her attractive uncle was around to keep you company, making it extremely hard for you to do your job.

contains fluff, brief sexual content, accidental kiss, making out, sexual tension, confessions (sort of), mutual pining, slightly suggestive towards the end, rafe being a tease, flustered reader, wc; 3.7k

a/n this was sosos fun to write sb had to do it ugh luv uncle rafe 37:$: i hope you guys enjoy hehe!! feel free to request if you wanna!

While managing your busy schedule was diffcult, babysitting was not the worst side-hustle. 

Besides the decent pay, you get to hang out with your friends, take care of baby Jackie, and spend more time with her hot uncle. 

That was not intended, nor was it apart of your plan, however, you were not one to complain. You were sure he knew, he definiltiy caught up on your attraction for him, whether it was the foolish grin that spread across your face, or the way you brighten up when he strikes a conversation. 

Rafe visits often, always using Jackie as an excuse to extend his stay. It would end with the little girl deep asleep, while you two chatted the night away. Most times, you had to force him out, leaving you no choice but to do so whenever his teasing gets too overwhleming for your well being. 

Now, you were well aware of how cocky the latter was, using every chance he gets to tease you over how flustered you grew whenever he, in the slightest bit, flirted with you. He would, out of the blue, drop the most gut-wrenching, bold statement known to earth, indicating that he might’ve been into you. 

However, you didn’t fall for it. You knew Rafe, Sarah would always tell you about him, and how much of a douche-bag (in her words) he was. He’s been with far too many girls for you to trust him, or go further with your feelings for him. 

People change, though, and Rafe might’ve been more desperate than you thought he’d be, implying that maybe, he was being sincere, and it’s not your delusions talking you into things. 

You perked up when you heard a sudden knock on the door, startling you out of your seat. Your attention shifted to Jackie, inserting the pacifier in her mouth before heading towards the entrance. A smile made its way across your lips, well aware of who was behind the door. 

You twisted the doorknob, a breath knocking out of your chest as you caught sight of Rafe, leaning against the wall while he awaited his welcome. A smirk spread across his lips, showcasing the single dimple on his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head to the side as your gaze shifted to Rafe, sighing when you noticed the cocky expression plastered on his face. You moved to the side, giving the boy enough space to squeeze through, to which he contently accepted, letting himself inside. 

“What’s good, m’lady?” He grinned, walking past you. “You miss me?” 

“I haven’t had the time to, Mr. Rafe Cameron.” You sarcastically responded, following behind him. “Weren't you just here yesterday?” 

“Hey, am I not allowed to visit my niece now?” He questioned, a dramatic gasp escaping his lips once he spotted the little girl. “There she is, my darling girl.”

You giggled, watching as Rafe approached Jackie, instantly scooping her in his arms. The little girl smiled at the sight of her uncle, reaching for his face with her little hands. He pecked the tips of her fingers, scrunching his face when she scratched him.

“You miss your uncle, baby?” His voice softened, barely above a whisper. “It was insufferable being with her, yeah?” 

“Hey!” You lightly slapped his arm, chin finding the blade of his shoulder, though you could barely maintain your composure with how tall he was. “She loves me.” 

“Mhm,” he glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a knowing grin. “I’m sure of that.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You dramatically gasped, observing as Rafe placed Jackie back in her crib. 

“Oh, Jackie baby, you’re adorable.” He gently rubbed her chin with his thumb, the gesture earning a wide smile out of the little girl. “Yeah, there you go, you like that?” 

“Mhm, I don’t think she does,” you playfulled responded, making yourself comfortable on the sofa, next to Rafe. “Right, baby? He’s a bit annoying, yeah?” 

“Don’t listen to her, Jackie.” Rafe chuckled, slightly turning to face you. “She’s trying to ruin our bond.” 

“Oh, hush.” You avoided his gaze, feeling goosebumps break out across your arms when your bare skin made contact with his. “Should we kick him out again? He’s been spending a concercing amount of time with us, don’t you think?” 

“Us?” He questioned, teasing hinted in his tone. “Who said I’m here for you? I’m only here for Jackie.” 

“Mhm, yeah sure.” You playfully replied, leaning back in your seat. 

Rafe turned to face you, smirking once he caught the flustered mess he had created out of you. He darted his tongue out to coat his lips with a layer of spit, turning towards Jackie with a scoff. 

“Okay, yeah maybe I’m here for her too.” Rafe started, veiling your presence. “Don’t tell her I said that, though. She’s a brat, she’ll probably never let it go.”  

“Shut up.” You muttered, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face. 

It usually stops here, you never go past that stage, brushing off his flirting as a joke, and shifting the attention back to Jackie. Either that, or Sarah and Johb B, therefore, you weren’t anticipating a response, nor anything that would stir up your emotions. 

“And what would you do to make me shut up?” He questioned, adjusting his position until he was manspreading. “I’m quite intrigued on what you might do.”  

Your heart skipped a beat at the flirtatious statement, the boldness in his voice knocking a breath out of your chest. You felt your mouth go dry as the boy turned in your direction, mind going hazy when your eyes locked with his. 

You could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to your lips, but that might’ve been your vision, because no way. Rafe Cameron? Not in a million years, you knew it was not happening, especially with how complicated things were. 

He was your friend’s brother, what were to happen if you did get together, and it eventually fell apart? That would create awkward tension between you and Sarah, therefore, you didn't want that, especially with how much you cherish the girl. 

However, you chose to take the risk, using the dim darkness seeping through the windows as an excuse for your response, although you know it was risky, tempting, could ruin whatever you had with Rafe, even if it was mere banter. 

“I can think of a few ways, actually.” Your voice dropped barely above a whisper, knee brushing over his leg. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Care to enlighten me, doll?” 

Your stomach stirred at the pet name, lips parting with an exhale. To say you were nervous was underestimating it. Rafe’s gaze burned holes through your skin, as well as the hand that lightly traced the blade of your shoulder, not much of help for your situation. 

You gulped, eyes trailing down to his lips, suddenly feeling desire wash over you, too wrapped up in your own head to think it through. However, before you could get a chance to do anything you could regret, Rafe suddenly turned his attention to Jackie, the action startling a sigh of relief out of you. 

You cleared your throat, attempting to maintain your cool as you admired Rafe while he played with Jackie, entertaining the little girl. She took liking into it, her smile wide on her lips as her fingers fiddled in the air, trying to reach for Rafe’s hand while he teasingly retrieved them from her touch. 

It was so adorable, the sight melting your heart, you weren’t able to contain the smile spreading across your lips. You knew of Rafe’s poor relationship with Sarah in the past, the boy distancing himself when they grew apart. Yet, here Rafe was, taking care of her daughter while she was away. It was endearing, to say the least. 

You leaned over his shoulder when you noticed Jackie dozing off, eyes widening as Rafe turned around, the gesture ceasing the distance between you as your lips collided with Rafe’s in a chaste kiss. Your breath knocked out of your chest, the sensation of his mouth against yours spiraling you over the edge. 

His lips were so soft, you lingered for a moment before letting realization wash over you, eventually returning back to reality. You pulled out with a small pop, attention shifting to Rafe, who remained in his position. 

A smirk leisurely tugged at his lips, eyes never leaving you as a hand came up to cover your mouth, disbelief visible on your face. Rafe’s teeth dug into his bottom lip, amused by how flustered you grew from besides him. 

“I– that was not intentional–” you stammered, face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and the desire of wanting more, even if it was for a mere second. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Rafe.” 

“It’s okay,” he snickered, “Why are you panicking?” 

“Because,” you shot back, a frustrated sigh escaping your throat. “I didn’t mean to do it, and I don’t want to make things uncomfortable between–”

Before you could further speak, Rafe cut you off with a kiss as he captured your lips in between his. It was the answer to your worries, and while you were shocked, it did wash relief over you. His mouth moved against yours, the gesture subtle, barely even there, though you took notice of it, instantly returning the kiss. 

You hummed into the kiss, taking his face in between your fingers as you brought his face even closer, feeling his nose brush over yours. He tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss as he captured your bottom lip in between his teeth. 

Rafe nibbled on your lips, earning a muffled gasp out of you. The boy took the gesture as an opportunity, using it to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You almost yelped as you felt his arms sneaking around your waist, tracing down to your sides as he tugged at the skin, nails digging into your skin. 

At this point, your brain was mush, no words could describe how desperate you were to have his lips on you, growing drunk to the mere taste of him. You knew it, you were well aware of that fact; that when you got to taste him, you’d never be able to get enough. 

And that was exactly your situation in the moment, tangled in Rafe’s hold as he kissed you numb, leaving you with nothing but despair, lust, the desire of wanting him, it consumed you as a whole. 

With enough guidance, Rafe managed to plop you on his lap, slinging both of your thighs over his legs, to make you comfortable around him. You adjusted your position, freezing in your spot when Rafe groaned into your mouth, causing realization to wash over you. 

You blushed, feeling your ass brush over his crotch area, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. You moved away for a moment, staring down at the boy as you now hovered over him, the angle driving you insane. 

He looked so good, his eyes hazed up, barely able to keep them open as he parted his swollen lips with a breath. He squeezed your sides, chasing after your lips, in an attempt to capture them in between his. 

“Sorry.” You whispered, not sounding apologetic at all. 

“Mhm.” Rafe hummed, taking you in between his lips again, this time with more keen. 

He was like a starving man, you have never seen him like this before. Sure, he was a flirt, he had his way around with women, but hell, had you known he was such a good kisser, you would’ve made the discovery sooner. 

His hand found the blade of your shoulder, trailing up the exposed flesh, until it reached the strap of your bra. He toyed with the material, dipping his fingers underneath, using the digits to slide it down your arm. 

You moaned at the action, unable to suppress it any longer with the boy’s hand roaming around your body, exploring every curve he could lay his touch on. You couldn’t believe, nor did you want it to end, you wanted it to last an eternity, even if it meant getting your heart broken. 

Because, how could you resist him? How could you when he’s there, existing and looking so attractive while doing it?

Your face heated, feeling blush crawl past your neck, right to your face as you felt something harden beneath you. You pulled away for a second, lips ghosting over his, as your forehead collided, the sensation of his hot breath fanning over your flesh sent tingles through your body. 

Rafe littered open-mouthed kisses to your lips, the sound of your mouth colliding with a pop the only thing heard over the silence seeping through the air. His hands squeeze around your hips, you were sure his hold bruised your sides. 

And that thought, it drove you crazy, knowing he was marking his territory, not afraid to show people that something went down between you, though, you knew he was against it. Come on, this was the Rafe Cameron, it should be obvious this was a mere fling, but for now, you chose to ignore it, look past that and enjoy the pleasure he’s spiraling through your body. 

He littered kisses down your jaw, trailing all the way to your throat, until he was nuzzled in the crook of your neck. You gasped, accidentally grinding down when Rafe’s teeth grazed over your flesh, followed with a nibble afterwards. 

Your hands found his hair, fingernails brushing his buzzed hair, the sensation causing the boy to groan. You almost chuckled at his reaction, but chose to hold it down, knowing how whiny Rafe gets whenever you tease him. 

“Fuck, baby.” He muffled a whimper out, retrieving his head from the crook of your neck. “You’re so pretty, jus’ wanna cherish you forever.”

You came to a halt, the hushed words catching you off guard. You fluttered your eyes down at him, parting your lips to speak, merely to be interrupted by the kiss that followed. You almost yelped, quickly relaxing into it after a moment. 

It was a mere peck, with the boy lingering for a moment to taste you on his lips, merely to indicate that he wanted this, just as much as you did. You felt him smile against your lips, the gesture causing you to grow embarrassed. 

Your eyes widened, when you suddenly heard Jackie whine, implying that the little girl had woken up. You pressed your hands to Rafe’s chest, applying enough pressure to push the latter away as he chased after your lips. 

Your fingers came into view, hovering them over his lips to stop him from further moving. Your attention shifted to Jackie, causing Rafe to follow your gaze as you caught sight of the little girl shuffling around in her crib, showcasing that something was making her uncomfortable. 

Right, you were babysitting. 

You instantly shuffled off Rafe’s lap, making your way toward the little girl, whose eyes shifted to you once you approached her. Rafe on the other hand, cleared his throat, attempting (and failing) to get a hold of himself. He fixed his position, gaze burning through you as you tried to find Jackie's source of discomfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Are you hungry? You want me to feed you?”

“Listen,” Rafe started, immediately interrupted by you perking up to grab Jackie’s bottle from beside him. 

“Let me feed Jackie first.” You replied before he could further talk, flashing him a quick smile before heading towards the kitchen. 

What the fuck was that? Did you just kiss Rafe cameron? With his niece around, at that? 

You were supposed to be taking care of her, yet, there you were, making out with her attractive uncle while she was asleep. Your face flushed with embarrassment, not capable of facing Rafe, hoping he’d disappear while you make Jackie’s bottle.

You regret it, because you know he will. He’ll look past it, act like nothing happened, and pretend it was all for show, just like he usually does, with every other girl. How were you any different? And why would he be genuine?

It never made sense, no matter how much he fed into your delusions, you chose to stay sane about it, considering reality before you fell head over heels. You’ve had this attraction towards him ever since you befriended Sarah, and it continued off from there, growing within every moment you spent with the boy.

In your head, this was definitely unrequited, nothing more than a mistake that you both will regret for obvious reasons, therefore, when you headed back, you wwe definitely not expecting to see Rafe, who busied himself with Jackie, distracting her until you were back. 

Your breath hitched at the sight, heart melting into pieces as you further approached the pair, earning Rafe’s attention as he glanced over his shoulder. He sat upright, giving you enough space to come through and give Jackie her bottle. 

“There you go, sweetheart.” He hummed, staring at Jackie as she sipped on her bottle. “You're hungry, huh? Is that why you interrupted us?” 

“Rafe!” You almost broke your neck with how swiftly you turned your head in the boy’s direction, the remark catching you off guard. 

“What?” He started, avoiding your gaze for a moment before trailing his eyes back to you. “Were we not having a moment?” 

“I– well…” You trailed off, stammering over your words. 

“What?” He questioned, “You regret it?”

“Do you?” You shot back, anxiousness visible through your tone. 

“Why would I kiss you if I was going to regret it?” He snorted, staring at you with disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t jus’ kiss anyone.” 

“Well,” you cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes with suspicion. “That’s not…” 

“Okay, shut up.” He rolled his eyes, giggling at your response. “That was in the past, I’m a changed man.” 

“Changed man, huh?” You chuckled along, unable to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. 

“Okay, enough.” He clicked his teeth, lightly shoving your shoulder. 

“What?!” You defensively shot back, “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Right,” he nodded his head, inching closer towards you. “Do you really not get it?” 

“Hmm?” You hummed, suddenly growing flustered by how close he has gotten. 

Instead of answering, Rafe leaned in for another kiss, one soft enough, it spoke volumes on his behalf. It was unlike the first one you shared, this one was tender, so full of endearment, it overwhelmed you whole. 

He withdrew from the touch, a sheepish smile instantly spreading across his lips. His breath fanned over your face, now mere inches away from you, the gesture invading your personal space. 

“Does this answer your question?’ He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. 

“What are you doing?” You stumbled over your words, lightly shoving the boy, who admired you with amusement. “You should leave, Jackie keeps wakin’ up ‘cause you’re distracting her.”

“Hey, how is it my fault?” Rafe muttered, lips jutting into a pout. “Not my fault her babysitter is beautiful, I can’t keep my hands to myself when she’s around.” 

“Rafe.” You whisper-yelled, growing flustered by the statement. 

It was surreal, Rafe, liking you? Perhaps, more than you did? You couldn’t believe it. 

“What?!” He chuckled, pecking you once more before moving away. “She’s deep asleep, look at her.”

“Still,” you huffed, nervously biting your lip. “It’s not appropriate.”

“She’s barely six months, darling, relax.” He exclaimed, sneaking a hand over to your waist, letting it settle around your hip. “I���m sure she doesn’t mind setting us up, besides, we’re not doing anythin’ weird.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, scoffing at the remark. “Shoving your tongue down my throat is not weird at all?” 

“It’s human nature.” He reasoned, nodding his head. 

You slapped his shoulder, earning a hiss in return as he faked a pained expression. You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips, too endeared by how cute he was acting. 

Maybe going with the flow is not so bad, after all. 

“You should head out, it’s getting late.” You mumbled, using the darkness as an excuse to get rid of him.

You don’t think you’ll be able to hold back if he’s around, especially not now, with how tempting he was being. 

“There you go,” he huffed, shooting up from his seat. “Kickin’ me out again.”

You giggled at his response, following behind as he made his way towards the door. He unlocked the doorknob, turning to face you before he could exit. 

“I’ll leave then, let me know if you need anything in particular.” He muttered, eyes flickering to your lips. “Also, lock the door, and wait until Sarah and John be get back, don’t open it unless you know who it is, okay?” 

“Relax, you’re acting as if I’m about to get kidnapped.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the door as your gaze shifted up to meet Rafe’s, who was now towering over you. “Besides, Sarah and John B aren't coming back tonight, I’m babysitting overnight.”

“Oh?” Rafe stood upright, a smirk replacing his worried expression from earlier. “I wasn’t aware of that.” 

“Well, now you are.” You slightly shoved his torso, feeling his broad chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Leave, I know you’ll jus’ keep delaying your stay until it’s too late.”

“Maybe I could stay a bit longer,” He started, voice dropping into a whisper as he took a step forward, causing you to take one back. “You know, keep you company while they’re away.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You beamed, hand finding his chest once again as you fisted his shirt with your fingers, the gesture earning a sly grin out of the latter. 

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He pressed you against the wall, stealing an open-mouthed kiss from your lips. “Besides, I get to protect you, and we could take turns looking out for Jackie.” 

“You know that’s not why you’re staying.” You muttered, barely able to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. 

“Mhm, you’re right.” Hr replied. 

And with that, the boy ceased the distance as he collided your lips in a chaste kiss, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he carried you to the guest bedroom. 

Therefore, you didn’t mind babysitting, especially when Rafe Cameron was keeping you company. 

[shellxrls]

— r. cameron / reader

warnings: DUBCON — rafe roofies and then rapes reader / unprotected PinV / misogyny / mention of drugs (cocaine & roofies) / mention of virginity / inspiration taken from maddy & nate (euphoria)

synopsis: rafe cameron x fem!reader… sometimes rafe needs to slip a girl a little something at a party to get some, and where’s the shame in that if he knows they want him anyway, they’re just too prudish to admit it.

After you’ve successfully been dosed, he makes you sit on his lap for lack of space on the couch so he can rock you on his knee until you’re tired, delirious, and horny enough to be lifted upstairs, legs dangling against his broad back while you hiccup and giggle next to your upside-down view of his chest.

His nose is numb from the coke and his brain heady, one could argue almost as inebriated as you. But the lines make him oversaturated, not cock-dumb like what he slipped you — eager hands already pawing at his zipper and coming to a fumbled close around the metal just before you’re tossed onto a bed, spread aloof like the crumpled sheets.

“You’re sooo nice to me Rafe.. when all the other guys were sayin’i shoulda gone home,” you end with a belligerent nod of your head, slurring throughout and biting your lip in sexless embarrassment, chewing the skin raw enough to reflect your torn consciousness instead.

Rafe simply smirks, chin protruding outwards while his eyes flit between your thighs peeking through your overridden dress and your tits falling out of the frilly décolletage.

“You a virgin?”

“Mhm” you lie, despite the reeling dizziness occupying your headspace. Besides, nobody likes a whore — especially not rafe, uninterested in ‘stretched out pussy’ as you vaguely recall from his earlier conversation crowded around friends.

He approaches closer now, knocking your trembling knees apart with one of his beefy thighs, bulge forward and creasing in his pants as your dialogue gets him hard already, imposing his physicality in all its glory: “What like— you’ve never even been fingered before?”

You shake your head, tousling curls before staring back up at him, “Only my own.”

To that he chuckles, the noise grating and stunted when he uses it as an excuse to adjust himself in his pants, drawing his chest down further until he’s now hovering above you.

“Uh y’know,” he tongues at his cheek, “I could take care of that for you, practically all spread open an’ready huh?”

Like it wasn’t his plan to get you dumb and stuffed by the end of the night, even if it meant bringing out his inner brute, he was taller, faster, stronger — he could do it if he really wanted, but he made it easy for you instead. Could feel the roofie worming its way into your consciousness, jamming rationality and flooding you with hedonistic desire that would trigger your sex endorphins and make it so that you would want this, that he could brag about it without you opening your bitch mouth the next day and claiming ‘rape’; an ugly word anyways, coming out harsh in a spit, nothing like what rafe was doing to you, especially not with the way you were looking at him.

Your mouth opens, then closes, seemingly flailing on confirmation when really your jaw is getting slack and numb, and so you feel encouraged to nod instead, the movement making your thoughts go all bubbly, refracting Rafe’s glinting eyes at your ‘consent’.

He wastes no time with prep, shoving your dress up so it’s tucked over your tits, basal temperature remaining warm and stuffy despite the exposure to cool air. A good indicator though, means rafe can tell it’s working, and just how long he has before you might start struggling.

When he pulls himself out of his shorts it’s surprising, of course, everything about him is pretty, one would expect a tangible reflection of the cruelty on his features but instead, his dick looks cutesy, if not for the intimidating size.

Spit trickles harshly down his palm when he wraps a hand around himself, tugging quickly and using both his legs to split you around his midriff, leaking and achy despite the inattention you’ve received.

“You want this dick so fuckin’ bad huh,” he laughs at the puddle of arousal leaking out underneath you, considers swiping a finger into it to stick into your mouth but he doubts you’d be able to breathe right now if he interfered with the half catatonic features on your face, and it’s not like he’s out for that type of violence anyways (or at least not right now).

When he pushes himself inside you’re silent, pupils retreating in favour of a squeal — ironically a very Rafe-esque trait — while Rafe bites down into his cheek and rolls his palm over your chest to ease the pressure of the fit.

“Thought the roofie woulda loosened you up a bit..” mumbled out while his stomach clenches, now bracing his entire heavy arm across your abdomen and pinching skin when you involuntarily quiver at the weight, “You can take it c’mon.”

He thrusts hard and uncoordinated, fucking like he knows he’s hot, or at least how many more pills he has left in his stash. Knocking against your insides and entirely focused on the way his dick feels, knowing how easily he could move onto another victim, and just how much he wants to enjoy you in particular before it’s over.

Sweat clings to both your bodies, the slick getting louder when each thrust manages to pound a squelch out of you, spattering against the sheets or catching on Rafe’s balls to stick the both of you together with messy tendrils.

You’re pliant, let him move your legs so your ankles entwine behind his back, heavy hand locking them together and giving you both little breathing room; just enough for him to spill obscenities straight into your emotionless face with hot, sticky breath — he laughs, manically and seemingly at his own joke, before deciding to share it with you, “just don’t go running ‘bout me ‘assaulting’ you right. You wanted this, not my fault my cock’s so good the slut has to go dumb hmm?” mocking you with a teasing lilt and a raised brow.

You pat at his swollen chest, it’s all you can manage to do, urgent to get him off you, give you a little space atleast. He only shoves himself in further, lips puckering to sloppily catch yours, saliva straying down your chin and jaw instead.

Your outright discomfort seems to get him going even more, thrusts increasing in increment despite becoming more careless, tip catching your clit when he slips out and hurries to stuff it back in.

When his face pinches up, brows tensed and nose furrowed, you can tell he’s going to cum, the friction between your bodies almost unbearable with the heat that suddenly envelops him.

A slew of curses are hissed out, casual vulgarity being one of Rafe’s favourite expressions of self, and then he’s pulling out and wrapping a fist around himself to paint your tummy white. Ropes shooting watery on your tummy and painting him a proud picture.

He shakes himself off on you a final time before tucking his wet dick back into his briefs, cleaning himself up entirely unbothered by the dissected mess of you laying drugged and fucked out on the bed.

“My head feels funny.”

“Yeah, that’s cause I fucked it out of whack.” He says it serious but you can imagine his upturned lips at his own sick sense of humour.

“Where are you going?” you sit up groggy, chest tight.

“Uhh, back downstairs, got some more yayo I needa lay off— you can stay here or.. wherever, doesn’t matter.”

He has the decency to shut the door fully when he leaves, yet you’re still alone and forced to lay in the waste of one of Rafe Cameron’s nights out.

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 16

content warning: angst, recreational drug use, mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI (not spoiling the positions this time, so you’ll just have to read and see)

word count: 8.2k (thank ya once again @slushycoookie 😚)

If you really love Xina as a character, then don't read this. Nothing crazy happens, it's just so far removed from her original character action-wise that you’ll definitely get angry. That's all. 🥸👍🏾

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GymRat!Miguel who should have taken the edible.

He held his head down, everything over the past years starting to click.

The touches, the stares, the treatment. Xina wasn’t just close to him because they were friends.

She was in love with him and he was too dumb to see it, too naïve to even think it was a possibility.

He takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Xina speeds out. “Or maybe you can just let it sit with you.”

“Ok.”

Xina widens her eyes, “O-ok? What do you mean ok? Ok as in you…you like me back?”

“Ok as in I hear you. I understand.”

Xina nods, hand holding her elbow.

“And I’m sorry that so much happened to you. I wish you would have reached out. It sounds traumatizing and no one should have to go through that on their own.”

Xina waits, heart beating out of her chest.

“But?”

“But, it doesn’t excuse anything you’ve done to me. Not a single fucking thing.”

She opens her mouth, eyes burning and eyebrow pinched, “I-“

“-need to let me talk first,” Miguel finishes. “You know how much you mean to me, so you have to understand that what you did was so low, Xina. It hurt, genuinely.”

“I know.”

“You know and yet you continued. It’s funny because after you were being weird to my girlfriend the first time you met her, I still defended you. That’s how much I had faith in our friendship.”

Xina blinks rapidly, pulling her hair back.

“Now, I feel even more stupid because this,” Miguel pushes his hand in and out between himself and Xina, “looks exactly how she thought it was. But that’s what you wanted, right? You wanted her to feel like you were someone to look out for.”

Her lip wobbles, “For just a second, I was relieved. I was so relieved that someone finally fucking beat me to you. But then I saw how you looked at her and I, I felt something boil over.”

Miguel wanted to laugh in disbelief.

“Xina, that doesn’t make it ok for you to go in my phone, plot and scheme, then lie like you didn’t. When has that ever been right?”

“Miguel, I know that so please-“

“You don’t love me.”

Xina falters, a tear falling down her face. A light from a car outside brightens the room for just a second, and she sees Miguel give an unfamiliar look of disdain.

“Yes, I do. I do love you. How could you say that I don’t?”

“Because you really don’t,” Miguel pushed his hair off of his face, only for it to fall back in place. “Love isn’t seeing me happy and trying your best to ruin it. Love is not control. If this is what you do to me, I would hate to see what you’re willing to do to someone who wants to be yours.”

She squats, hands wiping away the sorrow on her face.

In the past, Miguel would have been at her side arms open for comfort, heart hurting to see her like this. Right now, he just wants to plead at your waist for forgiveness.

“I don’t really want to look at you right now. I think you should go.”

He starts to get up, tired.

“M-Miguel? I, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. About a lot of shit I need to fix. You have more than just me to own up to and whenever you’re ready to do that, let me know. Right now though? You can see your way out.”

“Miguel, just,” she grabs his arm. “If I- Do you-“ her quiet sobs rack through her body. “I don’t want to lose you. Y-you don’t have to like me back.”

He turns and grabs her arms softly, eyes going back and forth between hers.

“Go home, Xina.”

GymRat!Miguel who opens the door to a flustered Gabriel and a nonchalant Tempest sitting on the floor.

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Tempest cuts Gabriel off. She looks past Miguel to a mourning Xina. “C’mon, girl, I’ll walk you to the door.”

Miguel steps aside as Xina shuffles over. He does his best to ignore the last tug she gives his hoodie before she leaves.

GymRat!Miguel who crosses his arms as he looks at Gabriel.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to put a smile upon my face,” Gabriel grins. “It’s like watching your dreams come into fruition. I feel like I have enough adrenaline to run to New York and back, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. This isn’t funny, Gabri.”

“Uh,” Gabriel peers left and right. “It’s a little funny. To me.”

Miguel reaches into his pocket and threw the gummy into his mouth. The taste was interesting, to say the least.

“This is a good thing,” Gabriel tries again. “It’s one step closer to what you wanted, right?”

Miguel thought about you from last week.

He didn’t want you to look at him like that again.

“It is. I just don’t know how I let it get this far.”

Gabriel squeezes his shoulder with a pout.

“Because you’re an idiot, to be frank.”

The squawk that Gabriel lets out when Miguel hits him on the back echoes through the hallway.

GymRat!Miguel who goes back to his room to see a knocked out Lyla and Winston with a plate piled high with wings and yams.

“Yo,” he whispers, but his voice is still unbearably loud. “I think she’s trying to steal my fucking food.”

Miguel looked to Lyla who was folded over a beanbag, neck bent awkwardly. Her mouth was open and a little wet, but she was snoring up a storm.

“No, she’s not,” Miguel laughs. His friend's eyes are blown wide, horrified, like he’s in the middle of a haunted house.

Winston observes Lyla before turning back to Miguel, slow like he was made of wires and metal, “Don’t say shit to me when you’re next.”

GymRat!Miguel who shouldn’t have turned on your playlist as his limbs got heavier.

He was going to try and write something down in his journal, thoughts from before too much for his head.

It started with what just happened down the hallway. Was he right or wrong for what he said and what he did? Should he have done more?

Was it enough for you to see the truth?

You. You and everything you brought him. Your being, your emotions, you core, your love.

Now, he’s staring at the page full of your name alone scrawled across it with slow blinking eyes.

It feels like your hands are all over him and you’re whispering in his ears. You’re going through his hair from his scalp to his neck. Your tongue is hot on his skin, in his mouth. You taste like cinnamon and whipped cream. You’re pressing your chest against his and your heartbeats are becoming one.

His heartbeat.

Your heartbeat.

It’s sinking him. His heart is on the marked paper before him. It’s in red and graphite, smudged and darkened.

He’s falling. The clothes on him are rubbing against his bones. The chair under him is slipping from his grasp but he thinks you’ll catch him.

GymRat!Miguel who gasps for air as his back hits the cold metal of his desk chair.

Winston’s cackle refocuses his train of thought and he breathes in deep as he tries not to let you drown his thoughts again.

GymRat!Miguel who joins Winston on the floor to finish off the variety bag of takis.

Lyla shifts to a better position and Winston clutches his purple bag for dear life. Miguel laughs until he cries.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up on Gabriel’s fluffy rug, rubbing his hands over the fur like it’s a cat. Winston is bopping his head in the corner, music making him worry less about whether or not he’s being watched.

“Why is he so soft? What did you put on him?” Miguel asks.

Gabriel snickers as he watches him, “My feet.”

Miguel makes a face like a disgruntled cat.

“That’s fucking weird. Why would you ever do that? Is that why he smells lie that?”

“No, that’s your breath.”

Miguel gasps and covers his mouth, blowing straight through his fingers. He waits for a minute, then sniffs the air.

“You’re such a liar. It smells like apples. You need to be nicer to your rug, Gabri.”

A snap from above makes Miguel pose at the very last second. He thinks he’s posing at least. His smile is big but his eyes are closing every time the camera clicks and his peace sign is hidden somewhere in the fuzz of the rug.

“Say ‘party gal!’” Gabriel sang.

“I’m not at a party, nor am I a girl, so…no?” Miguel says with squinted eyes. “Why are you taking pictures of me?”

“Because you’re just so adorable that I have to share with your girlfriend.”

Miguel stops rubbing the rug and sits up, “Is she here? Where is she?”

Gabriel pushes him away with his foot.

“Chill out, Mig. I’m just sending her a video.”

“But,” Miguel stiffens. “It’s too dark in here. How is she supposed to see me?”

Gabriel looks at the several ambient lights his room is sporting then back to Miguel, “She can see it.”

“Was my shirt off in it? She likes it when my shirt is off.”

“I’m not filming your striptease, you hornball.”

“But Gabri-“

“No!”

GymRat!Miguel who snowballs his way through telling Gabriel his plans for when he visits New York for the next twenty minutes.

“And then,” he pauses and giggles like he’s holding the world’s greatest secret. “We go to the bodega. Ham and cheese. Orange drink. You know the one.”

Gabriel joins in his endless bubble of laughter, “Who taught you that?”

Miguel spaces out his giggles just enough to let your name fall through.

“Do you think she still loves me, Gabri? Because sometimes I get scared that she doesn’t.”

His brother sighed, head upside down as it hung off of his bed, “Yeah, I think so. It’s your first big fight, but what is love if not war?”

There’s a silence in the room.

Winston is giving a silent performance in the corner of the room now, his audience being Gabriel’s closet door of scarves and belts.

“War is what keeps humans apart,” Miguel mumbles.

“Uh oh,” Gabriel turns to look at him. “Don’t start this.”

“Statistically speaking, all first marriages have a 50% chance of surviving.”

“You just made that up.”

“No,” Miguel closes his eyes, hoping that would stop his million and one thoughts. “She could find another guy and last longer with him. It’s science. Proven.”

“You’re not even married.”

Miguel opens one eye and checks his empty left hand, “Holy shit you’re right.”

He starts to pat down his clothes, cotton pulling against his fingers.

“Where did it go? I just had it.”

Gabriel thought for a second.

“The Funyuns you just ate?”

Miguel starts to flip things over, papers and chip bags going everywhere.

He finds the bright yellow bag, opening it up and finding nothing. He turns it over and shakes it much to Gabriel’s annoyance who snatches it from his hands.

Miguel is about to cry until Gabriel throws another bag into his hands.

“Let’s switch topics,” Gabriel grumbles. “I feel like I’m watching a big ass baby.”

Miguel opens the bag and starts crunching.

“I think stars is such a good theme for the nursery. And penguins.”

“I’m turning on Spongebob.”

GymRat!Miguel who is out of his mind watching Squidward run around a blank screen.

The colors were there and now they’re not.

It does a number on him.

GymRat!Miguel who sits staring at Gabriel’s door. Watching. Waiting.

He said that you were coming around eventually.

It was sure taking you a long time to open the door.

GymRat!Miguel who is disappointed when Tempest and her pink-tipped locs bang the door open instead of you.

His slow turn and look of disappointment towards Gabriel is comical.

GymRat!Miguel who is guided back to his room by a more relaxed Tempest who asks Gabriel to distract Conchata.

“Did she say something?” Gabriel asks.

“No, but we need to act normal. She asked me some shit about some seasoning I used and I think dozed off mid-explanation. Can’t remember.”

GymRat!Miguel who finds a picture of you under his pillow right before he goes to sleep.

It’s a part of the polaroids you gave him last Christmas with your tank and panties.

He presses his lips against the film, eyes closing as he groans against it. The action repeats, his mind putting him in front of you.

A pain hits his hip, ache in his bones matching his heartbeat.

He looks down to a gray, metal hand covering him and screams.

Two of his friends jerk up from across the room while Winston throws a pillow at him.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to sleep.”

Tempest squints as she removes her eye mask, “Why did you throw your arm at him?”

“He was making weird sounds,” Winston replies as if the answer was obvious.

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to Tempest shaking him for dear life.

His eyelids are heavy and the sun peaking through the windows are bright.

His arm covers his eyes as he tries to block it, feelings of his muscles slowly coming back to him.

“C’mon, buddy. You feeling ok?”

Miguel only yawns and nods into the pillow.

“Need to pee? Feeling sick? I got some water right here.”

Miguel slowly sits up with his eyes closed, hair sticking up every which way. Tempest opens his hand and places a glass of water there, helping him guide it to his lips. One taste of the liquid and he’s gulping it down like he’s never drank before.

“What time is it?” he asks, throat dry.

“Noon,” Tempest takes the glass away. “You guys were sleeping like babies. Very cute.”

Memories of last night slowly come back.

He’s pretty sure he texted you a string of random things, but he doesn’t even know if it went through.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Come to the kitchen and eat some food.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes his friends promise to text him when they make it home.

Sure, they’ll probably be on the call tonight playing some game or watching obscure compilations, but he was nothing if not a worrier.

“And don’t forget to-“

“We know, dad,” they say in unison.

GymRat!Miguel who spends Thanksgiving near his grandma.

His mom is giving him sideways looks all day and he feels that something is coming.

GymRat!Miguel who watches his brother place his cousins in formation for a video for the nth time.

“It’s swing, back a-round, grab your pants, thumb up with ‘I’m cool’. Feet out and in at the same time then CIRCLE your arms really high. What is so hard to understand about that guys?”

He runs to his phone on the tripod.

“From the top!”

GymRat!Miguel who hides with his grandma in her bedroom as his mom starts to bark orders. She was doing a lot for someone who didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving.

The two of them are watching some random sitcom under a giant quilt sharing coconut cookies that she snuck from the kitchen.

“¿Abuela?”

“¿Si nieto?”

“¿Alguna vez has experimentado un desamor?”

His grandmother looks up, chewing as she thought.

“Yes, but only for a short while. I didn’t really have the time to sit with my feelings.”

“But, what if you did? Does it feel as terrible as it sounds?”

“Sometimes. But we’re human. If you’ve put in effort to love, that means you can put effort into yourself to heal and grow.”

Her arms wrap around him and squeeze, kissing his cheek like he was still the chunky baby she met decades ago.

“Now, relax and watch these two teachers avoid love. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on his grandma, cheek pressed against her chest, when Gabriel comes in to plop on the bed.

“Move over,” he whines to Miguel as he tries to push him away to be in the middle.

“I don’t wanna sit next to you. You’re disturbing my peace.”

“And you’re hogging Abuela.”

“Go to her other side!”

“But this side is already warm!”

“My daughter has raised two giant babies,” their grandmother laughs as she moves the blanket to let Gabriel into her other side. “What am I going to do with you two?”

GymRat!Miguel who was nearly asleep when George comes to get them to eat.

It’s deep in the evening and the crickets are loud outside of the window.

He and Gabriel pout, the darkness of the room and the smell of their grandmother’s perfume making them lethargic.

“Your cousins are going to eat up all of the empanadas if you don’t hurry up.”

Miguel perks up and stumbles out of the bed, foggy mind registering his willingness to stuff his face with doughy goodness.

“Like a moth to a flame,” Gabriel says as he helps his grandmother up.

GymRat!Miguel who is on his third or fourth plate, not that he’s really counting, when his mom does what she always does every holiday: annoy him.

“Mijo, have you checked on Xina today? I saw Tempest walk her out the other day. Was she doing alright?”

Miguel glances around the table, mouth full of turkey as he sees his family perk up.

“No, I haven’t,” he answers slowly. “I’ll see her next week. Probably.”

Conchata brings a cup to her mouth while giving him a miffed look.

“And you’re not worried about her? What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me,” Miguel replies calmly. His relatives are staring at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Did you two fight?” one of his aunts asks.

Miguel didn’t understand how this was anyone else’s business, but from the looks of it, it seems that his mother has already told it.

“Can I just finish my food, please?”

His mother thumps her cup against the table with more force than necessary.

“You’re never going to find a suitable woman if you keep acting like this. I know you hurt her somehow and you need to fix it.”

“Ma,” Gabriel interrupts with a hushed tone. “Right here? At the table? Seriously?”

She ignores him and stares at Miguel, as it’s supposed to urge him to obey her. His appetite is long gone.

“I have a suitable woman-“

“Mijo, no. You have stars in your eyes. You’re young, so I know you can’t see it yet, but it’s almost time for you to start planning properly for the future. I can only let your playing go on for so much longer.”

Miguel stares at her, eyes not blinking once. Gabriel anxiously looks back and forth between them.

“Who is up for Abuela’s famous cake? Mm mm mm, I know I am!” he tries, only getting a small portion of the table to move.

Miguel gets up to follow them, plate in his hand heavy and half-eaten.

They’re back at square one.

He’s not sure how many more times he can restart.

GymRat!Miguel who texts you before he knocks out.

He stares at the blinking line, thinking of all that he wants to say, but not really knowing how to put it.

“Happy Thanksgiving mi luz”

“I miss you more than ever today”

“I miss you every day”

He stops himself and turns his phone off.

GymRat!Miguel who does a light jog Friday morning.

He’s been having far too many days of wallowing and feasting.

The November air wakes him up completely.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks he still has THC in his bloodstream when your name pops up on his screen as he’s checking his miles.

He opens it too fast, heart racing faster than what any exercise could do to him.

It’s a link to your calendar, blocks of blues and pinks covering the screen. He sees that your last final is next Thursday, and his plan is already in motion.

He hearts your text and stops himself from spamming you with emojis and pictures.

He’s ready to see you.

GymRat!Miguel who has never been more happy for his coding professor being a recluse and making their final submission online.

He knew for a fact Xina was definitely still processing everything. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to see her unless she was ready to apologize to you.

He tried not to stew on it, his mom’s insinuation putting a bad taste in his mouth.

He had finals to focus on and a girlfriend to win back so he pushed thoughts of crumbling friendship to the back of his mind.

GymRat!Miguel who sits in the hallway of the art building. It was becoming a familiar sight for someone who couldn’t draw a stick figure to save his life.

He waits for the studio door to open, leg bouncing involuntarily. He wasn’t sure when it would end, so he got there about thirty minutes after it started.

Maybe that was a bad idea, simply because he feels like he’s about to sweat out of the stupid button down and sweater he chose to wear. The thick knitting was starting to suffocate him.

Pulling at the chain around his neck, he wonders if he can appeal to you like he did around this time last year.

The door opens in the middle of his tenth time rehearsing what he was going to say. A few students walk out, arms full of canvases as they chat about whatever.

Miguel stands, big bouquet in his hands and heartbeat in his ear. The students notice him and shuffle out of his way as he heads towards the studio entrance.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you talking with a classmate.

You’re both bent over some, engrossed in conversation.

Miguel sees you laugh before you stand up straight. The guy next to you looks familiar.

He rises too, and his build and height become all of the focus. His hand lands on the middle on your back and slowly begins to fall down.

Miguel is building the formation of your name at the back of his tongue, anger climbing before he can really think about it.

You grab the guy’s arm and yank it off, a smack on his shoulder to follow.

Miguel stops himself with an ugly sound, alerting you both to turn and look at him.

GymRat!Miguel who hides the bouquet behind his back, not wanting you to see it yet. Not when your friend was making him shoot daggers with his eyes.

You walk over to him eyes curious, and Miguel thinks that there was no way in this lifetime, no way in this timeline, that you weren’t made for him.

“Hi,” Miguel starts.

“Hi,” you repeat back.

“We’re matching.”

Miguel couldn’t help but to sound giddy about it. He was more than ecstatic about it. You both looked like a couple, therefore you are a couple.

You purse your lips and nod, “That we are. Did you spy on me?”

Miguel copies you and shakes his head.

“You look different.”

“Ah. I uh, I ate good.”

You pat his stomach, fingers tentative and soft, “I see.”

Miguel wants to say something back but your eyes are scanning him with a small light similar to your anniversary night.

He breathes in and puffs his chest up a bit, like a bird trying to show off his pretty feathers to win over his lady. The corners of your lips twitch, holding back your smile.

That alone brightens Miguel up.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to deflate when your classmate slash friend slash him-imposter makes his way into an A and B conversation.

“I haven’t seen you around campus before,” he puts his right hand out, “I’m Royce.”

Miguel’s eyes flit to you and you look up to the ceiling avoiding his look with your hands behind your back. He brings his left hand out, still poorly hiding his gift for you, twisting his wrist to shake Royce’s hand.

“Miguel.”

“Strong grip you’ve got there, Miguel,” Royce smiled, lip piercing shining. The chains attached to his pants clinked together as be let go.

“Just happy to meet new people.”

Royce pulls the sleeves of his sweater up and grins, like he knew something Miguel didn’t. The fullness of his tattoos contrasted his skin.

“Likewise. What else do you have there?” he tilts his head.

You push him in his side, Royce’s laugh echoing of the studio ceiling, “Go away. You’re so irritating.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. I’m guessing this means our late night session is rain checked?” he asks as your eyebrows raise.

He barely dodges as you pick up a ruler and swing at him, laughing as your professor tiredly asks you both to chill out.

Royce calms down, grabs his things, and hugs you goodbye, black hair brushing against your head.

“See you later. Bye, Miguel,” he sings, hand waving.

Miguel makes a line with his lips as he watches him leave.

“Interesting guy.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty fun,” you say, watching Miguel’s lips. “You ok?”

His face shifted, “I should be asking you that after everything.”

“Hm,” your eyes casted down. “Well, you’re here, so I think that counts for something.”

GymRat!Miguel who presents the bouquet to you, nervous of your reaction.

“It’s a small start, but I, I hope that we can still be together. I talked to Xina like you asked and I want to go somewhere with you to really say everything. All truths on the table.”

Your mouth wobbles as your eyes light up from the fairy lights woven throughout the green and golden roses.

“I’m sorry it’s not as big as it’s supposed to be.”

The woman he ordered them from was stacked with birthday and anniversary bouquets. He paid more than he should to get his flowers finished faster.

“‘You are my Evangeline’?” you ask, fingers going over the silky petals.

“Sí,” his hands cover yours over the bottom of the bunch. “La luz de mi vida, mi estrella. Mi bella Evangeline.”

You pout, stopping yourself from falling, only to plant your face in his chest, glasses and all.

Miguel wraps his arms around you, confused.

“You make me so weak,” you mumble.

His hands clutch onto your sweater, heart warm.

“I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing.”

You move your head, cheek pressed against his chest, “Of course you don’t. C’mon.”

His sweater is a little damp but he doesn’t mention it.

GymRat!Miguel who wants to skip as he follows you back to your dorm, but your wet oil paint canvases are in his hands. One wrong move, and his pants will be stained with whatever color landed on him.

He watches as you cradle your flowers to your chest, glancing down whenever you were waiting to cross the street.

“Do you like them?”

“Yes. They’re beautiful.”

He could do a backflip.

GymRat!Miguel who takes his shoes off by your door.

Your dorm smells like oranges and cherries, something so different than the pinecones and brown leaves outside.

“Where do want me to put these?” he asks, holding the sides of your paintings with all of his focus.

You turn and laugh at his stiff stance. His arms were stretched out to a slanted T and his feet were placed together.

“Just sit them up against the wall. They won’t bite you,” you say.

“Ok,�� he says and awkwardly puts them down. He pauses his hands in front of them afterwards in case they fall.

You go to sit at your desk, placing the flowers down.

“Is Jess here?” you hear Miguel ask.

“No, she’s gone for winter break already.”

You survey your desk, looking for anything else to focus on. You brought him here, you asked for him to prove himself, yet it’s barely been two weeks since you told him that. You feel silly for it.

Still, when you don’t hear or feel him for a while, you call his name.

“Miguel?”

“What’s this?” he asks.

Spinning around, you see he’s by the end of your bed, on the floor rummaging through a box.

“You packed my stuff up?” he holds up a hoodie that you only let him wear shortly before it finds its way back into your closet. His eyebrows turn, limbs heavy as he pulls out gift after jacket after picture. So many things that marked his time together with you.

“Looking at everything was too much for me. I did it the night we fought. It helped me to focus and not,” you threw your hands up, “simmer on my boyfriend sleeping with someone who is practically the opposite of me.”

Miguel pushes the box to the side and crawls towards you. It was an odd sight to see him inching steadily across your big rug. He stops and sits in front of you, face upset.

“I really wish you would listen to me. I wish you would believe me.”

“I’m trying-“

“No, baby,” Miguel says, pulling your chair towards him. You were too far away. “You’re not. You’re blocking me out.”

You blink, fingers picking at your nails.

“Do you remember that time I said I wasn’t going to let you go?” Miguel wraps your legs around his sides and slots his head on your thigh. “I was serious about that. You aren’t supposed to let me go either.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know.”

“So if you know, why did you let me go?”

You took a deep breath.

“Because I was hurting, Miguel. I painted this picture in my head of you two being this perfect, ideal couple because of….jealousy? Insecurity? I don’t know. I would see you two in the library sometimes or standing in line for food together, close and wrapped up in a bubble. I kept telling myself that you both were friends. These are the things that friends do. I would leave before I could give myself time to get stupidly upset. But when we were all hanging out together, you kept defending everything she was doing.”

Miguel thinks back to the comments and snide remarks he let slide and wants to shake that version of himself out of delusion.

“Then, there were the messages that weren’t going through, the calls that were getting dropped. Sometimes, I saw Xina holding you,” your voice faltered. “And she’d wear things I could find in my closet and I thought I was being punked. So, when I saw you on your birthday and took a leap of faith, I was destroyed when she was texting your phone.”

You couldn’t take it. You thought he lied to your face for months.

Miguel closed his eyes, trying to form what he wanted to say.

He’s thinking about how stupid he was to not see your pain. The signs were all there, or at least, the times when he should have stepped in were.

That aside, he was upset. Upset at the situation, upset that his relationship has been torn by someone who barely acknowledged him for a year, upset at you.

He didn’t want another girl, he didn’t need another girl, and even if by some sick and terrible decision, he decided to part ways with you, he would never choose Xina.

She couldn’t love him the way you do and what she did to him showed that.

She couldn’t make him feel the way you do. You left him with butterflies, you made him excited. You brought him so much joy.

She couldn’t care for him the way that you did. She would rather hang him out to dry to make herself look good before she thought about how he felt about something.

She couldn’t even confess to him without hurting him, without trying to shift her chances of being with him. It sucks that her life was changing so rapidly against her will, but that didn’t mean she had to create a whirlwind for him to suffer through, too.

It’s so irritating how she came in and swept up his time, his life, and your confidence, but it’s more frustrating for you to have to even wonder if she could replace you.

Miguel’s mind is going a thousand miles per minute, head starting to hurt with how aggravated he was.

“Don’t cry,” you say reaching up to his face, sniffling. “Please, don’t cry.”

He didn’t even notice he was. He realizes then that his thoughts were made aloud.

“’M sorry,” he says, face scrunching up. He leans into your hand, eyes closed as the tears fall. “I’m sorry for everything. But I’m angry that you keep thinking that you’re not worth my love. You’re worth it. You’re worth so much more than what I can give you. But I feel so lucky that you’re giving me the chance to be a part of your life, so I want you to love yourself, too.”

You nod once, twice, before your palms cover your face and you’re sobbing. Miguel pulls you down to his lap, holding you tight. He hated that you were fighting these thoughts alone, but now that he’s aware of everything he’ll try his best again to give you the love you needed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair like a mantra.

Through your sorrow, your relief, you everything, you echo his words, “I’m sorry, too. I should have trusted you more.”

“True,” Miguel says and you laugh in the midst of your aches. “But I still love you.”

“I love you, too. I never stopped.”

He squeezes you tighter, heart feather light.

GymRat!Miguel who eventually gets you comfortable, the two of you settling down on the giant plush bean bag sofa that you’ve stuffed under your dorm bed.

He was prepared to wine and dine you, but you insisted on videos and some warm, fulfilling fast food. The true college dream.

You laid on his chest, watching as the man on screen yelled as his character opened the door to a bathroom and a stranger was fixing the sink. Miguel tensed under you, hands gripping the waist of your lounging pants.

It was making up for the Halloween you two spent apart.

“Too scary?” you move your head to look at his face.

His mouth was twisted up, heart beating, “No…”

“Then, why are you holding me so tight?”

“A boyfriend can’t hold his girlfriend?”

You grinned.

You didn’t know how much you missed him calling you his girlfriend until he was less than a centimeter away from you.

A scream followed by a line of curses comes from your laptop speakers, Miguel gasping and squinting at the screen, eyes almost squeezing shut.

“You know, we don’t have to watch this,” you try your best to turn your body so that you were fully on top of him. “We can watch something else.”

Miguel focused on your face, eyes fighting to not look at your lips, “Like what?”

“We can watch a cooking competition. I know you have some documentaries and video essays saved up. We could watch those.”

Miguel thinks he could really be a lip reader. Your lips were moving pretty fast, but he thinks he got most of it.

“You want to use the kitchen this late? It might be closed.”

You slide your hand up his chest, comforting through the thin shirt. Your lips move again and Miguel blinks slowly trying to keep up.

A touch on his jaw has him look up.

“Did you hear me?”

Miguel moves his head in a circle, answer going from yes to no.

“What are you thinking right now?”

He feels you out, hands slowly going down your back and circling the area where your thighs curve out into your ass.

“How much I need to kiss you.”

“Oh really?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Then maybe, you should put those words into action.”

That was all he needed to pull you up, mouth going to yours like a magnet. You make a startled noise as he opens his mouth to slide his lip from your jaw to the bottom of your lip.

You open your mouth with his, thumbs rubbing against his sideburns as he hums against your tongue. The sound of the push and pull of your lips fills the small space under your bed. The tale of the girl and her winter vacation long forgotten in the background.

His hands go under your waistband, palms bringing extra warmth as he squeezes over your underwear.

“I missed this,” he sighs, mouth and hands working together to make you melt into him. He was starting to grind you against him, humming low in his throat.

“Kissing me or something else?” you open your eyes a little, watching his eyelashes against his cheek.

He pushes up against you, bean bag shifting down, “Everything.”

“Cheeky.”

“More like charmed.”

The two of you were glued to each other long enough for the hour long video to end, only the glow of your fairy lights and lamps lighting your room.

Both of your shirts were pulled up, your chest smooshed against his. Miguel had one hand around your waist, massaging your side, and another pulling your underwear between your lips so that you had something extra to feel as you grind against his groin.

“Bebecita,” Miguel says after you let his tongue from your lips. He pecks you in between his words, hungry. “Let’s move this to the bed.”

He kisses down your jaw, making no effort to get up.

“I don’t have any condoms and unless you’re willing to drive out to get some-”

Miguel removes a hand to reach into his pocket.

“Did you just have that on you?” you ask looking at the pack of condoms in his hand.

“No. I got them when I went to go get clothes.”

You tut, “So you just thought we were going have sex? You’re not even supposed to be in here right now.”

He slides his fingers down between your legs, pressing on your lips over cotton, “Of course not, bebe. I’m not an animal.”

He rubs and sucks a kiss into your neck. You’re so lost in him that you didn’t even realize that you were beginning to push back against his fingers. The moan you let out brings you back to reality.

Seeing Miguel’s smug face made you hide yours in his chest.

“Just try not to be too loud. I don’t know if my neighbor is still here or not,” you muffled into his skin.

GymRat!Miguel who really didn’t give a fuck about the neighbors.

He thinks he wants them to hear. It’s been too long since he had you, his decency was thrown out of the window.

Right now, he was head first, indulging, sucking at the entrance of your heat. You were on your knees, ass in his face, and feet hanging off the bed. You were already so wet from earlier, but now he has you dripping down his face onto the floor, moaning into your pillow.

He didn’t hear you over himself as he gripped your skin to spread you over his tongue. Your thighs were shaking like a leaf, feet occasionally kicking as Miguel found his pocket to make you suck him in.

You sounded off into the silk case below you, trying not to make yourself louder than the music you put on.

Miguel was satisfied that you came on his tongue, but didn’t like you censoring yourself not one bit.

“I want to try something new,” he states into your skin, sucking your clit through the aftershocks.

You only give him a shaky thumbs up, mind still finding its other pieces.

GymRat!Miguel who has you flat against your stomach along the bed. There really was barely any room to do this, but he was going to make it work.

You had a long mirror in your room that wasn’t attached to the wall, so beforehand, he brought it over to lean against the desk and turn it towards the top of your bed. He saw the confusion in your face through the glass, but he only smiled and went right back to you.

Now, he was holding one cheek over as he slid in slowly. From the mirror, he could see your face scrunch up. He shifted his knees, watching.

“¿Estás bien?” he asks. “Want me to slow down? Pull out?”

“No,” you keen, constricting around him. He sucked air in through his teeth, feeling you suck him in. “I just haven’t felt you in a while.”

He leans to kiss up your back, taking fat in between his lips to mark it as his. He fights the urge to just bite and stay there for a while.

“Whose fault is that, pretty?” he teases, dragging his lips to the back of neck.

You look to your left and pout at him through the mirror. He looks back, eyes scanning your naked upper half.

You arch your back and tighten around him. He thinks you’re a menace.

“Yours,” you tease back.

“Yeah?” his left hand grabs your waist, thumb pressing into the small of your back. He slides out a bit, hips elevated. “Let me fix that, then.”

His hips dip back into you, smack of his skin against yours. The bed creaks and Miguel watches your eyelids fall.

“Do you want a fast solution?” Miguel says right in your ear. “Or should we do some deeper research?”

He snaps his hips again, leaning down and pressing his weight onto you. Your hands curl up against the mattress, mouth open but only letting out gasps and breaths. Miguel nearly pulls all the way out, then swerves back in, pushing your voice out of you.

“It sounds like you want to pull from some scholarly articles,” Miguel whispers. He’s barely picking up a sweat while you’re hot everywhere. “It’s unclear.”

The springs of the mattress sing, metal and wood bed frame keeping a steady tempo against the wall.

You can’t even focus enough to tell him to shut up, the position you were in knocking the wind out of you. You start to hide your face in your pillow again, overwhelmed.

Miguel releases an offended sound.

“Nuh uh,” his right hand wraps in front of your neck. He pulls head up and turns it towards the mirror. “Look how pretty you look. Don’t hide.”

Your boyfriend might be a little nuts.

Your eyes can’t even focus but he’s holding your head steady and nibbling your earlobe as he waits. Your glasses are crooked and fogging up, you can’t even really see.

His name tries to fall from your mouth, but that “M” sound comes out broken and loud. He’s too busy being enchanted by how good you look.

“Mi preciosa princesita,” his hips stutter as you clench in response. “So gorgeous.”

He’s hitting your spot over and over again. You’re losing track of time.

“Don’t you think so too, baby?” Miguel huffs.

“Y-yes, Miggy, please.”

“Are you close?”

You nod, watching his eyes get darker.

“Ok, bebé. I still have some follow-up questions, though. Gonna answer them?”

A yell comes out as your answer, Miguel stroking faster.

He kisses your cheek and takes your glasses off. They were slipping and he was scared you were going to break them.

“Question one, do you want to do something for winter break?”

He opens your legs a bit, leaning and wrapping his hand under your body. His fingers find your clit and rub nice and slow. Overstimulated, you scream into the pillow. Miguel kisses your shoulder as he hums.

“I think that’s a yes,” Miguel says. Your back arches as you try to move your hips to match his pace. “Question two, what do you want for Christmas? It’s getting late, but I’ll find it. I swear.”

“Fuck, Miguel,” you say as his hands move to your breasts. He can’t do much, but there’s still something so good about him all over you.

“You want this again? We can arrange that.”

He was close and you could hear it in the way his voice wavered.

“Last question,” he rose off of you, hands pushing against your back. Your body couldn’t move as he slapped his pelvis against your ass. The recoil sounded off in the room and the entire bed jumped with his movement.

“Are you still mad at me?”

Your back arched as you felt him breach deep enough to make you go crazy. He was mumbling something but your thoughts were swimming with his dick inside of you about to introduce another orgasm.

“Say it back, baby. You gotta say it back,” Miguel’s voice sounds out.

There might be a pool of drool growing under your face. Your boyfriend didn’t care, though. He would still want you to say that declaration through any obstruction.

“I love you, Miguel. Te amo tanto.”

His hips quicken, bed against the wall like a drumline.

When he cums, his body tightens and releases, weight letting go as he covers you. He’s breathing hard, “te amo,” his proverb to you.

You blink at the mirror, vision blurry, but the comforted and satisfied expression of Miguel still recognizable.

You could stay like this, breaths slowly becoming tighter until you fall asleep in his arms.

The bed gives a loud snap, scaring Miguel into nearly falling off of it with you on top.

It’s leaning a little more to the back left than it should.

“Did you just break my fucking bed?”

He panics, “I-it was a joint effort!”

“Miguel.”

GymRat!Miguel who thanks whatever entity it is out there afterwards that it was just a screw that came out and not the bed actually completely splitting.

“This is why the beds are tiny in the first place,” you say from the bean bag, watching him screw it back together.

“I would have covered the costs if it was actually broken. We should look into sturdy bed frames for the future, though.”

“Oh?”

Miguel pauses, “Not that I was thinking about that!”

“You already have a list, don’t you.”

You watch his hands stutter as he puts your screwdriver back in your bin.

GymRat!Miguel who suggests you lay on top of him in the bed.

The two of you were freshly showered and ready to close your eyes any minute now.

“We should take breaks more often. I feel like jelly,” you say with a low voice, drawing circles over his chest.

He grabs your wrist, voice serious in the dark, “Don’t joke like that.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. You made up for the last time you didn’t make me come.“

“Baby.”

You giggled into him as he pinched your sides.

“What about you and Royce? Your friend whose name starts with an R and ends with an E.”

“It’s not my fault rose and Royce are similar!”

“But you knew what you were doing. How cruel,” he pouts.

You pat his cheek!

“Well, you don’t have to worry because he has a boyfriend.”

“Oh! So, he’s gay.”

“Bi. Open relationship.”

“Oh,” Miguel replied, less happy.

“I kind of just want one lover, though.”

“Oh,” Miguel says again, more happy. “What kind of lover?”

You stay quiet for so long, Miguel thinks you’ve gone to sleep.

There’s a lot of things that you love about him. His kindness, his heart, his determination, his wit. Tonight, though, he truly took your breath away.

And you realize, he’s always done that.

“The kind that loves me the way that you do.”

Miguel���s chest rises and falls like a wave that gets weaker as it hits the shore.

“Me too, mi luz. Me too.”

divider by: fanguro + adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Our family is has been brought back together!! Also, if you get which horror game they were watching, you get a gold star.

Please very mindful, very cutesy, very demure in the comments. Don’t ask about the next part unless you have something nice/constructive to say to go with it. And no, this is not the last time Xina will be in this story. But it’ll get better!

The taglist is full, so if you would like to be informed of future updates, check my blog occasionally (💀) or subscribe to the story on AO3!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

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@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

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[zoe-oneesama]

1. I really just don’t like how you shit on Chloe in your Au considering that she is technically the Main character now because of her having the ladybug earrings.

2. As for unlikable characters exist. Yeah they do but they usually don’t have a really good back story.

Thomas give her a sad backstory, took that away and made her worse ??? It makes no sense. Especially if it was supposed to be a unlikable character. her backstory isn’t an excuse for her actions but yall hate her for the actions and at the same time don’t want her to change.

(Not only that but he ended replacing her with a very boring and rushed character like Zoé.)

Basically what I’m saying it’s just weird for yall to hate a character that much.

I think it's really weird for y'all to be so defensive of a fictional person, yet here we are.

Perhaps you were mislead because her "hero" form was the title of the AU, but uh, Scarlet Lady was never about Chloe. That's why she didn't, like, grow or anything and why we left her several times to focus on Adrien and Marinette. Having the Ladybug Earrings does not automatically make someone the main character, she's the tritagonist at best. And canonically, she's just a side character with too much screen time.

But even if she was the main character, so what? Scarlet Lady's tone is comical, it was never going to go deep (except in the Finale, kinda) and Chloe was never going to get the 5 Hour Youtube Essay Deep Cut in Comic Form about the Wonderful Person She Had the Potential to Become that viewers like you seem to be craving so badly.

And we fundamentally disagree about Chloe's backstory. It's not a good backstory, it's pretty basic, not even entirely unique to Chloe in the very story it's stuck in, and removing it changes nothing about her or her personality and motivations in the long run. It's used as a weak excuse that's only brought up at random to the point where even canon doesn't buy it anymore.

Though I'm not sure why you think that unlikeable characters can't have sympathetic backstories, the point is usually that despite going through the worst and despite the fact that it's entirely possible if things were different for them that the character could've been someone entirely different (and therefore "likeable"), none of those things erase the things they've done or make them more likeable. It just makes them kinda sad on top of it.

But that doesn't really apply to Chloe since taking out her garbage birth giver still leaves her with Andre who did a good job ruining her all on his own.

Anyway, sorry for the rant, but to wrap it up, sorry you don't like how I do things around here, no one's keeping you here if you don't wanna be faced with it or whatever.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of whb king (plus any other characters you want) reacting to gn mc avoiding them for as long as she can because mc got dared to by some random demon

WHB kings' reaction to MC avoiding them because of a dare

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! This was so fun to write since each king had a completelly different reaction ^^ Sorry for the long wait though t-t

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oh, Satan doesn't like this at all

The moment he notices your suspiciously long absence, he's on the prowl

Where are you and why tf are you avoiding him?

He'll even send out Amy and his group to look for you and bring you to him

Hopefully he'll during his search find out about the dare

At least hopefully for you

Poor demon who dared you will find himself homeless after Satan in his demon form destroys his place

Once that's dealt with, the next time you go outisde, you come face to face with Satan, leaning back against his bike

"Talked to that mf. The dare's called off :)"

    ༺☆༻

Mammon notices that you haven't been around him much, but he just chalks it up to you being busy

He's okay with it, knowing that eventually you'll come back to him anyway

Besides, if you needed something, you'd surely call him

After finding out that it's a dare, he's also curious how long you'll be able to keep away from him

If he ever gets worried about you, he'll just send one of his nobles to check up on you

Once you're back to him, he's taking you out for a dinner to congratulate you on how long you lasted

    ༺☆༻

Leviathan knew from the beginning thanks to Foras

You don't even get to leave the Hades castle so it's easier for you to avoid him when you get a message from the devil who dared you that the dare is off

It doesn't take a genius to realise that the poor demon had been visited by His Majesty himself and forced to end your dare early

Most likely, if you video-called with him, he'll be gasping for air, hung by a noose

The next time you see Leviathan, he acts like nothing happened, but you can feel his piercing stare when you're not looking at him

He's most likely not sure how to punish you yet...

But once he does...

Oh boy, now comes the moment to avoid him for the sole sake of your survival

    ༺☆༻

Funny :)

You think you can avoid Beel? :)

I mean, technically you could do that by hanging around in the Abyssos castle, but even then you can't exactly avoid Beel

If Beel wants to see you, he'll come and see you

Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing

Even if it means that he'll have to sneak through his own castle to escape Bael's wrath

And even more so, if he finds out about the dare...

Oops, he just reminded he meant to take you to this place and booked it in advance and can't cancel it

Sorry, guess you'll have to spend the whole month with him :)

I guess the rule with Beel is that the more you want him, the less he'll be around

(True story with my pulls for his cards tbh T-T)

    ༺☆༻

Belphie would probably realise that it's been a while since you were there when he woke up, but eh...

Maybe you're just busy doing your work

No sweat

That is until Beleth accidentally slips up about the dare

Oh?

Now that is something different

Prepare to start dreaming about him every night

That'll eventually make you come back...

And if not, don't worry...

Belphie's ability can bring you back anytime, so enjoy your time away from him before he decides this little game is over

    ༺☆༻

Keeping away from Asmo is honestly your day-to-day task, so I don't think there's much difference

That is until you realize that it's time for another annual king meeting

The real challenge becomes coming up with a good reason to excuse yourself from it

And all the nobles are helping you at this point

Sure, you could just not go, but Asmo might then leave the meeting to come and see you since he was so excited to meet you after so long

In the end Leviathan coems to save the day and hides you inside his coffin for as long as the need be

Phew

You're safe for another year

    ༺☆༻

To Lucifer, not seeing you for a long time is a good thing

It just means you're healthy and safe

But he does eventually start to miss you

And then Gamigin talks a bit too much and mentions that you've been avoiding Paradise Lost because of a dare

So whenever you need medical assistance one of the nobles has to do a house call

...

A house call?

That sounds unsanitary

Who even knows what germs and bacteria you might catch

Lucifer better make his way over to you for a surprise visit to make sure you're doing well

And no apples can save you from this doctor

[slashbitch2]

The Proposal AU! (part one)

Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage

W.C: 1.3k words

PART TWO (coming soon)

Agatha Harkness was a terrible boss. In the five years you had been working as her assistant, you had her schedule memorised, you constantly tried to anticipate her needs, and yet, she could barely remember your name. And that wasn’t the only flaw, oh no. There was the erratic behaviour, her quickness to anger, the fact that she always teetering the line between serious and sarcastic, so you could never quite tell whether she meant what she had said. Which would be your excuse if she attempted to criticise your response time to her latest question.

It's just… there was no way she was being serious… Right?

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that last part, please?” You asked slowly, steadily lowering the file in your hands to pay full attention to Agatha. She was sat at her desk, looking up at you as though you were an idiot. So, like usual.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to get down on one knee.” Agatha scoffed, and when you didn’t respond, quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I’m just having a hard time comprehending what you’re asking of me.” You spluttered out.

She exhaled, clearly irritated. Then leant forwards over the desk and demanded, “Marry me,” punctuating each word with the intensity of her glare.

Under her scrutiny, you could feel your cheeks flushing. She never usually paid this much attention to you unless she needed something, which was rare. But this was too far. It had to be some kind of test surely. Of what, you weren’t sure. Loyalty? Dedication? Insanity?

After a beat of silence, you finally remembered to respond. “You’re insane.”  You folded your arms across your chest, still in disbelief that she would ever ask such a thing. You knew Agatha was unpredictable, dramatic, terrifying even, but never could you have imagined her saying such a thing on this unassuming Thursday afternoon. She never brought her personal life into work, and so why she would want to bring her work (aka you) into her home, her bed, well- it was a mystery.

Your cheeks grew redder at the image your mind conjured up. You and the boss, in bed, together.

The silence continued, and you summoned the resolve to look back at Agatha. She was staring up at you expectantly, and you realised that, despite your aghast reaction, she was still awaiting a response.

“No!” You exclaimed, mouth agape.

At this, her red lips stretched back into a malicious grin. “I wasn’t asking, dear.”

Something about her teasing smile and her mildly threatening words flustered you. “Well… you can’t make me.” You responded futilely. You knew she could. This was Agatha Harkness, after all. She could make anyone do anything.

And yet… “No, I can’t.” Agatha conceded with a simple shrug.

This caught you off guard. You frowned down at her, wondering if this was some form of reverse psychology.

“But what I can do is offer something in return.” Agatha winked, and if you weren’t flustered enough before, you certainly were now.

You took a moment to breathe. To calm the way your heart raced in your chest. You recognised the innuendo to her words, but knew the connotations likely lay in more entrepreneurial benefits. A promotion. A raise perhaps. The possibilities were endless, and all of them would help you to pay the rent. Now that, you couldn’t pass up on so easily.

“But why?” You asked, quieter, reluctant to admit to yourself that you were settling into the idea. “Why do you need to marry me?”

“Oh pfft,” Agatha waved a hand dismissively. “Not specifically you. This is nothing personal.”

“Oh great. That makes me feel so much better, thank you.” You snarked.

“Come on, you’re a clever girl.” Agatha narrowed her gaze, that teasing edge so easily returning to her tone. “You can figure it out.”

You paused to think, running through everything you knew about your boss. She lived alone, quite happily so, which ruled out any kind of breakdown. She was about ten years older than you, which meant this probably wasn’t a midlife crisis. But in terms of personal information, that was about all you knew. Agatha was a married to the job kind of woman, constantly in and out of meetings, often the last to leave the office. You had tried to outlast her one evening, but upon seeing the delivery guy arrive with enough food to survive the night, you had given up and headed home.

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, eyes briefly flickering about the office when an idea struck you.

“Earlier today…” You began, speaking cautiously slow. “You had a meeting scheduled with your immigration lawyer.”

“Atta girl.” Agatha leant back in her chair, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“You’ve been putting off that meeting for weeks,” you continued.

“It didn’t seem important!”

“Well, I’m guessing your visa expired. And you panicked, because being deported would suck, so you lied and said you were engaged.”

“Bingo!” Agatha clapped her hands, as though this were some fun guessing game and not a huge life issue that would turn both your lives upside down. “Being deported would suck, as you so eloquently put it. I would lose my job, so god knows what would happen to you.” She pulled a face of mock concern, pointing a sharp finger in your direction. “And now all I need is some all-American idiot to get me that green card. Simple. Beneficial for us both, really.”

“No. Not simple. Not beneficial for us both.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “For one, with you gone I might actually get a normal boss.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” She quipped. “Plus, me being gone would certainly halt your progression up the ranks- and where would you ever find a better recommendation than from your boss turned wife, huh toots?”

Agatha was talking with such rationality that it was giving you a migraine. You pinched the bridge of your nose in an attempt to soothe it. “Please take a moment to think about this. I mean is it even allowed? The whole employer, employee relationship?”

“Oh, stop with your worrying. I wasn’t the one who hired you.”

“And you really can’t think of anyone else to do this?” You implored, though you were afraid you already knew the answer.

“I admit I didn’t give it much thought, but what’s the problem? You’re not dating anyone, your family are abroad so they won’t get involved in any of it-”

“How do you know all this?” You interrupted, frowning. Clearly your prior assumption that she didn’t give you the time of day was incorrect.

“I’m observant.” She deadpanned. “So, it’s settled, we’ll get married, live apart for a year, then when the immigration office determines I’m not a threat to the country, we’ll get an uncontested divorce with two of the finest lawyers’ money can buy. Breeze it through the law courts and never speak of it again. You get your promotion; I don’t have my whole life uprooted.”

You hummed noncommittally, finding yourself at a loss for words.

“Great, I’m taking that as a yes!” Agatha stood up abruptly, striding past you to grab her coat. “Let’s hit the road!”

“What? Both of us?”

“Of course. You’re my besotted fiancée and we’ve got a immigration officer to chat with!” Agatha nudged open the office door, storming through the building without another word. You simply stood and watched her go, her long navy coat flapping behind her, swishing back and forth with every step. You momentarily entertained the thought that it was a cloak- that she was secretly an evil witch in disguise as your boss.

It was the only reasonable conclusion from what you had just been roped into.

Groaning, you reluctantly followed your soon-to-be wife, trying desperately to ignore the churning anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

NEXT PART

Notes: ok I need to fess up I don't have much of a plan for this fic and uni work is kicking my ass so my time is v limited. But I've always wanted to write something following the vague plot of The Proposal- the film this is based off in case you can't tell.... so, hope you enjoyed :)

[hxney-lemcn]

Cuddling Headcanons — Jade & Floyd Leech x gn! reader

tw: none.

a/n: I know I already wrote affection headcanons for all the NRC students, but I had a dream about hugging Floyd and needed to write about cuddling the eel.

wc: 1k

Master List

Join my Twisted Wonderland Discord here!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jade Leech

❥Jade is a bit stiff when it comes to physical affection. Your hugs are met with light pats to the back. Just give him some time and start with small things. Jade, unlike his brother, isn’t as well versed in expressing his emotions so openly. He’ll try for you though, but only in private, he’s not comfortable with being vulnerable by himself, let alone in front of others.

❥Expresses his affection more subtly than Floyd, whether that be giving you gifts or helping you with any troubles. If you really want to hold on to him he’s more open to gentlemanly shows of affection like linking elbows or kissing the back of your hand. He’s amused at your want for affection and can’t help but give in even if it’s just slightly (also enjoys showing you off in a way that isn’t overly affectionate).

❥When you’re alone? He’s more open to any hugging you have in mind. Over time the awkward pats on your back will turn into a firm hug. You’re very lucky, he doesn’t even hug his brother like this. Like Floyd, his body temperature depends on his environment, so he won’t be warm per say, but he is tall and his hugs make you feel shielded from the rest of the world. He will tease you about how affectionate you are (even if you aren’t super affectionate), calls you clingy but makes no move to let go. 

❥Cuddling is another thing Jade has to get used to. So, so stiff at first. Over time he gets used to it, understanding how you want him to hold you or if you want to hold him (he finds the second option much more amusing). It’s not something he’ll crave, but he also enjoys the warmth you provide (both physically and emotionally). It’s in these moments that he finds himself willing to be just a bit more vulnerable with you, kissing your temple softly and tracing your features with his eyes. Finds it amusing and heartwarming that you’re willing to be so vulnerable in front of a predator like him.

❥Mornings are so domestic. Jade will typically wake first, go through his morning routine and wake you after. If he’s feeling a bit extra he’ll make you breakfast in bed, revealing just how sappy he actually was deep down. On the rare occasion you wake up before/with Jade, he finds the way you both walk around each other, doing your separate routine’s to be his favorite moment. How well you both know each other, and are comfortable you are with the other. It doesn’t fail to warm his heart. He’ll be hesitant if you ask to do his hair, he has a very specific routine to make himself look professional…but your puppy dog eyes do work on him no matter how much he argues otherwise.

❥Even Jade’s sleepwear is classy, you almost feel hesitant to touch it…almost. Unlike Floyd’s pajamas (which are baggy on him, can’t imagine how baggy they’d be on you), Jade’s are silky and smooth…also very baggy on you. He can’t help the predatory smile that tugs on his lips when he sees you in them, perhaps even he can feel a bit of cute aggression. But he doesn’t squeeze you, instead he admires you when you give him a twirl, flapping the sleeves that engulf your hands. He doesn’t mind sharing with you, not as long as you keep this view between the two of you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Floyd Leech

❥Let me just say this out front, hugging Floyd is so comfy. He may not be super warm (moray eels are ectotherms which means their body temps depend on their environment), but the way he holds you so snuggly more than makes up for that. If you’re touch starved he’ll be your best bud. An excuse to squeeze someone? Sign him up. A willing victim to his shenanigans is welcome in his book (although he finds himself a bit downtrodden that you don’t run away from him anymore, he liked the chase).

❥Loves love loves touching you. Whenever he sees you he just gets the urge to squeeze you, but not like his normal squeezes where he wants the person to pop. No, he wants to squeeze you because of the fluttery feeling he gets in his chest. Cute aggression to the max. He doesn’t just hug you though, he likes to swing your intertwined hands or carries you around (depends how he’s feeling). 

❥Cuddling with him is a one way ticket to being stuck for hours. He loves draping himself over you like a weighted blanket. Maybe not fully laying on top of you, but you lay side by side facing each other and he’s got an arm and leg splayed over you. Floyd basically cocoons you in his hold, basking in the warmth both you and the blankets provided him. Loves love loves feeling you snuggle into him, he gets all happy and squeezes you just a bit tighter.

❥In the morning you never know what mood Floyd will be in. Some days he’s extra sleepy and will try and get you to stay with him (it’s hard to say no with him nuzzling his face into your messy hair), other days he’s bouncing off the wall, wanting you to get up early with him and start the day off with a bang. No matter what he’ll be asking you to help him with his morning routine, specifically fixing his hair. He has such a terrible bedhead that it never fails to amuse you. Floyd just loves to feel your hands in his hair, so who better to style it than you? 

❥Steal his clothes. Do it. Okay maybe I want to steal his sleepwear ‘cus it looks so comfy. His reaction depends on how he’s feeling. If he’s in a happier mood he’ll coo and tease you for stealing his clothes, makes him wanna wrap you up and keep you all to himself. If he's in a pissed mood, he won’t take too kindly. He was already having a bad day and now you’re wearing the exact hoodie he wanted to throw on. It might seem like he’s being a drama queen but if you’ve been looking forward to something (especially when you’re having a bad day) and someone took it you wouldn’t be too happy either. So don’t fight him, let him take the hoodie (and steal a different one).

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere!Cop - NonCon

Yandere! State Trooper who's not much older than you but so so drunk on power.

Yandere! State Trooper who pulls you over for the first time and spends the whole stop looking down your shirt. Thank God for his shades so you don't notice where his eyes have wandered.

Yandere! State Trooper who makes sure to remember your car and your plates. You're such a little thing really, and he just wants to keep an eye on you.

Yandere! State Trooper who grabs any excuse to pull you over, just so he can lean on your roof and savour the power he has over you. The way you fiddle with your skirt and look up at him all pleading, practically begging him not to write you up. Who gets so hard after talking to you that he needs to sit and cool off before he can get back to his job.

Yandere! State Trooper who's been noting down even the smallest infractions and writing you tickets. Tickets he conveniently forgets to tell you about. Tickets that pile up and run overdue.

Yandere! State Trooper who knows every route you drive and sits waiting for you. Who can't believe his luck when you have the midnight shift and decide to drive home on such a lonely stretch of road.

Yandere! State Trooper who doesn't hesitate to pull you over, his cock getting hard before he even gets out of the cruiser.

Yandere! State Trooper who pulls up your stack of tickets and shows you a court summons you have no idea you were served. Who says you're sure to lose your license, maybe even earn yourself a criminal record. Would your boss keep a felon on her payroll?

Yandere! State Trooper who opens your car door when you start to cry and kneels down to comfort you. Who rests his gloved hand on your thigh and draws slow circles with his thumb. Who says he can take care of you. You're clearly not as organised as you thought, if you let your tickets get this out of hand.

Yandere! State Trooper who says he can make it all dissappear. Who says all he wants in exchange is a little favour.

Yandere! State Trooper who turns very nasty very fast when you reject his offer. Who pulls you out of your car and slams you down on the hood of his cruiser.

Yandere! State Trooper who says he needs to search you and kicks your legs far wider apart than they need to go.

Yandere! State Trooper who says he's detaining you for his safety even as he tightens the cuffs so much they dig into your wrists.

Yandere! State Trooper who leans down and growls that a borderline felon like you needs to be thoroughly searched.

Yandere! State Trooper who takes his sweet time searching you. Who drags his fingertips up your legs even though all you're wearing is sheer panty hose and anyone can see you're not hiding anything. Who let's his hands brush against your bra more than once. Who stands so close behind you, you can smell his aftershave.

Yandere! State Trooper who growls like an animal when you try and pull away from him.

Yandere! State Trooper who says you only have yourself to blame. Who lifts your cute little pencil skirt above your ass and is crass enough to wolf whistle when he gets a good look at you.

Yandere! State Trooper who is so impatient to play that he grabs your pantyhose and rips it open. Who smirks at the tiny little thong you're wearing and hooks his finger in it, just to stretch it back and let it snap against your clit. Who chuckles just a little at the way you jump.

Yandere! State Trooper who keeps his leather gloves on as he rubs his fingers up and down your slit. Who slowly eases a finger into you and watches you squirm at the foreign feeling. A trooper must always be thorough when doing a search he claims.

Yandere! State Trooper who leans forward so his crotch rubs against your almost bare ass and his lips brush against your ear.

Yandere! State Trooper who rubs his tip up and down your pussy lips, listening to your breath hitch and reveling in it. Who pushes into you oh so slowly, inch by inch. Who can't help but moan at the way you quiver both around and underneath him.

Yandere! State Trooper who gets rougher the closer he gets to coming. Who grabs your handcuffs and pulls you back on his dick with every thrust.

Yandere! State Trooper who bites your neck when he comes just so he can mark you all at once.

Yandere! State Trooper who calls you baby doll as he fucks you and ma'am when he's done.

Yandere! State Trooper who walks you back to your car because your can barely stand properly after the pounding he gave you.

Yandere! State Trooper who closes your car door like a gentleman and leans over you with his arm on the roof. Who's grinning like a wolf with you panties hanging out his front pocket. And you try to ignore him but no matter what, you can't get his cologne off your skin.

Yandere! State Trooper who winks at you and says these backwood roads are real dangerous for pretty little things driving alone. That he'll personally escort you home from now on.

Yandere! State Trooper who tilts your chin up to face him and looks into your terrified eyes and says it's his duty to protect and serve.

[caitified]

can we get a caitlin x reader where reader is a fan and meets cc in Indy at an event and they just click. caitlin isn't fully out to her teammates though so she's trying to be lowkey with her flirting and is failing miserably lol

flirt

caitlin clark x reader

warnings: a little awkward, inspired by caitlin at the gala a few weeks ago, requests are open!

the gala is in full swing, filled with everyone from sports icons to industry insiders, and you’re just trying to soak it all in. you’re there representing your broadcasting company, a little starstruck but trying to keep it cool—until you spot caitlin clark a few feet away. she’s standing with a whole group of her indiana fever teammates, laughing and mingling: kelsey, temi, nalyssa, katie lou. they’re all impressive, but it’s caitlin who has this energy that keeps drawing your attention.

you’re doing your best not to stare, but caitlin glances up and catches your eye, a little smile tugging at her lips. then, without missing a beat, she excuses herself from the group and walks over, her teammates too caught up in their own conversations to notice her laser focus on you.

“hey,” she says, her tone casual but that smile just a little too interested to be entirely professional. “having a good time?”

“yeah, it’s amazing,” you reply, trying not to sound too flustered. “honestly, it’s a bit surreal seeing everyone in one place.”

she laughs, leaning in a little. “trust me, we’re just normal people. maybe a little taller than most.” there’s this spark in her eyes, and she finds these tiny excuses to brush her hand against yours or lean just a bit closer than necessary. every time, your heart skips, but each time one of her teammates glances over, she shifts back, trying to look casual. problem is, she’s terrible at being subtle.

kelsey notices first, raising an eyebrow as she looks between the two of you. “caitlin, making new friends?”

caitlin gives her a look, doing her best to play it cool. “yeah, just, you know… networking.”

“networking, sure,” kelsey says with a smirk before wandering off, clearly amused.

caitlin rolls her eyes, muttering, “ignore her.”

“oh, i don’t mind,” you tease, grinning. “she’s just picking up on your very subtle flirting.”

caitlin flushes but tries to laugh it off. “i don’t flirt,” she says, then quickly adds, “but… hypothetically, if i were—would it be working?”

you’re about to answer when temi appears, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile. “hey, are we interrupting something?”

“nope!” caitlin says a little too quickly, shooting you an almost guilty smile. “just… talking shop.”

temi nods, clearly not buying it but not pushing either. “right. well, we’re heading over to grab drinks. want to come?”

caitlin hesitates, glancing at you. “actually… i think i’ll stay here a bit.”

temi raises an eyebrow, clearly holding back a grin. “sure thing,” she chuckles, walking back to the others.

as soon as she’s gone, caitlin sighs, giving you a lopsided smile. “this is going so well, huh?”

“you’re not as subtle as you think,” you laugh.

she bites her lip, looking down for a second, then pulls a small card from her pocket. “here, for networking,” she says, handing you her number scribbled on it.

“totally professional, right?” you ask, mirroring her grin.

“of course,” she replies, her eyes twinkling. “though… if you’re around later, maybe we can expand this networking session.” she winks, cheeks flushed as she tries to play it off, failing miserably.

her teammates are watching as she rejoins them, giving her all kinds of teasing looks, but you’re left there with her number in your hand, grinning to yourself and already looking forward to whatever might happen next.

part 2? lesson coming soon for all that asked

[screwitbaby]

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader

summary: hamzah’s a horny freak and you’re the lucky camgirl who gets to entertain him.

contains: smut with plot, essentially

wc: 2.1k-ish

~

It's that time of the night where Hamzah has finally completed all his daily tasks and he feels a familiar twitch in his pants. As an adolescent he never understood what people meant by "thinking with your dick," but that was before he had access to myriads of internet porn at the press of a button.

It was a fateful day when he masturbated for the first time. What was once just a pee stick attached to his body suddenly became so much more after stumbling upon his dad's porn magazine collection in the garage. That year was full of mysterious viruses on the family computer that seemed to appear from thin air and lots of trips to his friend's houses to share his findings.

Of course, there was the eventual graduation from magazines to videos to now, God's greatest act since turning water to wine: OnlyFans.

This time, he did not simply stumble upon such a vice. Instead, he was introduced to it through a time of desperation. Covid was at its peak and quarantine was doing a number on his mental state. Or, perhaps that's just what he tells himself to excuse what he did next.

He went to one of the many models he followed on Instagram and clicked the link in their bio.

It was all too enticing, too easy. A simple hop, skip, and entering of credit card information later and he was in—subscribed. This was the first taste of a delicious new drug he would no longer be able to live without. From then on, an addictive part of his personality would take over and he'd constantly want more, more, more.

No one knew about his dirty little secrets in the taboo corner of the internet where he could explore his greatest fantasies. He wasn't a virgin anymore, but a sexual deviant with a very bad spending habit. He'd learn more about himself in this time than any amount of puberty and social interaction could have ever made clear to him in his lifetime.

And that all brings him to the current time, 11:03 p.m. on a Wednesday night, alone as per usual. The saddest part was, the porn made him feel a little bit less lonely in the onset of isolation he was experiencing since his detachment to the world. The throbbing in his pants held a dull ache as he disrobed and laid in bed in only his boxers. He pried his laptop open and typed in his favorite web address, the gateway to his favorite girl in the whole world.

You were the perfect woman in Hamzah's eyes. You'd do anything for the right amount of pay, somehow keeping the mystique surrounding you prevalent and consistently having him crawling back for more. You had fuck me eyes and blowjob lips. And last, but certainly not least, the most mouth-watering pair of tits.

Though Hamzah thoroughly enjoyed these physical aspects of you, he also felt a deeper connection with you. There was something about you that caught his attention, made him unable to focus on anyone else. He'd often find himself daydreaming about you; thinking of your grocery list while at the supermarket and unholy things you could do to him when passing the neighborhood church on walks. He was enamored by your whole being.

He opened up Zoom and went to your usual meeting room, waiting for you whilst nearly bursting through the cloth of his boxers. You were always a little late, and even though he'd been paying for these sessions for a couple months now, he couldn't bring himself to care. You could keep him waiting until the daylight and he was sure he'd still be sitting in front of the camera awaiting your entrance, having a part in his own torture as he refused to please himself until you got there.

When the notification finally sounded that you had joined, it was 13 minutes past your initial meeting time of 11:05.

"Hi, Hamzah," your sweet voice rang, "were you a good boy for me?"

"Yes." He quickly nodded, his eyes unable to separate from your cleavage.

You teasingly pouted and crossed your arms, pushing your breasts up in the process. "You're never naughty... always trying to please me, hm?"

"Always," he breathed out.

"But I want to please you, too," you whispered.

You moved your laptop camera to expose the length of your body, fully bedecked in lilac-colored lingerie atop silky bedsheets. Hamzah's hand instantly reached to grab himself with a whine.

"So eager," you giggled. Your fingernails trailed down your sternum, tracing the bow on the center of your bra. "I love how you react to me."

"I'm already so hard," he said through a grunt.

"Show me," you ordered.

Hamzah hastily pulled his boxers off, freeing his erection from its confines. He spat into his palm and gripped his shaft, lips parted.

"I wish that was my hand," you sighed, eyeing the imagery unfolding in front of you. "Don't you?"

"I do," he replied with no regard as to how desperate he sounded. It just fueled the fire in his belly. "I nearly fucked a hole in my hand yesterday thinking about you."

"What were you thinking of?" you questioned, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you unclasped your bra and slid the straps down your arms. Hamzah watched in amazement, the friction of his hand making him speechless. "Was I blowing you? Riding you?"

"In the shower," he panted. "Your face pressed against the tiles—shit—while I fucked you from behind."

You hummed, pinching your nipples for a moment before your hand trailed further down, "all wet for you?"

"Soaked," he said, tossing his head back on the wall but keeping his eyes on you. "S-screaming my name."

"Hamzah," you teased, "such a dirty mouth on you."

"Say my name again," he pleaded.

"Hamzah," you melodically repeated. "You're not gonna last long if you don't slow down."

He whined, knowing you were right. "So good...don't wanna stop."

"I know, baby," you murmured, running your fingertips over your wetness, "but don't you want to take your time with me?"

He watched as you slipped one finger in, then another, shielded by the fabric of your panties. He grunted in frustration, fisting his dick harder.

"Let me see you, please," he begged like the sight pained him, running his other hand through his disorderly curls.

You obliged, standing from the bed and turning so your ass was in the camera frame. You slowly pulled the laced bands down your hips, bending over as they fell down your legs and pooled at your ankles. Hamzah's breaths quickened as you kicked them to the ground, fully exposed to the camera.

"Fuck," he cursed, desperately reaching for his laptop to pull it closer and get a better view of you. "You're so..."

You crawled back onto the bed and parted your legs so you were out in the open for him, pussy glistening with your desire. Your fingers retraced their destined path as you reached down and spread your folds. He watched with hungry eyes.

"I'd kill to get a taste of you." He panted between his words.

You giggled and slipped teasing fingers in and out, never all the way. "Tell me how you want it, angel."

He moaned louder at the pet name. "All fours, p-please."

You flipped onto your knees, arching your back so your chest was touching the bed and you were looking over your shoulder at him.

"Touch yourself," he demanded.

Your cheek pressed on the mattress as you sunk your fingers deep within yourself, adding a third to fill you to the brim. Your mouth fell agape. The room filled with slapping sounds as you and Hamzah pumped your hands simultaneously.

"My god," he puffed out, his bare chest reddening with the fervor of his movements. "Just like that."

"So tight," you whimpered, feeling yourself clench around your fingers. "I'm dripping for you."

"I can almost f-feel you," he groaned as he pictured himself inside of you. "Fuck, the things I'd do to you..."

"Yeah?" You egged him on, getting restless. "Would you pound into me? Stretching me more than my fingers ever could?"

"Until you're bruised and sore," he promised breathlessly.

His hips began to lift from the bed as he fucked into his left hand, steadying himself on his right forearm. It was impossible for him to lift his jaw closed with the way he felt, his eyes nearly rolling back into the back of his head. Your free hand groped your breasts as your skin burned from his words.

"Are you close, Hamzah?" you asked, familiar with his signs. "Don't you dare cum yet, baby."

"I'm trying," he said through gritted teeth. "I never last long when you're l-like that."

"I love it," you gasped as shocks of electricity coursed through your veins. "Such a mess, all because of me."

"'Cause of you," he echoed, incapable of forming his own thoughts from the pleasure.

The both of your moans filled the air, pushing each other closer to completion. Hamzah's quivering voice, ever so expressive, shouted expletives as he slowly came undone. The pain in your neck went ignored as you took in the pathetic state of him, cumming into his fist and all over himself. His eyes were screwed up as his hips jolted in unison with every spurt of white that left his glossy tip.

Your climax took place soon after he came back down from the clouds, allowing him to watch as your thighs were saturated with your own arousal. He tirelessly pumped his shaft, wanting to ride out every last bit of satisfaction he could from you calling out his name. When your eyes opened and saw him, you shook your hips side to side, letting him ogle you a little longer.

You crashed to the bed and brought the laptop up so you could observe the way he cleaned himself up with a tissue from his nightstand. Your chests rose up and down, trying to oxygenate your lungs after being so breathless for so long. His happy trail was dampened, lying flat against his skin as he swiped away the last bits of moisture from his stomach.

Silently, you rose with trembling legs to grab the closest cloth to clean up your own mess. When you began wiping your inner thighs with your bunched up panties, Hamzah groaned. You bit your lip and bent over to shake your ass, your reddened pussy on display.

"Is it bad I wanted to lick my screen?" he exhaled as you sat back down, not bothering to put any clothes on.

"Stop," you giggled.

"Mail them to me."

"What?" You were still trying to catch your breath.

"Your...panties." The word sounded more obscene leaving his lips.

"I'll have to wash them first—"

"No." He shook his head, resting his hands on his sweaty torso. "Just send them."

"You're filthy," you gasped, grabbing the moisture-laden garment up from the carpet and holding it up. "What do you want them for?"

His cheeks suddenly flushed and you smirked, twirling the lace in your fingers. "You know."

A lazy smile spread across his face as he leaned his head to rest on his bicep, exhaustion beginning to hit him. It was a really fucked up ego boost—having him so obsessed with you—but up until then you’d never actually felt the rhythm of your heartbeat falter from his words. He didn’t know his words affected you that much, and even less did he know that he was the only client you actually managed to orgasm with.

“Five hundred.”

“Dollars?” Your brows shot up.

“No, pesos,” he joked, eyes half-lidded.

“Do you know the things I’ve done for that kinda money?”

“I don’t care.” He shrugged.

Behind a screen, he was different. Something like an alter ego would be unleashed, an audacious character he certainly didn’t behave like in public spaces. He didn’t have to worry about being found out because of his digital anonymity (as anonymous as you can be with your whole face and dick out). In the real world he was an introverted loner, but here, in the darkness of his room with only the LCD screen illuminating his figure, he was free to act as he pleased.

Besides, in the presence of you, he was basically a saint.

“Okay,” you finally said.

“Okay?”

“I’ll send them over.”

“Can’t wait.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes from the acceptance of his offer.

“Try not to look so smug, angel.”

The call ended abruptly and as the light in front of him dimmed, he realized he was getting hard again in anticipation of receiving the parcel.

~

a/n: i’m realizing i can just post whatever i want on here so here’s this lil idea ive been hiding away for a while!! hope u enjoyed freaks <3