#so they played like this stupid video game or something and if they got enough points they learned a fun fact

[horrorsequel]

i love making people who care about video games deal with me (guy who refuses to stop loving bioshock 2)

[crowjodojocasahouse]

you ever have a dream that's so strange but like still sort of realistic that you wake up slightly disoriented and struggling to connect with reality

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument pt.2

pt1 here

pt3 here

love and deepspace

characters: Rafayel, Xavier

Rafayel

Stubborn, petty, and a total brat are the words that perfectly describe Rafayel during arguments. It doesn’t help that you’re as stubborn as he is, but most of the time you manage to find the middle ground. Except tonight. Tonight is the night you got fed up with his attitude and the argument it caused was just awful. For an hour, both of you argued something so stupid but he wasn’t backing down and at this point, it was getting so tiring you just wanted to put an end to this.

“You know what” You throw your hands in the air “I’m done. I’m going to sleep”

Rafayel scoffed muttering something about you running away from an argument under his breath. However, his face dropped when he saw you entering the living room with a pillow and a blanket. He rushed to you with such an offended look.

“Excuse me?”

“What?” You barked at him.

“Wha- seriously? what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Child’s tantrum, honestly”

You stopped making the bed on the couch and just looked at him unimpressed. The gesture made Rafayel scoff once again and retreat from you.

“You want to be petty? be my guest. I’m going to sleep in our room, in our bed”

With that, he left you and slammed his door on his way.

“Such a child” you mutter and lay down on the couch, too agitated to sleep, replaying the argument in your mind over and over. You both said horrible things to each other and you wanted to run to him and apologize, but what hurt more than an argument is how he left you here and he, himself, went to sleep. After hours of beating yourself up for tonight’s events, you finally fell asleep not knowing Rafayel was staring at the ceiling of the bedroom feeling just as guilty if not more. Also, he hates to admit it, but he cannot sleep without you, so with a defeated sigh he made a decision.

Sunlight stirs you awake in the morning. Your neck is sore from an uncomfortable position on the couch. With a groan, you turn around and open your eyes to be startled by a purple ball right into your face. Blinking, to adjust your eyesight you realise it’s Rafayel’s head. He’s sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the couch and a blanket around his shoulders.

“You have to be kidding me” you mutter with disbelief “Rafayel”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes as he opened them.

“Oh, hi”

You just look at him dumbfounded before bursting out laughing.

“Shut up, will you?” He grumbled.

“Oh my god, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He stayed silent and got up from the floor, with you following his suit.

“To what? to admit you were right? kind of… I mean you were wrong in some aspects… okay, fine you were right… and what else? to admit I couldn’t sleep without you?” He avoided your eyes and you couldn’t miss the blush spreading on his cheeks “Because I couldn’t… sleep without you, I mean”

You pinch his cheek before kissing him making his already red face even more red.

“I’m sorry too”

He quickly regained his composure walking past you.

“Yeah, yeah… c’mon let’s make breakfast”

And you follow him with a chuckle.

Xavier

You have to try really hard to have an argument with Xavier. Both of you are in perfect sync and hardly ever disagree with each other. Therefore, arguments are rare. But not nonexistent. Take tonight, for example. Xavier doesn’t need shouting and screaming to get his point through. His face devoid of any expression and cold voice make good enough job. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re on fire, and his calm nature, reassuring other times, only fuels your fire. Finally, you make the decision that you don’t want to spend any more time with him tonight… or until you calm down. So you take your blanket and set up a makeshift bed on the couch.

Xavier doesn’t pay you any mind. He didn’t even notice you reentering the living room as he started playing his video game to unwind from the previous argument. An hour passes, then another. At last, he’s had enough and turned off the video game you’ve been cursing in your mind past hour. He expects you to be asleep in your room so imagine his confusion when he sees you on the couch, still not asleep. Xavier then shrugs before going to the bedroom and coming back with his pajamas on.

“Move” he says when he walks up to you.

You turn to him.

“What?”

“Move, I’m sleepy”

“Then go to sleep”

“I’m trying to, but you won’t move” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a moment of hesitation, you move to make room for him. He silently slides under the blanket and since the couch is too small for both of you, he positions you in a way that you’re lying on top of him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I couldn’t sleep”

His hand started to caress the back of your head.

“Because you’re mad at me?”

“Because I’m mad at you”

A sigh escapes his lips.

“I didn’t mean… whatever I said. I don’t know, I don’t even remember what I said”

That made you giggle.

“Neither do I. But I’m sorry… for what I said”

“Yeah, me too”

You both stay silent after that. His hand stops caressing you after a while.

“We can go to bed if you want to”

You suggest but a soft snore Xavier releases lets you know that it won’t happen, so you just accept your fate.

[witherby]

I love your Littlest Wayne AU! I've binge read pretty much everything twice by now. Poor Bruce.

I keep thinking of when Littlest Wayne learned to walk. Like, Imagine Damian or Jason had to leave for something and got up, and LW was like we aren't done here and stumbles to their feet. Then the whole Batfam watches as LW walk up and hugs their leg so they can't escape. Or Bruce can get a rare W and they were following him.

We rag on Bruce so much in the Littlest Wayne au I feel like he actually deserves this win.

You're in the day room turned play room. You're crawling around so fast. You're zippin and zoomin. You're drive-by chomping on Bruce's ankles. It's a beautiful day.

Bruce is making a game of it. Kind of. By god he is so tired of teeth marks in his ankles. Anyway he walks a couple feet away to another part of the room. He waits. You come zoomin. You attack!!!!!

He walks another couple feet away to another part of the room. He waits. You come zoomin. You attack!!!!

He walks another couple feet, and then keeps walking because you're not done!!!!! Here comes Flittermouse with the baby teeth!!!!!!! It's time to chow the fuck down!!!!!!!!!!

Baby you are getting tired. Your dad needs to accept his fate already, and your teeth hurt. You need his good good flesh to gnaw on.

You huff and babble at him, making grabby hands. Bruce smiles and shakes his head. You make grabby hands harder. He refuses!!!! Betrayal!!!!

Rage overcomes you. You release a war cry that sounds like an excited baby squealing, which it's not. But don't get it twisted, your dad should be cowering in his slippers right now, not pulling out his phone to snap pictures of you.

Enough!! If Daddy gets to use his stupid long legs to walk away, you get to use yours to chase him! The time of rug burn on your hands and knees is coming to and end! You will strike fear into his heart as you launch yourself at him!!!!

Bruce coos and takes a video of you clumsily pulling yourself to your feet on the edge of the small, coloring table.

"Is it happening? Are you gonna try to walk? Look at you go!"

You release another happy squeal war cry and launch yourself at your foe. One step! Two steps! Another one step because you don't know your numbers yet!!! Perhaps another two step if you're feeling froggy!!!!! GET THOSE ANKLES READY DAD!!!!!

Gravity, your greatest enemy, topples your conquest four and a half steps in. You plop to the floor and Bruce makes a sympathetic "uh oh!" from across the room. It's time to employ your last-ditch strategy and throw your cards down.

You make the motion for Uppies and start crying. Bruce sweeps you into his arms and you imMEDIATELY BITE HIS WRIST HAHAHAHAA!!!!!! The foolish fool!!!! That was the oldest trick in the book!!! You'd know that if you knew how to read, but still!!!! Victory!!!!!!!!

[leaawrites]

Freaked Out

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando makes his relationship official via Live stream

Warnings: mentions of an engagement, use of Y/n

Masterlist

The lights were low. There was no sound but the breathing in sync of two people deep into thoughts. Two hours went by of lying in the same bed with no eyes closed.

“Are you sure you want to stay with me?” Lando asked, his hand gliding through the hair of the person beside him. She hummed, snuggling deeper into his chest. Inhaling his scent like it would be the last time. “I mean, are you really sure? You can’t walk with me around all holding hands and you have to put up with all those stupid rumors about a life you know ain’t true.”

“Lando,” she mused, propping her head on her hands and looking up at him. “I’ve put up with all this for god knows how long. This doesn’t change anything.” His eyes lingered on her hand a little longer, smiling at the shimmering light reflecting on the diamond.

“Two and a half years,” he said, reminding her on how long they’ve been together. Still surprised at how long they got to keep their relationship in private, away from the media and all of those people around them.

It might seem rather fast, but nothing ever felt as right as asking her to marry him. Nothing ever made him feel so sure of himself as when she said yes. The reminder that he had someone who loved him. The knowing that someone was willing to put up with him forever. It made him feel safe.

“Are you sure you wanna keep it a secret? Keep us a secret?” Lando asked, playing with the ring on her finger.

“I’ll be yours in silence for however long you want me to,” she said, laying her head back down, soothing his chest with kisses.

Lando didn’t answer, he couldn’t. There was never a moment when he didn’t want to just post a pic of the two kissing or making put or whatever it is that will make everyone know that he was a happy man with her. But he knew it wouldn’t work that way. There will always be some crazy fans, offended at the though of him having a future with anyone but them. He felt guilty for not showing her off like he’d want to. It weighed him down day by day, though he knew it was worth it. When he came home from a race weekend and wanted nothing but held, he knew her arms would already be open as he walked through the door. She was everything he wanted. She was more than he deserved.

Being a man, chronically online, Lando knew about almost every trend going around the world. No exception for the one McLaren just posted with Oscar as their star in the spotlight.

“Hey guys,” Lando spoke into the phone as he walked into the living room of his home in Monaco. His girlfriend didn’t look up, already used to him walking around the apartment when he talked on the phone with someone. “Can you watch my girlfriend while I set my sim up?”

Lando placed the phone on the coffee table, camera facing his girlfriend who worked on something on her laptop. At the familiar sentence structure, she looked up, her head following the boy, who walked into his game room.

“What the-” she started saying, before being cut off by Lando putting his head out of the room.

“You can’t swear, I’m still a PR-nightmare, you can’t be one as well,” he yelled out to her, before disappearing again.

“Hello?” The girl said, looking at the screen in front of her. At first she thought it was a normal video, though soon enough she saw the endless comments of unknown people flood the screen. Her eyes widen at the sudden realization of what just happened. “You’re live? Are you kidding me?” She yelled at the boy, who burst out laughing in the other room. He came rushing out, snatching his phone back and reading through the comments of very surprised fans, to say the least.

“Sorry, guys. Sorry,” Lando spoke to the people, still giggling at his little prank and his girlfriends grimace. “Not my girlfriend.”

That made her look at him, a mischievous look in his eyes as he smirked, looking at her and not the screen which was filled with freaked out people. Some saying, “Good lord, thank god. I just had a heart attack, thinking he really cheated on me.” And some saying, “That’s sad, she’s really pretty.”

“My fiancee,” he corrected himself, smiling at her. The girl in front of him, couldn’t help her own smile forming on her lips. Then he ended the live, leaving the people shocked and the world stuck in questions.

“What have you done, Norris?” Y/n asked, pulling her fiance down on the sofa with her.

“I’m not hiding you anymore,” he simply said, snuggling in the nape of her neck and peppering it with small, soft kisses.

[blue-jisungs]

soft-hearted jealousy

#author's note ... i love wonwoo so fucking much did i ever guys tell u that. anywho this one is for zanzan bc i got inspired when we watched the kode ep <//3 and big big biiiig shout out to my beloved @l3visbby for proofreading <3 love u mother

#summary ... you're a little jealous of wonwoo n kerias frienship<//3

#word count ... 986

pssst the fic is referencing this cute vid:( wonwoo looked so good in it btw like what the actual fuck. also keria is my height and i fainted when i saw them hug bye

the door opened with a soft click and then all you could hear was soft patting of wonwoo’s footsteps against the wooden floor. 

sighing, you switched youtube to instagram and tried to act unbothered. but how could you? a reel of a new video featuring your fiancé popped out. a video you have just watched and it made you… a little jealous. 

“bedroom?” wonwoo called, trying to locate you. 

“yea” you hummed back, loudly enough for him to hear you. scrolling down, you noticed another reel. 

the love of your life with a cute, gamer boy. 

puffing your cheeks, you decided to exit instagram as well and check if you had any mails or texts. 

wonwoo entered the room, a small crease between his brows. 

“is everything alright, darling?” he asked, voice smooth as honey. which pissed you off even more. how dares he sound so attractive when you’re mad at him? 

“yes” you grunted a little too sulkily, drawing his attention. 

“oh really? because you didn’t run up to me once i entered the house” wonwoo teased and walked up to the bed, stretching his arms. you lost the battle with yourself and watched him, biting the inside of your cheek. how could one look so good in a plain white t-shirt and jeans? 

“yeah, im fine. how was your day?” you sighed and looked away once you saw he noticed your gaze. with a small smirk, he laid down next to you. the mattress dipped under his weight but that restored the balance – it somehow felt empty when he wasn’t there before. 

“it was good. me and mingyu did a live… i talked to my new friend… we might play a bit today” he answered, eyes tracing your face “oh, the video is out! did you see it?”

you hated how excited he was. and how much you liked it. keria is… 

“cute. i liked it” you mumbled and turned his back to him, fighting a smile. this is ridiculous. 

but it’s just not fair that wonwoo looked so handsome in that video and threw some flirty comments. he was so cocky in it too… 

“cute? yeah, keria is so adorable” wonwoo chuckled and you looked at him through your arm, shooting him a glare “what? what is it?” 

“nothing” you grunted. wonwoo’s lips broke into a grin, finally figuring you out. 

“something is clearly wrong. come on, talk to me” he purred, his hand sneaking its way under your t-shirt. 

“you looked good in the vid” grunting, you tried to surpass a smile. the warmth of his skin on yours sent shivers down your spine but your tried to remain calm. and not fold. 

“really? thank you, darling. keria said he liked my jacket” your fiancé hummed and leaned a bit closer, fingers tapping gently against your ribs. 

you couldn’t control the huff that left your lips. 

“we got along really well, i like his company. he’s so sweet” wonwoo continued to tease you and apparently that did the trick. 

“if he’s so sweet why don’t you date him, hm?” murmuring, you tried to hide your face in the pillow. wonwoo’s fingers ghosting over your skin in a circular motion made you melt, making it impossible not to crack.

“oh?” 

“forget it. go play your stupid games” you scoffed and wanted to move further away from him but wonwoo was quicker. he pulled you closer, calloused hands resting on your hips. 

“are you, perhaps… and i might be wrong here… jealous?” wonwoo’s cat-like adorned his features and you turned around, finally facing him. ebony eyes looking at you with amusement but also love, so much love, in them.

“yes, you’re wrong” you finally broke and cracked a smile, poking his buff chest. wonwoo tenderly grabbed your hand, placing it flat against his chest. his heartbeat softly drummed beneath your palm, making heat rise to your cheeks.

“come on, you know i would never…” he started and you shook your head. 

“it’s stupid and not that serious” you whined, covering your face with your other hand “it’s not the way you were… so flirty… and charming…”

“oh, pretty” wonwoo laughed wholeheartedly, the warm sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom. 

you leaned closer and hid your face in his chest, the smell of cologne filling your nostrils. his tender hands moved to the back of your neck, massaging it gently. 

“i made my angel jealous… by talking to my friend?” wonwoo sighed dramatically and you could hear the smile blooming on his lips. 

“it wasn’t just talking! you were so flirty…” your voice was a bit muffled by the material of his t-shirt “or i just… don’t know. you were really something that day, you know? so what if i’m a little jealous, i just don’t want to share you with the world… that much” 

wonwoo’s heart skipped a beat and he observed how you raised your head up. eyes meeting his, cheeks dusted with pink. you were so cute like that… cuter than keria. 

“can i make it up to you?” he hummed, hands trailing to cup your face. 

“a kiss. and no flirting with others, even if it’s a cute guy” you pouted and wonwoo leaned, capturing your soft lips in a sweet kiss. 

before you had a chance to deepen the kiss, he leaned away with a small frown. 

“but you do admit he’s cute, right?” your fiancé asked and you smacked his chest lightly.

“i wish we could adopt him” you laughed, and a grin formed on wonwoo’s face. 

“i’m afraid he’s a little too old for that…'' hiding his face in your hair, you decided to wrap your arms around his waist. 

“he’s 21… still a baby…” you huffed and shortly after, the sound of your laughs mixed in harmony. you guessed you might forgive him, it wasn’t really serious in the first place. 

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,,@mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee

[biteyoubiteme]

calendar

seungmin x fem!reader

synopsis: you walk in on your best friend getting off with your name on his lips.

warnings: 🔞!!! slight nipple play, no protection, mentions of masturbation (m!) prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2.2k

an: thank you so much for requesting izzy! ilysm for this one I hope I did it justice :))))) also this is not proofread will you bestow mercy on a poor soul like me? please?

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

The two of you keep a huge whiteboard calendar on the fridge. A discarded pack of colorful markers was kept in the magnetic cup next to the handle, the sounding rattle synonymous with the closing of the door. Every month the two of you got together to fill out your class schedules, events, holidays, vacations, or just chores. It made both of your lives easier, the two of you knew exactly when the other was going to be late home, fewer arguments over who does what to keep the place clean, and when it was best to just fit in a full series binge on the couch together. 

Or it was supposed to work that way and for the most part, it did. But last week when the two of you hosted a study night with all your friends that devolved into just casual drinks and video games, half the board was erased when someone bumped into the fridge. Neither of you minded, trying the best you could to write in the parts that had been messed up, not giving it much thought at all until you finally hit the week that had been completely erased and rewritten. 

Seungmin missed a paper that was due, both of your laundry days ended up written for the same day, and you were now rushing out the door to make it to your presentation. You hadn't started the day so stressed, not until you rolled out of bed and opened the fridge to pull out something to eat for breakfast. As soon as you closed the door, markers shaking around reminding you to check the calendar, you noticed the messy star you had drawn on the date, and under it project due! Presentation @ 9:30.

It was like a bucket of ice water was thrown over you, no caffeine needed for how away you suddenly felt looking at the clock on the microwave, blinking back that it was already half past eight and it took you 30 minutes to make it to campus. 

Your string of curse words was what woke Seungmin. The rushed sound of the bathroom faucet turning on while you brushed your teeth was the soundtrack to his morning. He was still rubbing at his eyes, hair a sleep-turned mess on top of his head, when he watched you from the doorway. You were frantically rummaging through the dryer for a pair of jeans, only coming away with articles of Seungmin’s clothing. “What is this? Why is all my laundry also your laundry?” 

“I don't know,” he yawns, face scrunching up right along the bridge of his nose, “I think it all got tossed into the dryer together because mine didn't dry right,” 

You huffed, finally tugging out something that was yours to wear, “I'm going to be late,” it was said right on the edge of a whine, “stupid calendar, stupid early class, I'm never taking a course against that starts before I can think properly about school,” you didn't even care that he was right there as you pushed down your sweatpants. Working on putting one leg into your jeans as you kept complaining. 

The two of you had been living together for most of your time at school, the two of you close enough now that nothing phased the other. It wasn't like changing in front of your best friend was uncommon but it still caught Seungmin off guard every time. He turned to give you some sort of privacy but the way the bathroom/laundry was set up only made it so that he turned to look directly into the mirror. And there you were with your jeans getting caught right under your ass, pushing up and only highlighting the way your panties clung to your skin. 

It was momentary, so fast that you were already zipping your zipper and rushing past him to grab your bag. “I won't be back till one!” you call over your shoulder, not trusting the calendar to update him anymore. 

You didn't even realize until halfway to campus when calling your partner to apologize for the delay that your calendar wasn't just messed up with the day's events but the day itself. It wouldn't be until you got home that you saw that the whole week was one day off, so when you turned around feeling slightly better after your little shock, it felt like you had a whole free day. Not even texting Seungmin about the mistake you drove to pick up coffees for the both of you, knowing he would enjoy the pick me up without question. Then you could spend the rest of the day separating your laundry so tomorrow you could wear something less rushed. 

But Seungmin had the same idea, picking through the dryer trying to find anything that was his so that he could get it out of your way. That's when he finds the twin pair of panties to the ones you had on right now. He could see it play out again in his head, the way they hugged your hips, and outlined the shape of you. 

He told himself his crush on you wouldn't become a big deal after you two moved in with each other. He assumed that just having you so close so often would be enough for him to grow out of it faster. He believed it because he would have had less time to daydream about how you would react to him and more time in reality where you would surely put him into his palace without question. Only it didn't seem to work out that well. 

The two of you were constantly on the edge of flirting, sitting so close on the couch you were basically on top of one another, every little brush past each other like a confession. Or it was for him because his crush only got worse with the move; solidifying into something that he knew would never easily dissipate without the hottest of burns. 

It wasn't rare that he let himself get this wrapped up in the idea of being with you, less so the idea of being with you physically. And now you're gone for the next few hours and he has the perfect image of you in his head. 

He doesn't even hear when you get home, didn't even think to close his bedroom door before his hand was down his pants. He could picture you calling out his name, his eyes closed, head leaning back on his pillows, your name on the tip of his tongue as he moaned. 

When you come in and place the coffees down you hear him call you. Your first instinct is to change the calendar until you hear him call you again. He sounds almost in pain, the desperation drawing you down the hall. “Seungmin?” 

When you get to the doorway you're stopped dead in your tracks. His needy little whines echo in his room, adam's apple bobbing, every stroke of his hand on his cock pulling your eyes in. You should be ashamed for enjoying the view, should have backed away, and pretended you never came home. But with him right in front of you, naked and calling out your name it's impossible to not feel yourself get wet. It's embarrassing how easily flushed you feel, but when his hips start to move, effectively thrusting into his waiting fist, stomach flexing, you can't help but rub your thighs together. 

It's the creaking of the floorboards that makes him open his eyes. His hand fell away from his straining cock, his uneven breaths trying to catch up to the beating of his heart. You're not even looking him in the eyes, you're watching the way his cock is twitching, thoroughly edged now that you've walked in, his hips still moving, wishing so badly to be thrusting into you instead. 

“I'm sorry-” the both of you start at the same time, he can't even cover himself knowing a brush of fabric or his hand will make him cum instantly unless he calms down. He can't even think about how ashamed he should be when getting caught, all he can think about is those panties you're wearing under your jeans. 

It's only one second later and you're tugging them down your legs, pants too tight now, the seam pressing right against your clit like it knows you want him whether he touches you or not. He's whimpering at the sight, wet patch visible enough to make his eyes roll back. 

Damn the consequences of your actions you climb into bed with him. 

“What- we shouldn’t- you don’t have to-” he starts but stops when he watches you take off your bra, nipples already pebbled and waiting for his touch. 

“If you don’t want to have sex with me just say so,” even just hearing the words ‘sex’ from your mouth has his dick twitching again. 

“I need to have sex with you,” he reaches out for you, pulling you down to straddle him, your clothed pussy pressed right against his veiny shaft, the both of you moaning out for one another. He sits up, hands sliding up your back as he looks up at you; puppy dog eyes already begging for more. 

You push his hair back from his brow, threading your fingers into the strands, his hazy smile mirroring your own. “Do you usually think about me when you touch yourself or did I just catch you on a good day?” 

“I'm always thinking about you,” he breathes, pulling your lips to his. The kiss turns sloppy almost as soon as it's started, your hips working against him enough to draw every little sound from him. When he starts to kiss down your neck you lift your hips enough to push your panties to the side for him. 

Your hand on his cock guiding his tip to your entrance makes him curse, finally sinking into you, all your wetness making it so easy, the stretch leaving you gasping. Both of you wrapped up in each other's arms as you try to catch your breath from the new sensations. It's intoxicating to feel him this deep, your dragging hips pushing him right against your gummy walls. 

His mouth peppers kisses down your chest, catching one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue, moaning when you squeeze around him. Your knees are digging into the mattress as you try to bounce on him, thighs burning. His hands slide down to cup your ass, helping you move up and down on him. His lashes flutter with each drag in and out of you, better than he could have ever imagined or replicated with his hand. 

Letting go of your nipple he watches your face now adorned in blissful pleasure. He feels his orgasm building but not as fast as he wants. He falls back against the pillows, pulling you with him, one of your hands catching yourself next to his head, he holds you in place as he digs his feet into the sheets, thrusting up in this new position. 

“Oh my god-” you're finding it hard to even speak, now every thrust is pressed against your g-spot, the tip of his cock knocking over and over until you're almost shaking. With your free hand, you reach down between you two, fingers circling your clit as Seungmin twists your panties into his fist trying to find as much leverage as possible to keep his fast pace. 

“Look at me,” he’s begging, needing to know you're right on the cusp with him, the slapping wet sounds ringing out around you two. “Please I want to see your pretty face when you cum for me,” 

The request alone has you falling over the edge, the silent open-mouthed moan caught on your lips pulling him right along with you. He's a mess of whiny cries, sloppy thrusts slowing down as he tries to push his hips as close as he can get them to yours. Not even caring about having finished inside you when he feels this good.

Your arm gives out as you bury your face into his neck, your hot breath fanning over his sweat-sheened skin. The two of you instantly break out into giggles, the absurdity of the situation only just settling in while he's still twitching inside you. 

“Holy shit,” he chuckles, fingers dragging over your bare back like he can't believe you're really here in his post nut clarity. 

“I know, I can't believe you’ve been just across the hall this whole time and I'm just now finding out the dick was this good,” 

“If I'd known you would have helped out I would have left the door open a long time ago. But what are you even doing at home right now?” 

“The calendar was all messed up, no thanks to you, you said you took care of it!” 

“I did! Or I thought I did,”

you roll your eyes even if he can't see, and you leave another kiss right over his pulse, “well it doesn't matter, what does matter is that we should definitely schedule sex on the the calendar next time,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[66stitches]

dating abby headcanons

Art by fjorgust on instagram

Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

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꩜ She isn’t super big on pda, but does little stuff like grab your hand or give you occasional kisses on the forehead just to remind you of how she loves you (and to let everyone know you’re hers).

꩜ With that being said, she’s all over you once you’re home.

꩜ Absolutely loves lazy morning cuddles and kisses far more than she’d like to admit.

꩜ I just know she listens to dad music. Definitely a big fan of The Offspring.

꩜ Loves to spoil her girl, but even though she doesn’t admit it, she secretly loves being spoiled and coddled as well.

꩜ Has a pretty high pain tolerance, but would sometimes exaggerate her pain just so you’d coddle and baby her, especially when she’s on her period.

And you know she’s fibbing, but you knew that if you confronted her she would immediately deny it and get super defensive (which is how you know she’s lying).

But you love babying her, so you’re more than happy to play along.

꩜ She snores, but it’s pretty soft and light, so you don’t really mind at all. It’s actually pretty comforting.

꩜ Shares her coin collection with you. You don’t really get the fascination, but seeing her ramble on passionately about what new coins she found only makes you fall in love deeper.

꩜ Reads classics. A huge fan of Dostoevsky. But also she loves nonfictions.

꩜ Absolutely sucks at video games. If you play, she’ll ask if she can try, only to get your character killed like five seconds later then complain that “something’s up with your controller.”

꩜ Loves having her hair played with. She would have trouble sleeping sometimes, but once your fingers are on those golden strands of hers she’s out like a light, already softly snoring into the pillow.

꩜ Sleeps completely naked with you. Not for any sexual purpose, but just feeling her bare skin against yours as you’re sleeping makes her feel closer to you than ever. It’s an innocently intimate and loving moment she likes to share with you.

Honestly just imagine cuddling to sleep at night completely naked. Everything is quiet and you’re peppering sleepy kisses on each other’s face, neck, shoulders, and rubbing each other’s arms and back 'til you fall asleep oh god I’m SICK.

꩜ This woman is in love with sitcoms and I will not be elaborating any further.

꩜ Claims she doesn’t like cats, but once came home like an hour late because she got caught up playing with a stray cat. Refused to tell you the real reason why she was late.

꩜ Cracks the dumbest jokes you’ve ever heard that only put a smile on your face because of how stupid they are and how cute she is when she says them.

Remember that scene where she was trying to joke around with Lev but she’s just super bad at it and he didn’t even try to play along? “You know our dogs can play cards like that?” Yeah, she does that with you too.

꩜ Cries after arguments (canon) but can’t stand people seeing her cry. She’s a pretty emotional person methinks.

꩜ Loves festivities. Will go all out on christmas and halloween, decorating the entire place and buying gifts (pesters you with questions about what you got her).

꩜ Pesto. She loves it on everything.

꩜ Loves massages. Back, shoulders, feet, scalp. Loves them all and only wants them from you.

꩜ A caregiver. (If you’re on meds), she’ll always make sure you take them and take them at the right time. She ensures that you eat three meals a day and get enough sleep, and even doesn’t let you stay up for too long. She just wants her girl to stay healthy.

꩜ She’s a total book hoarder. She promises not to buy another book 'til she’s done reading the ones she has, only for you to find a paper bag with ten new books the next day.

꩜ Loves you endlessly and has your entire wedding planned out in her head. She knows exactly what songs she wants to play and how she wants your dresses to look.

[hitomisuzuya]

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants—apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You’re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

[hiiikiko]

𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖘𝖔 𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉, 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖑

[popular!reader x loser/nerd!ellie]

tlou m.list

tw: dom!reader to sub!reader, bullying, drunk reader and drunk ellie, name calling, degradation, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, reader receiving head, fingering, pet play (????), and praise

ིྀ 𓎟ᛝ𓎟𓎟　†　𓎟𓎟ᛝ𓎟 ྀི

It’s not that you hated Ellie, you really didn’t care about her one way or the other. The only time that you really interacted with her was in chem, after all the two of you were in two completely worlds. You were the ‘queen bee,’ everyone adored you. You’re pretty, cute, and popular well Ellie on the other hand… like, sure she’s pretty but she’s a nerd, a dweeb, a loser, a geek. She preferred to stay at home and study while you liked to cruise the town with whichever girl you were hooking up with that week. Ellie enjoyed playing dumb video games while you liked to hang out at that diner down town with your friends. She was in AV club, you were a cheerleader. She was an honour roll student and you were voted ‘most popular’ in every yearbook.

Actually, you liked picking on her, picking on the nerd was one of the only cliche ‘mean girl stereotypes’ you’d allow yourself. It’s not like she couldn’t handle it. You can’t count how many times you pushed her up against the lockers just to tease her for watching you change, how many times you ‘accidentally’ spilled your drink on her, etc, etc. I mean, you couldn’t help it! She was fun to mess with. Why? Maybe it was the way she’d always have a snarky comeback or the way her cheeks would flush a bit whenever you got a little too close.

You think you like her if because she’s all too reminiscent of a dog, with her messy hair, that goofy smile she’d wear whenever a girl approached her, her disheveled clothing that made it look like she’d raided Kurt Cobain’s closet, how she’d whine whenever you slammed her into a locker like a kicked puppy and the way you could practically see the outline of a tail wagging behind her when you did so.

It was like she was your cute little mutt.

Actually, you were surprised she was even talking to you, maybe it was because it’s the end of the year, a week away from graduation that she decided to man up and talk to you or maybe it was the loud music and the large amount of liquid courage flooding her system.

“You know, you really aren’t all that,” she drunkenly slurred at you, waving her half full solo cup in your face as you leaned against your desk. Ellie had shown up to your party, surprisingly, had gotten a few beers into her system and followed you up the stairs into your room because she had a ‘bone to pick’ with you. She was a complete mess, her eyes a little glassy, that stupid mullet disheveled from her drunken antics, and her cheeks either flushed pink from the alcohol in her system or the face that you had leaned into her face, your lips a few centimetres from hers.

“Is that so Williams?” you narrowed your eyes at her and furrowed your eyebrows, “If I’m ‘not all that,’ then why are you here right now, huh? At my house, at my party, in my room?”

“Pfft, you think I’m here for you?” She scoffed and took another swig of her beer, a stray drop of beer dripping past her lips onto her chin, she quickly wiped it off onto her wrinkled flannel.

“They why are you here, hm? You haven’t shown up to a single party in the four years I’ve known you and all of a sudden, you just decide to show up to a party at the end of the school year? At my party?” You laugh sarcastically and cross your arms.

“So, you payed enough attention to me to note that I haven’t been to a single party all year?” Her lips curled into a smirk and she leaned against your bed, “I’m flattered.”

‘God, she’s even more annoying when she’s drunk.’

Your cheeks flushed pink a bit at her observation. Of course you had noticed but it wasn’t because you wanted to notice, it just had been something that you noticed over the past four years. You couldn’t help it or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes and shake your head, there’s no use arguing with a drunk person.

“But seriously, what the hell is your problem, huh? You’re just like… you’re such a mean person, what did I ever do to you, huh?!” She averts her gaze to the grown and her cheeks flushed red. She’s a little clumsy, most likely from not being able to hold her drink.

Frankly, you were a little surprised. This little nerd that you had bullied relentlessly for years was now drunkenly chewing you out, albeit with a blush over her cheeks and nose.

You roll your eyes again and take a sip of your drink.

She stumbles a bit as she takes another step towards you, obviously very drunk which is very unlike her, “God, you just, ugh, you suck,” a small hiccup escaping her lips.

You roll your eyes, “Come on, I wasnt that bad.”

Ellie lets out a snort, rolling her eyes as she wobbled forward, “Not that bad? You were awful to me,” she slurred and jabbed a finger into your chest.

“What did I do that was so awful then?” you narrowed your eyes and took a step closer, her finger still on your chest.

She took a step back, hitting the bed behind her and hiccuped softly as her eyes lingered on the smirk on your lips, “Where should I start? No, you know what? I-I don’t have to tell you shit! You’re just a godawful person.”

A bit of drool dripped down her chin, you couldn’t help but reach out and rub it away with your thumb, “Is that so?”

She flinches slightly as you reach out, her cheeks turning even more red. She swallows hard, trying to hold herself upright but her legs are as shaky as a newborn deer’s, “Yes, i-it is so,” she manages to grumble out, her voice a bit shaky and her eyes half-lidded. She tries to glare down at you but it’s getting harder for her to keep eye contact.

“Then, I suppose you also think you didn’t deserve it?”

“I definitely didn’t deserve it!” she drunkenly hiccups out, “I was just trying to make it through school and you just had to make it ten times harder!”

She stumbles forward, ending up right in front of you, her hands clumsily grabbing onto your shirt to keep herself balanced, your arms instinctively grabbing onto her arms to steady her, you can smell the alcohol on her breath, “You made my life a living hell.”

Your cheeks flush a light pink as she balls the fabric of your shirt into her hands, you had never really noticed how strong she was or how her green eyes looked even brighter in this lighting, or—.

“Then how come you never fought back, huh? You could easily pummel me into the ground or you could’ve told a teacher,” you scowl at her.

“B-because, I’m not like that,” she grumbles, her cheeks. glowing in the dim lighting, it’s obvious there’s more to her reasoning.

“You sure that’s the only reason?”

She swallowed hard, her gaze softening for a moment, “I also… I,” she hiccuped again, unable to find the right words to say, she leans forward and places her forehead against your shoulder, “I just.. couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

She thanks the gods that you can’t see how deeply red her cheeks are, “Wouldn’t..”

You’re at a lost for words, finally you manage to choke out, “W-Why?”

She hiccuped into the crook of your neck, the grip on your shirt tightening almost like she was trying to ground herself, “I just… ugh, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.. sure, you’re a complete bitch but like, also you’re really fucking hot,” she mumbles against you, her soft lips brushing against the senstive skin of your neck.

Your eyes go wide as she admits that, “So what.. y-you have a crush on me?”

She dryly chuckles into your neck before pulling away, “You’re stuttering.”

“You’re imagining things,” you huff and pull her hands off me, “Stop that, you’re going to wrinkle my shirt,” you grumble.

Ellie giggles softly, a mixture of drunkenness and teasing in her voice, “Come on, you’re no fun,” her hands rest on your waist this time, “I was just teasing.. you can dish it out but can’t handle it?”

She buries her face back into the crook of your neck, her breath is warm against your skin, “You smell good,” she mutters before gently laying a kiss onto you.

A chill runs down your spine as her lips meets your neck, the feeling of her soft, warn mouth against your sensitive skin causes your breath to hitch.

“Get off of me, you freak,” you stammer but make no effort to push her off of you.

She doesn’t move, instead continuing to kiss you, her kisses getting hungrier, her body now pressed up against yours, “You’re such a dick,” she murmurs and nips at your neck.

You let out a small gasp as she bites at your neck, her bites harsh but not harsh enough to break skin, “I’m not a dick.”

You weren’t about to let Ellie get the upper hand, you scoff and push her off of you and onto the bed, she falls on her back. Her bangs falling in front of your face and her legs spread a bit as you crawl on top. She props herself up on her elbows as you pull her hips closer to yours by lacing your finger under her belt loop, “You are such a fucking dog.”

Ellie’s eyes widen a bit when you crawl on top of her, her body tingles at your touch but she’s still too stubborn to let you see how much you’re affecting her, “Stop calling me that,” she mutters, bringing her hands up to rest on your hips, “You’re just an asshole,” she mutters, her eyes trained on that familiar cruel smirk plastered on your lips.

She hiccups again, struggling to keep up the defiant facade she usually puts up against you. In this inebriated state, she feels all too vulnerable and at your mercy.

“Say it, say you’re a pathetic dog,” you whisper against her ear, eventually brining your lips down to kiss her neck, your left hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and the other tracing her belt buckle.

Ellie lets out a pathetic whimper and a shaky gasp, “F-fuck off.”

Unlike Ellie’s soft bites, you bite down harshly on her neck, “Say it.”

Ellie lets out a small cry, “F-Fuck, fine! I-I’m a pathetic dog,” she whines out.

You giggle against the crook of her neck, “Now, was that so hard?”

She lets out a soft scoff as your giggles fill the room.

“Keep being a good mutt and maybe I’ll reward you,” your lips trail down from her neck to her collar bones.

Ellie’s heart races in her chest, her breathing coming out in soft gasps as your words send a flutter of both humiliation and desire through her veins, “I-I’ll be good, promise.”

You smile against her skin, your hand moving up from her belt buckle to the hem of her shirt and yanking it up above her chest, revealing her lack of bra.

“Aw, no bra?” you laugh, “You really are a fuckin’ perv, huh?”

Ellie hides her face behind her hands, “Shut up, I woulda worn one if I’d known we’d y’know…”

You giggle softly and bring your lips down to her chest, biting and kissing the sensitive skin, “You’re cute when you’re not acting so fuckin’ bratty.”

Ellie’s breath hitches and she lets out soft whimpers as you nip at her chest, her hips bucking against your knee that’s pressed against her aching cunt.

It’s clear as day that she’s a virgin, from the way her cheeks flush to the way her hips are bucking erratically.. it’s so fucking cute.

You pull back from her chest and swing your leg out from between her knees and to the side of her hips so that you’re straddling her.

“W-What are you doing?” she says, her voice laced with desperation and the desperation made even more obvious by the way she sits up and her hands grip your hips tighter.

“Aw, you wan’t more? Is that what you want?” you bring your hand up to her face and gently caress her freckled face.

“P-please?” she leans into your touch.

“Then beg, mutt,” you giggle cruelly as her face contorts to one of embarrassment, her brows furrowed, eyes wide, and lips slightly parted.

“Come on, t-that’s embarrassing,” she whines.

“Unless you want me to leave you here a forever virgin, I suggest you start begging,” your hand slides down to her neck and you give it a gentle squeeze.

Ellie looks down and you can almost see the phantom puppy ears on her head flatten with shame, “P-please, c-can you f-fuck me?” she whines out and buries her head into your chest, her grip on your hips tightening, sure to leave bruises.

You push her down onto the bed, “Good puppy.”

Ellie lets out another whimper at your praise, she tries to move her hips against yours but you hold her down firmly.

“If you want to feel good, you have to do something deserving of a reward,” you growl out against her skin.

She looks up at you with pleading eyes, “I-I’ll do anything, j-just say it and I-I’ll do it,” she’s practically trembling under your touch.

You climb off her, “Get on the floor and on your knees.”

Ellie does so a little too quickly, getting on her knees in between your legs.

You stand up and slide off your lacy panties off from under your skirt, “You ever done this before?”

Ellie watches your every move, another small hiccup slipping past her lips as she shakes her head.

“Yeah, I thought so,” you sit back down and part your legs.

Her pride bubbles up as she looks up at you, that defiant look in her eyes once again, “I could still be good at it even if I’m a virgin,” she mutters, trying her best to sound confident.

“I’ll see about that,” your fingers interlock with the short locks of auburn hair atop her head and you use your free hand to pull off her glasses before bringing her mouth closer to your soaked pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” she whimpers out, “I knew you got off on bullying me,” she chuckles, earning an eye roll from you.

After a moment of hesitation, she tentatively sticks out her tongue and licks your pussy, earning a sharp gasp from you. Her face is now buried in you as she can’t help but latch onto you, her tongue moving in circles. Ellie was trying her best to mimic what she had seen in porn but her experience shone through from the way she drooled all over you, her licks a little sloppy.

“Y-you taste so good,” she whines against your clit and her hands grip onto your thighs harshly.

After a few minutes, her movements become more fluid and precise as she gets the hang of it, sucking on your clit and using her fingers to tease your entrance. She can’t believe the noises you’re letting out, the cute little whimpers and mewls escaping your lips only fuel her hunger for you, the way your hand holds her head in place is driving her wild.

You can’t believe how good she is at this, you can’t believe how well she’s doing, especially for a first timer.

“I’m pretty good at this, huh?” She pulls away and licks her lips while looking up at you, her tone cocky and a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Shut up,” you groan and pull her back, your hips rocking against her mouth slightly.

Ellie moans against you, putting in more effort to make you finish, trying her best to prove that she is deserving of a reward. She moves her hand over your thighs, giving them a slight squeeze as she flicks her tongue over your clit, causing your eyes to roll back and your hips to move on their own.

Despite her inexperience, Ellie can tell you’re on the verge of cumming and moves her to your hip to help control them, her voice comes out in a rasp, “You gonna cum?” she mumbles against your aching clit.

You feverishly nod your head, “F-fuck, yes, god you’re such a good girl.”

Ellie lets out a moan at the praise as she pushes two fingers inside you and latches her lips around your clit.

Her long fingers curl upwards and brush against that sweet spot inside you, earning another moan from you, “Cum f’me, please? Fuck, please I need you to cum on my face,” she pathetically whines out.

She’s now so consumed with your pleasure that it’s almost like she doesn’t even want a reward anymore, all she wants to do is make you feel good.

You lock eyes with her, her eyes glazed over from both the alcohol and the overall lust flooding though her.

Finally, Ellie hears you cry out in ecstasy. Watching your hips move against her fingers and tongue, watching your eyes roll back, makes Ellie moan quietly and brings a smile of satisfaction to her lips.

Even after your orgasm, Ellie’s mouth remains latched onto you.

“E-Ellie, fuck, stop, I’m too sensitive,” you say between whines, your hand tugging at her hair as you try to pull her off your painfully sensitive cunt.

“But I want more,” she holds your hips in place and keeps going, ignoring your broken please, “Wanna make you come again.”

Her eyes flicker up to your face, loving how absolutely wrecked you looked under her mouth. You were always so stuck up, acting like you were above her and here you are, your usually perfectly fixed hair now out of place, your makeup running down your flushed cheeks, and your eyes rolled so far back into your head, it was hard for you to focus on anything but the sensation of Ellie. She pushes the two fingers back inside you and over her tongue down your tough. You twitch around her fingers as she thrusts them in and out in a scissoring motion.

Ellie smirks against your thigh as she bites down onto it. You gasp at the feeling, a mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Ellie watches your every move, a small smile on her lips, it’s as if she’s in her own form of heaven. She doesn’t think she can ever go back to watching porn now that she has you, your reactions ten times better than any pornstar she’d ever seen before.

She’s enjoying this way too much, your scent, your taste, your body, just everything about you is so intoxicating. Her fingers work faster now, curled up towards your g-spot.

“Damn, if I’d known you were like this sooner, maybe you wouldn’t have been such a fuckin’ bitch,” she dryly chuckles against your thigh.

Her thoughts become mushy, her brain high off the feeling of being dominant over you for a change and her body shaking with pride at the fact that she has the school’s reigning mean girl whining pathetically under her.

This whole time, she thought you were the dominant one based off all the times you had pushed her to the ground and spit on her, how you used to corner her in the locker room and yet here you are right now, begging for another finger to be added to your greedy cunt.

Ellie grins mischievously and adds another finger, “Begging is a good look for you,” she laughs.

You’re too fucked out to even come up with a snarky response, your pussy just sucking her long fingers into you.

“What, cat got your tongue?” she laughs, “It’s about time you shut the fuck up.”

She pushes your thighs even further apart, pressing on your lower stomach as her fingers curl up once again, causing your thighs to shake around her.

“Fuck, you gonna cum again?” she giggles and presses wet kisses against your stomach, all you can do is nod in response, “Yeah, then cum, cum for me.”

She keeps ramming her fingers into you, her pace is fast and relentless, “Fuck, come on, cum for me, make a mess all over my fingers,” she whines, she’s as desperate for you to cum again as you are.

She lets out a satisfactory moan as you cum around her fingers. She pushes her fingers in and out quickly, making you squirt around them. She leans back down and laos up your mess before licking her fingers clean.

Ellie moves to sit on the bed next to you.

After a few minutes, your brain is fully recovered and you prop yourself up on your elbows and glance over at her, your words breathless, “That was…”

She looks at you with a cock smile, “Awesome? Amazing? Fuckin’ mind-blowing?”

“Could’ve been better,” you lie.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “Are you kidding me? You’re serious right now? I totally rocked your world,” she scoffs, “Hell, you couldn’t even talk straight.”

Ellie continues teasing you for your lie as you recover from the two insanely powerful orgasms you just had.

It’s till hard for you to wrap your head around what just happened. You had never expected her to be so good at something like this, given how much of a loser she is… her head was so insanely good that it’s no wonder why she’s always on the honour roll.

ིྀ 𓎟ᛝ𓎟𓎟　†　𓎟𓎟ᛝ𓎟 ྀི

[a/n:] wrote this with one hand >:3 (jk) also that kanye song stuck in my head </3

[grimmsbride]

ᬊ ᭣֤ࣨ🩸𖥔 ݁ ˖ TAKING OVER ME ཐི♡̵̼͓̥͒̾͘ཋྀ° LOSER! CHOSO KAMO

( you called for me and woke me up … )

video games are addictive, especially when said video game comes to life in the shape of something choso kamo has been craving for ages; a woman.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS ╲ choso really puts the “lose” in loser meaning he’s gonna be hella cringy & ooc. sorry to irk ya | switch choso | canon divergence (choso is human) | reader is a sentient ai | lowkey dom! reader | choso cums in his pants | #bringbackdryhumping | minor nipple play | inspired by giffany from gravity falls | odd plot line | rough sex | sloppy & needy choso | possessive & obsessive behavior | overuse of pet names | reader is a little manipulative | choso fucks his bishoujo game gf | again choso is a fucking loser | video game comes to life (?) | creampie | multiple orgasms | reader is depicted of curvy/chubby with darker skin | self indulgent | black coded reader | etc

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES ╲ i got this idea after listening to whatsaheart & remembering that one giffany episode. i also have been seeing “loser!” fanfics and have been intrigued. as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

Hours spent within that chair, sinking into the leather whilst his eyes burned into the screen. One would be surprised how well the bedroom smelled given its’ inhabitants terrible habits. But it was simply a routine for the man; wake up, shower, go to work, come home, shower, and sit down for hours playing that same stupid game.

Choso Kamo doesn’t remember how he got so entranced by it in the first place. Before this, he was a gamer, but not to this extent. He didn’t get so lost in most first person shooters or story based novellas. But this one, this particular game seemed to plague his mind the moment it was downloaded to his pc.

It was an bishoujo game, the storyline entirely dependent on his choices and actions. The main objective was capturing the heart of this beauty known as [Full Name]; someone that stole Choso’s eye far too quickly. He wondered who exactly was the artist behind designing her character; given it was completely flawless. Her sun-kissed skin shined in about every scene, body plump and always dressed in the prettiest outfits.

Plus her hair— always kept in curly braids, cascading down her back in such a delightful fashion the man wondered how it would feel between his fingers.

These thoughts continued to tug at his mind the longer he played, days turning into weeks, and soon months. Choso did feel shame at first. He’s only human after all, and any human is bound to be embarrassed by their own peculiarities. But soon enough that shame was washed away, the longer his eyes settled onto the screen. Choso doesn’t remember the last time he’s even looked at another game— nor did the man care. This beloved Bishoujo.. his beloved [Name] deserved all of his attention after all.

The day was long, filled with endless tasks that slowly began to overload Choso’s brain. He found himself sitting down at times, eyes pinched closed to hopefully find just a bit of solace. Work was always laced with constant stress, his attention regularly needed for assignments that coworkers could easily do. But alas, Choso never said a thing; simply nodding and walking off to complete it. Human interaction was its own struggle amongst the workplace.

But it’s not like it mattered to him, he got enough of it at home; infront of his beloved pc.

That seemed to be the only thing that pushed Choso forward these days. Being able to see [Name]’s face each time his pc started, how her smile lit up the moment he greeted her; features perfectly animated to the point Choso could practically feel her excitement radiating through the screen. She was all he needed now, a simple light in his life to get through even the toughest of days.

So it was only natural that the moment Choso was finished with work he was rushing home, practically tripping over himself to get through the door. With a quick shut and lock the man was tossing his bag to the side, hands reaching for his work uniform to began tugging it off. Routinely he walked towards his bathroom, bare by the time he reached to quickly hop in the shower.

Choso always made it a habit to bathe before seeing her. Delusional? Maybe.. as the ai couldn’t exactly smell him, but it always seemed to freshen Choso’s mind.

After showering the man quickly moved to his bedroom in his towel, drying himself completely before throwing on a simple pair of boxers, sweats, and a tshirt. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he made his way to his gaming chair, pressing the power button of his pc even before sitting down.

Once he did though, Choso’s eyes shined at the bright light of the screen the moment it booted up, fingers resting rather impatiently amongst his keyboard. Shortly after he typed his password in, hand swiftly finding his mouse and dragging the cursor over to that pretty little icon occupying a space on his hot bar.

It only took a couple of seconds for the game to start up, Choso’s heart pounding the moment [Name] came on screen. She was dressed in a simple white button, emulating a sleep scene where Choso accidentally woke her.

Despite this she only smiled, pressing her face into the pillow beneath her.

“Hi Choso..” [Name] sung in that dreamy tone, reaching out towards the screen. Choso was quick to respond, allowing the rest of the world to disappear in that instant. His only focus was her, his perfect [Name], his only objective making her fall more and more in love with her.

He didn’t care about anything else, nothing at all— not even the slight ache in his stomach from hunger. Obsession and addiction all mixed into one terrible, yet exhilarating combination.

Choso rode that high for about two hours before something.. happened.

“What the hell..” His breathing was bated, eerie as darkness invaded his bedroom. So in tune with his game, Choso hadn’t even realized it was thundering outside. Rain pelted down against his home, smoothed out with a sudden crackle every so often. The man quickly deduced his issue to the power going out, a heavy sigh escaping him. He tried not to be annoyed, especially when the game was getting so, so good. He simply hoped auto save was still in effect.

Choso debated on what to do in the meantime. He could sleep, this was the perfect time to after all. Though the fear of his power not coming back racked his mind; what if when he woke up it was still gone? Aside from the game, he needed his computer for emails and other necessities— plus having to move around in the dark just wasn’t as fun as it seemed.

The man lifted his phone, thumbing the case and debating whether to inform the owners of his building. Maybe a quick message will at least give him a time frame or in better scenarios; speed up the process. Choso was hoping for the latter, of course.

Opening up his phone, the gamer made quick work of moving over to his mail app. There, he began to construct an email; being as polite as ever whilst asking how long the power would be out. The subject read for about a single, simple paragraph; his eyes casing his screen every so often to assure his words were concise and civil.

With his attention completely gifted to his phone, it was no surprise the sudden illumination of his room completely startled him— Choso nearly leaping out of his chair, as his heart squeezed. However that fear wasn’t short-lived, instead it increased the moment his eyes settled upon his pc.

The device was still shut off, surely needing to be manually pressed. With the screen black, Choso could see his tired features staring right back at him.. along with, someone else standing right behind him.

The man quickly spun around in his chair, chest tight and breathing hard as what he saw seemed to disappear in thin air.

Choso’s mind was playing tricks, wasn’t it? It had to be! That or spending hours infront of a screen straight was catching up to him at the absolute worst time. It was probably time to go to sleep..

With a heavy breath the man slowly turned back, eyes fluttering and gaze landing on the woman currently sitting right on his desk.

The noise he let out was far from attractive let alone the way he practically flew back out of his chair was even less graceful. With a harsh thud to the ground, Choso groaned heavily, eyes closed and trying to self-soothe.

“Choso! Are you okay?!” A feminine voice practically yelled, the gamer hearing movement coming towards him amidst his pain. A shiver ran down his spine as cold hands made contact with his skin, his eyes spanning open to land on the person before him.

The person being.. you, [Name]. That beloved video game romance thats been on his mind for months.

Choso couldn’t help the pure shock invading his features, struggling to find words as his eyes ran down your form. This had to be a joke, some type of prank a person was playing on him. As, there was no way in hell you, were sitting right before him; touching him so delicately with concern and worry.

“Ho..” The words came slow, a quick nervous swipe of his tongue treading along his bottom lip. “How.. did you get in my house?” Choso finally managed, watching your eyes flick from his body to his face.

With an adorable grin your head tilted a bit, arm outstretched and pointing a manicured finger right to his pc.

“You suddenly left, so I got worried something happened. I came to check on you!”

The words came out so sweetly, and simple; Choso nearly forgetting how worrisome this truly was— and it certainly didn’t help you were suddenly breaching his personal space, slithering your arms around him to cuddle your cheek right against his.

“What..”

“I missed you Choso.” You mumbled softly, sliding a bit to rest your head against his chest. The frantic beating of his heart caused you to smile, head tipping to press your chin against him. You looked at him through your curly lashes, glossed lips parting slowly;

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? Trying to find the perfect time to come out and.. properly see you.” The words were laced with the sweetest honey, causing a shiver to trickle right down Choso’s spine. Here you were, the woman that’s been on his mind for ages and all he could do was sit back and watch; utterly helpless to your existence.

You tried to not let on how much this excited you. How each twitch, sharp breath, and shaky glance of his caused your heart to swell. But you weren’t so discreet, you never were; not with your beloved Choso.

You moved carefully, sliding to sit right in his lap whilst your hands dragged up his chest. His smell was addicting, freshly showered with a hint of mint and pine. You breathed him in deeply, coming closer the moment your arms wrapped around his neck so tenderly.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.. Always wondering how you felt beneath my palms.” You spoke, lips fixated into a little pout as you leaned forward, allowing them to graze the shell of his ear.

“You’ve ruined me Choso.. take responsibility.”

The sharp hiss of your words was the last thing Choso heard, while the next thing he felt was your lips on his. His heart was practically thundering at this point, eyes wide whilst a dark scarlet was painted across his cheeks. Choso’s hands danced about, unaware of what to do. He was clearly inexperienced in this department, stuttering thoughts debating on the proper course of action.

He didn’t want to ruin this, whatever this was. Shouldn’t he be more worried about your entire existence rather than this silly kiss? What were you anyway!?

All his thoughts seemed to dissipate the moment you kissed harder, your own pretty eyes peering open staring right at him. Fuck, you were dreamy; perfect just like on the screen. Why on earth was he thinking so hard? Here you were, right infront of him, giving him what he’s been craving for years at this point.

It was time for Choso to be a little selfish.

With shaky hands, Choso found your waist, fingers sinking into your flesh and tugging you just a bit closer. He couldn’t help the sense of pride he felt from the happy hum you released right into his mouth, the kiss getting just a bit deeper. Your lips moved with clear experience, taking the reins and dominating his mouth the moment his lips parted.

Choso couldn’t help the downright pathetic whimper that escaped him the moment your wet muscle met his own. He’s imagined what kissing felt like, but never expected for it to feel this good. You marked the dark cavern as your own, licking in spaces that caused the tingles to rush right between his legs.

The man couldn’t help his hips rising, bucking up into you and groaning heavily the moment he made contact with your perfect form. Within moments you were pulling back, a clear string connecting the two of you as heavy breaths fanned between the two of you. Choso shook as your hands found his hot cheeks, spotting the pretty grin pulling your bruised lips.

“Just from a kiss?.. Such a pervert, Choso.”

His eyes went wide at your words, struggling to find his own in defense. But unfortunately he couldn’t, as the moment those pretty hips rolled; he was lost— a complete stuttering mess.

“I..I’m— no..”

“Yo—you’re not?” You mocked sweetly, continuing to roll your hips, gliding your barely covered cunt right against his thick bulge. You leaned over, trailing your lips over his neck; stamping wet kisses and suck against his pale skin.

Focusing on your lips and grinds, Choso barely noticed your fingers sliding under his tshirt until they made contact with his nipple. His eyes shot open, fingers digging into your sides as he felt your two fingers twisting and rubbing against the little bud.

“[Name].. fuck—.. I—!”

You smile right into his neck, continuing the rubbing while increasing your rough grinds. Choso was shaking like a damn leaf at this point, unable to contain the moans escaping his throat. You were barely touching where he needed you most, yet he felt as if he could burst at any time. Normally his inexperience would be a complete embarrassment, but the man was far too focused on the pleasure instead.

You lead your kisses up to his chin, kissing his cheek affectionately and innocently as if you weren’t completely ruining him. “My handsome Choso.. You like this?” Your thumb swept against his hard, abused nipple, a breathy sigh escaping you as you continued your delicious grinds.

Unable to speak affectively the man could only nod, head leaning back against his wall whilst he bucked up into you. Moments of this intensity passed before a sharp groan thundered from his throat, Choso coming undone right there in his pants.

His breathing was hard, gaze hazy as he attempted to relax from his high. Choso felt you lay a kiss right to his nose, the sweetest encouragements falling from your lips shortly after.

“Did so well for me, Choso. Think you can do it again?..” You mumbled softly, hand falling from under his shirt to instead thumb against the waistband of his bottoms. Through a bleary gaze the man took in your features; how your previously sweet smile now resembled a more impish grin. You clearly enjoyed toying with his body, pulling out reactions he didn’t think were even possible.

Yet, Choso didn’t hate this; in fact, it only turned him on even more. Call him a masochist, maybe some freak— it didn’t matter. For, only for you, he would be anything; including putty that you could morph into just about anything you wanted.

With far too much enthusiasm he was nodding his head, your sweet laughter muting all negative thoughts instantly.

You slowly stood over him, smiling down at him as a perfectly manicured finger traced the air right about at his pants.

“Off.”

You spoke simply, fingers then hooking onto your panties. You watched as Choso — not so gracefully — practically rushed to push his bottoms down, revealing sculpted thighs and his hard length. Residue of his previous orgasm was present, coating his angry red tip and dripping down his entire shaft.

What a mess. You thought to yourself, a sense of pride escaping you that only seemed to worsen the moment you noticed Choso’s gaze completely fixated between your legs. He was practically salivating, fingers twitching right in his lap— probably desperate to touch.

You would gift him that right later, for now..

You descended back down, sitting onto his thighs with his length brushing up against you. With a gentle hand you were grasping him, eyes flicking to his face the moment a sharp hiss escaped him.

“So excited.. you want to be inside me so bad, don’t you— Choso?” Your head tilted to the side, lazy strokes being delivered to his weeping cock. He couldn’t help the pitiful thrusts up into your hand, fingers practically scratching as his thighs, as desperation resided right on his features.

“Ye..yes please.. I wan— fuck I want yo—you so bad—!”

You felt your own arousal trickle, deciding to end both of your sufferings right then and there. You grasped his length more firmly, scooting closer and lifting yourself. Lining him up with your entrance you slowly slid down, moaning out as your walls swallowed him carefully.

Choso would have burst right then and there if he wasn’t practically screaming at himself to hold it in. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt your fun. So with a tight lipped groan he felt all of you, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling.

His imagination didn’t compare, not one bit.

Soon enough he was fully inside, your arms finding his neck to tug him even closer. You smiled the moment his hands gripped your hips, leaning forward as the sweetest words were pushed right against his lips;

“I love you, Choso.”

Yeah, he was practically begging his body to keep it in at this point.

Through a shaky breath he uttered the same words, fingers digging right into you the moment he felt your hips move. If Choso thought dry humping felt good, the man could only describe this as downright euphoric. With each lift, his length only seemed to leave your cunt for a moment before you quickly dropped back down; enveloping him once again.

Soon enough that pattern, hard and fast; took over his entire body, his lips pulling away from your own to release the loudest moan. His head was lolling to the side, hushed swears escaping his throat. The man couldn’t focus on anything but you; your pretty moans, how you moved those hips so well, your slick walls squeezing him in deeper and deeper— shit you were driving him crazy in the perfect way.

You leaned forward, face digging right into his neck as you struggled to breathe. “Ha..h you feel so good, Choso— fuck!” You whined out, thighs slapping against his own in the most noisy melody. Your nails turned to dig right into his shoulders, holding on desperately like a much needed anchor.

Every so often you felt him meet your drop with his own thrusts, causing your mind to spiral and the sweet moans to release without a second thought. You couldn’t help the way your head was tilting back, thighs squeezing his body so desperately as the pleasure consumed you. You could feel your brain turning into utter mush, center pulsing desperately with an itch for release.

In the midst of the haze Choso could somehow focus, awestruck with the sight before him. He never thought he would reach the day where he laid with a woman, let alone someone as perfect as you. Your golden skin glistened with sweat amongst the illumination of his bedroom, your lips pursed as moans escaped you. It took a full moment for the man to realize it was all because of him; he was the one gifting you such pleasure. No one else, just Choso.

He couldn’t exactly help the joy thrumming throughout his entire body. So much so that the man wanted to give you even more.

Your eyes widened the moment you felt his hands fall from your hips and instead grip your thighs. You went to speak, only for a surprised yelp to escape you instead the moment Choso stood with you his arms. Still snug inside you, the man found the closest surface to lay you upon — his bed — all while sinking deeper into your wet snatch.

“Ch—choso..!” You gasped the moment he went deeper, feeling the bed sink on either side of you from his hands. With your legs hanging on his hips, Choso began to buck; pulling his hips back and forth experimentally for a moment— only for the uncertainty to wash away the moment you began to cry out.

“Sh..shit you feel.. so good!” Little tears began to build up in your eyes, hand turning and scratching at his bedsheets; curling them into your fists so tightly you would surely rip a hole.

Choso panted above you, black strands hanging in his face. Though the moment they invaded his vision the man was lifting his hand, running his fingers through them to push to the back. Finally your pretty features came back into view, causing his dick to swell even more if possible.

“Does that feel good, [Name]? So fucking wet.. you’re making a mess.”

You whined at his words, lips fixated into a pout as you couldn’t even think to respond. You could only wrap your legs tight around his waist, chasing that itch deep inside.

And as that bubble deep in your lower stomach seemed to swell, moans, expletives, and his name came out in a drawn out fashion; tongue wicked and loose from the pleasure. You wondered if people next door could hear, probably annoyed by all the sound.

Even so, you didn’t care at the moment to apologize.

Choso brought himself to lay on his forearms, driving his cock deeper and stirring you up; tip brushing right against your g-spot— stars dancing in your vision. His heavy breaths fanned against your already hot skin, your hands rising to claw at his covered back.

“G—gonna cum, gonna cum— hm!”

With furrowed eyebrows Choso seemed to slam himself even deeper, chasing your voice and ever so desperate to make you finish.

“All over me.. please, make a mess all over me [Name].. fuck— you feel so good, I can’t think!”

Whimpers etched into his speech, his eyes rolled back the moment your cunt clenched, obeying his wish and making a complete mess of his cock. Shortly after Choso was driving himself forward, flooding you with his own orgasm— a deep groan escaping his abused throat.

Heavy pants were passed between the two of you, Choso coming to lay his face between your breasts, trying to relax from his high.

You breathed deeply through your nose, hands sliding to his hair and raking your fingers between the pretty, slick strands.

“I don’t wanna go back.” You mumbled softly, eyes flicking down to Choso who was already staring at you.

“Then don’t.. stay here, with me. Please.”

Your lips curled into a smile, sliding your fingers against his scalp.

“Of course, Choso. You’re mine and I’m yours— forever and always.”

[seandiazworms]

sean diaz headcanons pt 3.5

super short! some old stuff i wrote

- ngl best listener ever. u guys will be in his bathroom talking shit and hell try to tie ur hair for u. he’ll look at ur face through the mirror bc hes so immersed in what ur saying and ur facial expressions. u shoot a quick “are u done” and he looks back to the lopsided ponytail he made 😭. he’ll mutter “sorry…” like he tripped u on purpose or something.

- daniel will BEG for u guys to watch some kid tv show with him. u both agree (sean only does so for points from u) and not even ten minutes in sean will fall asleep on u. daniel keeps shaking him awake saying “did u see that? did u see that?” at literally any scene. sean absolutely hates it and just shoves his face further into your chest/collarbone. he’s probably grumbling incoherent profanities too

- ull be there for all of sean’s track meets. in-between the races and events, sean will sit next to u all sweaty. he asks if he did good out there every single time because he’s self-conscious! u always reassure him though.

- alsooo u get to see him as a total mess. chest heaving, sweat dribbling down his face, cheeks pricked with red, the whole package. when he catches u staring, his face somehow gets a little more red. he grumbles “stoppp” all girly but he loves it LMAO.

- sean is a wingstop fein and he will take u on dates there. u guys got saucy hands and look like babies covered in peanut butter 😭 he tells u how stupid u look and u two go back and forth—looking equally stupid.

- sean tries to build u lego flowers as a gift and will be stressed tf out. he’ll be hunched on the floor at like 2 am and every time daniel or esteban checks on him he starts incoherently groaning 😭

- when u do makeup in front of him u ask him what products are for what for shits and giggles. u’ll show him a lipstick and he’ll be like “…vibrator?” and after like 50 products he finally gives normal responses.

- “fuck… the saw trap thing u put on ur eyeballs???”

- “close enough…”

- playing video games like tlou with each other

- when u have the controller he cant help but stare at the side of ur face when ur playing. he likes it especially because ur so concentrated and he thinks its adorable

- when he has the controller he tries to impress u by doing the absolute most. he dies every time and gets embarrassed lol

- when u first started dating he would lie about knowing things u talked about just to look cool (he has no idea what ur talking about). when u looked at him funny he would turn sooo red

- “have u ever heard of descendants?”

- “yeah i love that show”

- “no… like the band”

- “oh”

[clydiepie]

Team Stan x reader! (Cooking for them)

Cooking for your boyfriend is never dull that's for sure lol

cw: none!

Team Stan (individually) x reader who loves to cook for them!

She/her pronouns

fluffy!

mentions of NSFW

Enjoy!! <3

Cartman<3

do i even have to explain???

okay i will lol

HE LOVES IT

"Hey, babe instead of us going out how about I make dinner?" You said popping your head out from the kitchen

"I think i love you.." he mumbled

"What was that?"

"Nothing stupid get back in the kitchen" he joked

While you worked in the kitchen you were super focused, you always wanted things to be just the way Eric liked (especially since he would never let you forget If you fucked something up)

He is probably sitting on the couch playing some videogame with the boys online when he smells something coming from the kitchen.

He pulls off his headset and leaves the game to follow that delicious smell

"Cartman?"

"Where the hell did he go?"

but the game has been long abandoned he shuffles his way closer to you as you focused on whatever was on the stovetop.

You were pulled from your intense focus as Eric protectively wrapped his arms around your waist

"Almost done?"

"Nearly"

Eric is gracious enough to set the table for you guys

Once you guys have eaten, Eric drags you to the couch to cuddle with him (even though he will insist that he only wants to relax while his food digests)

You guys snuggle up on his couch and watch T.V together

you can see his phone on the end table that keeps lighting up with texts from the boys wondering where he went, he ignores them.

"Maybe you should just say over, I don't want to walk you home in this cold weather."

"Eric it's cold every day."

"Shhhhhh"

Kyle<3

He really just wants to help

dear god let him or he'll explode

"Y/N honey, do you want any help?"

"I'm okay but thank you!"

Kyle will sit in the kitchen and watch your every move, not judging or anything he is just curious (plus he just likes being around you)

He waits patiently for you to give him some kind of task, he really just wants to be helpful.

"Babe?"

"Yes!" Kyle says a little too enthused jumping up from his seat.

"Would you ask Ike if he is hungry, I have enough for the three of us." you say with a smile

Kyle begrudgingly invites his little brother to eat with you guys. (he just wanted you to himself)

The three of you are gathered around Kyle's kitchen table as you serve up the food to the boys.

Kyle can't help but imagine what a good mother you would be.

Like you are so good at helping out with Ike he can’t even think about it without blushing

You take notice of his red face and ask if the food is too spicy

“Oh no it’s perfect!!”

He calmly composed himself as you and Ike chat about how school is going

Shortly after you finish eating Ike scurries upstairs back to his video games while Kyle helps you wash the dishes.

The two of you side by side at the sink, laughing as you play with the bubbles in the sink

You take a huge handful of bubbles and slap it in his face

He wipes his face and underneath the mess you see a devious smirk

You slowly start to back away from him knowing what was about to happen

“Oh baby you’re going to pay for that.”

All is heard is your screams as Kyle chases you with a handful of bubbles

“Ike help me!!” You yell

“Sorry Buddy.” Ike yells back from his room

Stan<3

Stan actually didn't even know you were going to be at his house when he got home

His parents are out of town so he figured he would just heat up a frozen pizza or something

But he walked in the door and was greeted by you wearing a cute little apron and setting the table with some simple plates for the two of you

"Uh Y/N, what's all this?"

"Oh, I just thought it would be nice for us to have a little dinner date." you smile

You are so fucking cute Stan can't handle it

He follows you into the kitchen and sees a number of things strewn about the counters

a cookbook sat open next to the stove as you continued to stir whatever was in the boiling pot in front of you

He could tell you were putting in a lot of effort and he felt bad he hadn't done anything for you

instead of offering his help, which he knew you wouldn't accept, he hatched a plan of his own

Stan strolled over to you and kissed your forehead while you worked

"I'll be right back okay?"

You hummed in response deep in concentration with your project

As fast as he came he was gone again, swiftly grabbing his keys and walking out the front door

As you heard the front door close you thought to yourself what he might be doing but you decided just to focus on the task at hand.

Just as you were about to finish up the food you hear the front door open and some movement in the dining room

You figure Stan is just up to some weird joke so you finish up the food and walk into the dining room with 2 plates in hand

You walk out to see Stan holding a bouquet of flowers and the table is set with candles and rose petals all around

"Stanley" you say trying not to cry because of how sweet he was

"What kind of date doesn't have flowers for their girlfriend?"

You put the food down on the table and walk over to him and pull him in for a sweet kiss

"Maybe I could treat you to some dessert later hm" you say kissing him again

"What did I do to deserve you."

Kenny<3

You decided to surprise your boyfriend at his house with plans to make him and his siblings dinner

You arrived at Kenny's and gave the door a quick knock before being greeted by your boyfriend with a surprised look on his face

"Babe what are you doing here." he says as he swoops in to take all the heavy bags you were carrying

"I thought I could make dinner for everyone." you smiled as you started to unpack the contents of your bags onto the counters

Kenny was shocked you would spend your time and money on him and his family

He needed to repay you somehow

As you started to prepare some stuff for cooking you noticed that Kenny had started to help you pulling out mixing bowls and a few utensils

"Ken you don't have to help, I got this," you say resting your hand on his shoulder as he leans down into the bottom cabinet looking for something.

"I know you do but I just want to help, please let me." he cooed standing up with an old wooden cutting board in hand.

You gave in instantly, how could you say no to that face

The two of you worked together cutting vegetables and cooking over the stove, Kenny would sometimes just walk up and kiss you in the middle of something

The two of you worked so well together, it's like he always knew what your next move would be

he was always one step ahead

As you too finished up cooking Kenny did the best he could to find matching plates and cups for you and his siblings

You went to call the kids in for dinner as Kenny put the plates of food on the table

domestic life seemed to fit you both so well, as you all ate Kenny talked with his sister and brother about their day

he held your hand below the table the whole time

After dinner, you guys just tossed the dishes in the sink and went to Kenny's room to cuddle

As he held you in his arms he mumbled a question into your shoulder

"Would you ever want kids one day?"

"Only if you were my baby daddy." you laugh

"Oh, I can arrange that."

Thanks for reading! i kinda got a little carried away sorry if this is too long lol!!

-m <3

[yournightmary]

more streamer! ellie hcs? or maybe college roommate! ellie pls🙏❤️

content warning:: modern!AU, that’s literally it

AN:: I wanted to combine those things but I actually have no idea how college works so… tried my best:) Really short but I had no idea what else to add.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ellie started streaming the first day of college. She thought that if already she plays video games might as well stream it and maybe make some money.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She literally woke up in the morning, went to classes that she didn’t understand, then to her shitty work at some convenience store and then, when she was practically dead, she would stream.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first it was hard to get any viewers that would stay and actually watch, since she streamed around midnight- maybe even later. But someone posted a clip from her stream on tik tok and she kinda blew up? Like not really, but started getting enough money to quit her job.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Definitely a faceless streamer- she was scared that someone from her classes would recognize her and make fun of her. And because she talked shit about almost everyone on campus (not dropping names, she’s not that stupid)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s had a GIANT crush on you since the first day when she stumbled into you on campus. It was literally like a scene in a movie, your books fell to the ground and she helped you pick them up. But before she could introduce herself or do anything, you were already gone.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Talks about you to her chat. Has like a stupid nickname for you (because she doesn’t know your real name). Literally tells them everything, where she saw you that day, what you were wearing- and if you smiled at her or something like that? Oh god, that’s all she’s yapping about on stream.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ One time she was sitting in class behind some random guy she didn’t know and she peeked over his shoulder, just because she was bored, only to see him watching some clips of her stream on tik tok. She actually went MIA and didn’t stream for a good week or two because she was too scared of being recognized.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ After that she became a lot more careful about what she’s saying on stream. Stopped talking about specific people (except you), about her classes and professors.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Always gets so awkward and nervous when someone asks what she does for work. If she was too vague it sounded weird but if she was too specific people could find her account. So she chooses the first option and just says she does stuff in the internet (almost everyone who asked thought she does OF or something like that)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ A good few months passed before she finally got the balls to talk to you (after getting bullied by her chat). It all went well, surprisingly to her… until you asked if she’s a streamer. That girl literally had tears of anxiety in her eyes!! But you told her that you think she’s really funny and you watch her in your free time and she calmed down.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She kinda forgot about the fact that she yaps about you every time she streams… you didn’t remind her for her own good. Definitely stopped mentioning you after she found out you watch her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Don’t worry, she went back to it once you started dating:)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Invites you to sit with her when she streams, since she doesn’t have a face cam. Or maybe even streams some stupid multiplayer games with you.

I might make something special for halloween but no promises 😈

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Hi there,

Saw your post about Cajun/cowboy Alastor and OMG! I don’t have many ideas other then maybe he plays poker for souls or something like that and maybe a reader comes into town and is just as good at poker as he is. And he cannot seem to win, leading him to become mildly obsessed over winning their soul.

Thats all I have as I don’t know much about cajun/cowboy stuff.

I’ll let you know if I have any other ideas!

Thank you!

Alastor - [ ACE OF HEARTS ]

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A/N: Omg, I love your take on cowboy Al! It got me thinking about it for days. I have never played poker, so I had to watch multiple YouTube videos to understand the game while writing this. Hopefully, it came out accurate enough! Also, this is a very, VERY traumatic/smut-heavy fic I'm working on, so please be aware and know I don't endorse anything I write.

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ MATURE THEMES ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ GUN PLAY… ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON….eventually.] + [ SLIGHT/IMPLIED AGE GAP ] + [ MENTIONS OF GORE/BLOOD/CANNABILISM ] + [ KIDNAPPING…sort of?.. ] + [ PARENTAL PHYSICAL AB*SE…eventually..] + [ ANGST/TRUAMA…]

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**Cowboy Alastor** is known for his record of killing, is a skilled bounty hunter, and is far from a decently moral one. Everyone assumes his motives, guessing who his next target is and if he’ll ever feel guilt for what he does to them.

He doesn't.

What kind of demon would he be if he did…

Besides, the people he kills owe him in one way or another, all in debt to the red demon by their stupidity and lust for life, so he feels nothing for them when the time comes for the price of their deals to be paid.

Alastor arrives for them in the dead of dry nights, taking their last breath with a single bullet to the head or a clean cut across the throat. Their pleas do little to affect his decision.

“A deal is a deal…”

He reminds them that escaping a bloody end is impossible, already solidified by their selfish desires, and no amount of begging will change his mind. They curse his name, glaring at the grin on his face as he draws nearer with deathly intent in his eyes, and it only grows as he derives pleasure from their refusal to cooperate.

The riches, the riding, and the roughness he endures daily are nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from killing. Others may deal in chasing oil, farming land, and cattle, but he stakes his fulfillment in the business of blood.

**Cowboy Alastor** dabbles in gambling when he's not off-striking deals with lowly souls or wreaking havoc on those he deems deserving.

Every city south of New Orleans with a bar or saloon welcomes his visits and not by choice.

Those who don't meet his standards or demands of hospitality drop from the face of the earth at his will, burning to a crisp full of the dead occupants who so lightly offended him, and never to be rebuilt out of fear he'd return to demolish it again.

He surely would, but no one has yet to test the theory in fear of a painful death by his hands.

Alastor leisurely travels the expanse of Louisiana's countryside, partial to riding wherever the wind blows, but he’ll always return to the rumbling city of New Orleans.

Whether for personal reasons or because his beloved mother wished to see him, it becomes second nature for the deer demon to reside there randomly. It was his hometown, after all, and he preferred the taste of whiskey from a familiar place over foreign alcohol in far-off dusty taverns he'd never visit again.

The saloon he fancies sits opposite the central townhouse, a tall building at the end of a main street that never seemed to rest.

Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar

Summer nights brought out and drew in more people, filling the bar with patrons who knew of his deeds and those who’d only heard scarring stories about him through the ladder. The knowledge of a red reaper roaming the towns of Louisiana varied, but their fearful respect of him was abundant the moment Alastor stepped foot into the bustling bar.

He was there, in good spirits for the most part, but still an impossible threat they couldn't brush off.

**Cowboy Alastor** greets the silent patrons with a sly grin, tipping his hat to the fear-stricken owner who eyed him from behind the packed bar.

“Don't let me interrupt the fun, Cher. I'm not here to cause you trouble… that's if you're kind enough to indulge me.”Alastor chuckles, not waiting for a proper response from anyone as he stalks over to his usual spot in the smokey parlor.

A group of cattlemen stiffen in their seats as he walks by, all grabbing their drinks as swiftly as possible before leaping up from their table to avoid him, and their skittish actions cause Alastor to laugh as he settles into a particular backroom booth.

It was customary for people to keep their distance from him, some deterred by his striking appearance while others simply didn't want to risk involvement with a known killer. He saw nothing wrong with their aversion, glad that his reputation proceeded him, but there were those single few who saw him as a challenge rather than a threat.

Poor fools…

Mortal or not, he ran into them regularly, welcoming their duels like a bored child getting a new toy to destroy, and though he knew they'd fail to win against him, he'd never turn down a good game.

Ever…

**Cowboy Alastor** lets the saloon wind into chaos again, humming along to the melody of music and rowdy singing while getting comfortable in his secluded spot.

His hat rests low on his head, shielding most of his red gaze from those who look his way, only leaving the view of his Cheshire smile and effectively signaling his oddly calm demeanor. Alastor slipped his riding jacket off, tossing the tailored burgundy clothing across the back of the booth, his leather and suede black gloves following suit.

“What a day it's been…” he mumbled while flexing his long fingers, relaxing his posture while leaning back and rolling his neck until a soft ‘pop’ was heard.

Consequently, the tension tangled in his limber body from riding all day unraveled. Alastor sucked his teeth at the feeling, licking his lips as a satisfied groan left them, and just as he sat forward again, the owner hurried to his table with a bottle of alcohol and a tray of cigars.

“Your usual, Al,” he split out, setting the items in front of him with shakey hands, and Alastor clicks his tongue at the nervous tick. He'd come to this bar for years, and the old man still trembled in his boots around him. The poor fool wouldn't dare admit his fear either, rushing off as soon as he reached for the bottle, and though some might consider his retreat rude, Alastor found it amusing.

Flattering, even.

**Cowboy Alastor** drinks slowly, letting the whiskey burn his tongue and drowning the malt taste with languid drags from a cigar.

Eyes scan over him, women whisper about him lustfully under the rowdy music, and the men keep their senses about them with happy trigger fingers.

Because as they say: “Red Reaper, Red Reaper. The devil's solemn deal keeper. Beware him & the hell he seeks…”

Alastor imposes his intensity, grinning at those who stare too long, watching the women who drink him in with an equally sultry stare, and daring the men to throw a bullet his way with a knowing smirk. He invites trouble, waiting for it like a preying snake in tall, dry grass, but after some time, he assumes no one in the saloon will accept his invitation.

That is until you step in, looking lost among the worldly thrills of a bar but unafraid to venture further into it with an air of certainty surrounding you.

**Cowboy Alastor** makes no move to approach you, laid back as ever, as he observes the gentle way you speak to men who drunkenly approach you. They make offers to dance, almost crowding your more diminutive form as you trail to the bar.

“Sorry, boys, but I'm here on business, not pleasure. Now, run along..” you wave them away playfully, purposely flirtatious but avidly stern.

He expects them to continue bugging you; you're a doll, after all, prettier than most women he's seen. However, the men retreat politely, leaving you be as the owner approaches your side, and you immediately turn to hug him despite his apparent concerned expression.

Alastor observes the exchange closely, reading your lips perfectly while sipping at his drink, and it's all too easy for him to assess the situation.

The daughter of a businessman returns home after finishing school in the north, wanting to visit him at work as a pleasant surprise, but he's far from happy about a young lady like yourself being out late at night in a place like this.

You're too mannered to be seen around the patrons, it's dangerous for you to ride alone in the evening, and your father isn't pleased you intend to stay out to celebrate your school completion.

He tells you it's best to go home, that he'll come with you, but you insist on staying and remind him, “I'm not your little girl anymore, Daddy!..” The older man can't seem to rein you in, having to drop the lecture as a small brawl breaks out in the corner of the saloon, which draws his attention immediately, and this leaves you to wander the scene freely.

A perfect time for Alastor to reel you in close and personal…

**Cowboy Alastor** whistles when you walk past his area, catching your attention with a short, soulful melody, and you quickly notice him in the dim back room.

“Hi there, lil’ lady. Searchin' for somethin'?” He inquires playfully, tone bordering sensual, and his grin slipping into a closed smile as your gaze settles on him.

You’re curious, not scared of him like most are, and the moment he speaks to you, questions race through your head.

Who is he?

How have you never seen him here before?

Why, in God's name, is he sitting away from the masses?

Is he a rider, a hunter, or maybe a convict?

It was hard to tell from a distance, so without a second thought, you flashed him a gentle smile, gradually approaching where he sat, “Hello, and who might you be, sir?” You chirp a greeting, resisting the urge to bite your lip as he stares into your wandering gaze.

Alastor assumed you’d been away from the South too long to realize who he was, that your father's earlier warning didn’t sprout from overprotectiveness but rather fear of his presence.

You didn’t see him as a threat, nor a danger, but a new face in an old town.

He chuckles, putting out his cigar after taking a particularly long drag from it, blowing smoke past his lips with a coy hum. You blink as the convoluted air fans your face, unbothered by it and itching for a taste of tobacco yourself. It’d been a few years since you’d let loose, not allowed to frequent bars or act unladylike in the limelight of northern modesty.

“A loyal patron, but it’s been some time since I’ve paid this place a visit.” He answers you politely, an odd trait that most men only reserved for themselves but refreshing to experience.

“Oh, well, that’s nice to hear, but your name is what I would like to know.”

A tender smirk stretches your lips, a red hue dusting your cheeks as he tips his hate apologetically before uttering a response, “Alastor Hartifelt. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he pauses, quirking a brow at you expectantly, and you take a moment to analyze him further.

You've heard your father utter his name many times before your departure to the north. He'd described him brutally, having less than pleasant things to say about bounty hunters in general but especially about the man in front of you now. You'd heard people talk of his deeds, deals, and evil.

He was dubbed the ‘Red Reaper’ for a good reason, lurking around in the bitter nights and drawing blood from one poor soul or another in his travels.

Supposedly, he was a terrifying monster, but you'd always found beauty in the demented. It was one of the reasons your father had sent you away, but fortunately, the influence of the posh upper class did nothing to change your consciousness.

Besides, the rumors had failed to mention how attractive the red reaper was, let alone dashing. He seemed nice enough hadn't flashed his weapon, threatened, or catcalled you disrespectfully.

So, you found no harm in telling him your name, “Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hartifelt.” You blink slowly, drowning in his red eyes, unconsciously swaying where you stood, back to a wall that hid your presence near him from your father's eyes and the curious stares of others.

Alastor glanced at the space beside him, silently asking that you join him, but unlike most women, he rarely took an interest in, you didn't move until he asked you outright.

“Would you care to join me for a drink, Miss L/n? I'd like to have your company for a while..”

He doesn't speak any louder than needed, using every bit of charm he has to lure you in, and you let him believe he's succeeded with a sensual laugh and purring laugh.

“Why, I thought you'd never ask..”

**Cowboy Alastor** asks a lot of questions. Subtly gathering information about you that he has no use for.

You give him answers; some are lies, others are indiscriminate truths, but you can't bring yourself to be completely honest with a stranger known for his cunning. He keeps your glass full, pacing the liquor with you, reveling in your gentle laughter after every sip, and softening faster and faster the longer you conversed.

You kept your wits about you as best as possible, inviting his fleeting touches but never going further than whispering in his ear or tapping a finger under his sharp chin when he'd stare too long.

Alastor didn't mind your soft hands on him, nor your lingering gaze and confident provocations. He absentmindedly returned the gestures just as boldly.

Your fifth glass of whiskey was running low, and without a hint of hesitation, he refilled it alongside his own. You watched as the amber liquid filled each glass, utterly relaxed as he spoke to you tenderly, “You say your father sent you far up north. May I ask why?…”

He peers at you, sliding the transparent glass into your waiting hand, and you chuckle wryly while taking a sip. “Daddy says it was for my good. You see, my mother is a stickler about manners, and I didn't have much of any growing up. Ironic, seeing as I was raised well enough.” you paused, frowning at the memory of your strict but loving mother.

She was lovely to look at and kind most of the time, but her ambitions for you outweighed her patience. Alastor noted the haunting sadness in your eyes but said nothing as you continued, looking out into the crowd of patrons fussing about as you did.

“My mother died a few years back, leaving daddy to handle me, and when he realized he couldn't manage the business and a daughter, he sent me away. Couldn't blame him either; I was getting into trouble left and right and had some bad habits on the rise, too.”

His ears perked at the words ‘bad habits’ leaving your lips, naturally drawn to knowing a mortal's darkest secrets, so he pressed for clarification.

“Bad habits, you say? I couldn't imagine a sweet thing like you havin’ such things.”

You scoffed, glad your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol buzz to mask the blush his comment invoked, “Well…I did. Still do if I'm honest.” you admit in a hushed tone, knocking back the last of your drink before glancing his way.

“It's hard to resist doing things you're good at.”

Alastor leaned back into the seat, drink in one hand, the other fixing his hat so it sat back on his head. The adjustment gave you a peek at his fluffy red hair and the distinctive blood-marked x on his forehead. You thought to ask what the mark meant but saved the question for later, as he agreed with your statement.

“Very true, ma chere. Although I'm one for killin’, your passion may not be so grizzly and easier to alleviate.”

“My father thinks gambling is just as bad as killing. It doesn't matter if he's addicted to it himself or not. If I do it…I'm the devil's daughter in his eyes..” You roll your eyes, an action that jolts a nerve Alastor hasn't felt in years and subconsciously doesn't ignore.

“Gambling? That's your unproper poison?” he narrows his gaze as you nod lazily, a few ringlets of your hair falling from its pinned-up style as you do, resting on the skin of your shoulders and neck.

Soft.

Your locks look soft and silky to the touch, tempting him to run his fingers through it, across your skin, and, god forbid, under your dress.

A heavy breath settled in his chest at the possibility, a familiar rush coursing through him as you moved your lips to speak, “Yes. I see a stack of playin’ cards, and I just can't help myself. I got rather good at playing too but when you beat everyone in town at it people start to be less kind about your reputation.”

You laugh, attempting to make a light-hearted joke but ultimately grimacing at the mention of lousy sportsmanship from others. You couldn't help winning a challenge in poker, and many saw the talent as disgraceful, which prompted I'll rumor about you.

“That's a shame, sugar. Everyone deserves a chance to play a good game of their choosing.” he feigns concern, meeting your curious eyes as you shift to face him, “Everyone except me if my father has anything to say about it. Still, I suppose it's best I let it go…” you sigh, grabbing the bottle of whiskey to pour another shot.

Suddenly, you freeze, feeling his body heat invade your space. Alastor tilts his head down close to yours, breathing in your scent discretely before pressing his lips to the lobe of your ear as he mutters into it, “Why don't you play a game with me, chere? One lil’ round for fun… right under your daddy's nose, hm?”

The burn of excitement seizes your body, a shakey breath leaving your lips as his voice settles in your mind, inviting you to indulge his offer. That same heat pooled in your core with every second he spent in your space, inhaling the scent of bourbon and sweet sugar cane grass he rode through radiating off him, words just as inviting and addictive.

For a horrifying, well-feared killer, he sure did entice a woman like any natural-born gentleman…

It was a deathly combination you knew he often used, killing or not, and though it'd be wise to avoid his idea, you didn't want to risk missing an opportunity for the thrill.

It'd been so long, too long, and what's the worst that could happen?

Losing to him?

You'd never lost to anyone before, and you were confident that fact wouldn't change -even going up against the Red Reaper himself.

**Cowboy Alastor** relishes when you utter a ‘yes’ to his offer. His grin widens menacingly for a split second as he sets his glass down next to your empty one, conjuring up a meticulously detailed deck of playing cards and placing them on the table.

“You can choose which game we play, sugar…”

Alastor shifts away from you, letting you regain your composure and watching as your delicate fingers reach for the top card of the deck.

“Poker. A favorite of mine..” You didn't think twice before answering him, admiring the red and black ace in your hand, wondering where he acquired such personalized playing cards.

“Poker it is then, chere,” he smirks wickedly, removing his hat entirely to set it on the table before gingerly plucking the card from your hold and sliding to sit opposite you while dishing out equal amounts of cards between you.

Your eyes light up under the oil lamp's golden hue, studying the flick of his hands as he worked, trying hard not to wander up to his piercing gaze. Afraid he'd immediately see your attraction to his nimble hands, well to him in general, and use it against you somehow, so your focus remains on the hand dealt and not him.

As you both plucked your respective set from the table, studying the cards intently, you asked the singular most crucial question every poker match was built on.

“What will the bets be,” Your innocent inquiry earns sultry laughter from him, filling the air, raising feverish chills on your skin as he stares at you through half-lidded eyes.

“I prefer bargains of the soul, my dear. The use and price of one's existence is always more valuable than money, don't you agree?”

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A/N: Don't be mad AT ME, GUYS, PLEASE. I HAD EXAMS LAST WEEK. I'm SORRY FOR DROPPING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH… sort of, but I'm back now (please do hate me :((( ). Uh, so I might merge “Down in the Dust” with this because both stories kinda originated in my brain at the same time. However, since this is a request, I wrote a two-part tangent smut as a sort of prequel to the other fic! Also, the phrase “Save a horse. Ride a cowboy” will be unironically used…I'm sorry (I'm not lol) ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ] VOLUME WARNING!!! 🗣️

Fun fact: In the South, we have a rule that if you take a cowboy hat and end up wearing it, they catch you with it (preferably in the mutual interest of getting to know each other). That cowboy gets to fuck you (hopefully, but technically you're initiating a flirting game wearing their hat, lol). It's a cute concept and one any Cowboy Alastor enthusiast should think about. ❤️ credits to the creator.