#there's a time for theory and then there's a time

[twilightofthesandwiches]

Okay so…

Most the TV-Tastic Prizes Tenna lists during the intro of his show are directly related to the Dreemurrs and their interests/personalities. It’s pretty understandable when you think about it, as their household TV, Tenna only has the Dreemurrs as reference to what kind of prizes people would be most interested in.

The Floral Cowboy Bath Curtains obviously references Asgore, it’s a domestic item that combines his well-known love of flowers and his literally-just-now-established fondness for Woody’s Roundup. (From Tenna's perspective, this is just as important, if not more so, than flowers, because he mainly experiences his family through the shows they watch on him.)

The Brand New Family Car might reference the fact that Toriel’s car is getting a bit old, or maybe even it’s slashed tires (if Tenna doesn’t know enough about cars to understand which problems are very easily fixed). But mostly it’s just a generic prize for a family, demonstrating that this is still how Tenna sees the Dreemurrs, as one big happy family. In reality, with only Toriel and Kris living at home, even the car they have now might be a tad oversized, but Tenna is obviously in denial about that.

(The Ice-E decals might be a reference to Asriel’s Ice-E Brand Deodorant, or just the general fact that Ice-E seems to be a popular brand with the children of Hometown, and Tenna’s mental image of Kris and Asriel is still based on how they were as kids.)

The Big Bro’s Talker-Backer, as a goofy tech toy with the words ‘big bro’ right in its name, is based on the kinds of toys Asriel liked when he was young. Again, in Tenna’s (metaphorical) eyes, he and Kris are still the children who watched cartoons and played games on him. He hasn’t fully processed the idea that Asriel is basically an adult now.

The Kitchen Sink Fur-Guard is, well, that’s obviously something the Dreemurrs need.

Since it’s for the Kitchen Sink specifically, it’s probably meant to be a Toriel Prize, since she's the one who loves cooking the most.

… or maybe it's just because that’s the sink closest to Tenna. The bathroom sink is too far away from the living room for Tenna to be aware of it most of the time.

And the Chocolate Chewy Roll-Um’s are obviously for Notorious Sweet-Tooth Kris Dreemurr. Flavored after their second favorite food!

Now… the thing is that this prize roll-call ends with…

Originally, I just wrote off the Genuine Ralsei Plush as a silly meta-joke. Or, like, part of the ongoing thematic thread about Darkner Personhood in this Chapter. Where Tenna and Ralsei, as the two lead Darkners of the Chapter, keep alternating between treating the other as a Person and as an Object.

And like, it is that, but also, there is an in-universe explanation for why Tenna decided to make it one of the main prizes he uses to sell the show. Because Tenna first heard of Ralsei’s existence…

…During Susie and Kris’ little chat on the sofa.

The Ralsei Plush is supposed to be a prize for Susie because the Literally Only Two Things Tenna knew about Susie at the time is “likes Giant Monster Movies” and “has two Darkner friends named Ralsei and Lancer”. The Susiezilla Minigame is Tenna’s attempt to appeal to the former, the Ralsei Plushie is his attempt to appeal to the latter.

Obviously that still loops back to Tenna’s tendency to kinda see Ralsei as an object (the same way Ralsei did to him at the end). He has a much better understanding of the appeal of Kaiju Movies, why Susie loves them and how to replicate that appeal for her in the Dark World.

But then he’s like, well, Susie really likes that Darkner friend of hers… obviously I understand why.... it's because he'd be great as a Marketable Plushie! Obviously the next best thing if she can’t take him to the festival! (I assume he went with Ralsei Plushies cause they seemed much more conventionally marketable to Tenna's Normie Mass-Entertainment Taste.... also from a Doylist perspective this thread of Darkner Personhood isn't as much as a big deal for Lancer's character at the moment)

[theabigailthorn]

hi. Just wanted to say, your coming out vid years ago was like the floodgates opening for me to consider myself as a trans guy. I was pretty young at the time, and I was suppressing myself a lot when it comes to gender, with ppl in my life calling transness a "social contagion". (I had a lot of trans friends, so I wanted to prove the theory wrong and be sooooo cis, like the cissest person, I guess to "validate" them, lol).

At first, when I watched your video, I recognized myself, I couldn't deny that, but I reacted to this recognition with self hatred and distress (which I suppose a lot of us go through.) But seeing you so happy in your own transition over time made me actually see a happy life for myself as a man. It's not an easy road (l've only been truly out to myself as a man for about a year), but I think it was the best road I could have taken.

(p.s. I don't believe in the "social contagion" bs, but if it is real, it's the best "sickness" l've ever had).

this is very sweet and also I hope when I die and God shows me my playthrough stats I get to see how many eggs I've cracked cause in the global leaderboard I must surely be somewhere near the top

[madebycloud]

ALL MINE

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you and jinx have been satisfying each other's needs with no labels, no strings attached. just two adults who have fun with each other every now and then. simple, right? or at least, simple in theory, right up until you start feeling jealous when you see her with someone else. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: MDNI 18+, fluff, slight angst, smut, G!P reader (don't like, don't read), friends with benefits/fuck buddies, unprotected p in v, college au, porn with some plot, cunnilingus, throat fucking, fingering, spanking, semi-public, creampies, one sided feelings but not really one sided, insecure!reader, kinda nerd!reader, R is so petty, R is so annoying, R is a dick, R is a pussy words: 13.5k

College sucks.

With the shitty attendance of professors, the endless workload, all those projects and essays and presentations, the tests and quizzes, shitty group work with shitty partners.

So much stress just for the possibility of a shitty grade.

...

Being an adult and balancing a life with school SUCKS.

But thankfully, there are a few things that make it bearable.

Like a certain blue-haired currently sitting at the edge of your desk, legs on either side of you, face flushed and biting her bottom lip as she muffles her moans. 

“F-fuck... you... you, d-damn—” The grip on your hair tightens and her back arches while your tongue slides up her needy slit. “Oh, that— that feels so good—”

Jinx tastes so sweet, so perfect, your hands rest on the pale skin of her thighs, keeping her legs from moving or closing in. Her eyes slam shut, head hangs back, her breathing hitch every time your tongue slips past her folds. 

“I'm gonna, ah f-fuck, I'm coming—” and before she has the chance to get out the rest of those words, her hips writhe and quiver, shaking with a climax that has you holding on to her thighs to keep her from slipping off the edge of your desk. 

She comes all over your tongue, and you keep licking her slowly, helping her through her high until she starts to push you off.  

You pull back and look up at the bluenette in front of you. There is a thin stream of her juices running down her quivering thighs that makes you want to keep going, but instead, you force yourself to lean back on your chair, watching her attempt to straighten up her skirt and collect herself. 

“F-fucking... jesus christ. I hate you.”

It's such a conflicting statement because her words are one thing, but the wrecked and completely satisfied look on her face says something else entirely.

“Yeah, I'm sure you do,” you say with a smirk and wipes your chin. “Can I go wash my face now? I've got a class in a bit.”

“Fine, go.” Jinx climbs off from your desk. There's a slight tremble in her legs (thanks to you) that she quickly tries to hide but fails anyway. She runs a hand through her hair, fixing it as she stands there. 

You get up from your chair and stretch first—college is doing a number on your back, you swear—and walk over to the sink in the corner of your dormitory room to wash your face, leaving her to recover.

Jinx had been in your room more than hers. One, because it's better than bunking with her annoying roomie. Two, because there is more privacy. Three, your room's walls are not as thin as hers, so you can let loose sometimes. The noises she made, the noises you both made...it was a good thing your room had decent soundproofing.

There are times that you do it in her room, if her roommate is not there, but more often than not, it's here in your dorm. You've had her bent over every possible surface, every possible place that you're certain she can't walk out the next day.

Your thoughts bring a little smirk to your face as you finish toweling your face dry, and that smirk stays there as you head back to where Jinx is sitting on the edge of your bed.

You could go for another round, you're still in the mood, really. But unfortunately, your next class starts in a few minutes.

You walk to your closet and pull out a fresh shirt, one that doesn't smell like Jinx yet. You throw the old one in the laundry, it's already marked by her anyway, and put on a new shirt.

“Gotta go, my class is starting soon.” You turn around as you pull the hem down. “Are you just gonna stay here?”

Jinx sighs before she shrugs. “I'll just stay here for a while. Maybe I'll take a nap or something.” 

“No classes for you today?”

“Nope, lucky enough not to have any classes.” She shrugs again and swings her legs back and forth. “I'm free.”

You nod then grab your backpack from the floor, slinging it on one shoulder.

Just as you reach for the door handle, Jinx calls out, “Hey.”

You stop and turn to look over at her. “Yeah?”

“Kat's throwing a party tomorrow.” Jinx leans back, both arms braced behind her, raising an eyebrow at you. “You coming?”

“I might.”

If you didn't have a ton of homework and papers to grind out, yeah, probably. Jinx knows that. She also knows that you have...other things that are more important than some party with a bunch of drunken and horny adults.

Yet Jinx smirks at your response, like you've given the answer she's been hoping for.

Jinx stands up and closes the distance between you, stopping a few inches away. “You should come... you could use a little break.” She lifts up a hand to dust off your shoulder as if there's any lint on it. “Let loose. Relax. Have a little fun for a change?”

A party...you haven't been to any parties since freshman year. No time. You haven't had the time to, not with your classes and work and the million other things that fill your schedule.

“College is eating at me alive and you want me to party, huh? I don't have time for that, you know that.”

Jinx laughs, and the hand on your shoulder slowly slides down over your chest, stopping right at your stomach. “One evening, is all I'm asking.”

How long has it been since the last time you've had a few hours... hell a few minutes... to just hang back and unwind? A 'break' these days means you grab some sleep, shower, and then go back to studying until your eyes water. 

“C'mon, just one evening. Have some fun. Besides...” She leans closer, lowering her head to the side of your neck. “I'd really, really, really love it if you come.”

Your skin practically crawls with the way her words and her breath caress your skin, and the way she whispers things like that...how can you say no to that?

Your shoulders sag, and you exhale in an audible sigh. “Fine,” you finally say. “I'll be there.”

Jinx pulls back her head, grinning widely, satisfied with her victory. “Okay, off you go then. Go to class now, shoo.”

You roll your eyes as she shoos you out the door, giving you a light tap on the shoulder to hurry.

It's not like you have much of a choice. You already know you're going to give in, and she knows it too.

“Don't make me regret this.”

“You won't!” Her voice calls out behind you once you step into the hallway of your dorm. “Promise!”

—

You step into the house where the party is, and jesus christ it's so damn loud. Your ears immediately start hurting because the music is blasting everywhere and you're not even sure how this place hasn't gotten noise complaints yet.

Looking around the living room, the first thing you notice is all the people are everywhere, all crammed into this one little place that it's almost suffocating to wade through.

Some people, you recognize. Katarina, for sure. She's sitting on a couch next to a guy with brown hair and they're both downing some sort of drinks in shot glasses.

A few others that you've had brief interactions with, but not enough to remember their names. Then there are the people that you don't know at all. Those guys are probably seniors. Or... maybe freshmen?

And there's one thing that is and has always been the same in college parties: the alcohol. Most of these people are here to drink, and there's plenty of it.

On the counter? A huge array of liquor bottles, some you've heard of and some you haven't. Probably the latter ones will mess you up real fast if you're not careful. On the fridge? It is packed full of beer, champagne (who the hell brings expensive champagne to a college party of all things?), and what is probably some type of jungle juice.

You're just about to turn around and go back to your lonely dorm when a different voice rings through the noise. “You came!”

You look directly in front of you, and lo and behold, Jinx was right there.

You wonder how the hell you didn't notice her earlier (maybe it was the noise, or maybe it was you being distracted by all the other people). She looks surprisingly sober too, considering she's at a college party. 

“I knew you would come,” Jinx says, grinning. “Just couldn't resist...could you?”

Jinx is wearing a short red plaid pleated skirt with a black leather belt, and black cropped top that stops just under her breasts, showing off her taut stomach and a small bit of midriff.

Her attire is almost like a goddamn crime because it looks like it shouldn't look good, but it actually does look good. It looks too good. She looks so fucking good that it should be illegal.

Jinx notices the way you're looking at her, and then a smirk crosses her face. “You like what you see?” She does a little twirl, as if to show it off for you.

Hell yeah. You like it a lot more than you should. Jinx's gorgeous and sexy as hell, and you know damn well that if she had been wearing this earlier in the day, you'd have skipped class to have your way with her.

“Mhm. I would love to just pick you up and fuck you against the wall here and now.”

The smirk on her lips somehow just seems to get even wider, then she cocks an eyebrow and tips her head to the side. “What's holding you back then?”

“Well, maybe the fact that there's a million people here and I have a lot of self-control.” Okay, maybe that self-control is being tested at this moment.

“Aww, that's not a fair excuse.” Jinx pouts and takes a step closer, making your eyes snap downward to what bit of her thighs she's showing off under the skirt. “I can tell that you want some privacy.” she trails her finger across your chest “And trust me, I want it too.”

Your patience snaps, and really, seriously, what's the worst that could happen? 

You grab her arm, maybe a little too tight, and she actually giggles when you turn and start briskly walking towards the stairs, pulling her behind you. 

You don't know this house at all, but there's no time to care because you want to get her alone now, and privacy won't be found downstairs. Luckily, the house is big, so not all the rooms have occupants, and with some searching, you find a spare room and open the door, pushing her inside.

“Impressive. You actually managed to—” Jinx is interrupted as soon as you shut the door behind you and lock it, then push Jinx up against it, pressing your body into hers, making her gasp and arch her back from the impact.

Even though she looks a little surprised, not a single protest leaves her mouth because all she can focus on is how your lips are instantly on her neck, trailing up and down and nipping across her throat. Jinx lifts her hands, fingers gripping the shoulders of your shirt. 

With one hand on her hip, you use the other to push her crop top and bra up, bunching it past her collarbone. You kiss her down, reaching the top of her breast. Wrapping your lips around her nipple, then you suck it gently while your free hand moves to the other, pinching and rolling her pink bud.

You pay attention to both—her pale skin covered in a light glaze of sweat. Each nipple is teased, alternating between a gentle, barely-there feel of your tongue and a more firm pressure as you pull them between your teeth, her moans your only guide.

When Jinx seems to be losing patience, you finally release her with a small pop noise, lifting your head up to look at her again. The smirk is gone from her face, lips parted, panting slightly as that hand on your shoulder tightens.

As you move closer, her lips part instinctively, and you take advantage of that as you claim her mouth in a bruising kiss, tongue snaking past her lips. 

Your hand wanders, going down to her hips, underneath that damnably short skirt, slipping past the fabric of her panties. Jinx gasps as your fingers slide across her folds. You curse at how wet she already is.

“You're dripping so much, Jinx,” you say against her mouth. You pull away, lips trailing down her neck until they reach her ear, biting it gently, earning you a breathy moan from her. “Have you been like this the whole night, or was it just when you saw me?”

Jinx's thighs twitch involuntarily when you circle your thumb, pressing on her clit. “You know the answer, idiot.”

You chuckle softly, then slowly push two fingers past her folds, making her hips jolt. Your knuckles flex and your fingers curl, as if getting acquainted with your new favorite place. 

Jinx giggles, just a little, before the sound dissolves into a soft moan. “Hurry up...” she pants.

You start up a rhythm, starting slow at first, wanting to take your time and make her wait, but her hips desperately trying to grind herself against your fingers just spur you on to go a little faster. 

“Be patient.” Yet, you speed up your pace, and she almost chokes when you crook your fingers. “You look like you're enjoying my fingers just fine.” 

“Fuck— yeah— I am,” she admits. Jinx's head falls against your shoulder, trembling hands moving to grip your biceps, clinging to you to keep herself from being slumped in a heap on the ground.

“Yeah?” A part of you is surprised she even admits that. After all, Jinx has quite the ego. “I can tell.”

Her walls flutter around you, gasping loudly and burying her face in your neck. Jinx presses her forehead onto your collarbone as she shudders each time your fingers thrust inside her.

You bite your lip to hide your grin—you love the sound of her whiny, needy noises, and she's so damn beautiful that you can really understand how she's the most hated person at school... and at the same time, the most desired. 

“Shh, someone might hear you,” you whisper, even though the music is pounding downstairs.

Jinx shakes her head, lifting her head up to kiss your neck and jaw. “Don't care.”

Anyone who's downstairs definitely won't be able to hear her over the music, but still. “If you're too loud, other people can hear you.”

Jinx's response is to laugh, a low chuckle that borders on a whine as she tries to push herself against your hand. “I don't care, okay? I just don't— mmmh, don't care, just shut up and keep going.”

You keep up with your rhythm, fingers moving rougher as you hear soft gasps and moans coming out from her. There's no time for gentleness, and there's definitely no room for any teasing. You're not about to waste much time when there's so little of it to begin with. 

“I'm gonna— gonna come—” A bite on her neck challenges her, dares her to let go. And that's exactly what she needs. She clenches around your fingers with a soft cry, making her weak-kneed and leaving that filthy mess of her juices coating your digits. 

You keep your fingers moving until you're certain that she's done, and when she finally does settle down, you pull your hand away, licking her slick off of them.

Jinx leans heavily against the door, catching her breath, trying to recover her bearings.

Watching her like this, all flushed and sweaty, makes you want to drag Jinx back to your place and just fuck her right there. You want to put her on your lap, grinding against you, watching her like a piece of art while you stretch her open.

Maybe you'd even tell her how good it feels to have your fingers curled up inside of her, how you can't get enough of how good she feels wrapped up in your arms,and how the taste of her on your tongue never fails to make you crave more. 

Maybe you'd even tell her how much you find yourself missing her when you're apart, how you spend more time searching for her across the campus. Maybe you'd even go as far as to admit out loud that you want to kiss her just as much as you want to eat her out.

...and yet you hold all of that stuff back because, in the end, you're not a fool. Jinx doesn't do nice things, sweet words or soft whispers. She's rough, blunt, harsh, a rough diamond, more trouble than she's worth.

Still, you can't stop yourself from wanting to pull her closer to you, just to hold on. So you do. Hands finding the bare skin of her waist, where her cropped top ends, and you let your fingers trail up and down that patch of bare skin.

“You okay?” 

The question just slips off your tongue, and the second it does, you cringe at how soft it sounds.. it's because of the stupid, weird feeling that's currently squeezing your heart.

“Shut up, that was-” Jinx starts to say, but she cuts herself off when she hears your question, eyes narrowing slightly and she just looks at you for a second, gaze calculating. Her expression then softens a bit, and she sighs. Maybe she likes how soft you sound, maybe she doesn’t. “Yeah. I'm okay.”

You feel better that Jinx actually says it, and you smile. “Good.” 

Jinx scoffs, but she returns the smile. It's just a small smile that most people would pass by, miss, forget, but it's there. Maybe you would have missed it too, except you know her, so you see it. That gives you some kind of stupid, foolish hope. And that stupid, foolish hope starts to make its way over. 

Slowly, the smile fades from both of your faces, and she's just looking at you.You don't know what she's looking for, but you hope she doesn't see too much.

You don't want her to see more than what she should, and you don't want her to know how much this (whatever the fuck this is), is starting to mean to you. You don't want her to realize that you've fallen for her, that you're more than just physically attracted to her. Because if she knew that, she might…do something. You're not even sure anymore what she'd do. And you don't know if you could handle whatever rejection she might come up with.

Maybe it's a good thing you don't know. You don't want to know. it's better if you just don't think of it. 

Jinx notices you just staring at her, then she rolls her eyes and snorts. “You're so disgusting, dude.” Her gaze then drifts down to the bulge straining your pants, and the smirk that crawls on her face makes your cock twitch. “Need some help with that?”

You huff out a laugh, though the smirk fades away when Jinx's hand touches your belt, and you hear the clinking as she's unbuckling it.

You catch her wrist, stopping her.

She scoffs. “I'm literally trying to be charitable here, and you won't let me?”

“...I don't want to make a mess.”

Jinx grins mischievously “You think a little mess will stop me?” and then she's dropping to her knees in front of you, hands undoing your belt. “You know I'm more than happy to clean up.”

She tugs your pants and underwear, dropping them down to your ankles. At this point, the only thing getting you through this is the knowledge that the door is locked.

Though, Jinx doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she's almost smug about it, licking her lips when she sees how hard you are.

She chuckles. “Damn.” Jinx brings her hand up to your cock, running a finger over the tip, watching the small beads of pre cum drip out of the slit. “I know you won't last long.” She then moves her hand around the base and gives it a couple of pumps. “But I'll be nice and make it good for you.”

That earns her a low groan of approval, and you place your hands against the door behind her. “Be quick about it, then.”

Jinx clicks her tongue and laughs, pumping your cock faster. “Don't worry, gorgeous. I'll make this quick.” Without waiting for your response, she guides your already soaked tip across her lips, giving her a lip gloss before she wraps her mouth around it and slowly starts bobbing her head.

Your eyes flutter shut, but the visual is too good for you to keep your eyes closed for long. You look down at her, watching your length disappear between her lips. The bluenette never breaks the eye contact, swirling her tongue around the tip of your dick before she takes it up and down her throat. 

That pulls another moan-groan out of your mouth, but with the loud music, it's not like anyone downstairs is going to hear you. Still, you're trying to keep relatively quiet. 

Jinx, however, doesn't have that problem, and her loud slurping noise nearly sends you over. Even with your girth stretching her lips, she manages to give you a smirk. She slides her hands down, fingers massaging your balls as she takes your cock deeper into her tight throat. She just keeps moving her head, making sure her tongue is wrapped along your shaft while her eyes stay locked on yours.

“You've gotten good at this, baby...”

Jinx pulls back, lips shiny with pre-cum, licking at the corner of her mouth as saliva drools from her chin. “It's not like I've had any other practice. You're the only one I do this with.” She moves her hand, stroking you and spreading her saliva all over your cock. “Besides, it helps when you have a pretty big one.” She gives you a cheeky smile before her mouth is back on your tip, caressing the slit with a flat tongue. 

Despite trying to tease you, Jinx is starting to look desperate. She looks up at you as she starts bobbing her head at an almost reckless pace, sucking your dick deeper with more enthusiasm.

You're not going to last like this, you know it, and so does she. Your hands slip away from the door to cup her head, fingers curling around her braids as the muscles of your stomach tighten. You grip her hair hard as you start fucking her mouth, shoving your cock into her.

Jinx gags herself on your cock with every thrust of your hips, yet her throat willingly takes every inch of you. She looks like a mess, mascara running, drool dripping out of her mouth, and a bit of water in her eyes. Even so, she tries to get you closer, deeper, all the way to the base until her nose touches the skin of your pelvis.

“F-fuck, Jinx— I'm— I'm gonna—”

Jinx nods the best she can while your hands hold firmly to her braids. And that's all it takes. The sound of her name coming from your lips ends up buried by the sound of the party outside the door. You press your hips against her face, releasing your load down her throat, filling her mouth with your cum. 

She swallows every last drop until her stomach is full of you, then pulls her head back, your softening, spent cock out of her mouth. Her lips are swollen and glistening, a bit of your cum smeared on her chin. She wipes a finger across her lips, catching the few drops she missed, and licks it off.

After a few minutes of trying to catch your breath, you pull your pants back up and fasten your belt, then reach down to bring her up. 

She laughs—not her usual raucous, crazed laugh—and takes your hand, standing up on shaky legs. You then step back, giving her the space she needs to straighten up her clothing. Jinx smooths out her skirt and pulls her top and bra back into place before wrapping her arms around your waist. 

She rubs the side of her face against your chest, staining your shirt and smearing her makeup even more. “You ruined my hair.”

The hair is indeed a lost case, her braids now loose and messy. Jinx shakes her head in mild frustration, a few stray locks landing over her face. She huffs and blows them away. 

You grin, amused. “Maybe you shouldn't have worn it like this, then.”

“Don't be an ass. It took me forever to do my braids that way, and it was all ruined with your stupid hands pulling on them.” Jinx pushes away from you, groaning. “UGH, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

You snort, and she walks towards the door. She opens it and peeks outside. Once she's sure that no one's around, Jinx then slips out the door and out into the hall, and you follow behind as she heads off to the bathroom.

You lean against the wall outside, waiting, folding your arms over your chest. 

An hour or so later, Jinx returns, stopping in front of you with hands on her hips. “How do I look?”

You check her out. She looks much tidier than she did before. the makeup on her face is completely gone, her hair is neater, and her top and skirt are less rumpled.

You drop your arms as you push off the wall. “You look fine.” 

That, predictably, gets a scoff out of her. “Just fine? Not gorgeous, not stunning, not ravishing, not perfect, not a goddess? Just fine? I'm offended.”

You roll your eyes, but a grin slips through anyway. “I'm sorry. You look beautiful and ravishing and stunning. I think you're the most gorgeous, alluring, perfect woman in the world.”

Jinx smiles and flicks her braid, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Perfect,” she says. “Let's go.”

You follow her downstairs, which are a lot louder than they were before. You wince at the sound, already preparing yourself for more noise for the rest of the night.

Jinx notices and laughs. “Too loud for you?”

“Ugh, yes. I'm not sure my eardrums will survive the night.” 

Jinx laughs again, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. She glances around the house before turning to look at you. “Gotta go get a drink. You go and enjoy the party,” she says, before adding, “And if you happen to wanna leave, just stop and let me know before you do, okay?”

She pats your shoulder, turns and heads off to find a drink. You watch Jinx disappear into the crowd and find that your hand is on your shoulder, fingers rubbing at the spot where she just touched you.

Okay... that one's a bit weird and a little pathetic.

You give yourself a mental slap and turn away, trying to find something to divert your attention.

It's not hard to find something to look at. There's a group of people that are already getting drunk and starting to do stupid things like standing on tables and yelling. Some people are starting to play a card game near the counter, and there's a crowd of people that are cheering them on, and somewhere between all of this and Jinx disappearing behind the crowd, you decide that you really want a drink.

You walk over to the kitchen (where it's slightly better than the rest of the house, honestly). There's more room to breathe, and the noise is more bearable. 

You grab a cup near the punch bowl and fill it with some of whatever has been spiked in this thing, then take a drink.

“You need some help with that?” A new voice comes up behind you. You look over. Long blonde hair, pretty eyes with glasses. You've seen her around before but never really talked to her. “Uhm, Lux, by the way.”

“Hmm? Oh, no, I'm good, thanks.” You smile politely. “Just taking a break from the party. It's getting too loud in there.”

“Right?” Lux laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and then sighs. She comes up to the counter and hops up, then takes a gulp of her own drink. “Honestly? I don't know why I even came here, parties aren't really my thing.”

“Mhmm same.” You nod, relieved that someone feels the same as you. “My friend dragged me here. I'm usually not big on parties either, too many drunk people and loud people and—”

“—too much happening at once.” She finishes your sentence. “I totally get that.”

There's a moment of silence as you and Lux just drink your drinks. Then, she speaks up. “You don't really look familiar…” her eyebrows scrunching up a bit in confusion. “Do you, by any chance, know Jinx?”

“Yeah, I know her,” you say, a bit surprised that she asked. “I'm guessing you do too?”

“I do.” She gives you a small smile. “She and I used to be pretty close back in high school.”

Huh. you didn't know this. You tilt your head at the new information. “You guys don't talk anymore?” you ask out of curiosity.

Lux shrugs at your question. “We still talk sometimes... but not as much as we used to.” A pause. “Are you— are you two close at all?”

“We're close,” you answer without any hesitation. You're a bit curious about why Lux is asking so many questions about you and Jinx.

She nods at your answer. “I figured as much.” Lux looks like she wants to say more, but she suddenly looks in the living room, then a soft snort leaves her nose. 

You follow her gaze. And there, in the corner of the room, is Jinx, leaning over the billiard table, lining up a shot.

Except, she's not alone. Behind her is a man, his chin hovering just a few inches from her ear. One of his hands has come up and is cupping one of her elbows. He's telling her to aim at the eight-ball, even though Jinx's clearly not listening and is just laughing at whatever stupid joke he said.

You don't know why, but it pisses you off. Not just a little. A lot.

A scoff leaves your mouth and you turn your attention back to Lux, who is watching you closely. “They seem pretty close.”

Lux hums. “I guess.” She takes a drink from her glass as she looks a little closer at them. “I mean, they've always been like this.” What? Before you can ask, what the fuck does she mean by that, Lux already hops off the counter and smiles at you. “I better go. I think my brother might be looking for me.”

You nod, giving her back a polite smile. “Sure, um, have a good night.”

Lux waves at you before she walks out of the kitchen. You're left standing alone in front of the counter, sipping your drink and watching Jinx and that guy again. 

They look comfortable. Too comfortable. Jinx laughs again at something the man says to her. You can see how the guy is leaning close to Jinx, talking directly into her ear, and when he puts his hand on her back, your fingers tighten against your cup a bit.

...

You shouldn't really care. It's not like you're exclusive.

But you do care, and it pisses you off that you do.

...

This is so stupid. 

You know how stupid this is, how stupid you are for coming here.

You shouldn't have left that comfortable dorm full of silence and peaceful solitude and gone to this stupid party. You had work to do, after all, and you had come here for what? Only to find your not-so-girlfriend getting comfy and cozy with someone?

Before it really gets to you, you turn, push past people, then leave through the front door.

There's no reason to bother saying goodbye to Jinx. She's already got a guy to hang around, and she's doing just fine without you. You don't need to bother sticking around. You just need to get out of here and try to forget you even came.

It's cold outside. The harsh wind is a painful sting against your bare skin. You shiver, and yet you keep walking, trying to get away from this shithole as quickly as possible.

You're just about to mount your bike to pedal your sorry ass back to your dorm and maybe try to sleep off whatever shitty feelings you're feeling when you hear your name called out. You curse because you'd know that voice anywhere.

Jinx stops in front of you and looks at you with something that you wish you didn't notice. 

Concern. 

She looks genuinely concerned. 

“I thought you'd say goodbye, at least,” Jinx says, a little breathless from hurrying. “Are a you—” she stops to catch her breath. “Are you alright?”

You shrug, pretending to be calm, or at least attempting to. “I'm fine,” you mutter, looking off to the side. “I just…remembered I have this stupid paper due on monday.” 

That's bullshit. Jinx knows it, you know it, even your bike knows it. “You're a worse liar than I am.” Jinx steps closer and jabs her index finger against your chest. “What's really going on, huh?”

“Nothing.” 

She scoffs. “Stop bullshitting me. Just spill.”

“I said it's nothing, okay?!”

That came out harsher than you intended, and at the tone, Jinx immediately pulls her hand from your chest. She steps back, arms crossing in front of her, and looks at you.

Jinx has this stupid, damn expression, concern and maybe a sense of understanding all over her face, and you want to take her face in your hands and kiss her because you're being such an idiot, but you're also angry for reasons you don't really like to admit out loud.

You can't tell her you're mad as hell about a guy talking to her because you don't have any right to feel that way over someone who isn't even yours to begin with.

“Don't get snappy with me,” Jinx says. “I'm just trying to check up on you, dickhead.”

“I didn't ask you to.”

It comes out bitter and sharp, and Jinx flinches almost unnoticeably.

Her reaction makes your guilty conscience flare up. You're actually being rude to Jinx, and for what? For being concerned about you? For caring? For just wanting to check on you? You really have no idea what the hell is wrong with yourself, and before you can even try to force an apology out of your mouth, Jinx speaks up.

“Fine.” And in a way you hate yourself for noticing, but you swear you hear hurt in her voice. “I'll just go then.”

Jinx turns, and before you can get a word out, she's already walking away. She doesn't look back at you as she vanishes back inside.

...

You shouldn't have come to that stupid party in the first place.

—

A week. Seven days. 168 hours.

One miserable week of pretending to not care. One week of ignoring her. One week that seems to drag on for an entire year.

A week of sitting in lectures while trying not to think about her, only to fail at it. A week of walking past her in the corridors only to have your eyes linger on her for a second too long while you pretend to not look. A week of having to swallow back the urge to go to her dorm because goddamnit, you miss her.

You're actually getting a little bit sick of pretending. A little bit sick of trying to ignore the guilt gnawing away at your heart. And most importantly, you're really sick of not having someone warm to fall asleep next to. 

And yet, you didn't chase after her. 

You don't even bother to try. How can you? When you're the one who acted like an absolute shithead to her. You don't exactly deserve to even talk to her.

Jinx probably hates you. 

You groan to yourself and close the book. 

You came here to the library to study, not to sit around and wallow in your feelings like some heartbroken love-struck idiot. Which you are, BUT you could at least be a productive idiot.

You get up and gather your books and notes, stuffing them in your bag. You're done studying, for now, at least. You can try again tomorrow, hopefully when you don't have Jinx dancing around in your brain anymore.

You stretch, feeling your stiff muscles complain, then make your way out of the library. The campus is pretty empty this late at night. Most people are either drinking or asleep by now, which is fine by you. Less people to see you sneaking back to your lonely dorm.

Just as you round the corner, you feel a hand catch the crook of your elbow, firm hold, pulling you to a stop.

“Knew you'd be here.”

You whirl around, about to curse, only to be met with the one person you have been avoiding for the past week.

Jinx's hand keeps a tight grip on you, holding you in place without having to even try. 

She's wearing an oversized black shirt along with a pair of pajama pants covered in a pattern of little cartoon bombs with angry eyebrows.

Her eyes meet yours, and your heart does that stupid, fucking annoying thing, beating just a little too fast.

Holy shit. Get yourself together.

You look away, ignoring the rush of feelings that comes with just seeing her again. “I'm going home. What do you want?” You know how they sound—cold, distant. Nothing like you want to sound, but you can't even look at her without wanting to just reach out and touch her.

Jinx lets go of your arm and folds her arms over her chest and cocks her hip, giving you a pointed look. “I'll cut to the chase. Were you jealous of Stephen?”

“Who the fuck is Stephen?”

“You know, the guy I was playing with at the billboard the night of the party? Lux told me you saw us together. Is that why you threw a fucking tantrum because you were jealous?” You scoff, because it's true. Jinx rolls her eyes when you don't answer. “I'm not interested in Stephen, if that's what you're worried about, and he'd sooner die than even look at me like that.”

Then why the hell was he hanging on to her, touching her like that if he didn't—Oh. “Oh...”

“Oh,” Jinx mocks, copying your tone. “Is that what you got out of this? Really? Really?”

You huff, trying to maintain some dignity. “I'm not— doesn't matter. I have to go.” You walk past her, heading towards your dorm.

Jinx groans and follows after you. “You're really that jealous? over a guy who's into dick?” she says as she walks a few steps behind you. “Stephen is just a friend. I've known him since high school.”

You don't grace her with an answer as you walk forward. Yes, you're jealous, which doesn't make sense, because you and Jinx agreed to keep things between you casual. You stop in front of your door and search for your keys while cursing at yourself.

“Seriously? You ignored me for a week just because you were jealous? Just because I was speaking to a friend? A friend I have no attraction towards. A friend I see as like a brother?”

“I'm not.” You unlock the door and head inside. “I just don't like it when someone touches what isn't theirs.”

Jinx just snorts before following you into the room and immediately sits on one of your chairs. She props her feet up on your desk like she owns the place. “Not jealous? Then why do you care who touches what?”

You slam the door shut and drop your bag on the ground. “It bothered me, alr— stop putting your feet on my desk.” You swat her feet off the wood. “Seeing that guy touching you like that, it bothered me more than it should have, and I didn't like how I felt. Sue me.”

Jinx smirks at your words and stands up from the chair, sauntering towards you. “Why's that? afraid that someone's gonna steal me away?”

“I'm not afraid,” you lie and step back until you feel the edge of the bed hitting the back of your knees.

Jinx follows you until you're forced to sit, grinning widely as she stands over you. She chuckles and leans forward, putting her knee on the bed between your thighs. “No? You could've fooled me.”

You lean back, propped on your elbows as you look up at Jinx. A hand comes up to cup the side of your face. Her thumb brushes over your lip before trailing down your throat, chest, and hip, where she tugs on your belt loops and pops it open.

“It's cute how possessive you're being, but also kinda stupid.”

Jinx runs her fingers down the buttons of your pants, taking her time and teasing you. Once they're undone, she pushes them down. 

You bite back the low groans that try to crawl up your throat when you feel her knees brush against your clothed cock. She notices, then presses down on you even more, biting her lip like she just found something delicious to eat.

“Definitely stupid if you think I'm gonna let anyone come between us.” Jinx toys with the edge of your underwear, pulls it down, your cock springing up towards her. “Like I'd let someone else touch me when I've already got you to do it better, hm?”

She wraps her fingers around your shaft, just barely, just enough to tease. Her thumb rubs across the sensitive head. 

“Look at this,” Jinx murmurs, and you're pretty sure your brain will short-circuit when you hear her say, “I missed you.”

You hiss softly. You're not entirely sure if she means you or your cock, and honestly, does it even matter?

Jinx takes her hands off your dick and tuts, annoyed with your silence. “What's wrong? Don't wanna speak? Fine. I know for sure you won't be quiet when your dick's down my throat.” 

She slides off the bed and kneels down between your spread thighs, eyeing your dick shamelessly. Jinx wraps her fingers around you again, and when you buck your hips, she just laughs at you, the sound of it vibrates around your cock.

“Mmmh, so desperate for my attention. You should've just told me that you were being stupid and jealous. Could've saved yourself a week and gotten this sooner.”

Jinx pauses long enough to lean down, and—oh, fuck, you almost choke on a moan when you feel her tongue drag around the head of your cock, licking the precum.

“Don't say I haven't missed you, too, because I have. Just couldn't stand how childish you were being.”

Jinx sucks your tip, swirls her tongue around the slit, and swallows you until you can feel the tip of your cock brush against the back of her throat. Her hand slides down your shaft to fondle your balls. She moans around it, gagging on you as she tries to take more.

You thread your hand into her hair, gently at first, then tighten and pull on it so hard she moans again. Jinx takes your cue, moving with the rhythm you set, head bobbing to the pace you dictate as you shove your cock into her mouth. 

Glancing down, you see her lips are stretched wide around your cock, hollowed to the point where you can see the outline of your length through her skin. Your grip on her braids has worked loose her hair, the strands hanging around her face, framing her eyes.

You don't realize how loud you are until you hear yourself: “Fuck, Jinx... Jinx... Jinx, I'm—”

Hearing you call her name, Jinx grins as much as she can with her mouth stuffed full of your cock. Then she pulls back, giving your tip one teasing circle around the edge of her tongue before she lets you escape from her mouth. 

“Don't you dare ignore me ever again.” Jinx squeezes your balls just a bit, enough to serve as a silent warning. “Got it?”

“Got it,” you gasp, because right now, you'd promise basically any goddamn thing if she'd stop squeezing your balls.

Jinx hums, and the pressure eases off of your poor, abused family jewels. She pats your balls gently like a dog that's been good and leans her face down, her cheek brushing the sensitive head of your cock. 

“Good. You're smarter than I give you credit for.” Jinx drags her tongue up the underside of your shaft, all the way to the tip. “And here I thought your brain had been replaced with your other head.” She presses a kiss on the tip, the softest kiss, like a sweet reward. “Now, do you want it in my mouth again…or do you have something else in mind, hm?”

“You know what I want...” you groan, and your hips buck back towards her mouth reflexively.

Jinx smirks, giving your split-slicked cock another light kiss, this one a little firmer...but just a tease. “Oh yeah? Then why don't you tell me?”

You swallow, breathing hard. “I want… I want to fuck you, Jinx—”

A low, husky chuckle falls off her lips. Then, her fingers slip inside her pants. You can hear them rub against her and hear how wet she already is. 

“Is that what you really want?” Jinx asks, a sly smile on her lips as she slides her soaked fingers out of her pants, holding them up in front of her face. “Think you deserve it?”

Seeing her like this has your hands clenching the bedsheets tightly, and your cock throbs so painfully that it makes you curse, “F-fuck—  please, just… I want… I want to be inside you.”

Jinx's eyes go heavy-lidded at the sound of your curses, and then her focus drops to your aching, hard length. She smirks before she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucks them clean, swirling her tongue around her middle and forefinger, then slides between them up to the knuckle.

She moans softly, eyes closing for a while, letting the taste soak into her senses, and then they open again, locking onto you once more. 

“Oh, someone's eager.” Jinx pulls them out with a pop when she's done. “But, you know... I don't know if you really deserve it, you did ignore me for a week, after all. It really hurt my feelings.”

“I'm sorry,” you croak, watching her get off her knees. “I promise it won't happen. Not again. I won't shut you out. I won't avoid you. Just come here, please.”

Her hand pats your head in a condescending sort of way. “I know, but can you keep your word this time? Or are you just going to ditch me for a week again, you dumbfuck?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I wont. It was stupid. I was angry, but not at you and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Just, please. I want you. Need you.”

Jinx's expression softens, and so does her tone. She climbs on top of your lap, hands resting on your shoulders. “You're forgiven, but if you ignore me again, I'm cutting off your balls.”

You have no doubt that she will. “Understood.”

“Hmm, good,” Jinx murmurs before she threads her hand in your hair and leans down to kiss you. You gasp against her lips, making it easier for her tongue to slip into your mouth, and you open for her eagerly, without protest.

There are too many clothes, too much fabric, and it's starting to be a problem. Jinx seems to be thinking the same thing because she breaks the kiss to pull her shirt off, then tosses it aside to the pile of clothes that scattered at the bottom of the bed.

Your hand slips behind her, finding the clasp of her bra, then undo it, slipping the strap over her shoulders, her arms, before it drops to the floor. Running your lips over her collarbones, Jinx tips her head back, exposing more of her pale skin. You bite and kiss your way across her chest, stopping to pay attention to her pink nipples.

Jinx shudders as you lick her, flicking the bud with your tongue, fingers pulling your hair a little too hard, and you lift your head from her chest, grumbling softly. 

You bite her nipple in response, which causes her to gasp. “Oh fuck—” her voice softens and she giggles “—that feels good.”

Jinx grabs your face, pulling you away from her chest for another kiss. You taste your own blood as she captures your bottom lip with her teeth. You pull away, licking the tiny amount of blood from your lip, then wrap your arm around her hips and flip the both of you, pinning her to the mattress.

She just chuckles and spreads her legs wider, letting you kneel between them. You kiss her neck, pausing to suck on the soft skin of the junction between her neck and shoulder, hands moving down to her pants, pushing them off her hips. Jinx lifts them up to make it easier for you to strip her bare. Once it's off, you toss it to the floor. 

“So fucking perfect,” you say when you get a good look at her. “So wet, just for me, Jinx—”

Jinx shivers and her breath stutter, teeth sinking into her lip as you brush your fingers over her panties, feeling the dampness soak through her underwear. 

“Hurry— ah— get the condom and get it now,” she says impatiently, hooking her thumbs over the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her thighs, kicking them off.

You climb off the bed, dig through the drawer, then pull out a condom. Tearing the package open, you turn around and find Jinx has flipped over, stomach pressed against the sheets, looking back at you over her shoulder with her ass sticking up in the air.

Damn. 

You have to grab the base of your dick to keep yourself from losing it just from the sight of her. The condom hangs in your hand, and you're so distracted you almost don't hear the way she says, “If you don't be in me in ten seconds, I'll take matters into my own hands.”

That is what snaps you back. No way you're letting her use her fingers, especially when you already have your cock throbbing and leaking because of her.

“Yeah, I'm— I'm working on it, hold on, you impatient—” You stumble and climb back onto the bed, kneeling behind her. Hands a little clumsy as you roll on the condom. It's hard to think when your eyesight gets a little blurry from how horny you are.

“Just— fuck, come on—” Jinx pushes her hips back, and you run your hand over her ass, using your other hand to line yourself up, rubbing the head of your cock against her slit. “Just put it— ah fucking finally—” she gasps out as you push yourself in, bracing your hand on the mattress by her hip.

She's so wet that it's easy to slide your cock in. Her words are all you can hear as you push down a little onto the bed, kneeling down to kiss her shoulder blades. “You're perfect, so good, so perfect, your body, your voice, the way you look—”

“The way I feel?”

A grin curves your mouth into a sharp smile. “Especially the way you feel.” The words are pressed against the arch of her spine, tracing kisses down her back. 

Jinx giggles, which melts to a faint whimper when you snap your hips into her. She reaches back, grabbing your hip and digging into your skin. “Come on, you've done this before, shouldn't you be a bit more— ahh— a little better at it, you shithead.”

You huff out a small laugh. She's already impatient, always is, and you just got inside her. “It's just— it hasn't been that long.” Just a week, to be exact. But still. 

“Then you gotta make up for lost time,” Jinx replies breathily, wiggling her ass to urge you on. “Make it count.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, pulling out your aching, dripping cock until just the tip rests around the edge of her cunt before slamming your whole length back into her glistening hole, making her body jerk forward “I'll make it count.” 

You do it again and again, pulling out and driving yourself back into her, each motion more rigorous. Both hands move to hold her down by her shoulders, pushing her torso against the sheets as you fuck her deeper, burying yourself balls deep inside her.

“That's— that's what I thought— oh, fuck!” Jinx chokes out, eyes fluttering with every thrust. 

Her face is squished into the pillow, the fabric already messed up and damp from her drooling mouth, while her hands grip the sheets, fingers twisting in the cloth. 

She manages to reach out and grip the headboard. “Fuck— I missed your cock, missed you—”

Her voice sounds like she's high. High off your body. High off your cock. You wish like hell you got a record of her pretty mouth saying stuff like that. “Say it again. Tell me how much you missed this. How much you missed me.”

Jinx has the nerve to laugh, or tries to, but it quickly turns into a guttural groan, throat getting rough halfway through. “So, so much,” she says, hips rolling. “I missed you so fucking much. So many nights, alone, wishing you were here, touching me, filling me up— ah, like this.”

You take your hand off her shoulders, grip replaced by your arm wrapped around her chest to keep her balance, pulling her up onto her knees and pushing her against the headboard as you pound into her at such a rough and brutal pace. 

“I missed you too.” you breathe next to her ear, lips tracing the shell. “I'm so fucking stupid for ignoring you.” 

You kiss her shoulder, as if in apology, then slam your hips against hers with enough force to nearly send her head forward and colliding into the wall.

Jinx moans with her mouth hanging open, like she can barely breathe, as she braces herself against the headboard. Fingers digging into the wood so hard, it leaves scratches. She pushes back into you, meeting every single one of your thrusts with her own, forcing herself to take your cock as deep as she can. “Oh, fuck— you're so big— gonna make— fuck, I can't, I can't hold it—”

The heat builds up in your body, something hot and tight in your groin, and you can feel your body start trembling, starting from your toes. “Yeah, me too, baby— come with me, Jinx—”

Jinx leans her head backwards, back against your shoulder, head tilted just enough that your face is nuzzled into her cheek while your cock stretches her open. “T-touch me, please— I need you to touch me.”

You keep your pace, relentless and rough. Your hand leaves her waist, palm cupping her breasts, thumb rubbing over her nipple. The other hand goes down, fingers slipping in between her thighs, finding her clit and rubbing it in tight, small circles, in sync with the rocking of your hips, coaxing her to the edge.

Jinx turns her head, lips barely touching. “Ah, gonna— I'm gonna— oh—” her voice trembles, and she clenches around you before she comes, body arching back and trembling in your grip. Her juices spray all over the sheets, dripping down her thighs. 

You aren't far behind, groaning into her ear as your hips lose rhythm and spilling your load into the condom.

Sighing, Jinx falls forward on the sheets, and you drop your head, resting on her shoulder for a second as both of you try to get air back into your lungs and to bring your heart rate back down. Then Jinx smacks your hip lightly, so gently you pull out, collapsing onto the side with a groan, one arm wrapped around her waist.

You brush some of her hair out of her face, tucking some behind her ear before you lean closer, gently kissing her shoulder. “You okay?” 

Jinx doesn't answer. 

You push yourself up on one elbow, leaning the side of your head on your palm. “Water?” you try again, and this time there is a grunt to let you know that she heard you at least.

Jinx lifts her head and twists a bit to peer at you with one eye. “Yeah. Water sounds good, yeah. Bring me a towel as well, please, I don't want to move, my legs feel like jelly.”

You smile before kissing her shoulder once more, then slip out of bed, tossing the used condom into the garbage on your way to grab what she wants.Once you come back with a glass of water and a washcloth, Jinx has managed to pull herself a bit higher on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. 

You pass her the water first, watching as Jinx greedily gulps it down before she sets it on the nightstand. “Thanks.”

Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and use the washcloth to clean off the rest of her mess.  As you do, your mind drifts to the part you hate. Your feelings for her.

There are a lot of things Jinx could be, but to her core, she is a person obsessed with excitement and thrill. A thrill-seeker. A hedonist. She got bored easily. With her short attention span, it was a matter of time before she found something more interesting than you.

“Hey.” Her voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see her staring at you with a slight frown on her lips “Why are you looking so serious all of a sudden?”

Fuck. 

You force a smile on your face and finish cleaning her up. “Mmmm, no real reason. Just thinking.” When you're done, you crumple up the cloth and toss it on the floor.

Jinx reads through your bullshit instantly, head tilting to the side, eyebrow arching in an oddly innocent, yet knowing gesture, and says “You're bullshitting me.” Then pats the open space on the bed next to her, beckoning you. “Come here.”

You almost roll your eyes affectionately and shift to sit back against the headboard next to her. Jinx scoots closer, resting her head on your shoulder, then drapes her leg over yours.

Jinx presses a kiss on your throat, then smiles when she brushes her nose against the underside of your jaw. “Stop thinking so much,” she says, voice soft in a way that she doesn't usually use. “You know I'm yours, right?”

“I know, but...” Just not the way you want her to be.

She pulls back to look at you, squinting her eyes. “But...?”

“I mean, not in a 'official way',” you say, then press a kiss on her forehead, trying to put up a nonchalant front. “Just a fun, you and me thing, no strings attached, right?” You try to play it off like a joke, as if the mere suggestion of being more than this makes you gag.

Jinx rolls her eyes and pulls out of your grip. “Wow, wow, 'just fun, no strings attached'? You're a dick, you know that?”

Inwardly, you berate yourself for that response, because she's right, that was kind of a dick thing of you to say, but you're so desperate not to have this slip away from you.

You grab her wrist, pulling her back to your side. “I'm just—” you flounder for a moment, “I'm just— I'm worried that you're gonna get tired of this eventually. You get bored of things way too easily—”

Jinx sighs and her face falls, and she looks more exhausted than anything. “And… you think I'm gonna get bored of you somehow?” The last part is spoken with a note of disbelief, then she shakes her head, as if she's trying to brush off some thoughts. “Damn it, dude— you're a complete idiot, you know that? I like you. Like…” she makes a vague, helpless gesture “I actually like your stupid ass and I don't know how to convince you of that.”

Something clenches in your chest, and you're not sure if it's your heart or your stomach, or maybe both, when you look at her. You've spent so long believing that this whole thing is temporary, only something casual, that the thought that you could be more to her never even crossed your mind.

“You—” You swallow, throat suddenly dry. “You like me as a friend... or...?”

She snorts, rolling her eyes again, and it helps the sudden rise of hope in your chest because it's a familiar gesture that you've always known. “Or?” Jinx deadpans. “How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time? Do I have to spell it out for you? Do I really have to say I like you, you thick-head, I'm not just messing around with you to pass the time—”

“No, I get it—” 

Jinx grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look into her eyes. “I like you, dickhead. I want to be with you. Got it? Do I need to get that through that thick skull of yours? That is not that big of a concept to comprehend, is it? I care. About. You. I don't care if it's casual or official or whatever, I just want you, dumbass.”

You blink and then blink again because holyshitholyshitHOLYSHIT. It's just so insane how quickly everything you thought you'd figured out gets turned on its head, and all you're left with is trying to figure out how you were so dumb, so blind, so stupid-

Jinx is looking at you like that, all fierce and determined and beautiful, and that's when you remember that you should probably say something.

You're not the best with words, but you're so desperate to get everything straight to not lose her, so you grab her hips and pull her into your lap, wrapping your arms around her bare waist, and press your face into the crook of her shoulder.

Jinx huffs out a soft laugh, then wraps her legs around your waist, arms around your neck. “I like you, idiot. Not just as a friend. And if you ever say 'casual' and 'no strings attached' to me again, I'm strangling you with my bare hands—” she pauses when she feels something underneath “—why'd you get a boner all of a sudden, you dipshit?”

“That, uh—” You're a smart person, smart enough to know that your body's basic biological needs have… a very short and simple function, but it's still kind of embarrassing to have your body out of you like this. “Sorry, I couldn't help it, so just ignore it, please—”

“Are you serious? we're having a heartfelt conversation here and you get a boner like a fucking teenager? Like I said, idiot.” her fingers run over your collarbone, nails dragging lightly over bare skin. “And you're telling me to ignore it, as if it's not poking at me right now.”

“I can't help it if my dick has the shittiest timing, alright? It's not like I can just shut it down like a switch— mhmm fuck—” 

Jinx grinds her hips down in your lap. The wetness between her legs rubs against your length.

You swear to whatever god there may be, there is, because it takes everything you have not to make some kind of pathetic whimpering sound at the friction against your still-hard cock.

“Jinx, baby, you have to stop. I-I can't focus if you do that. I can't think straight if you're—”

“So don't think then, idiot. You're just thinking too much with that brain of yours again.” Jinx wraps her hand around your cock, then you almost choke when she moves, shifting until it's pressed firmly against her slit. “Just shut up for once, and just think with your dick.”

“You're— you're not even tired?”

“Not yet.” Jinx grins and gives your cock a little squeeze. “I can be good for more than one round, thought you already knew that.”

Holy shit…how long was she expecting you to last if you already know she's planning to wring you out like a goddamn towel? One of these days, your dick's going to have an actual heart attack from all the abuse it's been getting from her over the years, and you're never going to get it back up again.

You swallow at the thought, and she laughs under her breath at whatever face you must be making. “I did know that, but you were complaining about your legs feeling like jelly, so I just assumed you'd—”

“Shut up, I can do this,” Jinx says, and suddenly lifts herself up on her knees, using your shoulders for balance. “Shut up, okay? I need to make my point, get it through to you, that I like you. How I want to be with you. Not just a casual thing—”

“Wait, let me get the—”

“No. Let's just do it.”

…

“…without it?”

“Without it… if that's okay."

You don't think you've ever nodded that fast in your life. All you want is to prove to her over and over that you like her back, no strings attached or not.

“Good.” Jinx presses a kiss right on your cheek. “Now that we know that you're not just a dumbfuck with a pretty face,” she purrs, “how about you live up to the hype and pound me into the mattress until I can't walk, hmm?”

Her words go straight to your aching, throbbing cock, and that's when you realize that she is going to drive you to an early grave. “I think— I think I can manage that. But… um—” You lick your lips, eyes darting down to stare at her chest. “Turn around, please.”

Jinx smiles and pecks your lips in a quick kiss, then spins around, facing away from you. So fucking hot. She knows it too, throwing you a smug smile over her shoulder. Hands resting on your legs to support herself. 

Jinx raises herself up, takes your cock in her hand again, and runs the head of it through her slick folds before she lowers herself, sinking all the way down until you fill her up.

You throw your back against the headboard, head resting against the hard wood with a thunk. “Oh, fuck, Jinx—”

The condom's been a barrier for so long, you can't believe you're getting to feel her like this. Your bare cock buried deep inside her pussy is the best thing you've ever felt. Now it makes sense why she wanted to do it this way.

“Thought you said you wanted to make me live up to that dick, and now you're trying to make me lose it immediately?”

She has the audacity to giggle, followed by a soft sigh of pleasure, as she begins rocking her hips back and forth, squeezing tight around your cock. Your hands move up to grip the sharp edge of her hip bones while your eyes roam over her body. She keeps taking your length, adjusting to your size until she finally gets the hang of her rhythm. 

Jinx leans forward, back bent, ass pushed out, like she's making sure you can get a damn good view of how well she's taking you, your dick stretching her pussy out, all red and swollen, wet and shiny with her juice.

She looks back at you, eyes heavy-lidded, lips pressed to a wicked smile. “So... is this a good argument so far?”

You can only let out a groan. You have to admit, she's got a really, really strong argument, and you're going to let her rub it in.

“I'm taking that as a 'yes.'” Jinx chuckles, breathless from the cock spearing her open. “You seem to understand things better when you have concrete evidence right in front of you, hm? Maybe if I do it every day, things will finally stick in that thick skull of yours.”

You nod dumbly, too focused on the way her ass jiggles whenever it hits your pelvis. “Uh-huh. Y-you make a really good point. I need a lot of, uh, visual aids to get it into my thick skull. And practice. Lots of, um, practice. Maybe, uh, once a day or twice or— or god, maybe even three times if we really tried.”

The laugh you get out of her is worth your shitty attempt at dirty talk, and her mouth spreads into a cocky grin. “Maybe? 'Maybe'? Baby, I think we could do three times a day minimum and that's not even factoring all the other fun things I can do.”

You shiver at the images her words put in your head. “Y-yeah. We're... really gonna need to work on my stamina, too. And, like... my willpower. And... patience, yeah. God, your pussy is really gonna test all of those, isn't it—”

Jinx laughs again, which turns into a sharp gasp. She likes that. You get the impression that maybe you're learning how to say the right things. 

She starts to move faster, thighs burning as she keeps grinding and bouncing on your cock, riding you for all she's worth, nails sinking into your legs.

You bring both of your hands down to her ass, giving it a pat, which turns into a squeeze, then you pull her cheeks apart, spreading her wide. The pad of your thumb circles around her rim, watching how it twitch.

“You like that?” and when you press your thumb closer to her rim, like you're thinking of trying to push into that tight little hole, Jinx clenches, clamping down so hard, you can't help but groan.

“Like it? I'd be offended if you haven't noticed that I love it by now.” She clenches again to make her point. “Are you— are going to play with me like that all night, or are you going to do something more with that— ah!” She gasps when your hand spanks down on her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint across her pale skin. 

“Sorry— does it h—”

“Harder,” Jinx demands, arching her back, and you're not even really surprised when she says, “Spank me, you coward,” over her shoulder. 

Not missing a beat, you bring your hand down and smack her ass again and again and again, leaving an even redder mark. With each smack, her walls constrict, inner muscles clenching around your dick. The sound of your hand against her ass is the only thing you can hear, bouncing off the walls. 

Jinx's arms falter, dropping to her forearms as she fucks herself on your cock, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, bouncing faster and faster that you can hardly follow, as if she's going to crush you against the mattress underneath her. Your eyes dart down, seeing the other hand between her legs, and she rubs at her clit furiously, chasing that high.

“Ah, fuck— I think I'm gonna—” then, suddenly, she goes tense, her breathing hitches, and for a horrifying second you think you're in trouble, but then—Jinx cries out, and you realize she's coming, body shuddering and legs shaking. 

Grabbing both of her hips, you lift her up and meet her with the snap of your own, fucking the orgasm out of her. After her high, you pull out, and Jinx is left overstimulated and trembling.

You sit up, then wrap an arm around her middle, pulling her flushed back against your chest, hands caressing over her ribcage. 

Jinx huffs but goes still, and you kiss the side of her neck, lips traveling up to her jaw, finally landing on her ear. 

“Are you okay?”

She nods vaguely, catching her breath, then, a breathy laugh escapes her. “You didn't finish.”

“Yeah, can you help me?” you ask. “Please?”

“Mmmm.” Jinx's response sounds more like a purr, and she leans back in your grip, head tilting to the side, exposing more of her throat to your mouth, which presses more kisses to her skin. At your words, she says, “So polite,” the words are half-teasing and half-grateful. 

Her hand drifts down between her legs, grabbing the base of your shaft, her palm already a bit slick. “How—” she pauses to rub over your sensitive head with her fingers, sliding up and down the length, smearing the mess of her juices on your skin. “How do you want it, baby?”

You bite her earlobe at the pet name, fingers drifting from her hip, tracing over her skin, all the way down to her inner thigh. “...I wanna see you. Want to look at you.”

Jinx smiles before pressing one final kiss on your cheek. “Okay” She wriggles out of your grip, then rolls to the side, flopping onto the bed, bracing one hand on the headboard, the other on the mattress. She spreads her legs, giving you a view of her glistening slit, beckoning you to crawl over her.

You settle yourself between her legs, taking one of the pillows and shoving it under her ass. One of your hands grabs the back of her knee, pushing them forward until it's up, while the other strokes your cock, running the tip through her folds to gather some of her juices. 

Jinx bites down on her own lip as she shifts her hips, trying to get you to finally push into her. “Would you stop playing with yourself and put it in already? I'm literally right here. I have a perfectly good pussy that's wasted.”

Her words are as filthy as your thoughts, which, if possible, gets you even harder. Leaning forward, you take your hand off your dick and rest it on the pillow next to her head, using it as leverage while slowly pushing your hips forward, sinking back into her pussy. Her velvety walls clench around your girth as you drive deep into her from tip to hilt.

“You all right? Does this— Is it good?” you ask when you're all the way in.

“I think— I think you know the answer by now, baby.” Jinx lifts her hands to grab at your shoulders and locks her ankles behind your back, trying to pull you down. You let her, settling onto your elbows before you press a kiss on her shoulder.

Every sound that escapes her mouth—the ragged breathing, the gasps and sighs, the way Jinx moans your name—makes you go faster, deeper, and with every hard thrust, her breath turns hotter, heavier. You lean back just to watch the rhythmic bouncing of Jinx's breasts as you repeatedly drill yourself deeper inside her.

Goosebumps erupt on her skin as Jinx adjusts to your pace. A slender hand slides from your shoulders to your waist; she grips the edge of your shirt and drags it up to your mouth, keeping it out of the way. 

Your eyes meet hers, then bite the fabric, holding it with your teeth. The muscles in her stomach jump and move with each snap of your hips as you keep hammering into her relentlessly. 

Jinx presses her hand against your stomach, your abdomen tightens at the touch. “Fuck, you look so—” she breathes, tongue licking her lips. “You're so hot—” Her gaze moves, drifting away from your face to watch herself take you in, cock disappearing inside of her again and again. “You're— hah— too damn big. I can't— aah— I could see you under my stomach when you're this deep. You fill me up so well.”

Your teeth let go of the shirt, letting it fall onto her breasts. Her comment makes you shiver, the praise of her words causing you to bury your face into her neck. 

With her legs still wrapped around you, you thrust forward, knees and elbows digging into the mattress to spread her thighs wide open while you fuck her deeper, making sure Jinx takes your entire length, your balls slapping against her skin.

You pound into her with such force that the bed begins to rock, banging against the wall. The sound of the headboard scraping into the wall should probably make you worry, but the way she clenches around you is worth whatever you'll have to pay in repair costs.

The hand on your stomach slides lower, then a finger dips into her slick. Jinx rubs her own swollen clit, and you hear her wince. Too sensitive. You push your body back up, bracing on one elbow, then swat her hand, replacing it with your own, circling her clit with your fingers.

A long whine escapes her, and she tosses her head to the side when you apply more pressure to her sensitive, needy little bud. “Mmphh— baby, j-just like that!” Jinx gasps out back arching, pushing her chest up to meet yours.

You clench your jaw, cock twitching and pulsing inside her as you feel the heat pooling deep and spreading from your groin, through your stomach, up to your chest, and to the tips of your ears. “Jinx, I don't think I can last much longer—”

Jinx pulls your head down by the back of your neck and bites the crook of your shoulder. “Inside me— I want it, want it all, want to feel you— come on, fill me up. Make me yours.”

Hearing how she needs you, how much she wants you in her, is like a snap. The fingers around her swollen clit start to move faster, circling, rubbing, trying to match the pace of your thrusts.

Jinx comes in a matter of seconds, body shaking and legs trembling, hissing from the overstimulation. You follow soon after, gripping the sheets as you come inside her, yet you keep going, shoving back every drop of your cum that tries to spill out of her.

It's not until Jinx lightly pushes you off your shoulder that you finally stop. You slump forward, face first into the pillow next to her, breathing heavily.

Jinx shifts under you, laughing softly, then presses a kiss against your temple and says, “…Did I make my point clear, dumbass?” The only response you can give is a tired grunt, which makes her laugh again.

After gathering enough energy to lift your body from hers, you slide your cock out, then look down at the cum dripping from her and down the sheets.

Jinx looks at you and waggles her eyebrows like it's a game. She then reaches down to scoop the cum that's leaking from her, bringing those same fingers up to her lips. She sticks her fingers into her mouth and sucks them clean, moaning around them while keeping eye contact with you, as if the taste of your cum mixed with hers is her new favorite thing.

“Gross,” you manage to say, but it's more reflex than anything. There's no disgust, because the sight of her enjoying the way you taste on her tongue does something to you, which is how Jinx ends up laughing again and pinching your cheek. You huff and collapse onto the space next to her.

Jinx gets up and crawls over you, straddling your hips. You let out a sigh at her weight. “Come on...” she coos. “I still have a lot more visual aids to show you.” She leans back, hands bracing on your thighs, and the smile on her face makes you roll your eyes to the heavens.

“You're—” You swallow, blinking a few times. “You're... a really, really persuasive person. I don't think I have any more cum left in me...”

“Mmm, really now?” Jinx asks, and the sly glance she gives your dick tells you it wasn't a genuine question more than a challenge. “I think you've got plenty for me to play with.”

“Uh...” You glance down at your cock, eyes widening to see that it's hardening again despite just having come. “You're a bad influence on this body part, did you know that?”

“No, I didn't,” she drawls, eyes darkening as she watches your shaft harden in front of her. “But I'm definitely going to make a note of that.” The tip of her finger brushes up the length of your growing cock. “Looks like I'm doing a good job convincing that last bit of your brain that it can't live without me. I should work harder on the rest.”

“You're just— God. If I die from exhaustion tomorrow, you're paying for my burial.”

jinx:

[pooksgetspooked]

Thesis such a chore that it reignited my passion for writing fanfic. Procrastinating writing to focus on writing 💔

Anyways! Thinking about:

Deaf!Doctor getting involved with Huntrix and Saja Boys

Note: part 1 because I got lazy! I have lots of ideas roughly fleshed out with 2 chapters done, but we’ll see <3

Deaf!Doctor who’s actually too soft, but has walls tougher than the Trojans. She’s about as pleasant as an aggressive cat with only the dying wish of vengeance and spreading hate.

Her anger management is channeled into slaughtering demons, armed with a bow and arrows so she can play sniper from vintage points. It’s not as effective as therapy, but it certainly makes her feel just a little better, even if temporary.

Speaking of anger management, she hate hate hates Huntrix due to undisclosed reasons pertaining to the construction of her impenetrable barb-wired walls. Absolutely despises them, almost as much as she despises demons. But she knows the necessity of them. Knows of their double life as demon hunters, and despite scowling anytime she so much as hears their name, she still keeps them alive and breathing because 3 hunters and an honorary support keeping the population afloat beats one.

First came under the radar of both entertainment groups after saving Zoey and Mira’s necks via arrow delivery to the heads of the demons who had them cornered. Both groups kept the doctor at the back of their minds, but nothing grand enough to go out of their way to act yet.

It was only when she proved to be a hindrance to the collection of souls, doing a little too much against the demon forces and their soul KPIs did the Saja boys decide to deal with her personally. One sad disguised grandma demon and a couple Saja boys in the shadows was all it took to take her down.

In a last minute impulsive decision, they decided against snatching her soul in favour of prying information out regarding Huntrix, keeping her in their overworld hideout that they insisted on having for ‘a place to practice and strategise,’ when really they just think the underworld is too hot and kind of drab at the best of times.

They initially tried to intimidate Deaf!Doctor to no avail. They tried threats, small injuries, even tried to mind control her with their unreleased song ‘Your Idol’. It didn’t work, oddly enough. It made Jinu just a little insecure that his singing wasn’t as great as he thought for awhile. But they got feedback that it was upsettingly catchy when they caught her humming the song to herself. During one sizing up session, the group learns of her hearing defect, and Abby breaks her hearing aids and that was that. She called them stupid, before settling for silence because they don’t get the pleasure of easy communication if she has to lip read all the time.

Soon after, she’s kept around for a little too long to justify as anything other than personal, and after one incident where they all discovered she could temporarily mute Gwi-Ma’s lull of whispers (purely accidental, she was actually testing out a theory and trying to poison them), they begin to see her in a different light.

Jinu calls her sweetheart. He finds her cute and silly in a trying and failing to be nonchalant sort of way. He believes she’s trying too hard to be something she’s not, and in a way, she reminds him of tiger. Way scarier from a distance and mostly all growls, but charmingly silly (opinion exclusive to him) when up close and too personal. It’s a little hard to take her seriously too when she couldn’t hear him enter the room, and he finds her napping with Tiger.

Abby whistles for his kitty. He finds it amusing when she’s feisty and agitated, especially when he talks down at her as though she didn’t know any better, lips deliberately slow so she could see what he was saying. In his eyes, he could see a pair of cat ears always tucked back like airplanes with a flicking tail to match. It doesn’t help that stature-wise, he’s the biggest, making it easy for him to loom over the doctor and size her up for the fun of it.

She avoids him like the plague and makes blatant attempts to make his life as inconvenient as hers. He likes to scare her at least twice a day minimum.

Romance purrs doll. He finds her cute like one. Fragile like a one too. He tries to disarm her with flirty winks and romantic gestures, but she always turns them down with a snarl, later worn down to a haughty huff. That’s fine though, he knows his way around people. All he needs is time, and time he has.

Mystery doesn’t fucking talk. He just trails after her like a shitty rendition of a shadow. Ever silent, somewhat forgettable until she turns around and slams into him, but otherwise tolerable. He taps her on the head to get her attention though. Sometimes, she can’t differentiate when he’s the one tapping, or if the bird was the one pecking. To reciprocate, she occasionally yanks his sleeve to get his attention before acting out what she wants him to fetch for her. She takes advantage of him the most.

Despite that, Mystery enjoys her company, and with time whittling her down, they actually end up sharing time together by reading occasionally.

Baby rotates between baby or sweets, depending on the time, place, and his mood. They actually kind of get along because Baby doesn’t talk too much. Just a comfortably small amount, which gradually grew after they both noticed their shared sweet tooth. It helps that Baby likes the sour sweets that the doctor doesn’t and vice versa, meaning they’re frequently exchanging candy.

Out of the five, she secretly goes to Baby for comfort in the dead of the night when the rest are out and about. Baby gets the highest of highs from it and has to actively resist being smug shit. The rest almost beat him up once in an attempt to get him to spill.

Out of everyone, she gets along with Tiger the best, though Crow and Mystery are the one that sticks with her the closest. The guys speculated her and Tiger has some way of communicating through unblinking, prolonged eye contact, but they could never decipher anything. Jinu tried talking to Tiger about it at one point, asking him what they usually discussed, but his furry companion simply blinked at him and sank into the floor.

[imtaashu]

2am YouTube Video.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You wake up to the sound of Bucky whispering under the covers—watching YouTube tutorials on how to make you smile. You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or never let go of him again.

Genre: clingy soft Bucky, emotional support fluff, comfort after sadness, secret boyfriend tenderness, crying but in a good way, love you can feel in your ribs

Word Count: ~1.2k

Author Notes✍️ : He’s not just watching cat videos. He’s learning how to love you right. At 2am. In a whisper. With a furrowed brow and his whole entire heart 🥺💻

It’s 2:17 a.m. when you wake up. The bed dips beside you.

Blankets are rustling, but softly—like someone’s trying really, really hard not to wake you.

You blink blearily into the dark. Bucky’s sitting up, hunched forward under the covers with a faint blue glow lighting his face.

You squint.

…Is that your laptop?

“Bucky?”

He jumps. Literally flinches like he’s been caught committing a federal crime.

“Hey,” he whispers, slamming the laptop shut like it might self-destruct. “You weren’t supposed to wake up—go back to sleep, I was just—”

“…Were you watching YouTube?”

He’s blushing. You can hear it in the dark.

“…Maybe.”

You sit up, reaching for the laptop. “What were you—”

“No, wait—!”

Too late. The screen lights up again, still halfway loaded on the video he paused mid-whisper.

“HOW TO MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND SMILE WHEN SHE’S SAD 🥺❤️ (10 Tips That ACTUALLY WORK)”

You freeze.

He groans and buries his face in his hands.

“I knew the thumbnail was too much,” he mumbles.

You just stare “…Were you really watching that?”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look at you “I just—” His voice is rough, wrecked. “You’ve been quiet lately. And I thought—maybe if you were ever sad and didn’t say anything, I could still know how to fix it. I just wanted to be better at… that. For you.”

Your chest cracks open. Like an eggshell. Like a sunbeam. Like something tender.

You blink fast “James.”

He still won’t look at you.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching for him “Baby. Look at me.”

He finally does. His eyes are glassy. Wide. Embarrassed.

And you don’t say anything else.

You just kiss him. Soft. Deep. Heart first.

He melts. Right there, under the covers at 2:20 a.m., laptop still between you, guilty search history exposed to the world—he melts in your arms like your lips are the only thing tethering him to solid ground.

When you finally pull back, your eyes are wet.

“Y-You’re crying,” he whispers, stunned. “Oh no—I messed it up—”

“No,” you breathe, shaking your head. “You didn’t. I’m crying because I didn’t think I could love you more. And then you go and do this.”

He sniffles.

“You already make me smile when I’m sad,” you say. “Every time you bring me tea. Or hold my hand. Or look at me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

“You are the only thing that matters,” he murmurs.

Your face crumples again. “God, stop being perfect.”

“I literally typed ‘how to be a good boyfriend’ into YouTube twelve minutes ago.”

“Exactly. Perfect.”

⸻

Later, you fall asleep curled up against him, laptop still open beside you.

He watches you. Then whispers softly into the mic:

“Hey YouTube. Mission accomplished.”

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 💌

@nerdreader @starstruckfirecat @baguwagu @sunday-bug @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @okaytrashpanda @aceofheartsssss @the-real-kellymonster🎀🩷

wanna be tagged in all upcoming theories + emotional damage + forehead kisses? ➝ reply or send me an ask and i’ll add you ♡

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ something something...

“damn, your past lovers were a greedy men, aye!” johnny’s voice echoes through your flat.

he’s sitting at his desk in front of the fan, wearing nothing but his boxers. you’re sprawled out on the bed, lying on your stomach, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. just your panties and one of johnny’s old oversized military shirts hang off you. for the past few minutes, you’ve felt his eyes glued to your arse. it’s practically right in his line of sight, so you can’t exactly blame him.

you glance up at him, confused and already fed up with his nonsense. you’re used to his random comments, he says whatever pops into his head, no filter. and he knows you won’t really judge him for it, so he lets his thoughts run wild.

“what the fuck does that even mean?” you ask with a sigh, shaking your head.

you had been right, his eyes were locked on your arse, not even pretending to look away.

“well, you see, when i was waiting in line for coffee yesterday, there were these two women in front of me. really, i say women, but they were barely fourteen. i should’ve said girls,” he starts, already drifting from the main point. “so, these two girls, they were talking, right? waiting in line, of course they were talking. and i know you always tell me not to listen to other people’s conversations, but i couldn’t—”

most of the time, when his mind wandered like that, you just let him play in the background, white noise, until you heard a few keywords that meant he’d finally circled back to the point.

but right now, you’re stuck on what he said before. you’re confused, maybe a little humiliated. he hadn’t said it like an insult, it sounded casual, but still, why the hell was he talking about your past lovers?

“johnny,” you cut him off. “back to the main point. what was that about my past lover?” you snap, sharper than intended.

“yeah, sorry,” he says quickly, catching the edge in your voice. “they were talking about this theory, about beauty spots. how they’re the favorite places for your past lover to kiss you… you know, in another life and stuff? and well...”

his eyes drop again, landing on your arse, where six small, dark beauty marks scatter across the skin.

“oh,” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise to your face.

the shame bubbles up, not because you were wrong to feel thrown off, but because he hadn’t meant “past lover” in the way you thought. he wasn’t talking about before him, he meant before this life.

getting up from his chair, he kneels beside you on the bed, his eyes never leaving your arse. he doesn’t say anything, just starts grabbing at you like a kitten making bread. he kneads the skin so good, you let out a small, involuntary whine.

the way he looks at your body always amazes you. like he’s discovering it for the first time, every single time. you know johnny's a generous lover, always giving, rarely taking, and his filthy mouth never shuts up about how much he adores every inch of you.

“and you know, i was thinking…” he murmurs, slowly bending down to nip at the soft curve of your cheek. “with the way i leave teeth marks and hickeys on this pretty arse, maybe we were lovers in a past life.”

before you can respond, his mouth is back on your skin, his teeth nipping, his tongue soothing the sting. your phone slips from your hand, landing with a soft thud on the mattress as a moan escapes you.

it isn't even truly sexual, not yet. johnny just loves to worship you. he doesn’t need anything in return. he loves to kiss you, taste you, study your skin like it holds every answer he's ever wanted.

his mouth leaves your arse and begins its slow journey upward. his hands slide your shirt higher as his lips follow, until he reaches your neck. he pushes the shirt away from your shoulder and reconnects his lips with your skin a second later.

“isn’t it fucking romantic, bonnie?” he murmurs into your ear, already knowing you’re drifting into that soft, horny daze he loves. “you and me, we were always meant to be.”

he kisses a beauty spot on your neck. the one he always returns to. the one so often hidden beneath his teeth marks and hickeys, it barely has time to fade.

“you see, i fucking love this theory, baby,” he coos against your skin, laying his body over yours, grinding his now-hard cock against your arse.

“i was your lover in every fucking life you’ve ever lived. you’ve been mine since the dawn of time. always.”

fun fact : i might have six beauty spots on my arse... i know no shame

[veil-of-exordia]

@wellington-yueh

Sternberg for Aros

So there’s this social psych theory by Robert Sternberg about how love works. I’m lazy so I’m not really gonna describe the whole thing, but there’s a handy triangle that pretty much gets you the gist of it:

If you want to know more about it slash don’t understand the terms (because I didn’t explain them), check out the wiki page or this nice lil summary or google it.

This lil triangle here has given me quite the tool to explain my aromanticism and what I want in relationships. Based on this theory of love, I would say that I lack the capacity to experience Passion. I do have the capacity for Intimacy and Commitment, but not experiencing Passion means I never experience Infatuation, Fatuous Love, or Romantic Love. What I can experience is Liking, Empty Love, and Companionate Love.

99.99% of my relationships are Liking. I experience Intimacy with people, want to know them and care about them and love them in a platonic way. However, I do have the capacity for Commitment. I have been in a relationship before where it was almost entirely Empty Love from my end (it was unhealthy for a host of reasons, but in any case it’s reassurance I’m capable of commitment- it lasted 3.5 years). Before I learned about the term “aromantic” I used to picture my ideal romance/partner/primary relationship as an arranged marriage or a “passionless” marriage- you know, that old married couple where they’re best friends who barely tolerate each other and just basically take each others’ presence for granted.

This is still my ideal partnership, but now I have more words to describe it. As an aromantic person with a deep capacity for Intimacy and Commitment, I want a life partner with whom I can share both of those things (and nothing else is expected). I know that a word for this kind of exists in the aro community already: queerplatonic partner. I have my issues with the word and its concept in the community, which I think I addressed in another post (I might link it if anyone cares particularly), and so I have been reluctant to use it to describe what I want. Now, however, I can definitely say that what I want is a companion. That’s the title I’m comfortable with.

Side note: I also really like that this triangle is not about physicality/sexuality at all- it’s purely about the emotional experience of love- but it could definitely be applied to physical intimacy/passion/commitment… as an allosexual, that also has bearing on what kind of partnership I have, but that’s for another post.

[toxooz]

The thing I love most about ollie transformation over the years is how it looks less like a redesign, and more him just going through puberty and hitting a HUGE growth spurt.

Orc Puberty™ with Ollie when he reached the ripe old age of -checks notes- 13

[faramirsonofgondor]

Dick should be incredibly good at fighting under the influence of fear toxin. Like, so good that he’s the guy that’s always sent out after scarecrow because he’s pretty much the only one who can consistently battle its effects. He still quips and does performative little stunts, barely bats an eye.

No one knows why. For a while, the running theory is that he was simply exposed to much more fear toxin as a kid, so he built an immunity. He’s the only one who has been a vigilante nearly as long as Bruce, and was always the distraction, so he was almost exclusively the one hit in the face with toxin during his Robin era. However, this theory is slowly debunked as the rest of the family gets their fair share of exposure too and it doesn’t get any better.

Then they think it’s genetic or something. This is disproven too, though, after loads of experiments to see if a similar effect could be reproduced on the others.

Strength of will is tossed around as a theory, and it seems plausible, but if that were true then Bruce should also be near-immune. He’s actually one of the worst-affected.

Whenever anyone tries to ask, Dick deflects with a ridiculous answer. But in truth, he knows exactly why he handles it so well: It’s because he’s almost always experiencing life in a way that isn’t quite reality. He always has the phantom of dried blood under his fingernails, the ghost of his dead brother still shows up to his nightly patrols, and every time his feet leave the floor he’s struck wi the sensation of falling falling falling.

He’s not immune to fear toxin by any means. His visions are rather severe. But whereas the state of fear toxin is a drug-induced living nightmare for others, it’s just a particularly bad Tuesday for him. And he’s had a lot of those.

THIS THIS THIS OMG YES.

I honestly kind of head canon Dick as having schizo-affective disorder. He has hallucinations, delusions, depressive episodes, anxiety, impulsivity, self-esteem issues, mood swings, and the whole shebang. Dick is genuinely confused when people talk about him as the lights of their lives, as the golden boy, etc. because his reality is so fucked up. He has so much trauma that he doesn’t deal that hallucinations aren’t even a big deal to him. I also do think that being exposed to fear-toxin as young and as often as he was did have some sort of effect on his brain chemistry, especially since he became Robin so soon after his parents death. Like I feel like maybe he was already having grief-induced hallucinations and nightmares for a while, and then Scarecrow shows up and he’s having more frequent hallucinations. Essentially, I think Scarecrow gave Dick’s brain an extra push into hallucinating regularly.

I believe that Tim and Jason became Robin at around 12-13, and though they might’ve encountered fear toxin at one point before then, they wouldn’t been regularly encountering at 8 years old the way Dick did. Like I definitely feel like Dick was the youngest to start being Robin, and this definitely had influence on his body, brain chemistry, and mental health (not just related to Scarecrow and fear toxin, but in general as a crime-fighting 8 year old).

Anyways, Dick has been through a lot of shit, and hallucinates regularly, so I doubt he’d bat at an eye at anything Scarecrow throws at him. From everyone else’s POV, they just think that Scarecrow’s shit doesn’t work on Dick for some reason, despite all the testing they’ve done that shows that it shouldn’t be that way. I feel like this would either freak the fuck out of Scarecrow, or it would make him want to fixate on creating something that works on Dick. Maybe he teams up with some other villains to try and study Dick’s brain.

OOOOH Maybe he teams up with a sorcerer to find out what life looks like from Dick’s POV before and after being injected with fear toxin, only to find that there’s barely any change and he’s just like “damn dude that actually kinda sucks lol loser”. Maybe the sorcerer decides to fuck with the Batfam or the Titans by forcing them into Dick’s mind and making them see Dick’s reality. They’re all scared shitless because everyone feels so wrong. They feel phantom hands and sensations ghosting over them all the time. They feel the hot splash of blood on their face, but then there’s nothing there. They see and hear the voice of a younger Jason, a sometimes crueler Jason, despite the fact that the real Jason is right next to them. They see mutilated bodies and spectres all around them, reaching for them, staring at them, haunting them everywhere they go. They feel off-balance and nauseous all the time, and they don’t understand how Dick has the ability to do acrobatics when the world is constantly tilting.

And then, sometimes, when Dick is being harassed or threatened, they hear their own voices, or voices that are familiar to them. They hear Bruce shouting at Dick how it’s his fault Jason died. They hear their own teammates and friends jeer at Dick and call him a slut. They hear thousands of voices calling Dick a failure, a murderer, a freak. They hear the voice of a woman softly croak that she’s disappointed and disgusted with him, that she never wanted this life for her little Robin.

There’s soooo much about this hc that I want to explore, I might add onto this later.

[ackermanrage]

i would LOVE to request a levi x fem reader where zeke miserably fails at trying to flirt with reader in front of levi and reader just gives him the levi treatment aka kicking the shit out of him lmao. zeke’s just like nvm u guys are perfect for each other

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ʙᴇᴀᴛ

levi ackerman x fem!reader warnings: none :) an: hehe i feel like this is perfect, something levi would TOTALLY do. I tried fitting my ideas into a short drabble! Alsooo, I think i forgot to mention this in my intro, but i'll add it. Im not a huge fan of age gaps so if im writing about a older character, you can expect yourself to aged up. And if im writing about a younger character, for example: eren, then you can expect to aged down, to around 16-19.

The courtyard was quiet. The sun hovered overhead, warm and lazy. You leaned back on the bench, one leg crossed over the other, half-listening to Hange ramble about some titan muscle theory.

And then he showed up.

Zeke Jaeger.

All smug grin and soft-rolled sleeves, like he thought he was walking into a wine tasting instead of a military base.

“Captain,” he greeted smoothly, hands in his pockets as he stopped in front of you. “You know, I’ve been thinking. With all the tension around here, maybe we could do something… fun. Together. You and me.”

You blinked at him. Deadpan.

“I’m busy.”

“You weren’t busy five seconds ago,” he smiled.

“I was. Mentally.”

Levi, nearby, didn’t say a word. But his jaw twitched. And his eyes locked on Zeke with a stare sharp enough to flay flesh from bone.

Zeke, oblivious or just stupid, leaned in a bit. “C’mon. Even you can’t resist a man with brains and biceps.”

You gave him a look. Calm. Unbothered.

“You sure you’ve got either?”

Hange cackled behind you. Zeke’s grin faltered, but he shrugged and backed off.

Levi didn’t say a word the rest of the day. Didn’t comment. Didn’t snarl.

That was what made it worse.

---

Later that night, Zeke was walking down the dim corridor near the supply hall, whistling some off-key tune—still full of himself, still acting like he hadn’t nearly embarrassed himself in broad daylight.

He turned the corner—and slammed into something solid.

Someone.

Levi.

Hands in his pockets. Head tilted just enough to cast a shadow over his eyes.

Zeke’s smile faded.

“...Oh. Hey.”

Levi didn’t respond.

Just stared.

Zeke shifted awkwardly. “Listen, if this is about earlier—”

Levi moved. Fast. Silent.

A sharp punch to the gut drove the air from Zeke’s lungs. A second blow landed just beneath his ribs—surgical, precise, not enough to break bone, but enough to hurt.

Zeke staggered back against the wall, coughing.

“What the hell, Levi?!”

Levi stepped forward, eyes calm. Voice flat. Deadly.

“Don’t look at her like that again.”

“I was joking—”

“I wasn’t.”

Another hit—this time, a knee to the thigh that made Zeke drop like a sack of grain.

He didn’t even try to fight back. There was no room to.

Levi crouched in front of him, voice low.

“She didn’t need to handle you. Because I will.”

Zeke wheezed, hand on his ribs. “You’re insane.”

Levi stood. “No. I’m territorial.”

And with that, he turned and walked off—completely silent, as if he hadn’t just issued a one-man beatdown in the dark.

Zeke lay on the floor, groaning.

“...God, she would date him.”

©ackermanrage - please do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work!

[poorwhayfairingstranger]

This reminds me of that time. I try to write space where Wolf p*** but ended up with 5 pages of my notebook covered front to back with political Theory for interspecies empires and the hierarchy of sentience. The space nurse and her security guard Werewolf boyfriend didn't even kiss.

heyy can we do a sexy roleplay where im a prince from a fallen kingdom and youre the powerful warrior who has taken me for their own pleasure. yes? yipeeee ok so before we start first here's a google doc with the whole history of the fictional land we're both from and the intricate geopolitical workings of the- oh yeah and here's a supplementary doc on the agriculture and trade routes of said fictional land and stuff and yes this is important. the dirty talk has to be lore accurate

[thatonegrimm]

Can I request a drabble for Saja Boys reacting to gn crush falling asleep on his shoulder please?

Yep, here you go! 💫

🌙 Saja Boys – Falling asleep on them

--------------------------

🧿 Jinu

He’s talking. Not about anything important—some theory, some detail, something he thought you might like to hear.

Then your head dips. Soft. Unhurried. And lands gently on his shoulder.

Jinu stops mid-sentence.

His breath catches halfway up his throat. His pulse stumbles. He looks down just enough to see your face: peaceful, lips parted slightly, eyes shut like sleep had caught you by surprise.

He’s terrified of moving.

Like if he even shifts a fraction of an inch, you’ll pull away—and the moment will vanish like a spell broken too soon.

So he stays there.

Perfectly still. Perfectly silent.

His heartbeat rattles against his ribs like it's trying to be brave. He swallows once. Then again.

And when he finally exhales, it’s slow. Measured. Like he’s memorizing the weight of you on his shoulder.

Like he wants to be steady enough for you to lean on again.

------------------------------

💪 Abby

He sees it coming before it happens.

The way your eyelids start to flutter slower. The way you blink, yawn once, then try to play it off like you’re still listening.

You lean in just a little, head tilting—and he shifts instinctively, shoulder bracing, posture relaxed.

So when you finally drift off and your head lands against him, it doesn’t surprise him.

But it still makes his chest feel… full.

He glances down at you, curled softly beside him in your oversized hoodie, lips parted, your breathing already steady.

Gently, like he’s done it a thousand times before, Abby tugs his hoodie halfway off and drapes it around your shoulders too—like shielding you could keep you asleep longer.

He doesn't move. Doesn't even blink too fast. Just watches you breathe for a while, quiet and steady.

“You can lean on me anytime,” he murmurs, voice almost lost in the silence. “I’ll always hold you up.”

--------------------------------------

📚 Mystery

You fall asleep mid-page.

He notices the exact moment your breathing changes—less focused, less shallow. Your posture shifts. Your shoulder brushes his as your head drifts, then finally lands against him.

He doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even breathe differently.

You’re asleep.

On him.

And you don’t seem afraid. Or hesitant. Or unsure.

That’s what gets him.

You trust him without words, without needing permission. And that’s something he’s never known how to hold.

So he does the only thing he can.

He stays quiet.

The book in his lap remains untouched. The lights stay low. His body stays still—shoulder curved slightly toward you, just enough to keep your head resting comfortably.

And when the air around you starts to cool, he carefully, quietly, slides his jacket from his lap and drapes it over your legs.

Not because you asked.

But because you didn’t have to.

--------------------------------------

💋 Romance

Romance knows how to handle attention. He’s fluent in stolen glances and teasing fingers and clever smiles.

But he’s never been good at this.

At silence.

At stillness.

At you, fast asleep with your head tucked into the slope of his neck, breathing evenly against his collarbone like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He doesn’t dare move. Doesn’t even smirk.

Your hand is limp in your lap. Your expression soft, unguarded. You didn’t ask permission. You just… leaned.

He tries not to overthink it. Fails instantly.

He’s never been this quiet with someone. Never let someone see the parts of him that don't sparkle on demand.

But you’re asleep.

And still, part of him feels like you’re watching anyway. Like you’ll remember this when you wake up.

So he stays.

Carefully. Quietly.

Because no one else gets this part of him.

Just you.

----------------------------

🔥 Baby

You fall asleep on him like it’s normal.

Like the couch was always this comfortable, like the movie didn’t matter, like he wasn’t hyperaware of you leaning closer and closer until your head finally landed against his shoulder.

He stiffens. Glances down.

Your eyes are closed. Your breathing slows. You mumble something soft in your sleep—he doesn’t catch the words, but the sound makes his stomach twist.

He stares at the screen for a full minute before pressing pause.

The room goes quiet.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just listens to the steady rise and fall of your breath and tries not to combust.

“Say something,” he mutters to himself.

But you don’t. You’re asleep.

So he just shifts slightly—enough to keep your head from slipping. Enough to keep you exactly where you are.

And he stays there.

Like maybe if he doesn’t ruin this, you’ll choose to lean on him again when you're awake.

---------------------------

M-List

[latteodyssey]

‘cause my baby's sweet as can be | being damian wayne’s love interest headcannons˚｡⋆ ୨୧

masterlist

craving your company. — he didn’t like admitting it to himself at first, that as much as he would make snarky comments about how annoying it was that you wouldn’t leave him alone, he started missing you deeply when you weren’t around. his head was gradually consumed by thoughts about how much you would have to talk about the topic of conversation that someone just mentioned, or how you would have made a comment about the scene from the movie he was currently watching.

deny, deny, deny. — he’s a stubborn man, it took days of spiraling and coming up with theories as to why he felt that way, before he finally came to terms with the fact that he’s into you. It had nothing to do with who you are as a person, but it had everything to do with him refusing to accept being vulnerable, accepting that he had no control over how he felt. And god knows how much he hated when things were out of his control.

the way you had such a deep effect on him without even knowing made him terrified to say the least.

doesn’t know how to act— he didn’t approach you right away after realizing the nature of his feelings for you, instead, you would often catch him staring at you, eyebrows furrowed. he would worry so much about his next move, his next line, that he wouldn’t even notice the face of extreme concentration he was making – which you would often mistake for annoyance.

“are you mad at me?” you asked, a mixture of concern and confusion filling your voice as you try to make sense out of the situation “you’re looking at me like you are”.

“i assure you I’m not” he answered in a matter of fact way, which did nothing to calm your nerves. little did you know, he was trying to control his own “you can continue on with your story”.

he’s terrible at giving compliments — instead, he makes observations, about the little things he notices about you, about the moments where he missed your presence – but he tells you in a way that you can’t tell if he’s being nice or sending a corporate email. "y/n. you’ve changed your hair.", “you weren’t at patrol/school today”.

makes excuses to hang out with you — damian always looks forward to spending time by your side, even if it’s just accompanying you while you do mundane things. suddenly it’s “I have nothing better to do” or “i don’t trust you to successfully achieve this alone, so I’ll come with you”.

practicing it in his head — he can’t just say how he feels, it needs to be done in the most perfect and efficient way possible. he spent days planning the way he would confess how he feels about you, where he would do it, exactly how he would say it, and how he would react to any possible outcome. he ends up doing it in the middle of an argument, unplanned.

“you’re so annoying, i don’t even know why I’m in love with you!”

a creature of habit — damian eventually got used, and attached to, the routine aspects of your relationship, it gave him a sense of stability deeply cherishes . the way you always kissed his cheek when you would part ways, the way you reach for his hand when walking, the fact that you call him just to say goodnight. and he misses these little things in case you end up forgetting.

you'll be drifting off to sleep when you hear your phone ringing, the blue light illuminating your face as damian's contact pops up on the screen. you pick up the call, there's a quick moment of silence before you hear his voice, heavy with sleepiness. "you didn't wish me goodnight."

“you called me just for that?”

“You don’t desire for me to have a good night?”

old fashioned terms of endearment — beloved, darling, and dear are his go-to nicknames for you. When talking to other people, he might refer to you as “my y/n” often.

using you as a human pillow — similarly to a cat, he approaches you silently, almost like he's expecting you to read his mind, resting his head against your shoulder, or laying it your lap. he's especially happy when you gently run your fingers through his hair. he feels almost addicted to your touch, the warmth of your hand against his skin.

[hioriri]

♡ spending time together!

little romantic(?) moments together :3

featuring ☆ xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb

tag(s): fluff!!

XAVIER would constantly nap anytime, anywhere. however, his favourite place to sleep/nap isn't on the bed, but your lap. he just loves when you play with his hair, twirling it and gently caressing it. his reaction? small nuzzles. your soft and gentle touch just makes him feel happy and safe.

ZAYNE would cuddle with you after a tiring day. it doesn't matter if he's tired or not, he wants to make up for the times when he didn't have a chance to hug you. the warmth and comfort of him makes you feel safe and calm. sometimes, you'd accidentally doze off, and he notices. he'll shift into a more comfortable position, then put a blanket on you to make sure you're not cold. finally, zayne falls asleep, his arms wrapped around you.

RAFAYEL would paint with you whenever the both of you are available. sure, it's nothing fancy, but it means a lot. rafayel also uses this opportunity to teach you more about color theory. the two of you then exchange paintings, rafayel would proceed to hang them on his wall. he actually dedicated a whole chunk of his wall, just to hang all your paintings on there. it makes him happy, he can wake up everyday to see your masterpieces, and how you've improved. he's just a cheerful and proud fishie after seeing all your wonderful creations.

SYLUS would cook for you whenever you crave his cooking (almost everyday). he just smiles and looks at you, reading your expressions to see if you enjoy the food or not. your smile and enjoyment while eating his cooking makes him want to give you the whole world. you and your smile are something he wants to protect until the day he dies.

CALEB would be clingy. if you had to leave for work in the morning, he'd always ask for just five more minutes. all those times he's deceived you, you lost track. five more minutes has been the biggest lie he'd ever told you. those five minutes suddenly turn to half an hour, to an hour, and then to you being extremely late to work. caleb is all smug about it, feeling extremely proud. he got to keep you, hug you, and shower you with kisses for hours.

©hioriri / please do not copy, repost, or translate. likes and reblogs are accepted and appreciated!

[stagtorccio]

please be rude

lottie matthews x gp!reader

request: x summary: Lottie's been off since the crash. You've got a running theory as to what's making her act out. rating: explicit, 18+ warnings: implied established relationship, porn with feelings, penetrative sex, girl penis reader (thanks anons), brat lottie renaissance, probably unsafe sex but it's fictional, (brief) fingering word count: 3.2k author's note: i know i know i know the header image is a season 3 screenshot but this takes place in season 1. in my head. please keep that in yours for maximum enjoyment <3

[AO3]

𓃢𓃦𐂂 ── .✦

You’re fairly certain Lottie Matthews has never gone untended for very long in her life. Not really, anyway.

Never a bruise left without a bandage. Never a craving unanswered, never a cut left to scab. Even now, stranded and filthy and mosquito-bitten, hair tangled as hell and half-starved most days like the rest of you, she carries herself like someone will look after her, sooner or later. 

Your hypothesis, your grand theory, is that this is why she’s been such a fucking asshole lately.

Sulking around the cabin. Picking fights that don’t need picking. Taking your things and then daring you to make her give them back, and when you do, she just laughs, utterly pleased with herself. 

At first, you’d chalked it up to stress. Called it cabin fever, as morbidly on-the-nose as it was. But the last time she teased you in front of everyone, she bit her lip the second you snapped back. 

It clicked then, sort of like kindling catching. That for some reason, she wants you angry. Wants your attention and doesn’t care how she gets it.

Today, it’s while you’re hauling water from the lake, arms slick with sweat, jaw tight from a full morning of silent effort. Van's helping you boil it in a dinky pot that never stays level, and Lottie— 

Well, Lottie isn’t being very helpful at all. 

She’s leaning on a stump nearby, legs crossed at the knee. When you mutter something about needing more hands and fewer onlookers, you hear the faintest scoff. You think you feel your eye twitch— which you thought, up until now, only happened in Saturday morning cartoons. 

“Careful, you’re spilling,” Lottie comments, mostly innocuous, but it irks you regardless.

“Maybe because I could use some help,” you snark back, setting the bucket down a little too forcefully. It sloshes onto your shoe like some sort of karmic deliverance. 

She does move to help you, eventually. With the same kind of theatrical sigh someone might use when they’re asked to actually do the thing they were trying to avoid. She crouches beside you, scoops up the handle of the next water bucket with a little more attitude than necessary.

The two of you walk in silence for a while.

The path down to the lake is worn now, familiar. Mud sun-hardened, branches cleared by the group’s repetition. Your boots crunch over dry pine needles and damp leaves, and behind you, you can hear Lottie’s steps following in sync. 

She keeps bumping into you, shoulder brushing yours, like she can’t quite figure out how much space she wants. She doesn’t apologize. You try not to snap.

The trees part near the bottom of the hill, and the lake stretches out in front of you, glassy and still in the midday heat, rimmed with cattails and buzzing crowds of mosquitoes.

You set the buckets down by the shore and roll up your sleeves. Lottie crouches nearby and watches you for a moment, arms looped loosely around her knees.

You feel her eyes flick toward you, then away, then back again.

Something in her still isn’t sitting right.

You glance over at her. The sunlight’s catching on her cheekbones, her collarbone, the sharp line of her shoulders under her tank top. Her mouth is set in that same stubborn pout it always falls into when she’s trying not to say something.

You want to ask what’s really going on. But you don’t. 

You just get up with your full bucket and start walking. Lottie follows suit. The trek back to the cabin is filled with more of that tense, sticky, unbearable silence. By the time you make it there, sweat is beading at your temples and the tension feels so tightly wound you’re sure one of you will explode soon. 

And then it happens. Lottie fumbles her bucket just as you both reach the fire, water surging toward the rim like it’s ready to escape and drench poor, unsuspecting Mari. 

“Careful—” you gasp, hand flying out to steady it instinctively. 

“I know,” she snaps, jerking it upright before you reach it.

You both freeze.

She sets the bucket down and backs away from it like it might bite her. You watch her jaw work, her breath come faster. She scrubs a hand down her face, agitated, then across the back of her neck like she can’t shake off the heat or the frustration or both.

“You okay?” you ask, tentative.

Lottie lets out a breath. “Fine. It’s fine.”

Her voice is brittle and fast. The kind of fine that’s meant to shut you up. The kind that means the exact opposite of fine.

You study her now. The stiff set of her shoulders, the way she won’t quite meet your eyes. Lottie, who never really hides anything, not well. Not from you.

You reach out. “C’mere,” you murmur, gesturing in some vague direction– anywhere away. 

She lifts her head, wary. “Why?”

You keep your voice low, eyes cutting to the rest of the girls, but they seem preoccupied.

“Because I want to actually talk about this.” 

Lottie hesitates. Long enough to pretend like she might say no. 

Then, she mutters a resigned, “Fine.” 

It’s a small victory. 

You take her deeper into the woods. Not far. Just out of sight of the others. Where the air is cooler, the sunlight slants differently, and there’s the illusion of privacy, at the least. 

Lottie leans against a tree, arms crossed. Still prickly. Still pretending this isn’t about anything in particular. 

“Lottie,” you say softly.

“I’m alright,” she replies, but she doesn’t sound sure. She just sounds like she’s trying to convince you– or maybe convince herself.

“But you’re not.”

She huffs. But she doesn’t deny it. Her eyes flick up, then away. 

Then, quietly, like a confession: “I don’t know. I’m… frustrated.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

She exhales through her nose. “It’s like—" she starts, then falters. “Like my skin doesn’t fit right. Like something's too much. In here.”

She gently touches her fingers to her sternum, skimming the pads of them over the fabric of her top with a creased brow, as if she’s actualizing herself in real time.

“Everyone is… too close. And you—”

That catches you off guard. “Me?”

She licks her lips. Looks you dead in the eye, for once. 

“You make it worse.”

You flinch. Just a little, because fucking ouch. But she’s already stepping forward, shaking her head.

“Not like that,” she murmurs. “You just— we never have any time alone anymore—”

She cuts herself off again, jaw flexing, and that’s when you notice it. The flush creeping up her throat. Spreading across her cheeks, blooming high on her ears. Like she can’t believe she just said that out loud. Like maybe it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

Hypothesis proven, you suppose.

You let the silence hang just long enough for her to get nervous, fidgety. Then:

“Lottie Matthews,” you murmur, a smile tugging at your lips, “are you telling me you’ve been a jackass because this whole time, you wanted me alone?”

She looks away, but she doesn’t step back. “I didn’t say it like that...”

“No,” you agree, “you didn’t. You’re just terrible at asking for what you want.”

She swallows. “I know.”

You step into her space, close enough that your fingers brush the hem of her shirt, just light enough to tease. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, voice soft. “Maybe just… tell me next time?”

She looks at you like a deer in headlights, eyes huge, then grabs you by the collar and kisses you. 

It’s teeth and salt and heat, the kind of kiss that feels like a devouring. Like she’s been wanting to do it for days– which she probably has.

There's a moment where she pulls back, as if stunned by her own want.

"Sorry, I just—"

You shake your head.

"Don't be."

And then your back hits the tree. Her hands are in your hair. Yours are gripping her waist, guiding her forward, chasing the friction–

She lets out a surprised breath. So do you, because you’re goddamn embarrassed. It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast. You’ve barely kissed her and your body has already decided to betray you.

Lottie stills. Just for a second. Then shifts away just enough to throw a purposeful glance down to the straining fabric of your shorts, voice catching on a laugh.

“Oh,” she says, delighted. “Really?”

You want to melt into the tree. “Shut up.”

She grins. “No, no, I mean—” She rolls her hips just slightly, just to feel it again, and a shiver crawls up your spine. “It’s cute.”

Your hands flex at her waist. “Don’t call it cute...”

“Then what?” she murmurs, pressing closer again, her voice dropping. Her mouth brushes your jaw now, lips warm and teasing. “... Hot?”

You groan. “Lottie.”

“Sorry,” she laughs, breathless, surprised at herself once more.

You kiss her again. Harder, this time. Your hands thread into her hair and tug just enough to make her gasp. Her own are under your shirt now, fingers skating along your ribs. You’re both panting, sweating, giggling between kisses. 

You barely register the bark scraping your back, the dirt under you, the heat coiling low in your spine. All you feel is her. Her breath, her mouth, the soft drag of her body against yours as the rhythm builds.

She grinds down again, and this time, the sound you make is loud. Lottie exhales against your neck, half-laugh, half-gasp, and you can feel her smiling when she presses a kiss just beneath your jaw. Soft, warm, absolutely fucking maddening.

“Shit,” you whisper, “you’re— fuck.”

She hums, pleased, almost smug. But when she looks at you again, she’s flushed and bright-eyed, her lips kiss-bruised. 

Her fingers go to your belt. You freeze for just a second, startled, but she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t say anything. She just starts to undo it, slow, almost shy. Fumbling, her hands shaking.

You grab her wrist. Not to stop her. Just to ground yourself. Her eyes flick up to meet yours. Waiting for you to tell her yes or no.

You nod. Barely. That’s all she needs.

The buckle slips free. The button pops open. She lets out a breath like she’s been holding it for hours. Her hands slip lower, toying with the waist of your boxers. She hesitates, then curls her fingers underneath, knuckles grazing your stomach as she drags the fabric down.

You bite your lip. Your hips lift, helping her, or maybe just needing her. And then you’re bare to the air, flushed and embarrassingly hard against her palm. 

Lottie exhales through a grin, wide-eyed with something close to awe.

“God,” she murmurs, fingers curling loosely around you. Her voice is low, warm, like it’s a secret she’s thrilled to uncover. She gives you a gentle stroke and watches the way your mouth falls open.

You kiss her again, slower now, one hand skimming up under the back of her shirt, palm flattening against the warm curve of her spine. The other drifts down. Fingers brushing the band of her shorts. You tug at it once, a teasing little pull, then glance up at her, a wordless question.

She nods fast, maybe too fast, but you don’t move right away. You drag slow fingertips across her stomach, reveling in the way the muscles jump under your touch. When you slip your hand further down, brushing where she’s already wet, her whole body jolts forward. She buries her face in your shoulder to mask a noise suspiciously close to a whimper.

“Jesus,” you murmur, “you’ve been like this all day?”

She nods against your neck. “Could we just—”

“Yeah. We can.”

You hook your fingers in her shorts and ease them down over her thighs, her briefs coming with, damp and clinging, pulled past her knees in a rush. You're kissing her jaw as you go and she shudders, legs twitching when the air hits her.

You sit back just enough to look at her. Really look. Her cheeks are flushed deep, her lips kiss-swollen, her pupils so wide the brown of her eyes is almost gone.

“Don’t stare,” she murmurs, smiling even as she says it. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not allowed to look?” you ask, grinning. “I thought you wanted my attention.”

That earns you a full-body blush. She laughs, breath hitching, and swats at your arm. You catch her hand and kiss her knuckles. 

“Come here.”

You guide her gently down, easing her back onto the pine-needle-soft earth. She giggles as her elbow sinks into a patch of moss, adjusting herself with one leg cocked, already open for you without thinking. Her hair fans wild beneath her, and her hands flutter, unsure of where to go— your shoulders, your chest, your hips— like she’s wanting all of you at once.

Her thighs part further to welcome you in, and your bodies fit in that fumbling way, hot skin to hot skin, breath to breath. There’s a beat of quiet where you both just look at each other, pressed close, trembling, grinning like fools.

“Okay,” Lottie breathes after a moment, a smile still curling her lips. “You can— if you want to, I mean. I’m ready.”

You nudge your nose against hers. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

So you press into her slowly. Carefully. The world narrows to the sound of her breath catching, her thighs tightening around you, her mouth falling open in a gasp. And when her eyes find yours again, wide and wet, you feel her everywhere.

You still, giving her a moment, your forehead pressed to hers. Her breath fans across your lips, fast and shallow. Her eyes flutter shut, then open again like she doesn’t want to miss a damn second of this.

“You okay?” you whisper.

She nods. “Yeah,” she breathes. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You shift a little deeper and she exhales like the air got knocked out of her. That sound’s going to haunt you for a few days, surely. 

Her back arches just slightly, hips tilting to meet you. It’s messy, ungraceful, bodies slick with sweat and effort. But it works. By God, does it work. Your skin sticks where it touches hers: the inside of her knee brushing your waist, the curve of her calf against the back of your thigh. Her hands slide down your back, nails dragging lightly, coaxing out shivers.

Each movement is tentative at first. Then again. And again. Until it isn’t so shy anymore.

Lottie moans low in her throat– startled first, then thrilled. Her laughter catches somewhere inside it, and she hides her face in your neck.

“You feel so—” she starts, then gives up on words altogether. Just breathes and moves.

You match her pace, slow and careful, but the friction’s maddening. Every shift drives a little more sound from her. Every grind of hips has you biting your lip. Your hand slips between you and you find her clit with your thumb, slick and swollen and aching for attention. 

She jerks against you with a strangled gasp. “Oh, fuck.”

The idea of Lottie Matthews having such a filthy mouth makes you laugh out loud. You circle your fingers gently, teasing just the lightest pressure, and she whines, her whole body twitching.

“Good?” you murmur, fingers sliding a little firmer now, just enough to make her hips stutter.

She makes a high, breathless sound. “Yes,” she sighs. “Just— please don’t stop.”

You don’t. You angle your hand, thumb gliding to press in tighter circles as your hips meet hers again, deeper this time. She’s falling apart already, thighs shaking, nails digging into your shoulder.

“God,” she breathes, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make me—”

You kiss her, quieting her with your mouth, swallowing every gasp and curse. Her body tenses, then trembles, thighs locking around your hips, walls pulsing around you as she comes hard against your hand, against you.

The pull of it– that tight, dragging heat– breaks you. That rubber band inside you snaps. You let out a low groan as you spill into her, hips twitching once, twice, your hand still caught between you as the last aftershocks rip through you both.

For a moment, neither of you moves. Just breath and sweat and silence. Her head pressed to your shoulder, your cheek against her temple, both of you boneless and slick, hearts pounding in time. 

Lottie strokes a hand down your spine, slow and absent. Touch that’s not about sex, not anymore– just reassurance. She hums, soft and content. Muffled against your skin. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs eventually, voice still shaky.

You laugh. You can’t help it. It bubbles up, warm and stunned. “Of course.”

She spreads her legs to let you pull away, winces a little at the mess between you, then slumps back again with a whimpering giggle. “Gross.”

You hum in agreement, eyes fluttering shut as you rest against the tree. A breeze moves through the trees overhead. Sunlight filters down in sleepy patches. You hold her like that for a long time, damp and tangled and peaceful.

Lottie shifts, nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck with a small, satisfied sigh. “We should head back soon.”

You snort. “Oh, now you’re eager to do chores.”

She laughs, tired and light, the sound buzzing gently against your collarbone. “Just trying to avoid the gossip.”

You kiss her hair. “They’ll talk anyway.”

“True,” Lottie mumbles. “At least it was worth it.”

You both linger a moment longer, reluctant to move. The ground is uneven, your limbs are half-asleep, and your clothes are… in an unfortunate state. But there’s something soft here. Settled.

Eventually, Lottie sighs and pushes up on her elbows, grimacing as she pulls her underwear back into place. “Well. We’re disgusting.”

“Speak for yourself.”

She gives you a look— irritated yet fond— and reaches down to help you fix your belt with trembling fingers. Her hands linger at your waistband a touch too long. You don’t mind.

Once you’re both mostly decent, you gather your scattered minds and try not to think about how you’re going to walk back into camp looking freshly ruined.

You glance over as Lottie runs a hand through her hair, fails to tame it, and sighs like she’s given up entirely.

“I look like I got mauled by a bear,” she says dryly.

You grin. “Was the bear hot?”

“Mhm,” she hums, tilting her head like she’s remembering. “She was gorgeous.”

Your face warms immediately. Lottie sees it, of course she does, but pretends not to, biting her lip like she’s trying to hold back a smile. Seven different ways to call her an asshole come to mind, but before you can pick one, she leans in and kisses you again. Quick and sweet, just because she can.

Then, quieter, her voice muffled against your shoulder:

“You’re not still mad at me, right?”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t mad at you in the first place.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, something soft in her eyes. Relief, maybe a touch of surprise. That smile blooms again, fuller this time. Uninhibited.

You reach for her hand. She takes it without hesitation. Together, you start the walk back through the trees, sore, sticky, still laughing, and already missing the moment.