#this is specific and no one else knows what i mean

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Handsy Vika

Sevika x Female Reader.

Your girlfriend loves your chest.

(Head Cannons || Smut + Fluff)

MEN DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT!!!

Cw: Nipple play. Reader doesn’t have a specific chest size, but do they bounce?? idk if thats like.. IDK. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Not Proofread || Note: HAPPY NEW YEARS AAYYY!!! 🥳

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika’s more of the handsy type.

She likes having her grip on things. Whether it’s holding your hand, tapping your ass, wrapping an arm around your waist or even your hips, she likes having you in her grasp— she likes the silent marking of her territory. Letting everyone know you’re hers and only hers.

One thing, however, that gets her attention more than anything else is your chest. She likes how plump your breasts look, how they’re just screaming for her to touch; for her hands.

She doesn’t have a specific type in how big her girlfriend’s boobs should be. But, as they say, the more the merrier.

She enjoys the view of your cleavage. She could stare at it for hours, really. The sight of you in a low cut top makes her hands itch for a poke, a squeeze even.

Even sitting in her lap at The Last Drop she has to hold back the urge to get a brush of a touch. It’s like there’s this invisible force pulling her hand to your chest.

One thing she’ll never admit is that she actually enjoys watching you walk around. She gets lewd thoughts just watching your breasts slightly bounce up and down.

We all know Sevika’s pretty damn protective, but it’s heightened whenever she sees someone’s eyes lingering a millisecond too long on the exposed skin of your chest. She knows you’re pretty, and pretty things attract attention, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. You’re her pretty thing, not some lost diamond waiting to be claimed.

What about when no one else is around? When it’s just the two of you in your shared apartment? When she can do whatever she wants to you?

Watching you walk around with your tight tank top turns her on. More than you’d ever expect.

It’s the way you’re so casually making your way towards the kitchen for a cup of water that gets her heart rate spiling. It’s the way your damn breasts look, all round and soft, that gets her mouth watering.

After trying her best to hold back, your girlfriend will call you over, feigning loneliness and luring you into her lap. And, undoubtedly, you never say no. Not even when her finger runs up and down your stomach, inching closer to your bra. How could you say no to pleasure?

She’ll sweet talk in your ear, whispering dirty little words about your breasts all the while cupping them under your shirt.

“My baby has really soft tits.” Yes, she calls them tits. “You’re harder than before, y’like this?” She’s referring to your hardened nipples. “What if I just?..” and she’ll give you a pinch and a hard pull.

Sometimes what turns her on further is pulling your shirt over your chest, not taking it off but only moving it. Sevika doesn’t understand why she thinks it’s so much more hotter, but all she knows is that she enjoys it.

Kissing your neck with her dark lips while twisting your nipples inbetween her fingers is one way to start it off. She’ll occasionally give them soft squeezes, pushing them together and, as embarrassing as it is for you, poke them and watch them recoil.

All you can do is shiver and moan. The cool metal of her mech hand always makes it harder to focus, especially when she slides it down, under your shorts, and presses it against your clit. It’s a sensation you can’t get enough of, can’t really describe. There’s no real motion, no friction, just a cold touch that makes you squirm.

(No, she won’t stick her mech fingers up your hoo-haa. She’s too scared it’ll scratch you. What if it malfunctions? She’d rather use her flesh fingers.)

Switching spots with her mech hand, she’ll rub against your pulsing clit. She likes feeling your hips shudder in her lap, the way your thighs close and push her fingers harder against you. She has no shame in what it does to her.

Her silver eyes never leave your form. She’ll stare at how her mech fingers are able to dig into your breast, how her flesh hand looks under your shorts, giving them a buldge, how you bite your lip in pure enjoyment, and even how your jaw drops afterwards. Sevika’s in love with your reactions.

Other than using her hands, Sevika likes tasting them aswell. In a comfortable position, she could gobble you up. Nipple in her mouth, she rubs her tongue against the tip. She’ll even, occasionally, give you a gentle bite, a suck and a pull.

She likes keeping eye contact while she does this, because, again, she loves seeing your face as she’s making you feel good. Knowing full well your cunt’s throbbing for more, yelling for contact, she won’t give it to you that quickly.

Alright, now.. what about Sevika when she’s not in the mood for sex? When all she needs is comfort?

After a long day of fixing up after someone’s bullshit, all your girlfriend needs is you.

She’ll come home late and immediately drag herself to the bedroom, laying her eyes on your half-asleep figure. It makes her sleepier.

And you, being the amazing girlfriend you are, always opening your arms for her muscular body to melt into.

She’ll rest her head on your natural cushions, arms lazily draped beside you on the bed as she deeply sighs in relief. Her back pain’s gone (she’s just distracted), her headache lessened, and she’s feeling so, so, so much better.

You’ll press heavenly kisses on her head, fingers playing with her dark hair all the while massaging her scalp. You know full well how to get her relaxed.

Earlier, the mention of your breasts feeling like stress balls— Yeah.. she’ll flip on her side and let her flesh hand give your chest a few, lazy squeezes. Your girlfriend’s too exhausted to care and she’ll continue until she’s snoring in your arms.

[epsilonicronecronomicon]

OC I'M ANSWERING FOR: Bitknock Bonesaw, Humblewood campaign setting

1. "I don't know how I got this/I don't know what this means." Every one of his little trinkets has a history; his life is encrypted in an unsolvable sequence of hollow clicking sounds. But he rarely lies for reasons other than safety... Some people would fear him, for what he's done. For whose feathery skin hangs from whose beaked skull he wears.

2. Not too freely. "Friend" is a label given only to people on the same moral level as him, who condemn the same people and love the same love. He does not want another chase, another "friend" to run away from like a convict, so a "friend" can only be someone who runs beside him... or someone who runs slower.

3. Most of the time, actually. He has no filter for them. If he truly wants to hide them, he will huddle in a tree alone with his giant wings obscuring his face, which could begin to wet the skin on his mask with tears. But apprehension, anger, joy? Those are even openly discussed. The only emotion he will hide is the effects of another's betrayal.

4. Play-fighting. He and the boys in his village would organize duels for the girls and younger fledglings to watch. He was always bigger, heavier, sharper— he could always win. But that wouldn't make much of a show, so he also picked up the skill of entertainment, specifically the art of being horrifying.

5. No, he cannot cry on command. He can, however, look sad like a fake-hurt puppy convincing its master to share her scraps. Usually with a similar endgame.

bro is a dog

6. He enjoys washing his own feathers with orange-pigmented rocks— a common habit in lammergeiers like him. He doubts anyone else would be interested. Sometimes he even finds a rock that makes it look like dried blood.

7. Most people he knows just call him "Bonesaw", which is a wonderfully badass thing to call out in a crowd. He has very good hearing; it always works. Some of his party members might someday refer to him as Bitknock; this would be a new and oddly pleasant experience for him.

8. He's never said it in his life, not even in knock-speak. All of his love is shown through his actions— his favors or his cries or his touch.

9. I would say gentle love, but in a very... confused and unrecognizable way. He's not totally sure how to show it or when to show it, so he will typically only show pure unbridled affection when it is shown to him first. Like if he is given a hug. As for recieving, he will never have a preference.

10. That the skull rings he knocks together to communicate and digs in the ground to mark his territory or sign a letter? They can play music too!! They sound like spooky skeletal castanets.

11. They'd ask him to play his music or use knock-speak. His specific style takes months, even years to learn, and a doppelganger only springing into existence that day might not know a single song or sentence.

12. He doesn't laugh at things he finds funny— the closest he might get to laughter is joyful squeaks whilst play-fighting. That's how you know he really likes a fight, or really likes you. He'll just be calling.

13. Bitknock doesn't smile. He doesn't fake it, either.

14. A sharp exhale is typically enough to do it. A small fire on the ground might be put out with a slam of his fist.

15. While in combat, he's twitchy and silent, showing no emotion and striking fear into the enemy. In a large group by the fire he's much more talkative. Alone, he's inquisitive or deep in thought, but silent nonetheless. Alone with someone else, he's either killing them or gently, kindly holding their hand.

16. People with a strong, unshakeable sense of morality. Or justice.

17. Most others first notice his unusual size for a Raptor, or his gigantic spiky wings, or his nightmarish, unreal disposition. In the mirror, he notices his eyes glowing under the mask.

18. Her name is Thimphina Muku La Kivi. She's a socially inept nomadic owl girl with a secret lurking under her humble tree-torn cloak. They know each other through their travels <3

19. Be silently angry, maybe grumble and literally push them back if they try to interact with him. No way is he dealing with this right now. If he's gonna talk about how he's feeling he's doing it when HE chooses to so fuck all that noise forever

20. He doesn't know anybody like that. Yet.

will add to this later

@wearethesensum IMPORTANT if you want Ambrose to make a good impression

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

When do they fake a smile? How often?

How do they put out a candle?

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

How do they greet someone they like / love?

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

What’s a phrase they say a lot?

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Who would / do they believe without question?

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

[producedbysohyun]

Shark Week

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid game would react to you being on your period (all separate)

Includes: Thanos, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju (non!squid game au)

Warnings: We are pretending for this one they aren’t all in major debt 🤗, If you’re scared of periods don’t read I guess?? 😭

a/n: this goes out to all my people who have to deal with periods! We are in this together 😔✊

Thanos

Ya you’re out of luck with this one 😔

Probably the worst person to have with you during your period

Definitely trys to rap his way into making you feel better but just fails miserably

“I know another way to make you feel better 😏”

“No”

“Ok 😞” *walks off with yet again another failed attempt*

If you asked him to go out and by you pads he would probably come back with those small cotton pads for your face

I mean he’s trying 😭

The type to ask “are you on your period” whenever you’re in a bad mood and is met with a slap every time

Doesn’t know what else to do so he probably just goes even more broke buying a bunch of food for you

(“With what money” we all yell in unison 🗣️)

Tolerates watching your “stupid” shows that you like just to make you happy but ends up being really interested

Se-mi

One of the best people to have with you

Deals with her period really well so she doesn’t really understand your pain but she gets the other things

Cuddles you all day!!

Literally turns into your slave

I feel like she would tease you about something and then accidentally make you cry because you’re overly sensitive

She feels so bad and you better believe she’s gonna watch what she says for the remainder of your period

You guys watch shows all day and just eat junk food

*stares at you dying in pain* “is it that bad?”

*starts crying*

“What- nooo baby I’m sorry” *cue her kissing all over your face*

I’m in love with her

Dae-ho

*sigh* I love him

Dude has four sisters so you are in luck

He definitely knows what to do

Gives you so much cuddles

He’s probably extra clingy to you during this time but if you tell him you want space he definitely respects it

If you’re having cramps he’ll give you tummy rubs 😔

I need him so bad wjdvjwwjwdjwkwj

Lowkey gets a bit freaked out when you start having mood swings

So he’s definitely careful with what he says not that he could ever hurt your feelings anyways

Is there to comfort you when you start crying over dumb stuff and NEVER makes fun of you for it

Gets you all your favorite snacks!!!

Ugh I need him

Myung-gi

Lowkey avoids you at first

Confused pt.3

He gets the hang of it pretty quickly tho

“Are you on your period” pt.2

Slapped pt.2

Poor boy didn’t even mean it in a bad way he was just genuinely curious 😞

Secretly looks up what to do

You guys binge watch shows together the whole day while cuddling

Try’s not giggle if you start crying over the show

And if you see him laughing it only makes you cry more

“No no Jagiya I’m sorrrryyy”

*Kisses your face till you stop crying*

Besides the laughing part he’s not a terrible person to have 👍

Jun-ho

Gives you your space

Kinda just lets you do your own thing but if you specifically need something he’ll do it for you

He’s up for giving you cuddles but you gotta ask him cause he doesn’t wanna do anything to upset you :(

Weirdly calm about the whole thing

Sends you texts asking how you’re feeling throughout the day as he can’t be there with you the whole time due to his job

Very very patient when you have mood swings

Buys you food pt.3

Overall not too bad

Hyun-ju

She definitely knows what to do

Very educated

Cuddles pt.4!!!!!!

Does everything she possible can to make you feel better cause she hates seeing you in pain

If somebody upsets you she will personally go and deal with them herself girl doesn’t play around

Constantly checks up on you asking if there’s anything she can do

Literally never makes you cry

She’s so gentle with you 🙁

10/10 person to have when your on your period

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed! This was a lot of fun to make!! Please send in requests because I don’t know what you guys want to read 😔

[alisonsfics]

guest lecturer - part two

pairing: tyler owens x student!reader

summary: when tyler owens shows up in our meteorology class to give a guest lecture, you are left just as speechless as all the other girls. but, tyler is just as awestruck by you.

word count: 3.8k

part 1

Ever since accepting the internship with Tyler, you’d been an anxious mess.

You were overthinking everything. Why did he want you specifically? Did that mean he was actually into you? Or was it just because you were smart and capable?

You spent many sleepless nights wondering how he felt about you. You had no idea if he was actually attracted to you or if you were just a one time, spur of the moment decision.

A few days after you told Dr. Hannigan that you’d accept the internship, you got a text from Tyler. He’d somehow gotten your number from Dr. Hannigan.

He didn’t even have to mention his name for you to know it was him.

Unknown number: “They say spring break can get pretty crazy ;)”

You: “Tyler?!?”

Unknown number: “You already know me so well, gorgeous”

That was the last time you’d talked to him.

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. So, while it would have been clear to anyone else that he was into you, you found yourself doubting it.

Somehow, you convinced yourself it was just flirty banter. So, you didn’t attempt to reciprocate it.

Normally, you had no problem knowing a guy was into you. Something about Tyler made you feel like an oblivious schoolgirl. You were mortified by even the possibility of humiliating yourself in front of him.

But you allowed yourself a pinch of optimism, and you packed your cutest bras in case that was where the week took you. You also picked out an outfit that was the perfect mix of cute and revealing to wear on the plane, since it would be the first time Tyler had seen you in a month.

When the plane landed, you could feel your nerves coursing through you. You anxiously tapped your fingers against your thigh. Normally, you were a pretty patient person, but not when you knew Tyler Owens was waiting for you on the other side of the airport.

You stared up at the seatbelt sign, hoping you could psychically make it turn off. Instead, the light seemed to mock you.

All you could think about was Tyler. You were excited to see his reaction to seeing you again. The possibilities seemed endless, which excited you.

You smoothed out your jeans and your tight tank top. It felt a little more western than your usual style, but you figured it would be appropriate for Oklahoma. As an added bonus, you hoped Tyler would like it.

You were brought out of your thoughts by the beep of the seatbelt sign turning off. You practically leapt up from your seat. You snatched your suitcase and managed to be one of the first people off the plane.

You were practically running through the airport. You didn’t know what was in store for this week, but you were eager for it to begin.

Your eyes scanned around the pickup area. You saw dozens of people waiting to pick up their family members. You searched for that all too familiar set of green eyes.

Over the chatter of dozens of conversations, you heard someone call out your name.

Your eyes snapped to where the noise came from. Instead of finding a certain cowboy meeting your gaze, you saw a woman.

Her dirty blonde hair was thrown up into a ponytail. Your confusion was written all over your face, so she smiled at you and waved you over.

“Hi, I’m Kate. I work with Tyler. He asked me to come pick you up.” She said, shaking your hand.

“Ohhh okay. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” You said, failing to hide the disappointment in your voice.

You felt like such an idiot.

You had really been convinced Tyler was going to pick you up. The small amount of hope you’d been holding onto left your body. You felt like you had misread this entire situation.

You should’ve known it was stupid to assume Tyler invited you to continue whatever happened in your professor’s office. This wasn’t personal. This was purely academic, and you were just the best candidate for the internship.

If he’d been into you, he would’ve been at the airport.

You felt mortified.

“Oh god, you were expecting Tyler, weren’t you? I’m so sorry.” Kate quickly apologized, picking up on your disappointment. You shook your head. “No, you don’t have to apologize. I was just being stupid.” You said, trying to hide your embarrassment.

All you wanted to do was hop on a plane and go back home.

Kate probably thought you were so pathetic. You just hoped she didn’t mention any of this to Tyler.

“No, it wasn’t stupid. Tyler really wants to work with you. He hasn’t shut up about your midterm paper in weeks. He said you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met. Something came up today. That’s the only reason he’s not here to pick you up himself, I promise.” Kate told you.

You appreciated the sentiment, but you were pretty sure she was just trying to save your feelings.

The ride to their base camp was long. You and Kate talked about your studies and some of the experiments she was working on. But you were still overthinking everything.

She pulled the truck into the parking lot of a motel alongside a big camp of other trucks. You noticed a bar and a diner across the street from the motel.

You both got out of the truck, and you grabbed your suitcase from the back. “Here you go. I think you’re in room 261.” Kate said, handing you a key.

“Hey, Kate! You’re back.” You heard someone exclaim. You glanced over your shoulder and saw two guys walking towards you. Kate waved at the two men and gave them both hugs.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Javi, and this is Boone. Tyler’s told us a lot about you.” The one man greeted you. Before you could respond, Boone stood a step closer to you. “He didn’t mention how pretty you are.” Boone said, slowly shaking your hand.

Javi quickly pulled Boone backwards. “Why don’t you go get settled in your room? We were all planning on going to the bar tonight? I can come get you later.” Kate suggested, guiding you towards the motel.

As you walked away, you saw Javi elbow Boone in the side. “Come on, man, you remember what Tyler said, she’s off limits.” You heard him whisper.

You felt your stomach do a flip as you processed what he said. Tyler banning his friends from flirting with you had to mean something.

After you found your room, you flopped backwards onto the bed. Thoughts of Tyler swirled around your head. You wondered where he was and when you would see him.

As if on cue, you heard a loud truck outside with the radio blaring.

You walked over to the window and peeked out the curtains. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the big red truck pulling into the parking lot.

Tyler climbed out of the truck, running a hand through his perfectly messy hair. You felt a shudder run through you as he placed his cowboy hat on his head.

Tyler wasn’t your usual type, but there was something about him.

You wanted to run out and talk to him, but he’d know you’d been watching him, and you didn’t want him to think you were desperate.

You couldn’t help but admire his biceps as he lifted some equipment out of the bed of his truck. You watched him for longer than you cared to admit.

You remembered Kate said you were all going to the bar later tonight. You started to dig through your suitcase to pick out an outfit.

You grabbed a high-waisted pair of jean shorts that made your ass look great. You paired them with the black cowboy boots you brought, along with a lacy black tank top.

You also weren’t ashamed to admit you had a sexy red lace bra and panty set on underneath. You jumped when you heard a knock at your door. You quickly put on a cute flannel and grabbed your phone.

You opened the door and saw Kate. “You ready to go?” She asked you. You eagerly nodded and closed the door behind you.

You noticed yourself constantly looking around and over your shoulder for Tyler. Kate noticed too, but didn’t mention it.

You both immediately spotted Boone and Javi at the bar. They quickly waved you over. “Come on, ladies. We’re doing shots.” Javi said.

Before you could question it, they handed you and Kate both a shot. The four of you clinked your glasses together and downed the shot. You winced and clenched your fist as you swallowed.

“Oh, fuck. Was that tequila? Can’t have too many of those or I’ll get fucked up.” You said, earning a chuckle from Kate.

“Now, that I’d like to see.” You heard a deep voice say from behind you.

You spun around to see who was talking to you. You didn’t really need to look. You already recognized the cologne.

Then, you saw those green eyes staring back at you. You could feel your eyes go wide, and your heart start to beat faster. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

Tyler was the only one that heard it. The smirk on his face was all the confirmation you needed that he’d heard you.

“So, how’s the smartest girl I know?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. You quickly nodded your head, as an incoherent string of words left your mouth. “Yeah, no— uh huh. I’ve be— been good.” You mumbled.

He pulled you in for a quick hug. “I’m still makin’ you nervous, gorgeous?” He whispered in your ear as he hugged you. Goosebumps spread down your arms.

You both were completely aware of the way Boone, Javi, and Kate were all staring at the two of you. It didn’t take a genius to see the tension between you and Tyler.

Tyler licked his lips as he looked you up and down. He wanted to take in every inch of you. The way your shorts hugged your hips. Your shiny lipgloss, more specifically how bad he wanted to see it messily smeared across your lips.

The one thought he kept coming back to was how much better you’d look in his hat.

“I’m glad you were able to come.” He said, smiling down at you. You hadn’t remembered how tall he was. “Yeah, I’ll bet you’re glad.” Javi muttered under his breath with a smirk.

“C’mon, let’s go talk.” He said, gesturing towards the other side of the bar. His hand landed on the small of your back as he led you across the room.

With his large hand pressed against your back, you couldn’t help recall how effortlessly he’d picked you up and set you on the desk. You pushed away the thought and the warm feeling in your stomach that accompanied it.

“I meant it before. I’m really excited to work with you. We have some exciting tests and stuff that I think you’ll enjoy.” Tyler said, twirling you around so you faced him.

“I’m really grateful for the opportunity.” You said, smiling up at him. You were wracking your brain for anything else you could say, but your mind had gone blank.

“You’re saying it like I’m doing you a favor. You earned this. Dr. Hannigan sent me a bunch of your work. You’re fucking brilliant.” Tyler told you.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. Before Tyler could say anything else, he froze, and his eyes locked on yours. He reached his hand towards you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, waiting for his next move.

He softly interlaced his fingers with yours and pulled you towards the dance floor. He pulled you backwards into his chest until you both were pressed up against each other. His hot breath ran down your neck, giving you chills.

He confidently stretched his hand across your stomach. He was marking you as his in front of anyone. Every guy in the bar knew not to mess with you if you were with Tyler.

With a rare burst of courage, you grinded your hips back against him. He groaned in your ear. “Oh, fuck, gorgeous,” he mumbled. His voice came out deeper and huskier than you’d ever heard it.

He moved your hair out of the way and started kissing behind your ear. You felt a cocky smirk grow on your face. You knew exactly whose room you were ending up in tonight.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, making Tyler hips rut into you. “You know, I saw you watching me from your room earlier? It took all my self control to not go up to your room.” He whispered in your ear.

The room erupted into gasps, causing you both to separate. Your eyes drifted to the front door where Javi had just tripped over a barstool and fell face first.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me. He’s fucking wasted. I have to bring him back to his room. I will be right back. I promise.” Tyler said, running over to Javi’s side.

You found a stool at the bar to sit at while Tyler was gone. Then, Boone appeared at your side. He reeked of booze, and you could tell he was almost as drunk as Javi. “Hey, Boone. You doing okay?” You asked, gesturing towards the seat next to you.

He plopped himself down and nodded. “I saw you and Tyler getting friendly.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Your embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. The last thing you wanted was Tyler’s friends thinking you slept with Tyler to get the internship.

“Oh, you saw that?” You asked, nervously. He just chuckled and nodded.

“Don’t worry. He told us all about you and your little spicy time at office hours.” Boone whispered. You felt like your heart skipped a beat. You had full confidence Boone only mentioned it because he was hammered, but that meant Tyler had told him.

Your anxiety and overthinking went into overdrive.

Everything started to click into place for you.

You were his trophy. The hot, young college girl for him to brag about to his friends. He didn’t care about your work or teaching you. He just wanted to get in your pants and show you off to his friends.

“Oh, I’m gonna be sick.” You mumbled, heading for the front door. You felt unbelievably naive. Of course a guy like Tyler would act like this.

You walked across the parking lot, towards your motel room.

“Hey! Wait up, where you goin’?” You heard Tyler call after you.

You ignored him and kept walking, speeding up your pace. “Leave me alone.” You yelled at him over your shoulder when he started to follow you.

You kept walking, ignoring Tyler’s voice. You heard his footsteps speed up as he ran to catch up with you.

He jumped in front of you and put his hands up to stop you. “What’s wrong?” He asked you, confused.

“Why did you invite me here?” You asked him point blank. His expression only became more confused. “What do you mean? I already told you.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Tyler searched your eyes for any idea of why you were so upset. “You told Boone…” you said, softly.

“Told Boone what?” Tyler asked, gently cupping your face. You sighed and pushed his hands off of you. “You told him that we almost hooked up. You didn’t want me here because you think I’m smart. You just wanted to have a hookup with a college girl that you could brag to your friends about.” You said, storming off towards your room.

Tyler could only watch in shock as you walked away.

As soon as you got to your room, you fell onto your bed with your head in your hands. You didn’t know how you were supposed to face Tyler tomorrow morning. You laid there for what felt like hours trying to decide what to do. You debated packing your bags several times.

You were taken out of your thoughts when there was a knock at the door.

You walked over to the door and opened it a crack. You saw a sympathetic Tyler.

“Please, let me explain before you slam the door in my face.” He begged you.

You stepped out of your room and closed the door behind you. “What do you want?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“I promise that our almost-hookup and my attraction to you has nothing to do with why I wanted you to do the internship. I really think you are brilliant. I’m sorry that I told Boone and Javi about us. I only did it because they’re my friends. I didn’t think about it from your perspective and realize they’re people that you’re going to work with professionally. I’m really sorry.” He said, genuinely.

You pursed your lips, thinking about whether you’d accept his apology. Something in his eyes made you want to trust him. “Thank you for that. I’m sorry too. I think I got anxious and started to overthink everything. I've never done anything like this.” You said, honestly.

You could see the relief on Tyler’s face. “C’mere,” he said, leaning in giving a short kiss.

“You know what? I have some baseline readings I need to get before tomorrow. You want to go on a little trip?” He suggested. As soon as you nodded, he swooped you up bridal style and carried you to his truck.

He helped you into the truck before jumping into the drivers seat. You both drove in silence until Tyler got where he wanted to go.

You both got out and walked to the back of the truck. You helped Tyler take some measurements in a peaceful silence. Every few minutes, Tyler would do something goofy to get you to giggle.

After you’d finished the measurements, he lifted you up into the bed of the truck, where he’d set up a blanket. You patted the seat next to you, so Tyler would join you.

“You want to know the best real-world tip I can give you for storms?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You looked over at him, waiting for his answer.

“Gotta listen to the wind and be able to know what’s happening just by listening. Here, I’ll show you.” He told you, opening his toolbox. He grabbed a small towel and carefully tied it over your eyes. “Listen, over to the left. You can hear the pressure shifting.” He whispered softly to you.

“The winds picking up over there.” You said, pointing over to the right side.

“Yep, that’s right, gorgeous. You’re a quick learner. It took me forever to recognize stuff like that.” He told you.

The wind quieted down, and the air felt peaceful. The only noise you could hear was Tyler’s soft breathing. You felt his large palm rest on top of your thigh. “What’re you doing?” You asked, softly.

There was a change in the air.

You felt Tyler’s lips on yours.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he kissed you. You quickly kissed him back. His other hand found your hip and laid you down. A groan escaped his lips as you ran your hands down his back.

Tyler eagerly tugged your flannel off your arms and threw it to the side. You pulled off your blindfold, and then saw Tyler unbuttoning his shirt. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you admired him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, as you ran your fingers over his now bare chest. Your hands landed on his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He kicked off his jeans and laid back down on top of you.

“Been dreaming of this for a month,” he told you, leaving sloppy kisses down your chest. He tugged your shirt over your head.

His movements stopped when he caught a glimpse of the dark red lace of your bra. “Wait til you find out it’s a set.” You teased him. Tyler shuddered at the thought.

His grabbed at the belt loops of your shorts and quickly pulled them off your legs. “Eager, cowboy?” You teased. He could feel his pants begin to tighten as he looked down at you. “I’m never gonna forget this.” He mumbled, before burying his face in your neck and sucking on the soft skin.

“You been thinking about finishing what we started? You been lying in bed thinking about that day like I have?” He mumbled against your skin. His hands slid down your sides, stopping on your thighs.

He ran his fingers over the outside of your panties. You let out a soft moan, bucking your hips up against his hand. “Need you,” you begged.

Tyler slid your panties to the side. He ran his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness.

“You’re gonna feel so good, baby,” he almost moaned. You tugged down his boxers enough for his cock to spring out.

“Come on, Tyler, fuck me. I don’t think I can wait much longer.” You begged him.

“Oh, fuck, gorgeous. You’re so needy. I can’t say no to you.” He groaned, grabbing your hips. He lined himself up and pushed into your folds.

You shut your eyes, whimpering as he pushed into you. “I’m ready. I need you to move, please.” You mumbled.

Tyler quickened his pace and started thrusting into you. He roughly grabbed your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes rolled back as he reached even deeper. “Oh, fuck,” he grunted.

You wrapped his hair around your fingers. You screamed out his name, bucking your hips up into his thrusts. “Go ahead, gorgeous. No one can hear you. You can be as loud as you want.” He said, speeding up his thrusts.

You guided one of his hands between your legs. He smirked against the kiss as he started rubbing tight circles against your clit. A high-pitch moan escaped your lips.

“I’m almost there, baby.” He moaned against your lips. You nodded your head. “Me too, oh, fuck,” you moaned.

Your fingers scratched down his back. You felt a tightness in your stomach. “Gotta go faster,” he mumbled, thrusting his whole body into you.

Your back arched against the blanket. Tyler's thrusts faltered. “Oh, shit,” he grunted as he came inside you.

Your stomach jumped as you hit your peak. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” you called out, as you came with him.

Tyler slowed his pace and then collapsed beside you. “That was even better than I imagined.” He said, kissing your shoulder. You nodded, still catching your breath.

“I think I’m officially a spring break fan.” You agreed.

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[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session - part three

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He pays her for private sessions, in which he gets to take her home and do whatever he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous. After you're short on a payment for Barry, he makes you pay in a different way. Rafe eventually finds out and he's not happy. Can Rafe get you out of this sticky situation?

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs, violence (fighting), death threats, guns, p in v, unprotected sex, language, praise, SMUT!, use of y/n like one time.

Word Count: 5.0k

Author Note: Hey babes! I originally got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. Some of this part was inspired by Dexter s7 ep9. This fic is NOT fully proofread. I'm SO SO SO sorry for being so inactive :(

This is the last part of Private Sessions! I'm actually pretty pleased with how this fic ended up, since it was only meant to be one part. If I get requests relating to this, or if I get struck with random inspiration, I'm not against writing more for this!

Credits: GIF from this post

After you’d hooked up with Rafe–well, you wouldn't exactly call it a hook up. After you had another private session with Rafe, your top paying client, also the entire reason you’re now a hooker, you stayed the night at his place. That morning, following the many, many orgasms he had gotten out of you and the half-hearted ‘goodnights’ you two had exchanged before falling asleep, Rafe had left you alone. He had woken you up, briefly mumbling to you about having some business to attend to, making sure you know that you’re allowed to stay for however long you please. Before leaving, Rafe gathered your scattered clothing and left it in a neat pile on one of the chairs in his bedroom. On top of the pile, he left you money. Sure, he had already given you nearly a thousand dollars for your time, but he felt that you deserved a tip, so he left a crisp hundred-dollar bill for you to find, as well as money to call an uber, since he’s unable to give you a ride back.

Of course this kind of treatment was completely unbeknownst to you. You had never expected Rafe Cameron to treat women this well, especially those he has to pay to fuck. But you’re not complaining. Your other clients never even spare a thought about how you feel, it’s only about them. But Rafe…he makes sure you feel good. He wants you to feel good. He cares about making sure you get what you need more than he cares about his own experience. This isn’t just confusing to you, since he’s also wondering why he cares, or why he’s even paying for you specifically when he has a variety of women he could fuck for free. All he knows is that he needs more of you–he needs to make things right with you somehow.

After you left his house later that morning, you had gone back to work. Barry wasn’t happy with you, you hadn’t come back like he asked last night. He needed you to work the floor, since you’re the ‘star’ of the club–the favorite. Which, all that means to you is that Barry’s got you working unreasonable hours.

“Shit…” he huffs, taking in your appearance as you show up at the club. Since it’s still morning, nobody else was there. You really had hoped he wasn’t there either, just wanting to get in, grab your shit, and go home. But of course that wasn’t the case. You stand there, gathering your items from your locker, feeling smaller with each passing second that he stares at you, laughing at your disheveled appearance. You had stolen some of Rafe’s clothes since you didn’t feel like wearing that tiny, itchy little dress you had left in last night. 

“I’ll be back for my shift tomorrow.” You tell him as you try to leave the room. However, he moves to block the doorway, causing you to pause, looking down at the ground with a huff, trying to keep your cool.

“Where’s my money, princess?” Barry asks, his voice cold. You sigh, having forgotten. You reach into your duffle bag, pulling out the cash Rafe gave you for your most recent session. You do the math in your head, determining what 25% of your earnings are. You round his cut up to about $300, handing him the cash.

“There.” You shove the money into his chest. “Your cut.”

Barry chuckles at your attitude, clearly not appreciating it. His hand lingers on yours for longer than what’s needed as he grabs the cash from you. He quickly counts the bills in his hand, sighing and looking back up at you. “This is all? You were gone all night and this…” he waves the cash in front of your face. “This is all you’ve got for me.”

You swallow roughly, nodding at him. “That’s 25%.” You say, keeping your voice strong. “And then some.” you add, with a bit less confidence this time, knowing it’s not enough to keep him from getting all worked up. 

Barry makes a small tsk sound, softly shaking his head. “How you gonna make this up to me then, hm?” 

“That’s your cut. I’m off today, so…I, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You try to move past him, but he grabs onto your shoulder, stopping you.

“Nah…no, I don’t think so. You were out all night, not my fault you settled for less than your rate.” Barry still thinks you had gone with the client you were meant to meet last night, not knowing you went off with Rafe. Not that it would change anything if he did know. Really, Rafe had actually overpaid, again, for your time and effort. But, you hadn’t planned on staying the night in his bed, he had just pushed you past what you could handle, tiring the both of you out. So you get why he thinks you were underpaid. “Not my fault you stayed out all night, like a real fuckin’ slut.” His words cause you to wince, you hated being called that, because you aren’t a slut. You never chose to sell out your body, you just need the money.

Barry can see the fire behind your eyes, the calm demeanor you try so hard to maintain threatening to snap any moment now. He can tell he’s getting under your skin, which makes him enjoy this all the more. “You’re gonna pay for your mistakes.” You can feel his grip on your shoulder tighten as his eyes scour your clothed figure as you two stand in the doorway.

“Barry, please. I need that money, It’s my money. We made a deal, and you got your cut.” You plead, except your voice isn’t polite and soft like usual, you’re clearly pissed. 

“Well…that’s not the only way.” He starts. You have a confused expression etched onto your face as he speaks. “You can always put in some hours today…” he explains, his hand dropping from your shoulder to the hem of the t-shirt you stole from Rafe. 

“But, we’re closed?” You remind him. “I guess…I guess I can come back later for a few hours.”

“No.” He leans in closer, smirking. His mouth is almost touching the shell of your ear, close enough that you can feel his hot, sticky breath against your skin. “You’re gonna put some time in right now. A little private session, hm?” His hand moves around to your backside, slowly trailing down the curve of your lower back. 

You recognize this tone of voice, the suggestion of his words hanging in the air heavily. Really, you can’t say no. Because there’s no fucking way you’re giving him another cent of your hard earned cash. So, you reluctantly agree.

Barry wants the full show, so he makes you get into uniform. He even went through your things, picking out what he wants you to wear. And of course he picks your newest pieces of lingerie, the ones Rafe had just gifted you last night. The one he told you was for his eyes only, which you had fully intended to honor his request, but you couldn’t say no to your boss. Barry had turned on all the club’s lights and music, setting the perfect scene for you both. He takes you into one of the private rooms. 

First, he has you start off slow, just simply sucking him off. After that, he makes you dance for him for what feels like an hour, until he’s hard again and ready for more. He fucks you. Though it doesn’t last long, which you’re glad, since he’s not giving any regard to how you feel. He fucks you selfishly, using you however he pleases. The only thing he does that shows any sort of regard or care for you is not finishing inside you, instead making you swallow his loads. After a couple of hours, he finally lets you leave, saying that you’re all paid up…for now. You figure that since he’s crossed this line with you, it’s not going to be the last. Knowing Barry he’ll be making up absurd excuses to make you ‘pay’ some more. 

You feel disgusting, so immediately you go home and shower, scrubbing any trace of him off of you. As you stand in front of the mirror wrapped in a towel, you observe the various marks covering your body from your clients. You hate the proof they leave on you, proof that you’re a hooker. You glance at the newer, more vibrant marks on your neck, you can’t help but smile a bit as you run your fingers over the bruised skin, remembering how Rafe has created them. Once you realize that you’re smiling at his memory, you immediately stop, shaking the thoughts out of your head.

The next day you return to work, absolutely dreading having to face Barry. Not only him, but you’re getting really over having sex with these wrinkly, old, men who can’t even get it up without taking a little pill. Each session you have with a client chipping a small part of yourself away. As you enter the staff room, you practically run into Rafe’s chest, his hands coming up to rest on your shoulders, stopping you. The two of you make brief eye contact before he walks out of the room that you’re entering. Barry stands in the center of the room, shaking his head as he looks up at you.

“Well shit,” he scoffs, rubbing a rough hand over his face. “Some boyfriend you got, huh?” Your eyebrows furrow immediately. Barry notices the crease between your brows. “Looks like you’ve only got one client now.” He chuckles.

“Wait…Rafe talked to you?” You ask, wondering if he was being truthful when he said he’d talk to Barry for you. 

“Yeah, Rafe. But don’t think that means you ain’t gonna get more hours on the floor. I ain’t losin’ my main source of cash just ‘cause your boyfriend’s a little jealous.”

You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes and tell him that he’s not your boyfriend. You can tell he’s pissed and doesn’t want to listen to Rafe. Which makes you wonder how he got Barry to agree to this, since you are the ‘star’ of the club. Barry scoffs, walking out into the main portion of the club. 

You feel like a major weight has been lifted off your chest, feeling so much better now that you don’t have to sell out your body. Well, other than when you’re dancing. But that’s different. At least nobody has to touch you anymore…other than those who you actually want touching you. 

After changing and getting prepared, you work the pole per usual. About an hour into your shift, you spot Rafe sitting across the club, getting a lap dance from one of the other dancers, except he looks like he could care less about her–he’s looking at you. You’re not jealous–no, definitely not. Why would you be jealous? He’s just your client; your customer. You make eye contact with him and instead of looking away, you find yourself staring right back at him while you dance.

On your break, you make your way into the back room, where a few of the other girls are also taking their break. You’ve never had problems with the other girls, but you’ve never called them friends either, just coworkers. You can hear them talking before you enter the room, and when you walk in, suddenly it’s silent as their heads turn to you. You ignore their stares, heading over to the fridge to grab a yogurt. You hear their whispers as you turn your back to them. 

“She’s fucking the boss.” One of them says earning a few gasps and a ‘really?’ from the others. “Yeah, I heard she doesn’t have to take clients anymore.” She responds. 

Another girl adds, “shit, I’d fuck him too if it meant I’d get special treatment”, earning laughs from everyone in the room. You take a deep breath, slamming the fridge closed and turning to face them. 

“I’m not getting special treatment!” You say harshly, a stark contrast to your typical shy demeanor. 

“So you’re not fucking him?” 

You’re so engulfed in frustration that you don’t even notice Rafe and Barry walk into the room. “Okay yeah, I fucked Barry once but it was because–” you don’t get to finish explaining before you’re cut off by Rafe’s sharp voice, which startles you.

“You fucked my girl?” He snaps at Barry. In which Barry just smirks in response, only serving to further piss Rafe off. 

“They’re my girls while they’re working. And I gotta say, she takes her job very seriously–”. Before Barry can get anything else out Rafe cuts him off with a quick punch to the jaw, causing him to tumble back. You jump back as all the other girls collectively gasp, but they know better than to intervene. Barry rubs his Jaw, standing up straight and chuckling dryly. 

“Country Club,” he laughs. “You really wanna do this, huh? All for a fuckin’ slut?” Rafe steps forward, punching Barry again before looking up at the others in the room.

“Get the fuck out!” He shouts before looking at Barry, moving to punch him again as the others quickly scurry out of the room. You stay, shocked at the event unfolding in front of you–because of you. The fight continues, Barry trying to fight back as best he can, but he’s no match for Rafe, especially since he’s got no motivation. 

Barry manages to get a few punches in, making Rafe step back for a moment. You see him reach into the back of his jeans, grabbing the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. You gasp again when you see the gun and step back until your back hits a wall. You know Rafe’s involved in some bad shit and you’re used to seeing him use cocaine, but you’re not used to him having a gun, especially with it being pointed at someone. Before you have time to even think, Rafe hits Barry with his gun, pistol whipping him and making him fall to the floor. 

Rafe leans forward over Barry, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling his head up until they’re face-to-face. “Call her a slut again–touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.” He spits, letting go of Barry, making his head drop back against the floor, all bloodied and bruised. You make yourself look away, not wanting to see the damage Rafe did–the damage you caused. “Consider this her notice.” He mutters quickly, tucking the gun back into his waistband as he turns to face you. “Let’s go.” He says quickly, moving to walk out of the room. But you can’t move, you’re still in shock from what you just witnessed. When Rafe turns around and sees that you’re not following him he lets out a sharp breath, walking over to you and grabbing you by the arm. “I said let’s go.” His words are demanding and mean, different from the way he typically talks to you. His eyes are cold and distant as he tugs you out of the room, through the club. The others watch him drag you away, not daring to say a word as they stare. 

Rafe takes you out to the parking lot, shoving you into his truck. You still haven’t even spoken a word by the time you get to his house. He pulls into the driveway, putting his truck in park and killing the engine. He speaks, still looking straight out of the windshield and not daring to look at you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” His voice isn’t as rough anymore, though still distant. You don’t respond which makes him look over you after a few silent moments. “I said m’sorry.” His voice is a bit louder, making you jump back in your seat. 

“I heard.” You mumble coldly. 

Rafe scoffs at your mumbles, feeling like you should be grateful for what he did for you. But you’re the exact opposite. You can’t let yourself feel relieved that you don’t have to work for Barry anymore. Because that was your job. And unlike Rafe, you actually need a job to survive. Plus, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into with Rafe now. You think back to what he had said to Barry just before the fight. He called you his girl. What the fuck does that mean?

His strong grip pulls you out of your thoughts as he tugs out of his truck, bringing you inside his house. He gets you up to his bedroom and you sit on the bed, just thinking in an uncomfortable silence. You blame this on yourself. You’re the reason the other girls have to sell themselves, because you fucked Rafe…and you can’t stop fucking him. You’re the reason they’re in that hell, and you got out of it because of Rafe. It’s not fair to them. And you’re the reason Rafe nearly killed the man he’s closest to. 

You watch as Rafe goes into the adjoining bathroom, trying to wash the blood off of his hands, which only reveals that his own knuckles are all battered and bloody. You get up from the bed, padding over to the bathroom. He sees you approach him in the mirror and he keeps his eyes on you. You tap his waist, silently signaling him to turn around. When he turns away from the sink, now leaning up against it instead as he watches you curiously. You carefully take his hands in yours, briefly examining them. “Here…” you let go, grabbing a nearby rag and getting it damp with warm water. “Let me…” you speak softly as you take one of his hands in your own, gently dabbing at his knuckles with the rag. He winces at the contact, “shit, I know, sorry. But I need to clean them.”

“S’fine.” He mutters. Not once does he take his eyes off of your face. He notices how your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you focus, making the slightest hint of a grin form on his beaten face, which you don’t notice of course since you’re too busy cleaning his knuckles. 

You finish one hand, now cleaning the other which isn’t quite as bad since it’s his non-dominant hand. Once you’re done, you look up at him. He’s standing so close you can practically feel his breath on your face as he stares down at you. Now that you’re finally looking at him for the first time since the fight, you see the bruise forming on his jaw and the slight blood stain at the corner of his mouth. You lift your hand up, gently caressing the bruise. You can tell he wants to wince, but he doesn’t let himself, not wanting you to pull your hand away. The tension is so thick it’s almost visible; the silence unbearable. The only sound being that of both of you breathing. 

“About Barry–” you start, feeling like you need to explain why you had slept with him. But Rafe doesn’t let you finish, walking away into his bedroom.

“Doesn’t matter.” He speaks sharply as he strips down into his boxers, setting his gun in the top drawer of his nightstand. You follow behind him.

“No, please just let me–” you cut yourself off, annoyed at the fact that he’s avoiding looking at you. You step closer behind him, gently touching his arm which makes him finally turn around. “Rafe…”

“What?” Rafe snaps, his eyes making uncomfortable eye contact with you, but you don’t turn away. 

“He made me give him a private session. ‘Said I didn’t bring back enough money for him. I had to. It was that or give him my money, b-but I need that money. I swear I didn’t want to-” You ramble, not sure why you even care to explain yourself to him, it’s not like you need to. 

“Jesus, shut up. I don’t care, alright? Just go to bed.” He waves your hand off of his arm, turning his back to you again as he pulls the comforter back and gets under it. 

You want to ask why you’re even here with him. He brought you here to…sleep? Why? But, you decide against it. Instead, you just walk over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. You quickly strip out of your “uniform”, feeling his eyes burn holes into you as you change into his clothes. You turn the bedroom light off on your way back to the bed. You climb in next to him, keeping somewhat of a distance between you two. You’re not exactly sure where he stands in all this or what you are. You wait for him to make a move and get closer, but he doesn’t. You both just lie there in silence. Eventually you start to doze off, though immediately woken up by the faint sound of a car pulling up, followed by some shouting. 

“Rafe Cameronn,” the voice calls out, soon banging on the door. It’s Barry. Fuck. 

You jolt up, but Rafe is already out of bed, pulling on a shirt and sweats, quickly getting downstairs to the door before Barry lets himself in. 

Still feeling loopy from sleep, you sit up in bed, listening to what’s happening. You can only hear shouting between the two, but you can’t tell what they’re saying. You leave Rafe’s room, walking more towards the front of the house where you can slightly make out the conversation. 

You hear Rafe yell, “The fuck is wrong with you? Did you not hear me say I’ll fucking kill you, huh?! Because I will. You know I will.”

“Nah,” Barry laughs. “I don’t think you will, country club.”

“You’re fucking dead.”

“No, you are.” Barry responds. “Pulling that shit on me in my own fucking club?”

When it gets silent, you get worried and peek out one of the windows facing the front of the house. “Fuck!” You panic when you notice that Barry has a gun pulled on Rafe who has his hands up. He doesn’t have his gun. You run back into Rafe’s room, grabbing his gun from inside his nightstand before you get the chance to think about what you’re doing. After fiddling with it for a moment, you manage to get the safety off.

You rush downstairs and with a deep breath, you swing open the front door, stepping outside with the gun raised, pointing it right at Barry. “Put it down.” You say weakly. Barry laughs at you, which is probably reasonable, you probably look ridiculous standing there with a gun, your hands shaking. You repeat yourself with more confidence and higher volume this time. “Put the fucking gun down! I swear to god I’ll fucking shoot!” You’d never pictured yourself like this. Hell, you’ve never even touched a gun before. And right now, it’s not the situation that scares you the most, but the fact that in this moment, if need be, you will pull the trigger. And it’s that fact that scares you. 

After some time, Barry gives a dry and defeated chuckle. “Alright, alright! Look,” he tosses the gun aside. You immediately move to give Rafe his gun and you stand behind his large frame. At this point, Barry knows he needs to accept the defeat. He knows he’s not gonna beat Rafe in this, not when it comes to you. “Fine, I’m leaving. I didn’t know she was yours like that, ‘aight? She’s done, she’s all yours now, Rafe.” Barry slowly picks up his gun, tucking it into his waistband before retreating to his car. Once Barry finally drives off, Rafe lowers his gun.

Your heart is racing from the adrenaline. So when you both get inside, you’re practically jumping his bones before the door even closes. Rafe doesn’t protest. He carries you up to his room, dropping you down onto the bed. Quickly, he’s shedding his layers until he’s completely bare in front of you. You do the same. He stands over you, staring at you for a moment with a hungry look in his eyes, making you feel like prey. In one move, he’s on top of you, kissing you eagerly. Pulling back to nibble on your earlobe, whispering to you. “Fuck that was so fucking hot, baby. Saved my ass back there, huh?” 

“I…I couldn’t watch him hurt you.” Is all you say before his lips are on yours again, his hand that’s not propping him up over you traveling your naked body, quickly finding your clit. You’re glad because you didn’t want to have to explain any more, because you don’t know why you did what you did. Obviously you care for him in some weird, twisted way if you were willing to kill a man to protect him from being shot. 

His fingers start to circle your clit, making you moan into his mouth. You close your eyes in pleasure. Without warning he pushes into you, gentler than your previous times with him. This time he actually gives you time to adjust. When he starts moving his hips against you, his thrusts are slow and sensual.

“Fuck…” you cry out. Your noises rile him up even more, he speeds up, finding the pace that makes you scream out his name. Your fingers dig into his muscular torso as he moves your legs to rest over his shoulders, making him hit the spongy spot deep inside of you. 

He leans down to kiss and nip at your neck, leaving faint marks behind. His lips trail lower and lower until he reaches your chest, latching onto one of your nipples. Between the unforgiving pace that he’s drilling into you at, his mouth on your chest, and his fingers teasing your clit, you’re seeing stars like you never have before. Your hips try wriggling away from the immense and almost unbearable pleasure, but he pulls you right back in even tighter.

“Fuck baby, so fuckin’ tight. Such a good girl f’me…” he groans against your chest, pressing quick, open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. “My fuckin’ good girl, yeah? All fuckin’ mine now…” he leans back to watch your face, noticing how your eyes are squeezed shut. He takes his hand away from your clit, grabbing your chin roughly. “Look at me.” Rafe demands. 

You obey, making direct eye contact with him as the band in your stomach snaps, releasing a burning heat that spreads throughout your entire body. His pace slows, working you through your high. Soon after, you feel the unforgivable feeling of him painting your insides with his hot, sticky release.

Eventually he stills inside of you, leaning down to kiss all over your body. When he’s fully soft, he pulls out and rolls off of you, laying on his side next to you. You catch your breath, turning on your side to face him. You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. “Holy fuck…” you mutter in disbelief. You hadn’t thought the last time with him could’ve been topped, but you’ve been proven wrong. Something about it was…different. This time it wasn’t just sex and you knew it. 

He reaches out, his touch gentle now rather than rough and desperate. His hair sticking to his sweat-beaded forehead, the look in his eyes and the smile on his face making you melt. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Rafe…” you say, slightly turning your head. Which he just moves right back to face him. 

“What is it?” His tone is soft and caring, like he actually wants to know what’s got you so quiet. 

“Nothing…well, it…it’s just…” you pause, taking a deep breath before saying what you’re thinking. You prepare yourself for the worst. “You keep…you keep calling me your girl?” 

He questions you back in response, his tone carrying a more serious note this time. “Is that an issue?” He runs his thumb over your eyebrow, admiring your features.

“No…well…I, I guess I just don’t know what you mean.” You say honestly, making him breath out a quick sigh. Shit, you think. 

“I mean…you’re my girl, y/n. You don’t need a job, alright? I got plenty money for us both, yeah? You can stay here whenever you want. You’re mine…’n I’m yours, yeah? How’s that sound, hm?” You just stare at him for a bit, questioning if he really just asked that or your brain is making it up so you don’t have to deal with the embarrassment. “Y/n?” He repeats softly.

“Yea…yeah.” You stutter, making him chuckle at how flustered you are. “Like…boyfriend girlfriend?” 

He laughs at your question, finding it adorable. “Yeah, like boyfriend girlfriend.” Rafe reassures you, his hand moving from your face to brush through your hair again.

“Yes!” You spit out a little too eagerly. You quickly flash a bright shade of red in embarrassment. You gather yourself, speaking at a normal speed now, “yeah…um that, that sounds good. I like that.” You smile.

He slides in a quick “I like you.” He smirks, thinking he’s so smooth which makes you laugh. He pulls you in for a soft, tender kiss. Rafe pulls you in, wrapping an arm over you as your head rests on his bare chest. He pulls a sheet up over you both. 

You lie there in a comfortable silence. Just when you’re about to drift off you tilt your head up to look at him, and he’s already staring at you of course. You mumble, “thank you…f-for getting me outta that club.” You lay your head back down and tilts his own head down to kiss your forehead. 

“Thanks for saving me, baby.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! I love you so so so much!!! I just hit 200 followers and I'm shocked, I literally just started posting in the beginning of November, so this is insane. Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Please leave requests! I can't promise I'll get to them all, but I really love receiving them and hearing feedback from you guys.

Taglist: @munsoncultedits

[summertimesadnessirl]

Sometimes I think it's like...

Cis people also put a lot of effort into passing.

Or we're encouraged to feel weird about not meeting gender based expectations socially?

I don't know if it's dysphoria, it's not fair to use that word.

I literally am cis and I have felt, in my life, all the time, that I'm not a "real" woman in some way. Not in a way where like, I feel cool and empowered by the idea of being without gender. I thought maybe that was it at one point. Like "maybe I'm trans. I get along better with male friends who aren't attracted to me and treat me like one of the guys. I get along well with trans people and I find some gender based expectations really hard." I don't think I am, because I can understand the idea of wanting to do drag or not talk about your gender online but when I think of people misgendering me when I am not doing those things it feels really bad.

But? Like? That feeling is taught to you when you're a kid. It never goes away. Your body isn't gender dimorphic enough. People don't treat you like they treat the other people of your gender. They are all confused by things you do. Things they do confuse you.

In my case I decided I'm just otherkin. I don't talk about it much. People take it the wrong way. I am not like the other people, even the other people with a lot of my mental health diagnoses, because I'm secretly not a human being like they are. My mom wanted a baby and came home for lunch because she was ovulating, and it was someone else who wasn't my father and they weren't human and they didn't want me but they impregnated her. They suck for leaving me. Whatever. It's fine for everyone to feel like I don't fit because they're another species and they let me live here in their community but we misunderstand each other all the time. I try not to creep them out if they aren't mean.

But like... why do you think all those "femininity coach" "feminine energy" people are radicalizing so many cis women? Why is that the title of "the feminine mystique?" Men definitely deal with that, too. Cis people don't stop being insecure about their gender identity just because they are cis.

So that's part of it.

But also like?

When you first meet a nb person specifically, you're like ???

Suddenly you realize how many things you say and do have a gendered component in your brain.

Like in animal crossing?

The og animal crossing gave you the choice of saying

"Isn't it cute?" Or "Isn't it cool?" To tell the game your gender.

Isn't that weird? Like?

I didn't realize that's what the question meant, because it didn't say, and then I kind of felt insane for like a week after. Like???

Cool and cute. If you think of it as a question like "each one of these means a gender" you know which they mean is which. But if you just objectively say "do you think your name is cool or cute?" Why would someone think that? Also how do I immediately know which is which when you tell me cool and cute are the two genders?

I was a kid. They didn't have stuff about gender all over the internet then.

This was brand new information.

It was like...

Baby's first non dualism.

Idk.

People don't realize how much of manners is based on the person's gender unless they actually think about it.

And the older people are, the more important manners are to them.

Probably if they are not evil, you can just tell them how to do manners for you and they will leave you alone. Which isn't a good solution but that's the problem for people who aren't evil.

Okay but can anyone articulate the mindset that leads older people to feel like they NEED to know people's gender identity all the time? Like what's going on there

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

caldre smut fic

includes smut, handjobs, cliche porn scenarios, andre being a freak for cal protecting him, etc.

note: hope you enjoy! please bear with me on this one - i didnt get the chance to spell check or read over it again. if things are messed up just ignore it please<3 it wouldnt be anything major.

getting into fights was a rarity for andre.

andre was a good kid in that regard. in a lot of ways he was, but specifically that one. he didnt care for pointless fights over stupid things, he just didnt see the point.

that didnt mean it stopped other people from trying to fight him, though.

getting bullied is apart of the normal high school experience, but andre and his best friend, cal, had been put through more then necessary. they got pushed around and made fun of constantly, it wasnt pleasant at all. no bullying was, but this specifically wasnt.

for some reason, a particular set of people *really* had it out for andre. in all honesty, andre had no idea what he couldve done to illicit such a reaction from these people - it wasnt like he was going out of his way to be a total dickhead back.

well, sometimes he would say things back. maybe that was it, but even then he did that to everyone who seemed to have a problem with him, so he wasnt sure what got these people so pissed off.

it didnt matter though, what mattered was the fact they had tried to fight him for no good reason.

it was during one of their free periods - calvin and andre were outside by his car, enjoying themselves. they didnt like to be stuck inside around all of the people they hated, so if they could help it then they would.

two people had come up to them and andre recognized them immediately as the guys who really didnt like him. he figured they were here to say some stupid bullshit and then leave, but it came completely out of left field whenever one of them had gotten a good swing on andre - punching him square in the face.

by no means was andre weak. he was a lot stronger then most people would assume, he had good muscle on him and wasn’t totally clueless when it came to these things, but that didnt mean he would indulge in it. in fact, he had completely froze up and wasnt able to do anything *at all.*

it was pathetic to say the least and incredibly embarrassing for him, but he was lucky to have had cal there because just a moment later, cal was already laying it on to the guy who had punched him.

it wasnt a very fair fight considering it was two guys against cal, but he seemed to manage - at least somewhat.

unlike andre, calvin got in trouble quite often and had his own fair share of spats and fights over the years, so he wasnt as hesitant to fight - especially if it came to his best friend.

eventually though, a teacher had come out on her lunch break and was quick to break up the fight and separate everyone.

andre and cal were spoken to first by one of the staff members, scolding them and letting cal know his parents would be told and that hed be getting into trouble, as well as everything else youd expect to hear.

andre had gotten told off too, but not to the extent of his friend. he used that to his advantage and convinced them to let the two of them go home early rather then staying and waiting for calvins parents to come.

somehow it worked and now they were sitting in his car, ready to leave.

cal was in the passenger seat, holding a paper towel up to his nose to catch the blood. he had already gotten it all over his shirt and didnt want to get it all over andres car. he also had a black eye and various other injuries.

andre was sitting in the drivers side and was lucky enough to have only gotten a bloody nose. it hurt like hell, but it was better then what cal had gotten. there was dried blood around said area and a couple drops had gotten on his camo t-shirt. it wasnt bleeding anymore.

it was quiet, awkwardly so. andre felt awful for having just stood there like a dumbass instead of helping his friend - it was a dick move, really.

of course though, cal is quick to break the silence and joke about it.

“whyd you just stand there, man? you looked like a dumbass,” he teased, chuckling “you let me take the whole beating, dude.” it was all lighthearted, he didnt mean any of it. it amazed him that cal could be so relaxed and calm after something like that - that he wasnt pissed at him for not helping.

“i didnt know what to do,” hes honest, face heating up from the embarrassment of it “what was i even supposed to do?” he doesnt want to look over at him, to save himself from the shame, but he does and hes met with a smile.

“im just messing with you, ‘dre. its not a big deal,” it was a big deal, it was a massive deal to him “i just didnt want to see you get your ass kicked.”

“it *is* a big deal. i shouldnt have just stood there - i shouldve helped you, or something,” he sighed, now angry at himself “now youre gonna get in deep shit with your parents and youll get grounded or something. christ, i really shouldve…”

he gets cut off by the other putting a hand on his shoulder. he always had the habit of rambling when he was nervous which was another thing he was embarrassed about.

“andre, its okay. ill be fine - how many times have i gotten grounded before? its not the end of the world.” hes always quick to reassure him though, not wanting to see him get so worked up over something so small. it was probably why they got called a slue of different slurs - he acted like he was his boyfriend.

andres shoulders drop and the tension in his body eased. he guessed he wasnt wrong, but he still felt awful for it.

“alright, fine,” he gives in, finding it hard not to when it came to his friend “im gonna take you home with me.” he knew if he dropped cal off at his house now that his own nerves and temper would get the best of him and he would argue with his parents, only earning him more of a punishment.

calvin would always justify his actions, but his parents wouldnt see eye to eye. it would just cause more of a problem.

he earned a look from cal, but gave one right back that was a silent plea for him to just agree.

“sounds good to me.” he pulls his hand away, readjusting in his seat. andre lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding in.

the brunette was like a nervous dog. he could act tough and hard on the outside, but inside he was riddled with his own anxieties and nerves. he cared too much, but it would show as apathy. he could snap and bite - react with such intensity, but other times he would freeze and act like a statue.

he got anxious about calvin constantly, but he never showed it very well. this was the best way that he couldve.

-

it took some convincing, but andres parents had let cal stay. they didnt give the full story as that wouldve ruined their chances, but just enough to convince them.

once they were there, they had taken the time to get cleaned up and changed.

andre had wiped away the blood from cals nose, all gentle and sweet, before giving him a new shirt to wear and an ice pack for his eye. cal had returned the favor by cleaning the dried blood from andres face.

it was sweet, really, and oddly intimate when they did it. they always had something special between the two of them, but they never put a label to it. they didnt feel the need to.

they were something adjacent to what people would consider boyfriends, except they were more then that. they were more then any labels could possibly convey.

it wasnt like they acknowledged it though. it was just one of those things that silently lingered in the background, seeping into any normal activities and making them homoerotic.

besides for when they made it that way themselves. they were two horny teenage boys left to their own devices, what do you expect?

that is what had led them here.

recently, andre had set up an old tv in the basement along with a couch he had gotten from cal. cals family got a new one and didnt have a use for the old one, so they told calvin to do what he wanted with it. him and andre both agreed it would be nice to have it in the basement with the tv he had set up.

they already spent plenty of time in the basement, but now it was more comfortable.

tonight, they were both sitting on the couch and watching a movie on the tv. it was what they needed after the day they had - to just relax and enjoy themselves. the movie was some dumb horror movie cal had left the last time he was here, it wasnt anything incredibly interesting.

they were much more interested in each other anyway. well, at least the tension was there.

the two were practically cuddling - they were sitting so close to each other, sides touching and limbs tangled, with at least two blankets over top of them. it was cliche, but it was cold down there.

andre had his arm over cals shoulder and cal had his head on andres chest. it was amazing they still considered themselves friends even with the acceptance that there was something more.

he looks down at him, taking note of his face. the swelling around his eye had gone down, but of course there was still bruising around it. his nose and other injuries looked a little better too. although, he cant help but take in how the tv light shone on his face, highlighting his features. he was beautiful, truly.

“is your nose feeling better?” he asked, genuinely worried for his friends health.

the other looks up at him, his soft, baby blue eyes fixing right on him. it makes him swallow hard and his face feel a little warm.

“definitely better,” he smiled warmly “you did a good job cleaning it up.” his voice was soothing and gave andre butterflies. it was embarrassing, but it was the truth.

“i did what i could,” is how he responded, he was never able to take the compliments well “i just had to wipe off the blood.”

the blonde reaches a hand up to his face, placing it on his cheek and turning his head towards him “is yours any better? they hit you pretty hard.”

he has to stare at him for a moment, blinking, before he answered a beat later “yeah, just a little sore. ill be fine.” he would be fine, but he didnt think he could handle the way cal was caring for him.

“good, i didnt want you to get hurt,” he rarely showed his care so outwardly like this, but it was very much welcomed and appreciated “those assholes are on the top of my list, i swear.” he chuckled, still bringing humor into the situation.

“yeah, me too,” andre paused, but adds “im - sorry i didnt help you. i shouldve. it was dumb of me to just stand there.” to say the guilt still wasnt there would be a lie.

“its fine, dre. like i said i just didnt want to see you get your ass kicked,” it was such a silly way of saying it, but his words were laced with something adjacent to love “i dont mind protecting you.” its a joke, nothing more then a small jab, but it gives andre yet another fluttery feeling in his chest and stomach.

“i dont need to be protected.” he takes it a little too seriously, accidentally making his feelings about it known in the process.

calvin is quick to notice, smile turning into a sly smirk “are you sure, dre?,” his hand slips from his face and instead runs down his neck, fingers curling around the column as he drags his hand down slowly to his chest “are you sure you dont like it when i protect you?”

“cal,” he warns sternly, but the light from the tv is exposing the light layer of blush on his face. he did, he liked it very much so - more then he thought, but he knows what hes trying to do “my parents are upstairs.” he reminds him, but he could easily be swayed.

“so? we can be quiet, its not that hard,” he lifts his head, sitting up straight “unless im just that good,” he grinned, snickering while andre shot him a glare “really though, we’ll be quiet.”

andre thinks on it for a moment, but he’s honestly already made uo his mind. his erection was straining against his pants and he needed the relief, plus he wanted cal.

“alright fine,” he readjusted himself, sitting at a better angle “but if it gets too loud then im done.” that was a lie. he probably wouldnt be done. hed be too far gone at that point.

“anything for you, andre.” calvin practically purrs, his hand sliding down to his pants. he was wearing sweat pants, so all he had to do was stick his hand in them and pull his cock out.

his hand wraps around the length, long fingers curling perfectly.

“god, andre, youre so hard for me,” he breathes out, slowly dragging his hand up and then back down “do you really like it that much?”

the brunettes breath catches in his throat, having to bite back a groan “shut up, you - you know what you do to me.” it comes out weak, full of shame.

“no, tell me, what do i do to you?” he looks directly at him as he speaks, eyes half lidded and focused. his hand continues to stroke him.

andre doesnt want to say it. it was humiliating to say out loud - to admit the things cal did to him and the way he made him feel.

“everything, you do everything.” its all he can really say, too stubborn to elaborate, but his friend is swiping his thumb over his tip and asking so nicely.

“cmon, be specific, please?,” he begged “i want you to tell me it all, andre. tell me how good i make you feel.” his hand speeds up a little bit, using his precum as lubricant.

he has to hold back another groan, his hand clutching onto cals shoulder. it felt amazing, he had no idea how he could make it feel so good.

“you - god, cal, dont make me say it.” he muttered, wanting to reason with him. he sounded a little irritated and frustrated with the idea, but he only pushed further.

“i *protected* you today, the least you can do is tell me.” he knows exactly what hes doing and it works. he always knew his way around him.

“you - you make me feel good,” he swallows hard, his face warming up more then it already was “really good. i like how your hand feels on me.” he did enjoy how his boney fingers felt around him and how nice his palm felt against the sensitive skin. his hand fit perfectly over him like they were made for each other.

“yeah?” he asks, speeding up.

“yeah,” it comes out shaky, continuing “youre good at it. good at this, and, what you did earlier.”

thats exactly what he wants to hear. he speeds up again, going at a mostly normal pace now.

“you liked when i beat those assholes for you? took care of them so you didnt have to?,” its all questions he already had the answers to, it was so obvious “id do it again. just for you.”

andre moaned, bucking his hips up into his hand. calvin quickly catches his lips in a kiss, muffling the noise. he pulls away for a moment, talking quietly against them “quiet, dre.” he reminds him, even though he was the one to care about it so much originally.

he groaned as he was kissed again, the stroking on his dick starting to become too much. it felt wonderful, he could feel the knot in his gut already.

however, things are halted once they hear the basement door swing open, accompanied by andres parents speaking in german.

they both quickly pull away from each other and cals hand stops mid-stroke. andre grabs the remote and pauses the movie as his mother walks down the stairs.

“andre,” his head whips around, looking over the edge of the couch to his mom who was standing at the end of the stairs “your father and i need you to help at the restaurant again tomorrow.”

the brunette is quick to nod his head “yeah, sure, mom. thats fine.” he manages to keep his voice steady and calm, as if though cals hand wasnt wrapped around his cock still.

cal though gets the smart idea to continue.

“theres some extra work that needs to be done,” his hand slowly moves again, making andre inhale sharply while his mother continued “itll take up most of the day.”

“yeah, yeah, thats fine,” his voice is strained now, shooting cal a sharp look “ill do whatever you and dad need me to do.” hes quick to agree, wanting her to leave as soon as possible - especially if cal was going to be doing this to him.

“good,” she replies, but she continues “we got a call from your school today, too. we heard what happened,” this is the last thing andre needs - he could talk to her about this later “did you get into a fight?”

he hesitates for a moment, seeing the way his friend was looking at him “no, cal did.” its all he says. he didnt think hed be able to explain properly. not like this.

her head turns to look at the blonde boy next to him “you better not be dragging andre into any trouble, cal.” she says it sternly, eyes narrowing.

calvin is unaffected while andre is struggling to keep it together.

“im not, mrs.kriegman, i promise. you have nothing to worry about,” he smiles and uses that sweet tone parents love “i was only looking out for him. protecting him if you will.” he says it with a small laugh, but he glanced over at him and grinned at the small exhale he let out.

she hummed at the answer, satisfied enough with it “good. dont bring andre into any fights.”

“mom, i can prot - ect myself.” he has to bite back a whine as cal speeds up a little. after they were done with this he was going to show him a piece of his mind.

his mother doesnt seem to notice though. she turns on her heels towards the stairs “i dont want you in any fights,” she spoke sharply, but her tone relaxes “come upstairs soon. dinners almost ready.” thats the last thing she says before shes walking back up the stairs and closing the door behind her.

andre waits a moment, then turns to cal “cal, why would you do that?,” he hissed “you know you cant-“ hes swiftly cut off by another kiss and he cant help but melt into it.

he reciprocates and its wet and messy - opening his mouth and letting cal do as he pleases. its gross, but its them. its everything he could want.

he continues to stroke him, going back to the previous pace they had before. it makes a lewd wet sound every time his hand goes up and down and its utterly intoxicating.

his thumb swipes at the tip, collecting his precum and using it on his length. he pulls away from the kiss and speaks lowly.

“cmon, dre, finish for me,” he whispered, placing a kiss to his jawline “finish all over my hand.”

“cal, fuck, fuck,” he practically whines, grabbing onto the back of his hair and pulling “shit, please, please,”

“show me how much you appreciate it, andre,” he knows exactly what hes talking about, but he continues “show me the good boy i bothered fighting for.”

that does it for him, he cums all over his hand with a choked moan - getting it all over his shirt and the blanket in the process too.

cal places a few more kisses to his jawline, laying the praise on thick “good boy, good boy, so good for me.” his hand slows to a stop, riding him out through his orgasm.

andre can barely think. his head is hazy with the afterglow, breathing heavy and trying to come down.

his grip loosens on the others hair and he steadied his breathing. he was still so high on the lust, but he still felt disgusting. he was sticky with sweat and now he had cum on him.

it was worth it.

“fuck, cal, youre amazing.” he says it in between breaths, relaxing back against the couch.

“yeah, i know,” he replied smugly, pulling his hand away from him “i just wanted to make you feel good.”

he glanced over, raising a brow “what about you? arent you hard?”

his grin returns and he knows what that look means “you have to shower after dinner, right?”

andre groaned “seriously? in the shower?” it earns a laugh from the other, but he doesnt mind. sex in the shower sounded fantastic honestly and cal knew that.

“yeah, do you not want it?” he asked, baiting him into admitting he wanted it just as much as him.

“no - yeah, i do. just…” he doesnt have a good comeback which makes the other laugh again, but he cant find it in himself to be annoyed.

“thats what i thought.”

maybe being protected wasnt so bad after all.

[velvetvexations]

I’m. So baffled by that one dude saying that trans men being able to pretend to be women is a privilege, because in his tags he says that it’s a thing specific to transmascs. Does he mean pretending to be cis as a means of safety is a transmasc specific thing?? Because uh, I’m… pretty sure that’s something that can be done regardless of a trans person’s gender? There are transfems and nonbinary people who can also pretend to be cis [whatever their agab was], too?

Its also not a privilege. Having to hide what you are out of fear isn’t a fucking privilege lmao

strangely people understand that when it's about trans women

just saw a post on my dash saying "'infighting' is a dogwhistle which frames transfems as aggressors". i really hope the tide is turning like you said, bc this shit is getting exhausting and im still seeing it from random people i follow who otherwise gave no indication that they drank the koolaid.

they make me out to be the aggressor all the time!

Nazi imagery anon here

These are the pics I was referring to.

As you can see it’s posted on the verified border security account and you can see two different nazi symbols on him :(

yeah it looks like standards for what they allow soldiers to adorn themselves with are low and the person taking and posting the pics aren't paying good enough attention because that guy also straight up has a naked anime bitch on his knife sheath

as I said this is an individual thing and they need to start knocking their heads together like the Three Stooges and sending them into trenches first

You know who saying that th**fab is actually a storied term that trans fems have been using to identify transmisogonists is fucking insane like girl that's such obvious lie give us nothing

they aren't even trying

It’s crazy how almost every other day on this site I see a new post with like 50k notes talking about how absolutely NOBODY deserves to be harassed, sent death threats or be put on blast yet once again I’m seeing people trying to justify the harassment of another transmasc teenager. Honestly people should just start openly admitting Tumblr is becoming increasingly hostile towards trans masculine individuals, I don’t see clownery on this level on any other platform-

Tumblr...is really bad.

I think the reason why this whole headcanons discourse bothers me so much is that is really is just fuelled by petty spite. Like all these characters are cisgender in canon. We make headcanons because it’s FUN to expand on characters in ways that reflect our different life experiences in whatever form that may take. Intentionally going after transmascs, especially young transmascs, for doing this with characters like they like and accusing them of all these different things genuinely does just feel like bigotry. Who cares if a head canon may not make the most amount of sense? It’s a cisgender fictional character we’re playing around with! Why does it have to be some grand act of activism to say blorbo number 3 is transmasc? We have much bigger fish to fry here.

exactly it's such dedication to not letting anyone else have anything

So sick of people acting like trans men are the same as cis men under the patriarchy and moreso im really sick of the "you're privileged to not be surrounded by men". Like, for lack of better phrasing, saying that about a group of people that is generally perceived as "failure women" pre transition (and sometimes during and post) is a little tone deaf. All about acknowledging how women and people perceived as women are harmed by misogyny until the ones perceived are men. Gender essentialism is ugly and tasteless and nonsensical. Please feel free to delete this im just rambling without a point

rambling is okay anon <3

„wow ur so privileged to not fear men”

i fear the fucking everyone asshole, i just realized that isnt everyone elses fault so i should still treat them with respect !!!!!

that woman called me a "self-hating doll" and I hate the second part a lot more than the first

[infizero-draws]

working on a concept where far in the future shadow, omega, metal sonic, and an orphaned descendant of knuckles & rouge make up a little ragtag group

misc notes:

ik rouge doesnt want to be a mom so i imagine that knuckles ending up having a kid via a surrogate and basically kinda raised it on his own. while rouge does what she wants and swings by angel island whenever. that works for them!

opal is part echidna part fox part whatever else got diluted in there over the generations

shadow wears a jewel earring that belonged to rouge in memory of her. and tho he doesnt rlly like kids he felt obligated to take care of opal when her parents died since she's technically related to rouge 👍 also he's got photos in his jacket of sonic n other ppl.

also maybe chip's bracelet that i have sonic wear in my design for him? i dont know if sonic would've directly given it to him or if would've been handed down to several ppl before making its way to shadow eventually but regardless he probably has it. i also want him to have some other specific memento of sonic but i havent decided what yet. he's keeping his memory alive tho trust

omega's a little beat up atm but it's ok they'll find someone to fix him up eventually. maybe one day shadow will learn to do it himself

currently i dont have a reason for why metal is here. but i mean she and shadow have an understanding as robotnik creations. and thus probably she and omega do as well. maybe its just after so long you stick to the few people who are still around from back then

idk. i'll figure it out. anyways THATS IT FOR NOW bye

[bridgemino]

okay, so i just really wanted to say this…kinda like a positive vent ig?

but simply being in the rcp fandom has really changed me. Having a community where I can hide and do and say the things i want to, is, to say the least, comforting. Pretty much everyone here is so sweet and kind, which really wasnt something I was used to when i first joined. I never thought that my favorite tv show as a kid would have such a loving fandom—or a fandom in general. No one I knew liked rcp, or even knew what it was. That, along with many other things, made me feel really detached from everyone else. I mean, I hyperfixate on a kid show…people thought it was weird. It wasn’t until one day, I ventured onto the internet to see if I could find really anything. When I figured out that this fandom existed, holy moly….lmao.

So many of you i’ve had positive interactions with, and I wish to have many more. Some people in this fandom I’ve barely met, but I hope we can be friends! I admire a lot of people in this fandom but I usually never know how to interact with them

I’ve met so many people because of this community, and it really made me more social in general. I’ve never really had anyone that I felt I could truly call my friend, but…. @stupidloafofbread is fucking awesome, first of all. I wanted to thank you specifically for being someone I could hang out with and simply say “hi” to. It’s weird but your like one of my only real friends and I aint gonna let that go. Happy new years, and I hope to be your friend for a while longer!! cheers 🔥🔥

Some of my biggest inspirations have been: @kidshowsarecool @lunar-rcp @polina-tvorozhok @ovakinddarling and @st3llast4rl1ght . Y’all have been the people I’ve looked up to since I got on tumblr/saw your blog. Whether it’s your writing or your art or just opinions on things even. You have been some of my biggest inspirations on here, and I appreciate you all!! Happy new years guys <3

Lastly, here are some people I just wanted to appreciate for simply existing. I appreciate you guys and I love what y’all do, even if it’s basically nothing lol. @themoldinyourlunchly @ririalww @rhunsui @darkoplayzzz @hayuki-marina @hearts--stars @anakerasuci @bulgariandeficit @eelmgee-latias @freakyrcpconfessions (idk what your main is, but yes you)@gukul @karolina-blok @not-sparrow-lol @ohmygodjahhhhhhh @veryhappyfurrydragon @vorib250 @weavingster @annintheclouds @pokoinik @stargirlie-sharon @s4uddy @petra608 @creatorfanatic @canyonkingdom @collinsahh @iwuvtallyhall @r0tt3nz @kaylamoonlight121 @straykittenidk @light-everything-in-pink @broomstownpatrol @ilikecarslol5

people outside of the rcp fandom that I feel need some love here too: @lilyflower0 @chicacherrycxla @veryhappyfurrydragon @wispcandle @graceandpurity @dog-eater822 @karmaerrors

I just wanted to mention you guys cuz your all awesome. if anyone wants their tag removed, or even added here, please let me know 💕 I tried to get everyone I could think of, so I’m really sorry if I missed you!!

Happy new years guys! Im sure we’ll all do great things in this new year. <3

[fountain-of-oceanus]

OK! WE ARE BACK WITH MORE TPOT SPECULATIONS!!

spoilers for TPOT 15 specifically!!

post-credits, there is a clip of the victims one has taken traveling this.., blue field of yellow flowers

i first want to prove that this is most likely “one’s territory,” similar to how four and two have the EXIT and elimination place respectively.

i mean, it has this space-related obelisk, for crying out loud. but WAIT there’s more!

the kidnapped contestants find The Door. the design of this door will be important later, but for now i want to focus on where it leads!

it leads to the equation playground. now, where else have we seen mysterious doors relating to an algebralien leading to the equation playground before?

in the EXIT!

which further makes me want to believe that if four has a door (haha. that rhymed) to the equation playground, then what are the odds that one ALSO has one?

but that raised another question as i was typing this out.., why DO the doors lead there?

because the equation playground is on this math planet (which is what i’ll be calling it for now) so the equation playground couldn’t be like. another universe of sorts

and its clear that’s where the algebraliens live because in tpot 15, nine showed up to host instead of two.

i cant really figure out this one, as not much has been revealed about the math planet— or the algebraliens —to even know how these doors just magically lead there.

but TL;DR, the flower field in the post-credits scene has got to be related to one in some way, maybe an extension of her little deal-making room!

secondly, i now want to talk about The Door. take note of these diamond symbols on it

now, it could all just be coincidence, but it’s weird that this isn’t the first time we’ve seen diamonds related to algebraliens..,

these diamond symbols also appear around one and two’s little camera-powers!

there is also a diamond-shaped magnet holding up four’s fridge photo here. at first i assumed it was just because it has four sides and four angles, like four, but im starting to kinda doubt myself

i feel like these might represent some kind of power??? perchance??? they wouldn’t have just made these diamond symbols so prevalent for nothing.

this is less of a theory and more of an assumption, but I believe the diamond symbols are connected to algebralien powers in some way.

anyway thats all for now . this a really stupid tangent i needed to go on but i think it’s going somewhere!!!

[secriden]

Going legitimately insane because all my brain has been able to chew on has been this particular callback and what it means for the headspace that Fadel is in at the end of episode 6.

Because Fadel starts the episode with his walls so utterly dismantled that he is able to verbally admit this desire to Bison (and, more importantly, himself) out loud . . . only to end the episode brokenheartedly discarding that dream as he instead offers to fashion himself into what he (thinks) Style wants, not knowing that he is already everything that Style has come to desire.

It's insane that Fadel even said that to Bison in the first place because the Fadel of episode 5 knew better than to believe it was possible for anyone to truly bare themselves to another person, knew better than to want to know and be known and chosen despite it all. To the Fadel of episode 5, "laying yourself bare" was an impossibility because of how much power it gives the other person, and Fadel's mind is too practical, his circumstances too complex, his heart too fragile to ever give that to anyone ever again.

But Fadel's walls began to crack in the face of Style's honesty and the shared pain of knowing what it is to loose someone precious; shuddered under the weight of Style pressing kisses to his scar and laying Fadel bare to bring him pleasure; shattered in the face of Style giving himself over to loving Fadel for a whole night and the morning after -- and Fadel woke up half underneath the spread of Style's body and found himself already in love.

And do you know how I know this? Because of all the things Fadel could have said he liked about Style, he chooses this. It's not that Style is effortlessly kind and thoughtlessly generous at times. It's not that Style is hot and sexy and frankly kind of a slut (specifically for Fadel). It's not even that Style has secret, hidden depths and an unexpectedly shared pain which allows him to understand and empathise with Fadel in a way that no one but Bison has been able to for a very long time.

No, it's his cockiness. His arrogance. The way Style is unabashedly himself and makes no apologies for it. The way Style will literally dance to his own tune and sing at the top of his lungs with no care for anyone else's opinion unless it's to appreciate it. The way Style walks into the room and has the confidence to put his body on display and already know that he will be welcomed and wanted; and the way he assumed Fadel would find him attractive (correct), and moreover would not stop until Fadel eventually gave in to that attraction (which, as it turns out, also correct).

It's telling that it's these specific instances that come to mind when Fadel thinks about Style's lips. There are so many scenes and shots they could have chosen (because lbr here Dunk, and therefore Style, really does have amazing lips), so it feels very intentional that Fadel thinks firstly of the time Style refused to back off when Fadel pretended not to miss him, and then the moment when Fadel finally admitted that he did and was rewarded with Style's reassurance and reciprocated vulnerability and wholehearted embrace. Also, because this was the last episode that Style did not Know, and therefore was still being fully honest with Fadel. Both instances are Fadel appreciating in hindsight the way Style's very nature -- the way he would not give up, the way he keeps pushing and pushing even in the face of Fadel's seeming impassivity -- gives Fadel not only the opportunity but the impetus to finally let go of his control and acknowledge his feelings for Style.

It's explicit confirmation that Fadel enjoys and appreciates and has grown to love Style's personality and antics and the way he expresses himself.

So the Fadel in episode 6 dares to ask for Style's honesty and gives with it an explicit promise of trust and acceptance in return. After recognising the effort Style has had to put in to find ways to connect with Fadel (heavy metal vs pop rock), he now asks for Style to be real with him because Fadel understands himself to be ready to love, and in loving Style, is able to offer the very thing he wants the most from Style: acceptance of who Style is.

We also see the evidence of Fadel's unspoken promise in the way that he now responds with an almost easy openness to Style's questions in stark contrast to the Fadel in the early part of the show. Now, he gives Style pieces of himself with barely a thought, and lets Style use them to push and prod and drag to light the very things he used to keep hidden because he thought they weren't useful or helpful or worthy of being loved (see @sherrymagic's gorgeous gifset + my tags on it).

It's also in the way he now allows Style to take him outside of his comfort zone because he trusts that the private joys he's kept to himself are safe in Style's hands; that, moreover, Style will look to Fadel's happiness and not make a mockery of it.

I'm obsessed with the moment in the screenshot on the bottom right because Fadel looks so completely out of his element and almost in a state of shock. He's literally standing separated from the rest of the group in the composition of the shot, hesitation writ in every line of his body, while Style, who isn't even a fan of this band or this music, fits in with the band seamlessly.

But this isn't because of discomfort, it's nervousness and an almost joyous disbelief because Fadel could never have done this on his own, he would never have allowed himself the indulgence of actually showing his love for his favourite band if Style hadn't taken the initiative to drag him there and ask for the photo. And, oh, how wonderful it must have felt to see Style prove his own words by being right there by Fadel's side as he lets himself go, as he lets himself be himself without fear, for the first time in what must have felt like forever.

In a single, perfect night, Style has been exactly, precisely, breathtakingly everything Fadel could ever have wanted; because in a single night of Fadel finally having the courage to bare himself to another person, Style gave Fadel not only acceptance but a celebration of who Fadel is. With everything Style does that night, he ties himself to Fadel, ties his happiness to Fadel's and his comfort to the warmth of Fadel's embrace. Style fashioned himself into exactly what Fadel wanted -- and now that Fadel has had a taste of it, how can he possibly go back?

Which is why Fadel already knows that it's too late for him, he knows that he is already in love; knows, moreover, that he has rewritten parts of himself to love and miss and yearn for Style; has even learned to love Style the way he understands Style wants to be loved.

So Fadel might as well keep the promise he made to Style with his lips pressed shut against the lies he didn't want to keep telling Style. He might as well give Style more days and nights and chances to spin his lies, because at least Fadel has the meager comfort of knowing he spoke the truth.

Because if Style wants to keep playing this game, if Style is able to so be so convincingly deceptive that Fadel can no longer trust himself to tell when Style is lying, then Fadel will take the punishment of choosing honesty in the face of his betrayal. Fadel will pay the price of daring to chase after the impossible. Fadel will fashion himself into a heartless tool and allow himself the indulgence of playing this tantalising part -- because he may just find a way to save Bison in the process.

And to Fadel, it does not matter if his own heart gets broken along the way, because Fadel deserves the punishment of laying himself bare to the man who does not love him in return; he deserves to give Style the power of knowing the hold he has over Fadel.

But doing so is a punishment for Style, too, because if Fadel must love, then he is going to weaponise his own feelings in the fight he now thinks he has to wage against Style. Because two can play this game of cruelty, and Fadel has decided that he will pour himself out on the alter of Style's deception if it means that Style might just end up caught in the web of his own making. And Fadel does not care if this sword is double edged because cutting himself to pieces is a small price to pay if it means dragging Style along with him into hell.

After all, what's another crack when his whole entire world has already been so utterly and completely shattered?

[upthewitchypunx]

I was trying to run away from wiccan books because I didn't vibe with the whole god/goddess idea so I read a book marketed as "traditional witchcraft" called the crooked path.

but then the book is talking about a witchfather and a witchmother! (or something like that)

and it feels a little too similar of the wiccan god - goddess.

So I do some research and I found out the "traditional witchcraft" was originated by this guy Robert Cochrane who allegedly just took some of the Gardner stuff and changed to his liking. Them claimed it was from his family old lineage of witches.

I feel like It's so hard to find anything trustworthy about witchcraft

I saw this come in last night and it annoyed me because it was so simplistic, so I thought I would leave it for the morning. 

First, I have no idea about what you mean when you say "trust worthy"  information. It's all real, someone gained the knowledge from somewhere and it is real to them. Whether or not you believe it is irrelevant to the "trustworthy" or "real-ness". Gnosis is gnosis.

Second, traditional witchcraft is more of an umbrella term. It's not a specific practice. You've got your cunning folk, folk magic practitioners, maybe you include sabbatic witchcraft there, or a variety of animistic location based practices. It's not one practice. Sometimes at the base I think people were drawn to it because "it's not Wicca" or specifically, because has nothing to do with Gardener. Just because a religion is duotheistic though, doesn't mean it's Wicca.

Cochrane didn't just take from Gardener, he studied with Gardener and was initiates into Wicca. But Gardener stole from Crowley, (then Valiente had to fix it) They were all stealing from each other and Golden Dawn shit.  All those occultist types and early witches were trying to prove their legitimacy by how long their lineage was whether if they said their family was witches or they learned from some coven somewhere that claimed to be a unbroken line ...blah blah blah. Margaret Fucking Murray and her great witch cult hypotheses is why we can't have nice things.

Anyway, Cochrane studied with Gardener and they had a falling out so he started his own deal which is the Clan of Tubal Cain, based on the name of first blacksmith in the Bible and having a bit of biblical cosmology to the mix, which tends to squick out some folks who never dealt with their personal religious Christian trauma. It's generally a magico religious tradition, which Wicca is too, but they say it's not the same so we are just gonna respect that. (Pretty interesting that Doreen Valiente had he magical hands in that soup too, eh?)

Reading books and studying witchcraft practices doesn't mean you have to follow them, but I think it is important to know the history and where certain practices fit of for nothing else than to understand where you fit and what you are and are no interested in your practice.

It's really not hard to find "trustworthy" history of witchcraft and magic. Once you know the history it makes individual interpretations make more sense.

And finally, here's a link to Something Kelden, the author of The Crooked Path, had to say about the Witch Father/Witch Mother as archetypal and how it is not intended to be informing gender binary or even necessary in traditional witchcraft at all if it doesn't work for you.

[no-gorms]

Bit of a thought exercise with this one! (also on ao3)

Steve/Tony, established friends-with-benefits that stays that way, no romance but... something else?

It’s not that late, so Steve is still awake when Tony finally decides to come to bed. Lately Steve’s been reading before going to sleep, and today he’s managed to get through fourteen pages before Tony crawls under the covers and reaches for him, a sneaky pair of hands copping a feel through Steve’s shirt.

“Tony,” Steve says.

“Oh, someone’s had a day,” Tony says wryly. “What’s up?”

Steve puts the bookmark in place and sets the book aside. “Don’t you think this is… ridiculous?”

“Specificity is your friend.”

“Me and you. This.” Steve feels the frown settle on his face, not that that’s ever been able to deter Tony significantly. Steve carefully pulls Tony’s hand out from where he’s been trying to get past the waistband of his shorts, though he does give Tony a kiss – quick but filthy enough to make Tony hum hopefully.

“Sure,” Tony says, licking his lips once Steve’s drawn back. “If you want to call that ridiculous, by all means.”

“Should we get married?” Steve asks.

There’s a half-second of uncomprehending silence, and then Tony flings himself backwards with a shriek, falling away from Steve and almost tumbling off the bed completely if Steve’s reflexes weren’t fast enough to catch Tony’s knee before he goes over. Steve pulls Tony back into place, and returns Tony’s perfectly understandable grimace with as much dignity as he can muster.

“Take another shot at me, why don’t you,” Tony says. “The Accords weren’t enough for you?”

“Just think about it properly for a minute,” Steve says. “And don’t bring up the Accords in bed. We agreed.”

“I doubt that agreement counts if you’re gonna bring up marriage, what the fuck. This is just sex! We agreed it’s just sex, and we’re not even exclusive.”

“We did shake on that, sure,” Steve says, “but when’s the last time you slept with someone who isn’t me?”

Tony’s mouth hangs open for a moment. “You’re… right here, so… it’s… easier?”

“Plus the sex has been very good.”

“Wow, you can bounce a coin off that ego of yours.”

“Tony, focus.” Steve sees Tony’s mouth open on another derailing statement and, accustomed to this, barrels on with, “We have sex regularly, but we also live together. Yes, we keep our own separate living spaces, but that’s just good sense. We have had each other’s backs through some of the worst moments of our lives. We are the last of the original Avengers who are still doing this full time and because of that rely on each other more than we ever have before.”

“That’s just inertia.”

“This morning you sat with me for an hour while I was working out because you wanted to tell me about that quantum processor which you know I barely understand the science of.”

“Because you’re a good listener,” Tony says defensively.

“And you, as strange as it may sound, have provided me with structure and purpose,” Steve says. “The fact is, that we’ve been doing this for long enough—”

“No, it hasn’t,” Tony scoffs. “We only… after the… it was when the…”

Steve looks at him patiently. He’s had a whole day and then some to process the fact that now rattling around Tony’s skull, so he understands the shock and dismay that’s rising on Tony’s face. Time just flies, and it’s not like they meant for what should’ve been a simple matter of blowing off steam to evolve into a form of domesticity that has just the slightest veneer of plausible deniability. Sure, this is all just about Avengers business, and keeping the team together, and protecting the planet, etc. etc.

Pretty sure that protecting the planet has nothing to do with how Steve can and has gone to Tony who’d held him silently whenever Steve got upset when thinking about the past, or how Tony has admitted to Steve under the cover of night his deepest fears of failure and paranoia about his own mind.

“It’s been almost three years,” Tony says distantly. “This is the longest relationship I’ve ever had, and it’s not even a proper relationship.”

“Yes, so marriage will provide some new benefits—”

“But… I don’t love you.”

“So what? I don’t love you either,” Steve says with a shrug. “But it’s not like I care about looking for anything else. I trust you, I’m comfortable with you. I think you’re great to spend time with, and I know I can always turn to you with a problem. I like you, Tony, and maybe that’s all it needs to be.”

“You’d be fine spending the rest of your life with me?” Tony says dubiously.

“Of course,” Steve says. “And if we’re married we can’t testify against each other, and you’ll have certain spousal rights – I especially want to talk about what’ll happen to my body if I die before you, because Ross has been making some noise about how much of my blood is US property—”

“Oh,” Tony says, a sudden small smile tugging at his mouth, “that’s what got you thinking about this.”

“Among other things. I do care about you a great deal, though. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Tony sighs. “Ditto, unfortunately.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Steve grins when Tony snorts in surprise. “You don’t have to answer now. Take some time to think about it—”

“Weddings are not my scene.” Tony scrunches his face. “I don’t think?”

“We can just go to court and get the papers signed. In and out, efficient. If you’re interested, that is.”

Tony stares at Steve dubiously. But he’s also clearly thinking about it, and seems to be offended at himself for taking it seriously.

“It will stop – or at least slow down – people making passes at you,” Tony says thoughtfully. “That really annoys you.”

“That’s a much smaller reason for it, but sure.” Steve considers. “Are you completely distracted now, or do you still want to fool around? I know you can multitask.”

Tony startles, then laughs. “Yeah, I can do that. C’mere.” He grabs the back of Steve’s neck and Steve goes easily, tipping them over into the mattress with Tony warm and pliant underneath him.

Steve has no doubt that Tony will have a full list of pros and cons by tomorrow that they’ll debate over breakfast and likely lunch and maybe dinner, though no matter what Tony decides, it’ll be the right choice.

[psychoticallykind]

Chili

"Setback" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 787 words

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

Regulus took a deep breath. It would be fine. He'd be fine. James would be fine with this.

Maybe.

"Are you going to call him?"

Regulus shot a look at Remus. "Yes. Obviously I'm going to call him."

There was a minute of silence between them. Remus shifted. "Before he comes home, or...?"

"You can call him," Regulus offered, his tone sickly sweet. "If you're so eager."

"I'm not the one who poisoned the chili," Remus replied. He shrugged. "That was all you, Reg."

"I thought the lid was on!" Regulus argued. He sighed, giving the large pot of chili a long look. "Maybe it'll be fine."

Remus's eyebrows shot up. "I'm not eating that, and neither is Sirius."

"He will if you don't tell him."

Remus gave him an unimpressed look. "And you're seriously willing to poison James if it means you don't have to admit you screwed up?"

"Maybe," Regulus lied.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Right. You need to call him before he gets home, or he won't be able to help make new plans."

"Maybe we can just make the plans and surprise him," Regulus tried.

"Regulus."

Regulus didn't look at Remus's expression. He didn't need to. "Yeah, I know. I'm doing it, I'm doing it."

He held his breath as the phone rang, hoping for the first time in their relationship that James wouldn't pick up.

"Hello, love. Is everything okay?"

Regulus forced a smile. "Of course, Jamie. How's your day going?"

Remus snorted. Regulus stuck his tongue out, leaving the kitchen and heading into the bedroom.

"It's alright. How's yours? Did Remus end up coming over?"

"Uh, yeah, he did," Regulus replied. He took a deep breath. "Jamie?"

"Yes?"

"I sort of did something," he admitted. "Uh, something not great."

"Okay?" James said. "Reg, love, you're going to have to be a little more specific here."

Regulus nodded. Please don't be mad. "You know how everyone is coming over for dinner?"

A slight pause. "Yes?"

"And...you know how you spent an insanely long time last night making the chili everyone likes, and you left it in the pot today to cook?"

"Yes?"

"Right," Regulus nodded. "So. Um. About the chili, see." He searched for the words, not quite willing to say, 'I poisoned it'.

"Did you forget to stir it?" James asked. "Because that's fine, Reg, it'll still be good."

"Uh, no," Regulus denied. "Not that. I mean, I stirred it."

"Okay." James waited a few seconds, but when Regulus couldn't bring himself to say it, he continued. "Reg, love. What happened to the chili?"

Regulus closed his eyes. "There was a spider?"

"In the chili?"

"No! On the counter," Regulus explained. "And I - I sprayed it. With the poison spray. As it ran." He cleared his throat. "Uh, as it ran around the general area of the chili that I sort of left the lid off of when I stirred it. So a lot of the spider-poison went in the chili. I - Jamie, I poisoned dinner."

"You...poisoned dinner?"

Regulus nodded, heart pounding. "Please don't yell at me."

"What?" James sounded confused. "Regulus, I'm not going to yell at you. Are you okay?"

"You're not mad?" Regulus checked. "James, I ruined dinner."

"I can pick something up, it'll be fine," James replied. "This is just a setback, yeah? A change of plans."

"But - but I -"

"You killed a spider. Some of the spray got in the chili. It was an accident, love, they happen sometimes."

Regulus nodded, blowing out a long breath. "You're not mad."

"I'm not mad," James confirmed. "It's okay."

"I really didn't mean to," Regulus told him. "I promise. I didn't - I should have put the lid on, and I know you asked me not to use the spray in the kitchen and I should have listened, I'm sorry -"

"Regulus," James interrupted. "It's okay. The chili doesn't matter, we can order something else. I know it was an accident. I'm not upset. It's okay."

Regulus nodded again, blinking back tears. "You're sure?"

"I promise, love," James reassured him. "I'm about five minutes away. I'll come in and we can order something, yeah? Anything you want."

"Okay." Regulus sat down on the bed, taking a deep breath. James wasn't mad. It was okay. "I love you."

"I love you, Regulus. I'll see you in just a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

Regulus said goodbye before hanging up, falling back against the duvet.

He was okay. Accidents happened, and James wasn't mad. James still loved him. It was hard to remember that, sometimes. That James would still love him.

It was hard, and sometimes he forgot. But Regulus was learning.

Day by day, he was learning what it meant to be loved.

[whysosincere]

Chapter 7

"You don't actually believe in this stuff, do you?"

"It's my boss's job to believe or not believe, I'm just here to give him information."

"You know what I mean."

Y/N shrugged off the COS's question and continued reviewing her notes prior to the briefing. Word had it an important Commander from the newly created Joint Force Command would be attending. And it was true, the reporting that had begun pouring in since the previous day indeed beggared belief, but to begin making claims one way or another as to the efficacy of the ground troops caught in what was described as a "Demon fuck-fest from Hell" would not have been considered professional.

"Come on!" COS had gestured to a half-blurred image of what appeared to be a lizard ninja, and another of… what could only be described as a 4-armed tiger-man. "There's no way those are real."

Y/N looked upon the reporting with an even expression and then responded, "They were real enough for Officer Stryker to submit this report."

"Guy's a kook," he commented, specifically referring to the Revelations chapter included in his write-up: And I looked, and beheld a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

And this is precisely why Y/N didn't want to give her honest-to-goodness on the situation. Truth be told, she was in full agreement with this "Kurtis Stryker" fellow, wherever he hailed from. Devils had been turned loose upon the Earth, and she had a feeling it was only a matter of time before the sun blacked out, the seas turned to blood, and Gabriel began his warm-ups.

"Ready Attention…"

Y/N along with everyone else in the room ended their sidebars and put away their notepads.

"Attention!"

Members of the military are expected to show proper bearing when superior officers entered the room, but the rapt silence and intensity of the crowd's perfect attentive posture were not to be attributed to this reason exclusively. Instead, all eyes locked on, and followed, the person that was being directly addressed and led by the Admiral.

So this was the new Joint Commander… They were wearing the strangest garb that any sailor had ever seen within those secure facility walls.

This man was large, well over a foot above their own commander, who was already known for being one of the tallest officers on base. Clad completely in white and blue with a few gold fineries and black lacquered accoutrements. He also was the only person in the room still wearing his cover, a Chinese coolie affair that seemed to be made out of genuine straw. Y/N noted that the Chinese characters "雷" and "電" bedecked his shoulders. But strangest of all were the man's eyes; stark white with no visible pupil, instead they seemed to glow from within.

"If you please, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Admiral." Y/N nodded, turning to the guest Commander, "And Commander…"

"Lord Raiden, god of thunder and Protector of Earthrealm."

"Lord Raiden."

"Lord Raiden…"

"…Lord Raiden!?"

Y/N bolted upright with a shock, the image of Lord Raiden clear as day in her mind as she recalled that event so many years prior. With a keen, and a groan, body still bearing the injuries from her ordeal on Shang Tsung's island, she settled back into the futon, only able to glean a cursory observation of her surroundings before sleep once again claimed her.

Soon she would realize this was decidedly not her hotel room, nor was she even in her own night clothes. Everything smelled of stone earth, the damp of cave water, and a general sandalwood incense that seemed ubiquitous, as if part of the very atmosphere of the quarters.

Elsewhere in the Temple of the Elements, one of the monks informed Fujin of her brief awakening, and while he looked relieved, there was a grave expression that would not leave his features.

Having ensured she had at least survived the night, Fujin then allowed himself to depart as a dissipating gale, for Sky Temple. Upon coalescing there, he was met with the infuriating calm of his brother mid-meditation atop the Temple's highest floor; the outdoor kombat arena.

"Y/N has awakened, no thanks to you."

Raiden did not respond, and to all external observation, seemed not to even hear Fujin's accusation. But he had, and Fujin knew it.

"What have you to say for yourself, brother? Why continue this farce when your heart even now thrums faster at the mention of her name?"

Raiden's eyebrow twitched, but he remained adamantly still and silent.

"The shapeshifter's words are poison! You know this and yet you allow his command to dictate your very spirit! Tell me I was not hewn from the same body as one so cowardly-"

In a flash Raiden was delivering a flurry of palm strikes, each parried easily by the wind god, who returned with his own volley of savage blows.

"A nerve is struck! You cannot deny the truth of your heart, brother-"

"Be SILENT!"

Each deity representing the greatest aspects of the storm matched the other strike for strike, blow for blow, such that every student, monk, and caretaker in Sky Temple gathered to observe this incredible display atop the lofty structure.

The winds whipped and howled their accusations, and the lightning rebuked each in turn with furious light and sound. A mighty storm roiled and rumbled atop the temple structure, torrential rains raking in sheets along the kombat ring's surface.

"You would have left her to die on that forsaken island just to spite Shang Tsung's accusations!"

This insult, Raiden refused to abide, and with newfound strength he caught Fujin by surprise, lightning sparking with each core strike that landed in succession, until Raiden's staff thrice struck him and smote him upon the floor, pressing with distinct warning against Fujin's throat.

"Once again, you must learn your place, brother…" Raiden growled, and for the first time since his arrival, Fujin did not spit in defiant tones. Instead, his expression was one of genuine shock, which then turned to empathetic pain.

"You knew I would not abandon her…!"

Raiden allowed his staff to disappear into motes of light as he turned from Fujin.

"Then why, brother? Why not go to her now? She rests within the Temple of the Elements as we stand here bickering!"

"Is this all the great Fujin is capable of? Have you regressed to childhood once more? Teasing and mocking your superiors with your bag of winds in hand?"

"I am simply begging you to see reason, brother-"

"Reason!?" Raiden rounded on Fujin with renewed fury in his eyes, this time, directed inwards.

"Had reason touched my thoughts months ago, she never would have been taken! Had I acted reasonably, Shang Tsung would be a smoking mote of ash upon the stones of his Well of Souls! Reason has come far too late, Fujin. And in its absence, I have allowed our greatest enemy an open door through Earthrealm's defenses. I never should have allowed the life of a single mortal to eclipse the safety of the realm!"

Fujin watched sorrowfully as his brothers fists trembled at his side, his shoulders hunched in frustration, and his voice shook with rage.

"You misunderstand, Fujin… Reason is what brought me to this conclusion. It is what has bound my heart… And I… am powerless against it…"

~

Deep within the bowels of Quan Chi's Netherrealm fortress, dark incantations seeped from the very walls. A spell of such insidious deception was being conjured that even the sorcerer's most loyal servants were made to feel unsure of their own quarter.

As Quan Chi's words echoed with dark purpose, his red eyes remained dutifully closed while billowing green and purple magics emanated from his fingertips with each deliberate gesture and sweeping hand-symbol. In a pillar of black obsidian before him, Y/N's sleeping form slowly began to coalesce.

And as he concluded, his red eyes snapping open with his final uttered phrase, so too did Y/N's.

Leverage - MK11 Self Insert Fiction

Lord Raiden, god of thunder and protector of Earthrealm, has betrayed a fatal weakness; one that the nefarious sorcerer Shang Tsung seeks to capitalize upon. A self-insert fic inspired by Mortal Kombat 11 featuring Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa as Shang Tsung, and Todd Dakins/Richard Epcar as Lord Raiden.

Characters: Lord Raiden (MK11), Shang Tsung (MK11), Female OC/Self-Insert

Chapter 1: Evening in Nara

It is late afternoon in the ancient Japanese capital of Nara when the clouds begin rolling in. There's a distant rumble of thunder, and in a secluded alley, far from the ancient temples of Todai-ji and Nigatsu-do, a lone tourist walks the stone pathways. It is Y/N, and she has just completed meditation among the blooming irises of one of Nara's oldest public gardens. As the first drops of rain begin to dampen her clothes, she quickens her pace, knowing her hotel is still a decent distance away.

Unbothered by the approaching rain, she smiles briefly at the rumbling storm clouds as one might an old friend. The supple curve of her neck and tilt of her jaw from this motion do not go unnoticed. Unbeknownst to Y/N, numerous eyes had been keeping her in their sights since her arrival. She continued on her way, heedless of the danger that had begun brewing in the shadows of the city, and ignorant of the observations of an old acquaintance.

It is said that the crack and roll of thunder is caused by the beating of numerous taiko drums in the heavens; an invocation and performance by the thunder god himself. He held many names: Indra, Zeus, and Taranis were just a few from across the globe. The Japanese had bestowed the titles of Kaminari, Raijin, and during this degenerate age, many had come to know him as Raiden. In truth, this storm was not his performance, but instead the subconscious apprehension of his heart, given form and sound in the roiling clouds that swept over the mountain peaks.

The thunder deity had been watching Y/N from afar, his eyes filled with an intensity that the approaching storm could not match. His eyes flash, and his grimace intensifies as he watches the woman weave around the primitive utility poles and take advantage of the rain-blocking eaves along her path. He knew her from his brief tenure with the American military during Outworld's previous invasion attempt. While he hadn't worked directly with her, her very presence had impressed him. The unmistakable aura of valor and courage that all of his Order of Light shared, had manifested in her. Though to him, this event seemed as recent as one might consider the life of a single stick of burning incense, Raiden knew for a mortal, it must've seemed ages past. This is why he had cautioned his brother so sincerely against involvement with mortal lives – The spark of interest she had kindled had left an indelible mark on his soul, but time had slipped effortlessly away without him realizing.

When it had come to blows, Fujin had rightfully pointed out his hypocrisy – Liu Kang and Kung Lao may as well have been his children the way that he lavished them with attention. That attention stretched time for him, slowing what should have been a moment, into years of training, camaraderie, and perhaps something akin to paternal love – at least that's what Fujin had alleged through a furious gale of blades. Raiden had called him a fool. In truth, he had been fighting with himself – his brother Fujin simply caught in the conflict. For especially now, such a title rightfully belonged to him.

The sight of her brought him back to that tumultuous argument. His heart ached at the memory, and his hands of flesh and bone tightened into fists. Originally created for the purpose of participating in Mortal Kombat, he had not intended this human body of his to remain for as long as it had. This body of his was simply a tool, he had lied. One that he would discard as soon as its usefulness had expired. That is what he had told himself lifetimes ago… Now this heart of his beat faster as he observed the scene below, his eyes never leaving Y/N's graceful form as she moved through the city.

One other gaze observed these motions with equal intensity, but unlike the distracted attentions of Lord Raiden, this stalking creature was fully aware that his quarry was under careful scrutiny. If he acted without proper caution, the game would be up before it had even begun.

The sorcerer Shang Tsung was never without his contingencies. Never found lacking in ways to slip the grasps of fate. And now as he enjoyed an extended reprieve from the beckoning of his master Shao Kahn, and the incessant meddling of Earthrealm's champion Liu Kang, he had detected an amusing inflection in the humors of the skies. One that, should he apply proper leverage to, might remove the most vexing of obstacles from his plans. Lord Raiden had fallen victim to his own hubris: He was in love.