#and there are people in college who don’t have the skills but they want that degree anyway

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[intobarbarians]

i tried a lot of degree programs before i finally got my english degree. if i had stuck to biology, i would probably know more about biology now than i do. but! i wouldn’t know THAT much more.

[steddieas-shegoes]

for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*

Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.

And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.

And a few of them were also hot.

But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!

He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.

“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”

Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.

The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.

Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.

Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.

Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.

But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.

So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.

Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.

He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.

He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.

“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.

A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.

“What?” He hissed out.

“Do you understand this?”

“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”

Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ��I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.

“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.

Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.

“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”

“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.

“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”

Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.

“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”

Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.

“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.

“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”

“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”

Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”

“So you aren’t a natural at French?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”

“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.

“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.

Eddie kinda liked that.

“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”

Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.

“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.

By Steve Harrington.

“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”

Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.

“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”

Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.

Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required

When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.

Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.

Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.

Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉

Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.

And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.

He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.

Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.

[mxauthor]

Not Of The Imagination

Summary: Spencer claims he has a girlfriend. Derek does not believe him at all.

Word Count: 1,614

Warnings: fluff, a bit OOC Derek

Derek Morgan is a ladies man. He knows how to talk to women, charm them into a flustered mess and get a number from them with ease. His charm is a weapon, something he knows how to use better than his gun. 

Spencer Reid is not a ladies man. He rambles people away and becomes flustered so easily that people think his skin tone is red. 

Derek Morgan is a charmer. Spencer Reid is the charmed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday afternoon. Everyone was ready to go home and spend the weekend doing whatever they wanted. Weekend plans were the topic of conversation at the moment with the bullpen attendees.

“So pretty boy, where are you doing this weekend?” Morgan asked. A teasing smile playing on his lips. Derek Morgan wasn’t a bully. He was anything but a bully, however, he was a brother. And brothers are known to tease their little siblings to no end. And Spencer was lucky enough to become Derek’s little brother. 

 “There’s this Korean Film festival happening throughout the next week. All foods, music and movies will be played in korean. Which is exciting since my girlfriend had wanted to brush up on her language skills and I thought this would be a great surprise for her.” Spencer missed the look of surprise on his friends faces when the word ‘girlfriend’ had left his mouth. Especially Morgan’s face. 

“Girlfriend?” Emily questioned softly. She was still a bit new to the team, but this was the first time a girlfriend was mentioned, especially attached to Spencer’s name.

“Wait what! Spencer, you have a girlfriend?” Derek questioned in disbelief. It’s not like he didn’t think that Spencer couldn’t get a girlfriend, but it’s still a complete shock that the shy, can’t talk to college kids his age, stuttering mess actually has a girlfriend. 

“Yeah, Her name’s Y/n. We’ve actually been dating for about 3 years now.” The goofy grin that broke out onto Spencer’s face was convincing enough for the women. But apparently not enough for Derek. 

“Really?” Spencer could hear the disbelief in Derek’s voice. He knew that the proclaimed ladies man, didn’t believe that he ‘scored’. But Spencer really didn’t care if he believed him or not. 

He still had you at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered to him. 

“Okay, what’s her last name?” Morgan asked.

“L/n.” Spencer answered without hesitation. He had a feeling that some of the asked questions are going to be the same that his mother asked him when he confessed that he was seeing someone. 

Derek nodded, trying to look convinced. “What’s her-” 

Before he even had the chance to finish his next question Spencer beat him to it. “She’s working as a barista at the moment because she’s going back to school to be a teacher. We met when we were 20 and started dating at 22. She’s kind and patient. She also really loves me and we are talking about moving in together after she graduates with her masters.” 

The small group was stunned at the flood of information. Emily, JJ and Penelope all began gushing about his girlfriend, happy that their resident genius had found someone that is making him happy. 

Derek, happy for his brother, still didn’t believe him. The girl sounded perfect for him, too perfect. Almost like he had conjured her up. 

“Do you have a picture of her?” Penelope was the first to ask. 

“No, sadly. All the pictures we have together are taken on her phone and they don’t transfer well when she sends them to me.” Spencer explained. The women deflated a bit hearing his explanation. 

“How convenient.” Morgan muttered. Penelope was the one who heard him. She snapped her head in his direction, fixing him with a glare. Derek only held his hands up in mock surrender. 

The group slowly began to disperse when paperwork began to pile up on each of their respective desks. The new shift of conversation began to fizzle out. Everyone now began to focus on the important work ahead of them before they could go home at 6. 

Except for Derek Morgan. The new revelation, still fresh in his brain. The Spencer Reid, the boy genius that stutters when given a simple compliment, has a girlfriend.

He has to see it to believe it at that point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derek didn’t get his confirmation until 3 months later. When he had almost forgotten that Spencer had claimed he had a girlfriend. 

A beautiful h/c had walked into the bullpen with a visitor badge clipped to her turtleneck sweater. She had a drink carrier in on hand and a plastic bag in the other. 

She stood near the glass doors, clearly looking for someone. A small frown appeared on her lips as the object of her delivery seemed to not be in the room. 

Morgan saw the contemplation on her face whether she was on the right floor or not. She took a step back towards the double glass doors, before Derek got up to give a helping hand. 

He calmly approached the pretty woman before calling out to her, “Excuse me miss, is there something you need help with.” 

The h/c turned at his voice, Derek could see slight recognition within her eyes. A small smile graced her lips before she spoke, “You must be Derek Morgan.” 

The named man furrowed his eyebrows. He had never met this woman before in his life, even if he had Derek would’ve remembered her face. 

The woman saw the confusion on his face as well as the slight guard he put up after she said his name. The h/c’s realization kicked in and her panic set in. “Oh no, I’m not dangerous. My boyfriend had told me a lot about you. Even showed me a photo of you. Well not of you but a group picture and pointed you out. And I’ve always been good at remembering faces. So when I saw you I just knew that you were Derek Morgan. Again I’m not dangerous.” 

Her lengthy explanation reminded him of the resident genius that was approaching the two of them. 

Spencer was very confused when he saw Derek Morgan speaking with his girlfriend of 3 years. He was even more confused when he saw her panicked expression and the slight wave of her hands as she tried to explain something. 

Spencer pulled open the glass doors to the bullpen and turned towards the interesting conversation that was happening. He didn’t get much of it, just the last bit where Y/n said ‘I’m not dangerous’. 

“What’s going on here?” The brunette male asked. He looked between his favorite people waiting for one of them to answer. 

“Oh, hello love. I was just coming over to see if you wanted to have lunch with me. I had a half day at work for class but then my professor canceled class last minute because he wasn’t feeling well.” Y/n had gestured to the food in her arms at the mention of lunch. 

She had swung by their favorite Thai place. Having not been there for a few weeks because of Spencer’s busy schedule and Y/n’s guilt for eating it without him. Spencer smiled widely at the offer of food and his lover for his break. 

“I’d love to honey. We can eat at my desk if you’d like.” Spencer offered. Grabbing the drinks from her to make the load easier to carry. 

Derek watched the exchange between them. Only putting everything together when you call Spencer ‘love’. 

“Holy shit she’s real.” He had meant to say it in his head. But the statement slipped out, causing the two of you to look at him with confusion. 

“You didn’t think she was real?” Spencer asked.

“Well, no. Just that she sounded really perfect for you so I had a hard time believing it at first. But then I met her and she literally reminded me of you.” Derek tried to explain but it didn’t sound all too convincing. 

Spencer and Y/n looked at each other before laughing. Y/n had just met Derek and he thought she was someone that Spencer made up. Their giggles made Derek feel stupid.

And that’s something he doesn’t feel often (not counting the times Spencer made him feel stupid). 

Y/n had calmed down first before holding out her free hand for Derek to shake, “Hi, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m going back to school to be a teacher but currently I’m working as a barista. I’ve been told I’m patient and kind. Spencer and I have been dating since we were 22 but we met when we were 20.” 

Y/n then spared a glance at Spencer before asking, “Same intro you gave him right?” 

Spencer nodded with a smile before kissing the crown of her head, “Yep same one you gave to my mom.” 

Derek looked between the young couple content on the evidence presented to him. Derek took Y/n’s hand and shook it giving a greeting of his own, “It’s nice to meet you Y/n. I’m Derek Morgan and I’ve become Spencer’s big brother. So don’t you go breaking his heart.” 

The toothy smile was answer enough, but Y/n couldn’t resist her response, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Spencer had excused the two of them to go eat lunch at his desk. Spencer was happy that his lives were starting to blend together.

He’s especially glad that his favorite people were able to meet each other once and for all. Even though one of them thought the other was a figment of his imagination.

[hyewka]

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part six)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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The thick, heavy feeling of humiliation floods Rafe’s body when he hears rapid knocks at his door. Someone must have heard his father’s shouting.

He avoids eye contact with Ward as he stalks past him to open the door. And of course, you of all people, are standing there.

Your eyes are deep with something he hasn’t seen in them before. Concern?

Rafe flits his gaze away from you, clenching his jaw, sure you can tell he just wiped a tear away before you knocked.

“What?” he says stiffly.

“Everyone can hear you,” you say. Rafe is ready to snap at you for daring to scold him when he’s so obviously in the middle of something tense.

But you’re gazing past him, staring right at his father, who’s clearly embarrassed. Your mouth is set into a hard line. Rafe has seen you irritated, but he realizes he’s never seen you angry.

“I don’t know what the issue is, but I doubt you need to scream about it,” you say. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. The last time you and Rafe spoke face to face, he was a jerk. But here you are, defending him.

“This doesn’t concern you,” his father says.

“It does when the whole building can hear you,” you snap. “Calm down.”

You glance at Rafe, whose eyes are red and glossy. He looks away from you again.

You can only scoff at this point, too worked up to go back to your room. You turn and rush down the hallway to take a walk.

Hearing Rafe’s father mock him for crying has tied a painful knot in your chest. Rafe’s not the warmest person, but he definitely doesn’t deserve that.

Rafe shuts the door, shoulders a little less tight than they were before you knocked. A moment passes before he looks back at his father, who shakes his head at him.

Ward seems a bit rattled. The fact that you did this to him would be funny to Rafe if he wasn’t so hurt right now.

“Get yourself together, alright?” Ward mutters, collecting his jacket and storming out of the room.

As you walk around campus, you can’t stop thinking about how broken Rafe looked after the verbal lashing. You hate to make excuses for the guy, but maybe this is a common occurrence for him and that’s why he’s so mad at the world.

An idea strikes you to try to cheer him up. Or at least make him laugh.

As you make your way back to your dorm, you text Rafe: you alone? can i come over for a sec?

Rafe wants you over for much longer than that. He replies a minute later: ya.

When he opens the door moments later, he’s embarrassed all over again. Knowing you saw him in that state makes his heart drum with anxiety. He was so vulnerable, so exposed.

“Hey. You okay?” you ask. You hold out a plastic bag from the on-campus drugstore.

“I’m fine,” he says, apprehensively taking the bag out of your hand. “What’s this?”

“Was that your dad?” you ask. He only nods.

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but he’s kind of a jerk,” you say. “I got you something.” You point to the bag. “You can use it when you run out of the one you already have. In like a year.”

Rafe can’t help but laugh when he opens the bag and sees a small plastic jar of protein powder. He thinks back to you teasing him for the massive tub sitting on his desk.

“Why…?” He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not used to getting presents.

“We’re… kind of friends now, right?”

“I guess,” he replies. Now that he thinks about it, it’s true. He has fun with you, and not just when you’re hooking up.

“Hearing what he said just… it pissed me off,” you continue. “And I have no idea how to cheer you up, but I do know you like this stuff.”

It’s such a silly gesture. But it’s so sweet, too. It makes Rafe’s heart twist in a confusing way. You care about him. As a friend.

“I just wanted to tell you that whatever you did… it didn’t warrant that,” you tell him. He watches you with an indistinguishable look.

He almost opens up about how painful it is when his father lays into him like that. Almost. But it’s awkward. Completely uncharted territory. He’d prefer to brush away the tension between you.

“You know what would really, really cheer me up?” Rafe slides his hand up the door frame, eyeing your chest, leaning closer to you. You laugh.

“Why don’t you tell the girl from last night?” you say. He wishes you’d seem jealous, but you don’t.

“Come on,” he whines, tilting his head back to silently beckon you into his room. Arousal and excitement bubble inside you, but you want to make him work for it.

“My back hurts from… what we did on the boat,” you admit. You’ve had a dull ache in your lower back since yesterday morning.

Guilt rocks him. You’re in pain? And he’s the reason? Shit.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling and yet again, he doesn’t know how to navigate it. Rafe has to pull the conversation back in the easy territory he knows.

“Why are you still so shy?” he says with a smirk.

“What?”

“Say it. What we did on the boat,” he teases, eyes hungrily trailing down your body.

You step back and roll your eyes, feeling your body flush all over again. While he has helped you gain some confidence, you’re not exactly as bold as he is just yet. Even saying you had sex in casual, sober conversation still feels a little weird.

“You’re annoying,” you sigh.

“You’re annoying,” he echoes. At this point, the exchange has become an inside joke. “And I think you need more practice if you’re still so nervous.”

Rafe tenses as he waits for your response. What if you say you’ve had enough of him? Or that you’re focused on Blake now?

You love the anticipatory look on Rafe’s face. You love that this arrangement between you two isn’t over.

“Did you not hear me say my back hurts?” you tease.

“I’ll make it better,” he flirts.

“How?” you ask.

“I’ll show you,” he promises. He puts the bag on his desk then pulls you in by the hips and leans down to kiss you.

The door slams behind you. His fingers slip beneath your shirt as he slowly paces backwards, taking you with him.

He settles onto his bed and you straddle him, resting your arms on his shoulders as you share slow, deep kisses. You feel his cock hardening at your groin.

“Where’s it hurt, baby?” he rasps, his nose nudging yours, his hand dragging up your spine. “You need a massage?”

He’s so tender during these heated moments. If he was like this all the time, you’d probably like him as more than a friend. But you know letting yourself develop a crush will bring nothing but bad.

“Everywhere,” you reply with a smile.

“I thought you said your back-”

“Nope, I said everywhere.” Rafe smiles against your lips and kisses your neck, slowly pulling your shirt off. He continues to pepper kisses over your skin as he unhooks your bra.

He gently squeezes your breasts, palms kneading you carefully.

“Even here?” Rafe asks.

“Especially there,” you say. He smirks, playing along, massaging your breasts. You start to writhe on top of him, head swimming in pleasure.

His hot mouth finds your nipple and you gasp at the sensation. With your cheek pressed against his temple, you rake your hand through his hair, feeling how damp your panties are.

You apprehensively part your lips to speak, telling yourself to say what you’re feeling like he always encourages you to.

“I’m already so wet,” you whisper. Rafe’s grasp on you tightens once he hears the words spill out of your mouth.

“I’ll massage you and then I’ll fuck that cunt nice and slow,” he says, meeting your eyes again, voice thick with longing. “You want that?”

“Mhm,” you nod breathlessly. His hands drag down to your ass, squeezing. His breath is shallow and ragged as he digs his fingers into your asscheeks, pushing you forward.

You bunch up the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders, tugging it off.

“Lie down,” he tells you. “On your stomach.”

You sink onto his bed, head on his pillow. Rafe takes your pants and panties down in one languid pull, his stomach numbing at the sight of your bare ass propped up just for him.

He starts at your calves, running his palms up and down. You sigh in contentment as he massages your legs, inching up to the backs of your thighs.

“I can tell you’ve done this before,” you say, your smile apparent in your tone. “You’re so good at it.”

Rafe breathes a chuckle. He hasn’t. He’s never touched a girl like this, never wanted to cherish and worship someone else’s body before. But he lets you believe he has.

When he reaches your ass, you tremble with the way he rubs you. Rafe watches his fingers digging into your flesh, squeezing, his cock aching at this point.

He moves up to the small of your back, his grip gentler now, thumbs rubbing into your hips.

“Here?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Rafe thinks back to the view of you on the boat in the moonlight as he thrusted in and out of you. You looked and sounded like you were enjoying yourself. He hates to think you were in pain.

“Did it hurt when we were doing it?” he asks.

“What?”

“On the boat,” he says. “Did your back hurt then?”

“No,” you laugh. “Or maybe it did and I didn’t notice.”

Rafe wants you to know how sorry he is. But mushy words have never come easy to him, so he leans over and decides to show you, instead of tell you, how guilty he feels.

His lips press between your shoulder blades in a warm, sweet kiss. You giggle at the sensation. He lowers and kisses you again, then again, then again, trailing down your spine, thumbs still rolling over your hips.

You’re reeling. The feeling is unbelievable. And romantic. This is like last weekend, when your time together felt less like fucking and more like… well, something deeper.

You realize you must be teaching him well. Because the sex doesn’t just physically feel good anymore. It’s emotional now, too.

You feel the mattress shift beneath you as Rafe settles on his knees over you, his legs boxing in yours.

He watches his hands run up your back, massaging deep into your muscles. You let out sighs of contentment and he fucking loves knowing he’s making you feel this good.

You feel Rafe put more of his weight on you as he kneels over, rubbing you tenderly. The change in position allows him some relief on his erection, rubbing up against your ass.

He hates that he’s still in his jeans, but at least his cock is getting some attention.

“Not too rough?” he asks.

“No,” you say, your eyes closed, your pretty lips parted. “Keep going.”

He continues to massage you, denim grinding against your ass.

“You gonna take your pants off?” you ask brazenly. Rafe smiles. He loves when you share what you’re thinking, especially when you’re telling him how much you want him.

He sits up to unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them off and dropping them to the floor. He throws his boxers on top of his jeans and settles back over you.

The feeling of his smooth cock against your ass makes your blood feel like it’s burning through you. He shifts and leans over so that his length is between your asscheeks, his hands continuing to soothe the muscles in your back.

It’s overwhelming, how badly he wants you. And how he realizes that every time he fucks you, he’ll be wondering if it’s the last time.

Rafe continues to caress you, slowly rocking against your ass.

He can’t take it anymore. He sits up to grab a condom out of his nightstand. You exhale in relief when you hear the wrapper crinkling.

Before he enters you, he slides his hand down past your ass and presses two fingers against your hot, wet entrance.

“You ready for me?” he asks.

“Please,” you whisper, tilting your hips so he can ease himself in.

When Rafe kneels over again, he guides his cock into you slowly. You moan at the sensation of him stretching you out with every inch.

The way your pussy wraps around him is perfection. He looks down to watch his cock bury into you, his arms hardly keeping him up.

He shifts to rest his forearms on the bed. His hard torso presses up against your back, his breath hot on your cheek.

“This pussy feels so fucking nice,” he groans into your ear.

He bottoms out and you can feel his thick cock fully immersed in you.

“I love feeling how deep you go,” you say. Rafe might just lose his damn mind. You have such a mouth on you.

He rocks his hips back, then plunges into you again. His teeth graze against your cheek and when he nips at your earlobe, you huff a laugh of pleasure.

“You take it so well,” he praises through heavy breaths, plunging in and out of you. “You’re perfect. Say it. Say you’re perfect.”

“I’m perfect,” you echo, and in the wild heat of the moment, you believe it for a second.

The sound of how wet you are is like a drug to him. He fills you over and over again, loving how you’re squirming beneath him, your hips circling.

“On your knees,” he whispers, propping himself up again.

You obey, back arched, giving him full access to you. His hand slips down your stomach and between your legs, finding your clit immediately.

He knows your body now. He knows it so fucking well.

He rubs in circles, his other arm locked and keeping him perched up, while he melts into you. His thrusts start to get harder and your moans get louder.

“Oh…” you whisper. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” he rasps. “Be a good girl and let me hear how nice it feels.”

Your walls are clenching around him now, your moans loud as you reach your peak, and he couldn’t stop his orgasm if he tried.

“Fuck,” he draws out, trembling as he cums. You flutter around him, climaxing at the same time, your sounds tangling together and your bodies shaking in harmony.

You’re twitching with aftershocks when he pulls out of you. Rafe runs a hand down your back, dazed as hell, appreciating how good you make him feel. Nobody’s ever had this effect on him.

He throws out the condom as you remain in his bed, coming down from the high. You turn to your side, watching him as he cleans up, your eyes taking in the sight of his taut, naked body.

This time, Rafe didn’t say anything about him, a man he wouldn’t name, not being able to fuck you as good as he can. But he called you perfect.

“Rafe?” you breathe.

“Yeah?”

“Did you notice that we didn’t have pointers for each other this time?”

If Rafe knew he’d be hearing that a couple of weeks ago when all this started, he’d assume he’d be elated. But his whole body feels heavy. Does that mean you’ve got what you wanted out of each other? It’s over?

“I guess we’re experts now,” he says with a laugh.

“I guess so.” You sigh deeply. “I’ll get up soon. I’m just so cozy.”

Rafe is glad you know you shouldn’t stay. A part of him wants you to, and it’s kind of jarring that he wants that. But it’s too intimate and meaningful if you sleep over after sex. He can’t handle it.

He typically puts his boxers on after cumming almost immediately, even when he’s still hard and coming down. No girl’s ever seen him soft before. It feels so vulnerable for some reason.

But he lies down next to you, facing you with his head propped up in his hand, both of you naked and panting and sweaty.

“A-plus?” Rafe asks, remembering you saying the same thing in his car.

“Without a doubt,” you say. Your smile is weak and sexy.

Holy shit. He realizes this is the definition of pillow talk.

No. This is aftercare. You taught him that it’s important.

Rafe gazes into your eyes, thinking about the look in them when you interrupted him being berated earlier.

You give him a small smile before standing to get dressed.

He turns onto his back to watch you and the gift in the plastic bag sitting on his desk catches his eye. He sits up in his bed, seeing you pull your underwear on as he covers his groin with his comforter.

“Thanks,” he says, with difficulty. “For, uh… the present.” And for caring enough, he thinks. For defending him in front of a man you’ve never met. For refusing to embarrass him with the fact that you saw him crying.

“Oh, sure,” you laugh. You enjoy the view of him sitting up in bed, muscles flexed and skin sheened with sweat. But mostly, you enjoy the way his hair is all tousled and messy, the way his eyes are half-lidded and content.

“Did… the whole building really hear?” he asks. You freeze for a moment, remembering how you snapped at his father.

“No,” you respond, hooking your bra. “I was just trying to make him feel bad. Sorry if I was out of line.”

Rafe chuckles. You have nothing to be sorry for.

“You weren’t,” he replies. He thinks about what you said when you came by again. Whatever you did didn’t warrant that. He needs to be sure.

“I racked up my credit card bill,” he admits. You meet his eyes as you pull up your pants, placing your phone on his desk.

“That’s it?” you scoff. “What bullshit.” It’s such a simple reaction, but it grants Rafe a sense of validation he’s not sure he has ever felt before.

He wonders how he can possibly tell you that he’s never had someone defend him against his father without sounding like a pathetic crybaby. If he even should. Why the hell does he have the impulse to share that with you?

A few seconds of silence settle between you. Before he can speak, your phone vibrates loudly on his desk. You peer at the screen and chuckle at the notification before putting on your top.

“What’s funny?” he asks.

“Blake just told me what an ABC party is,” you say, rereading the text. It stands for anything but clothes lol. People get really creative. “You guys are hosting one on Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Rafe replies coldly. He bets you don’t smile or laugh at his texts like that.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he snaps.

You meet his gaze and feel your brows furrow.

“No, seriously. What?” you ask.

“Just go,” he responds. You huff, anger brewing inside you.

“Rafe,” you say, annoyed. Why’s he so angry? Does he not want you at the party? Or is this jealousy?

He’s silent. Expressionless.

“God,” you snip. “Your temper is… I never know when you’re gonna fucking snap at me. Like the other day at the lakehouse. Before I left. I don’t know why you were such a dick out of nowhere.”

He completely forgot about that exchange. He didn’t know it affected you. That it stayed with you. All he could remember was how mad he felt seeing you with Blake.

Goddamn it. Why is he so jealous? What the hell does he want? Exclusivity? No fucking chance. The pressure of a relationship is the last thing he needs in his life.

“So?” you demand. Rafe just stares at you. “You can’t even apologize?”

He’s confused and bitter and frustrated. He simply shrugs carelessly, face blank.

You shake your head in anger, leaving his room without another word. You told yourself you would only expect coldness from Rafe from now on. You hate that you broke your own promise.

Rafe needs to stay away from you. This effect you have on him has him so damn disoriented, like he just got off a rollercoaster and doesn’t know which way is up.

He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend. And at the same time, he doesn’t want you to be a girlfriend. To anyone.

On Wednesday morning, Blake texts you asking if you want to study at the frat house in the afternoon.

You’ve looking forward to continuing to see if your chemistry is as good in-person as it is over text. You haven’t had much time with him, but you enjoy his company.

When you make it to the house, Blake opens the door with a bright smile on his face. He leads you upstairs to his bedroom, where he has blankets laid out on the floor and draped over the foot of his bed frame and desk chair.

“Did you make a fort?” you say with a chuckle.

“A study fort,” he replies. “There’s not a lot of space to study around here. I had to get creative.“ You laugh and settle on the floor.

Over the next hour, you talk more than you study. Conversation doesn’t always flow very easily, but Blake’s a sweetheart, through and through.

Rafe’s heart drops when he hears your voice. He’s sitting on the couch playing video games with Sam, craning his neck to look back at the staircase.

You’re smiling, your hand skimming the bannister as you make your way down the stairs. And of course, Blake’s beside you, the one making you smile.

This is hell. And he’s the reason you two even fucking know each other.

Rafe catches your gaze. You look so relaxed. As if it’s normal, the way you’re walking around looking beautiful and breaking his heart.

“Thought you hated frat boys,” Rafe says, eyes floating down your body, like if inspects your clothes hard enough, he can tell if you took them off upstairs.

You catch his harsh tone immediately. Of course he’s being mean. Again.

“They’re not all bad,” you respond.

Rafe might just break the controller in his hands. He looks back to the screen, stomach turning. He hears you say goodbye to Blake and shut the front door behind you.

As you step out of the house, you think that if you’re right, if Rafe really is jealous of Blake, why he doesn’t just do something about it. Why he doesn’t just ask you to be with him. Because even though he pisses you off so much, maybe you’d accept.

But if there’s anything you know for sure about Rafe, it’s that he is not boyfriend material. He said it himself. No couple shit.

“What’d you do up there?” Sam calls out. Blake laughs and settles on the couch. Rafe keeps his eyes on the screen.

“Studied,” Blake replies.

“Sure,” Sam replies.

“Seriously,” Blake says. “I’m not trying to jump into that with her.”

“Why not? Rafe did,” Sam chides. Rafe smirks at this. He’s glad the reminder’s there that he had you first.

“You two still messing around?” Blake asks. Rafe can finally make eye contact with him.

“Yeah,” he says firmly. “She didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask,” Blake says. He seems unbothered. This pisses Rafe off even more. As if Rafe isn’t a threat at all.

“You’re whipped,” Sam says. Rafe’s stomach drops, eyes darting to Sam. But he’s not talking to Rafe. He’s talking to Blake. “You haven’t even gotten any yet and you’re whipped.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Blake laughs.

“He didn’t deny it,” Sam tells Rafe, who wishes he did. “You making it official?”

“Gonna try,” Blake says. At least you’re not exclusive yet, Rafe thinks. He probably has a few more nights with you as long as you’re not eternally pissed off at him.

Blake taps Rafe’s shoulder.

“She’d be off limits if you actually liked her, man,” Blake says. “We don’t let girls get in between us.”

Rafe has to stop himself from scoffing. He doesn’t feel like Blake is his brother anymore. He doesn’t know the exact moment it happened, when he went from looking up to him to disliking him.

But if he wants a future at this frat, he needs to get along with everyone. Especially an upperclassman. And besides, what’s he gonna say? That he doesn’t want him to date you because the sex is too good?

“Right,” Rafe says, turning back to focus on the game.

That Friday night, another fraternity is hosting a mixer at their house. While it’s mainly for frat boys and sorority girls, Blake shoots you an invite. You accept, arriving at the house with Liv around 10 p.m.

Rap music is blaring through Rafe’s ears at the party. He realizes he’s checking the door to see when you’ll arrive. Blake said you’re coming.

He hates hearing your name come out of Blake’s mouth, but at least he hasn’t seen you together since Wednesday.

When you finally arrive, Rafe takes another swig of his beer and makes his way to you. He was supposed to stay away but you’re like a magnet and he’s fucking hopeless at this point. He actually misses you.

Rafe approaches you, blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Pretty sure you’re not in a sorority,” he says in your ear, ducking so you can hear him over the music. You smell his cologne, realizing just how much you’ve missed it.

Your last exchange was after your study date with Blake a couple of days ago. You’re still pissed off at how he snapped at you then. And on Monday, after you hooked up.

“Oh, are those the rules?” you say, an edge to your voice. “Since when did you care about rules?”

Rafe’s pulse quickens. You have this ridiculous effect on him, making him feel like he’s being pulled out of water he didn’t know he was drowning in every time he sees you.

“Since always,” he responds.

“Sure,” you say, squinting. You don’t return his smile. Rafe nervously scratches the back of his neck.

“What’s up your ass?” he mutters. You cross your arms.

“You’re kidding, right?” you ask. You try to give him some leniency, knowing what you know about how his father treats him. But it’s infuriating how rude he was to you. You know you don’t deserve it.

Rafe’s eyes dart away. He wishes you’d just forget about how he left things a few days ago. He grits his teeth and leans forward again.

“Sorry,” he says.

“For?” you ask. “Use your words.” He scoffs and sucks his teeth.

“I was a dick,” he finally mutters.

“Again.”

“Again,” he echoes.

“Be nice to me. I’m not friends with dicks,” you say. There’s that word again. Friends. Rafe swallows down his frustration.

“You seem to like mine,” he responds. You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder, but the smile on your face gives you away.

The moment is quick and small, but it makes his heart pound with a feeling only you give him.

“I need a drink,” you say. “Try not to piss anyone else off.”

Rafe hates that you leave his side so quickly. He realizes he’d prefer to spend the rest of this party talking to you instead of mixing.

As the night goes on, he forces conversation with his frat brothers, his eyes searching for you.

When a sorority girl strikes up a conversation with him, Rafe tries not to focus on how he’s comparing her to you and how you win in every category.

He’s standing by the staircase when he sees you again. You’re with Blake, standing inches away from him, laughing with him.

It’s a countdown at this point, Rafe realizes. Every day, he gets closer to losing the best no-strings-attached sex he’s ever had.

Fuck. It’s more than that. He knows it’s more than that when he sees you playfully push Blake’s shoulder the same way you do to him.

He’s drunk and annoyed and pissed off and wants to make you feel how you make him feel even though you’ve friendzoned him, so he cuts off the sorority girl in the middle of her sentence with a kiss.

She seems taken aback, but then she returns the kiss, her arms quickly wrapping around his neck.

Rafe keeps his eyes locked on you, and when you meet his gaze, seeing his mouth on another girl’s, your stomach swirls with uneasiness.

You turn your attention back to Blake and take his hand, leading him away so you don’t have to look at Rafe any longer.

(part seven)

author’s note: love you @rafesgiirl for the suggestion!

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[luxaofhesperides]

Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!” 

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

[blueicequeen19]

Control

Warnings: public cock warming, public unprotected sex, degrading, praise, Frat Boy Rafe 🔥

I didn’t object to Rafe pulling me onto his lap, trapping me between him and the table. I didn’t object when his hand started to trace circles along my inner thigh under my plaid skirt as he continued to read his book with his free hand. I didn’t even object when he began to palm my aching bare pussy. He’d made me take my panties off before we came and tuck them in his pocket. You didn’t complain when you were dating Rafe Cameron. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. And if he wanted to fuck you in the silent library, surrounded by his college peers then you let him.

I tried to be a good girl and not shift too much on his lap but it was hard with the way his skilled fingers kept stroking my clit until my pussy and thighs were absolutely soaked.

“Rafe.” I whispered, my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t move.” Rafe instructed in a whisper, never looking up from his book. I glanced around but no one was looking up or noticed. Everyone had their nose in a book, deep in concentration. The only way they could see what was happening was if they looked under the table. But I still had to remain quiet.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down even as he reached lower and buried two fingers inside me. I clamped my mouth shut, turning my head and attempting to plead with him with my eyes but he didn’t even look up from his book. A minute passed and his fingers didn’t move. I was starting to become delirious with need. I was about to start begging in front of all these people when his thumb pressed against my clit. My body jerked against the table but no one looked up, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

“I told you not to move.” Rafe finally spoke again in my ear, his voice low in warning.

“Rafe, please, let’s go somewhere.” I hissed back, my hands gripping the table to keep myself from grinding against his fingers.

“No, I have to study.” Rafe said, turning back to his book. I was going to die. I was going to cum in front of his peers and die of humiliation and maybe even a heart attack. I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Reach behind you and undo my pants.” Rafe murmurs softly in my ear. Oh god.

My hands shake as I do as instructed, his cock springing free the moment his button releases. He wasn’t wearing boxers. I try to bring my hands back around but Rafe curls his fingers inside me, making me gasp and jerk against him. Still, no one looks up or pays us any mind.

“Stand up and take a drink of your water then sit back down on my cock.” Rafe instructs, his low voice like a caress down my spine. He removes his fingers from inside me as I plant my feet on the floor and push myself up to reach for my water bottle. I take a small sip as I feel him guide his cock between my legs and to my soaked entrance.

“Rafe?” I startle, looking to one of his friends across the table who’s trying to get his attention. I’m afraid to move but Rafe’s fingers nudge my thigh, telling me to sit down.

“Yea?” Rafe asks, like I’m not about to sit down on his cock in front of all his peers. Rafe sits his book down to grab my thigh under the table and forces me to sit. The hardest thing I’d ever encountered was resisting the urge to let my eyes roll into the back of my head as he filled me. His cock was so thick and hard that I couldn’t think.

I could barely lean forward enough to grab my book but it only made him reach a different angle and I stopped abruptly, my inner walls spasming and my bottom lip quivers. The pleasure was so intense I felt like I was going to cry.

“Did you get the finance worksheet done?” Rafe’s friend asks. Rafe’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me firmly against his chest as he picks up his book again. I raise my own book to hide my face. They engage in conversation about homework in low voices so not to draw negative attention from the librarian all while I’m on the verge of unraveling. I could feel his cock pulsing inside me. Just as ravenous as I was.

Finally, Rafe relaxes into his seat and widens his legs, only driving his cock deeper. I let the book rest against my forehead to keep from moaning. I could feel sweat running down my back and on the back of my neck. I reach down to slide my hand under my skirt to take the edge off, to hell with these people, when Rafe’s hand suddenly snatches my wrist, holding it firmly against my side.

“Behave and I’ll let you finish.” Rafe murmurs into my ear, his breath on my skin giving me goosebumps and making me clench around him. The teasing was driving me mad. I needed to move. I needed to rock back and forth between bounces on his cock. I needed him to slap my pussy as I chased my release. I needed..

“Easy. You’re tightening around me. Wouldn’t want me to get mine without yours, would you?” Rafe taunts in my ear. My nostrils flare and I debate standing. To hell with this.

Just then a book slams shut and one of his friends announces it’s time to get something to eat. The rest follow suit except one girl who looks between us, her murderous glare landing on me before she follows the rest of them. I suddenly felt privileged to be sitting on Rafe’s cock out in the open if it brought the jealous bitch some misery.

Now that we’re alone, Rafe sits his book down and wraps his free arm around my waist. My heart rate kicks into high gear as he positions my legs on either side of his, opening me obscenely wide while immobilizing me.

“R-Rafe—.” I start, my body beginning to tremble.

“Take your panties from my pocket and put them in your mouth. I know you’re a desperate little bitch but I need you to be quiet.” Rafe murmurs, his hand sliding between my legs to stroke my clit. I buck and whimper as I reach back with a shaky hand and dig my panties from his jacket pocket. This was so degrading but I didn’t care. His cock was so hard inside me and rubbing against places that threatened to send me to another dimension. If he wanted me to put my own panties in my mouth, I would.

“Good girl.” Rafe purred, lightly slapping his hand against my pussy. My body seized and I gripped the table for dear life. Anyone could walk around the corner and catch us. We could be expelled.

All thoughts left me as Rafe begin to move, slowly pumping his cock in and out of me like his soul purpose in life was to see me lose control.

“Fuck yes.” Rafe breathed, pumping his hips harder and faster. The sound of my arousal was obvious with every push and pull of his thick cock. The thought of being caught only made me more wet. I was right there. Right. There.

“Put your feet on the floor and grab the table.” Rafe suddenly says, helping me maneuver my shaking legs over his to reach the floor. My body tightened around his again as I brought my legs together, tears filling my eyes as I did as I was told.

“Lift up just a little and hold it. Don’t move.” Rafe rasps, his voice thick with need too. Good. I wanted this to drive him just as crazy.

The moment I used the table to lift myself up, he started to fuck me hard and fast, his pelvis slamming against my ass where he yanked my skirt up. I buried my face against my arm to keep from making any noises even with my own panties in my mouth as he pistoned into me, using his hands on my hips to pull me back into every thrust. All while he stayed sitting down.

“Cum you little slut. Let me feel it drip down to my fucking balls.” I didn’t have to be told twice. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my body seizing and convulsing as he ripped the most intense orgasm of my life from my body. I knew I’d made a mess. I faintly heard a small gasp that I knew hadn’t came from me so I lifted my eyes to find the mean girl from earlier watching us with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth. I smiled at her just as Rafe huffed a breath and spilled inside me, flooding my insides with his warmth.

“Goddamn.” Rafe breathed, pulling me back against him as the evidence of what we’d just done drips from me. The girl turns and flees and that makes me happier.

“How about you get underneath this table and clean up our mess then we’ll go get dinner?” Rafe whispers in my ear, his hand sliding between us to cup where we’re still connected. I turn my head to face him and he pulls my panties from my mouth and kisses me hard. I begin to rock my hips again, my cares from earlier completely forgotten about as I chase another high. Rafe pulls back from the kiss to smirk at me, his hand sliding lower to force two fingers inside me along with his cock. I wince. The stretch too much but too good to stop.

“Greedy fucking slut. One more then you’re going to lap up this mess.” Rafe breathes, kissing me again to silence me as I fall apart again.

If he wanted me to crawl naked on broken glass just to taste him.. I would.

You didn’t tell Rafe Cameron no.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

New Horizons

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Deaf!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You were born deaf in a family that can hear. They've adapted to make you feel like part of the family. Spencer met you and learned sign language for you. Now you get a chance to join their world. Will you take it?

Square Filled: deaf au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The bacon in the pan on the stove slowly turns crispy brown the longer it sits in the grease. The food smells amazing as does most food. You have a very sensitive nose and acute vision. Spencer likes to quiz you on what he has in his lunch bag without opening it just to see if you can smell what’s in there.

You look to the right and see Spencer pace the length of the living room with his phone to his ear. His mouth moves but no noise comes out of it. The bacon cooks but no noise comes from the sizzling. The coffee machine blinks rapidly to let you know that it’s done brewing but no noise comes from it. Spencer’s face scrunches up in frustration as he becomes more animated on the phone. Man, there’s nothing you wouldn’t give to hear the sound of his voice.

You’ve never heard anything make noise a day in your life. You’re deaf and have been since birth. Your entire family is hearing so you’re not sure where you got your deafness from. Is it even hereditary? Is it just a malfunction? You’re not exactly sure why you’re deaf and none of your family is, but it’s been a wild ride, to say the least.

The natural thing to do as a human is to express your emotions through words, but you can’t do that. Because you’ve never been able to hear, you never got the chance to learn how to speak. You’re an adult and don’t know how to speak. It hurt you sometimes knowing Spencer got to do something you’d never be able to do.

To express how you’re feeling, you took up painting and drawing at a very young age. To experiment with different colors and brushes, to create something to express how you’re feeling felt good. It felt so good that you wanted to provide that to other people who had a hard time expressing through words.

When you got out of college, you started a business of being an art teacher for deaf and hard-of-hearing people. Hearing people can join your class, obviously, but the target audience is people with a hearing disability. It’s gotten more popular over the years, so you have your own studio right down the road from your apartment.

If you’ve learned one thing about being deaf is that you’re not going to let it hinder your life in any way. The same thing goes for your relationship with Spencer.

When you met him, he was passing by your studio and thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Truly shining in your element. He learned very quickly that you were deaf but that didn’t stop him from wanting to get to know you. He never had the desire to learn Sign Language until he met you. That night, he studied the language and practiced signing so he would be able to talk to you.

Naturally, he picked the skill up quickly.

He asked you on a date that very next day. It was impressive to know someone who didn’t know a single thing about Sign Language only to come to you the next day and know enough to have a conversation. He didn’t know everything so you helped him where you could; he was being so cute about it.

No one has ever gone through so much trouble just to talk to you. Most people would either write what they want to say or not bother talking to you at all. Not Spencer. He put in the effort. 

That’s how you knew he was the one.

He came by your studio every day until he convinced you that living together was the best thing. He lives pretty close to his job at the BAU but moved in with you which puts an extra thirty minutes on his commute every morning. He gave up living where he was just to be with you because it was easier for you to be close to your studio.

You fell for him and fell hard. Plus, he loves having all of your artwork in the apartment. It’s very colorful and expressive, and that’s how he knows how you feel. He’d never want to put a limit on what you can create, and you’d never want to leave his life dull and colorless.

Your disability has never come between you, but now you have a choice to make. 

Your parents called you yesterday over video chat to tell you they have the money to give you surgery for a cochlear implant… if you want it. You’d finally be able to hear. You’d finally be able to be just like everyone else. It’s not a decision you can make lightly because there is so much weight behind it.

The deaf community has done so much for your life; you love what it stands for. It’s a community that constantly proves itself worthy against a world that thinks so negatively about it. Some of your bestest friends are deaf, and they’re wonderful people. Just because someone can’t hear, doesn’t make them any less of a person.

Taking this surgery feels like a cop-out like you’re just looking for a way to escape the deaf community and take the easy way out. It’s not like that at all. You’d never want to be separated from a culture that is so diverse and so beautiful, but you’d have a shot at being able to hear. It’s something you’d always wanted for yourself even if you couldn’t admit it.

You’d finally be able to hear bacon pop and sizzle. You’d be able to hear your mom laugh at one of your dad’s corny jokes. You’d get to hear Spencer’s voice. How can you accept a surgery like this and not feel like you’re abandoning a culture that cared for you? You’re more than capable of living a happy and successful life without being able to hear but does that mean you should? That you want to?

Spencer gets off the phone and sees you staring into the pan of bacon in thought. He walks over to you and makes sure you can see him instead of sneaking up on you. He doesn’t know how many times he’s approached you without you knowing he was there. You snap out of your own thoughts and look at him.

What’s wrong? He signs.

I can’t stop thinking of what my parents said.

Are you having doubts? You shrug. It doesn't matter if you can hear or not. I fell in love with you and will support you in whatever you want to do.

Damn, you really got lucky to be with a man like Spencer. You take the bacon off the pan and plate it, but you don’t move to eat it.

I know. Thank you.

I have to go to work, but I will see you afterward.

He leans in and kisses you, making it last a few seconds longer than usual. When he pulls away, he smiles at your dazed look. He makes you feel things you never knew a man could make you feel. He mouths, “I love you” and you mouth it right back to him. He leaves the apartment soon after, and you rush over to the small balcony you have that overlooks the busy street below.

Spencer walks away from the apartment and to the nearest bus stop which is at the end of the street. The bus comes ten minutes later and takes him to work, but you don’t leave your spot on the balcony. People bust their asses to get to where they need to go unbeknownst that you’re watching them from above.

There are two mothers by the bus stop who have children with them who look to be crying. They dig through their bags for some food to ease their child’s discomfort. Across the street is a couple that looks to be arguing. You can tell by the angry look on the woman’s face and the desperate look on her partner’s face. Kids play basketball in the park next to the bus stop. People walk their dogs who bark at other dogs they see.

The bustling city below and you have an opportunity to hear all of it.

If you’re going to get the surgery, you want it for yourself and no one else. You don’t want to be doing this for anyone but yourself. You want to be able to hear and listen to movies instead of reading them. You want to be able to listen to music instead of feeling them. You want to be able to listen to Spencer when he talks instead of reading his hands.

So, you get it. You get the surgery.

When you wake up, your whole family is waiting for you in your hospital room. Your head is in major pain from where they cut into you to place the cochlear implant. There is a device that will stick to the side of your head like a magnet that will communicate to the implant in your head so that you can hear the world around you.

The doctor comes in with the device and explains to you that once he places it on, he’ll calibrate it and turn it on. Your entire family is silent as he does this because they don’t want to bombard you with noise after living a life of no noise. Your mom looks at the doctor who nods as soon as the device is turned on.

The first thing you hear is the ticking of the machine next to you. The next thing you hear is the fluorescent bulbs in the lights above buzzing. Everything is heightened after never having the sense. Your mother steps forward and grabs your hands with a smile on her face.

“Can you hear me?” she asks.

You don’t understand what she is saying but hearing her voice for the first time brings tears rolling down your cheeks. She lets go of your hands and signs at the same time she talks so you at least know what she’s saying.

“Can you hear me?” You nod eagerly. She then signs your name. “Your name is Y/N.”

This is so overwhelming for you. Your body has never felt this high before. Your family takes turns signing and speaking to you, and you never stop crying once. Your mom laughs and you look at her with all the love in the world. Her laugh is so beautiful.

“Do you want to see Spencer?” your mom asks and signs at the same time.

You nod eagerly and she steps into the hallway to bring him in. He’s kind of nervous. What if you don’t like his voice? What if you hate it? What if you only love him because he never talked? You can practically see the thoughts he’s having so you reach out for him. Your family shuffles out of the room to give you two some alone time while they talk to the doctor in the hallway. He takes your hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb.

Speak to me, you sign.

“Can you hear me?” he signs and asks. A new wave of tears comes rushing out. Fuck, his voice is so beautiful. “My name is Spencer.”

Your voice sounds like a sunset, you sign with a teary smile.

“I love you,” he signs and says.

Wow, so that’s what that sounds like.

I love you, you sign back.

You’re ready to start this next chapter of your life with Spencer by your side.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[ironunderstands]

Yapping about why I love Aventio and what I feel makes it a great ship 

(If you hate it I urge you to read this, because you don’t have to agree with me, but I want you to get where Aventio shippers are coming from at least)

I’ve just really wanted to talk about why I love Aventio because the people do not get it like I do and GODDD ITS SO GOOD WHEN DONE CORRECTLY UGHHHHH

Also this is gonna be VERY stream of consciousness I do not have a plan besides dragging you through my brain so enjoy the ride.

I guess the best place to start is the fact that Aventurine and Ratio are my two favorite characters in the game. Like even if they have no interactions with each other ever and might as well be from different pieces of media I would ship them, because I like seeing characters I like interact and the fun police cannot catch me. That’s a really shallow personal reason though and I feel like the rest I have will be able to be appreciated by others.

GOD THE DYNAMIC IS SO GOOD RAAAAAA

Two emotional constipated dumbasses circling around each other like black holes trying desperately to deny and run from their feelings when they have both fallen hard. The lack of acknowledgement of feelings on both ends is TRAGIC and it makes me want to rip my eyes out in a good way, let’s start with Ratio.

Unfortunately my glorious king Ratio has been mischaracterized to hell and back but we will get to that (and the Incorrect Reasons Why People Hate Aventio) later. Instead I will go over his actual character; a deeply insecure, intelligent man who desperately wants the rest of the galaxy to come to the realizations he has long since stumbled upon, but has been so isolated from his peers from such a young age that he’s doomed to fail in literally every social interaction he has and be misunderstood by both the audience in universe and irl (the autistic coding isn’t helping him either).

Ratio is tragically misunderstood again, both in universe and by the audience, which is why it means so much that Aventurine Gets Him. Aventurine pushes his buttons, tears down that literal cold marble facade masking the deeply silly and caring man beneath (this man bathes with rubber duckies in the privacy of his own home 😭), and that scares the shit out of Ratio. People aren’t meant to see through him, Ratio acts rude not just because he believes it’s the best way to help people, and because he believes he himself is mundane and the conclusions they come to should be their own, not his.

No, it’s also because on some level Ratio is afraid to be vulnerable around people. As much as he pretends like it doesn’t affect him, Nous’s rejection has hurt and haunted Ratio for his entire life. And I do mean his entire life, even in high school he had already set up a strict routine for himself, something commented on by his teacher, Ratio has quite literally always been striving for some sort of perfection and the fact that he cannot achieve it kills him.

Moreover, the guy just grew up way too fast, he didn’t have time to develop social skills. We see it in that afformentioned relationship with his teacher, in which they recommend Ratio (who is again in high school) to be moved up to college level stuff and transferred due to his success. He has quite literally never been able to just relax in a environment of his peers, Ratio for some reason we don’t yet know has always been dedicated to constant improvement and that leaves no room for dealing with failure.

On some level, he knows this too, that he can never be perfect. Ratio is part of the Mundanites in the Intelligenica Guild for a reason, he doesn’t just see himself as mediocre because he believes everyone is and that’s ok, but also because he looks down on himself for being too mediocre for the Genius Society, being too mediocre for Nous’s acknowledgement, being too mediocre for anything.

Which is tragic because Ratio is very accomplished and he is very smart, and his character stories aren’t even told from his pov, but rather in the style of documentaries and letters (his professor) and other works on his well acclaimed life. We don’t ever get to see how Ratio really sees himself, just the tiny cracks in his marble facade that let the real man behind the character shine through.

Because that’s what he’s playing 90% of the time, a character. Whether it be at the Herta Space Station in which his real goal was to uproot the researchers blind worship of the Genius Society, or in Penacony in which he plays up the arrogant, narcissistic scholar both people in universe and irl make him out to be, both to serve a goal bigger than himself. 

Sincere moments from Ratio are RARE but god are they beautiful, his conversation from Screwllum in 1.6 and his note to Aventurine in 2.1 will forever haunt me in the best way possible. If you want to understand Ratio as a character, yes read his character stories, but just watch that damn scene with Screwllum it is phenomenal. He cares so much and is so, so bad at expressing it, he drives me nuts, Veritas Ratio the man you are. 

And the thing is, it seems like he’s always been playing a character and doesn’t know where the real him ends anymore so he just sticks to the way people perceive him a lot of the time. Like as a kid he was constantly striving to be the best so he missed a lot of necessary developmental shit, and as an adult he’s a celebrity so it’s hard for him to attach himself to others anyways because society and his students will hound him for it.

And then you throw Aventurine into the mix, and oh boy does shit get interesting.

Veritas Ratio, perfect “unfeeling” Veritas Ratio and the one person who gets him well enough to push all his buttons and expose the vulnerable underbelly he thought he hid so well. On a fundamental level, Ratio understands this, which is why he doesn’t bother with the alabaster head, as pretending the real him is just as unfeeling and uncaring is easier.

So he brushes off Aventurine’s jests as if they are an insult to his very existence, he can’t look in Aventurine’s eyes when he “betrays” him because his poker face would break, he leaves as soon as he’s done talking because lingering would allow the weight of their conversations to sink in. Part of it is because for pretty much all of Penacony, up until the note Ratio gives him, Ratio is acting, trying to play up the role of the arrogant, unfeeling scholar to make Sunday buy the betrayal plan, because to Sunday this behavior is signs of a bad relationship between the two (honestly the fact that the audience also interpreted it this way makes me mad like did yall seriously not pay attention, but also happy because if even the players were fooled that means Sunday buying it is believable). 

However, even if it feeds into his insecurities, Aventurine knows that false facade and loves tearing it down. It’s very telling that the second time we see Ratio really freak out (the first being at Herta Space Station) is at the suggestion that he came to narrate Aventurine’s demo not because of knowledge or respect for the show or whatever, but because he genuinely likes the guy. What makes it even better is that Aventurine is the one who suggested it, and already figured out the excuses Ratio was going to use to deny it. Ratio can fool everyone else in the galaxy, but he cannot fool Aventurine, and on a fundamental level that is what makes their dynamic work, because Ratio knows Aventurine in the exact same way.

Aventurine can shove away people who care about him, out of distrust and fear that they will leave him like his family did. He can believe he’s unloveable and a person so detestable that even the actions he performs in order to stay alive condemn him to hate himself as much as the rest of the galaxy hates him. But, Ratio doesn’t see him that way.

Aventurine doubts his intelligence, if he has really earned anything he’s done and in his voiceline about Ratio, doubting if Ratio even sees him as smart or worthy. However, Ratios voiceline about Aventurine is about how he believes Aventurine is smart and worthy, and that his doubt will be his downfall if he doesn’t come to the realization that he isn’t worthless. 

Ratio knows Aventurine’s one weakness, the one thing that could stop him; himself. That’s why he gives him the note urging him to stay alive and keep on living because ultimately Aventurine will only ever fail if he gives up. And The Note Is Enough, Aventurine walks into the event horizon of a black hole, confident he can return alive on the other side because someone cares about him, BECAUSE RATIO CARES ABOUT HIM, and wants him to live on even if Aventurine doesn’t feel that way towards himself.

In the metaphorical and literal manifestation of the meaningless of the universe, in the face of overwhelming nihility, Aventurine survives because someone loves him, and with that love he’s strong enough to brave even that. 

Even if they can’t admit it out loud, these two deeply, deeply care for one another and trust each other perhaps more than anyone else in the narrative. The betrayal plan would have never worked if there was not mutual trust, Ratio wouldn’t have gone to Penacony in the first place if he didn’t trust Aventurine, and Aventurine wouldn’t have asked him to come if he did not trust him. We don’t just see this trust between Aventurine and Ratio either, and Jade and Topaz both trust him with their cornerstones, but ultimately it’s Ratio who’s physically with him the whole time, risking his life alongside him for the sake of their plan. 

As much as people like to ignore it, lying to the Family members, to Sunday, is extremely dangerous and puts Ratio’s life in danger as much as it does Aventurine’s. Ratio is not an irrational person, he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t have faith Aventurine would succeed, he would not have done if he didn’t think he would return. They have absolutely faith in one another and it’s beautiful. 

Aventurine’s first constellation is named “Prisoner’s Dilemma” for a reason. A social experiment in which two prisoners are captured and separated, if they sell the other one out and remain silent, they go free but the other remains in jail for 20 years. If they both sell each other out, they get a sentence of 5 years. 

But if they both remain silent, trust the other, they even if they physically can’t communicate and don’t know what the other says, they get the best possible outcome, only one year in jail each. It requires a sacrifice on both ends, they both still have to go to jail, but only for a year, and only if they trust each other completely, as if the other sells them out they will be in jail for 20.

The prisoners dilemma relies completely on trust, and it’s the exact situation Aventurine and Ratio face in the Penacony quests. Aventurines doubts if Ratio’s betrayal was real or not, even if he set it up himself, and Ratio worries about Aventurines survival, if continuing this plan will end well. “You can’t expect a featherless bird to take flight” isn’t just Ratio chastising Sunday, he’s genuinely worried that this plan will put Aventurine at too much of a disadvantage to continue on. 

But they both trust each other, and if just like in the Dilemma neither come out completely unscathed (although it’s much worse on Aventurine’s end), they ultimately achieve their goal. 

God is it sweet and corny in the best way possible 

I want to kill this fandoms perception of stoic, emotionless Ratio because once people realize he’s actually the corniest mf ever is the day I sleep easy. He makes statues of himself doing Jojo poses, he plays chess versus himself, he named himself Veritas (truth), he loves rubber duckies, he literally sits in a bathtub couch, and Aventurine breaths and he gets flustered.

Ratio so deeply silly, chronically corny, it’s a crime he needs to be locked up someone stop him. 

And Aven brings that out of him. His teasing reveals the goofball trying so desperately to disguise himself as a serious scholar. Ratio is very smart of course, but that only makes his silliness better, as you watch this absolute genius of a man behave like a tsundere schoolgirl. 

It’s not like Aventurine is some paragon of seriousness either, he’s the one teasing Ratio, fucking around even in a serious mission. Yeah it’s partly because he wants Sunday to think he’s incompetent, but it’s also because Aventurine genuinely is having fun, enjoying himself before the serious part of the plan kicks in, and the meantime he does that by messing with Ratio.

Their dynamic of Aventurine messing with Ratio, and Ratio trying desperately to pretend like it doesn’t affect him is as hilarious and heartwarming as it is tragic, and that dichotomy is why I love them so much. It’s fun and it hurts so so much because their interactions being this flavor of silly leaves almost no room for the sincerity they both desperately need from one another. 

AND GOD I NEED IT TO HAPPEN. RATIO MENTAL BREAKDOWN SCENE PLEAASEEE LET HIS WALLS CRUMBLE PLEEEEAASEE PLEASE PELADE PLEASEEEE EPLES DOLS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 

They’ve gotten closer and closer and closer and soon something’s gonna snap because they are so close yet so distant and if something doesn’t change the tension is just gonna boil over AND I NEED IT TO HAPPEN. I need more Ratio scenes I need more interactions with him I need him with his guard down I need him to profess out loud that he cares about Aventurine I need him to break please he needs it, it would be so good for him. It doesn’t even have to be from Aventurine, just Ratio snapping and revealing the fucking mess he is under his facade and not being rejected by the people he cares about for it is enough.

I honestly doubt it will happen in the story though, as much as I want it to. Although Aventurine’s character demo somewhat changed my mind against this, I feel like hoyo is like “ok they get the vibe between these two we can move on” and the shippers are left to extrapolate how this relationship would go beyond what it is now. As much as I want a breakdown scene for Ratio in general, it probably wouldn’t happen in a while but devs if you are reading this PLEASEEEE. 

The only time Ratio ever gets slightly out of his element is with Aventurine but I need it to go further because god it would be interesting.

Well I’ve deemed that enough yapping about why I love Aventio (for now 😈) so let’s talk about why people hate the ship and why most of the reasons behind it a fucking stupid. (Massive disclaimer of course you can dislike it it’s just a lot of the “oh it’s a horrible ship and anyone who likes it sucks” shit isn’t grounded in reality in the slightest and I’m tired of the slander)

“Ratio was racist to Aventurine”

Now this is a spicy one because if this post was made in 2.0 I would 100% agree with you (during that time I shipped a non canon version of them in which that did not happen because how dare u do my boy like that hoyo). However 2.1 changed a lot and I mean a lot, and basically reframed the 2.0 quests for everyone.

Essentially, Ratio and Aventurine were both acting in that argument scene, making the things Ratio said to Aventurine not how he really sees him, and actively something Aventurine wanted him to say, so you cannot blame him for what he said. I’m not even joking or exaggerating, retrospectively it quite literally does not make sense if you view it in any other way, and honestly even with just the knowledge of 2.0 the scene doesn’t make sense if played straight, so let’s get to why.

a) Ratio and Racism do not mix fundamentally. Ratio is a person who believes that everyone deserves and education regardless of background, that it is a scholars duty to help others achieve that, and no matter who you are, you are capable of intelligence, learning and becoming the best version of yourself, and that those qualities are just limited to geniuses.

THIS AND RACISM DO NOT MIX. “Oh yeah education and improvement is possible for everyone except this specific group of people for some fucking reason!!” Like not only would this scene being serious contradict Ratios entire character, the man who believes people should not be judged for their educational background judging Aventurine for his educational background (that’s actually what the Sigonian upbringing line meant, it was mistranslated in the EN version)??!?!! Make it make sense.

Moreover, half this perception also come from the fact that hoyo made the incredible writing decision of naming Aventurines planet after a slur for Romani people, so unfortunately literally anytime its name, Sigonia, is brought up you’re essentially saying a slur. It’s much worse in the CN version, in EN it’s not obvious at all, because our version of the slur (it starts with a g and ends with a y that’s all the hints you’re getting), doesn’t look like the version of the slur that the name for Sigonia was derived from, which is partly the source of this misconception as I’m pretty certain most people assumed Ratio (and by extension Sparkle) said a slur elsewhere in the conversation when in reality them referring to Avens ethnicity/background/planet IS the slur.

Anyways terrible writing decisions aside, Ratio supposedly being racist doesn’t just contradict his core motivation, it contradicts his job. He’s a scholar, for fucks sake, and racism is inherently illogical. Mmm yes I’m gonna base my identity around finding truth for myself and I will believe government and social propaganda about specific groups of people! Very logical, very scholarly, we all clapped. 

So yeah, doesn’t make sense on a character level, to the point that in 2.0 I concluded that they must be using Ratio as a plot device in that scene to deliver some of Aven’s backstory to the audience due to how OOC it was for him 😭. However I wasn’t necessarily wrong, Ratio was delivering some of Aventurines backstory to AN audience (not just us), and he was behaving OOC in the 2.0 scene, but it was on purpose.

b) The betrayal plan 

Aventurine forms a plan in which him and Ratio pretend to betray one another in order to sneak the Aventurine cornerstone into the dreamscape by replacing it with the Topaz stone (red herring + black hole scene dialogue implies she and Jade are there for other reasons) and the Jade stone (perfect dupe). 

Now this betrayal hinges on Sunday, their main antagonist buying it, actually believing that Ratio would betray Aventurine on a mission as important as Penacony, and it requires Sunday also buying that he is winning the whole time, that the loss of the cornerstones was somehow a fumble on Aventurine’s end rather than something he planned all along. 

So, they stage the 2.0 conversation. Ratio yells at Aventurine for losing the cornerstones, something which was part of their plan the whole time. He then insults Aventurine’s background allowing Aventurine to reveal key details of his past that Sunday would not have learned otherwise, which he uses in the trial against Aventurine. Seriously, Aventurine only found out he was the last Avgin when he became a Stoneheart, do y’all think Sunday summoned that info with his mind or something during the trial (like do you guys genuinely think Sunday read his wiki or something)

Moreover, Ratio not only insults him, but portrays Aventurine as useless, disposable to the IPC because he is apparently already sentenced to death. Why does he do this? Well, so Sunday feels confident enough to do the same to Aventurine. Seriously, sentencing an IPC member, especially a high ranking one to death is a risky move, even for someone as convicted as Sunday, he would need the confidence to do so and learning Aven might already die would give him that ability. 

Because well, it doesn’t matter that much if he’s already going to get disposed of in the near future. I also think the IPC plans to use Aventurine’s “death” as leverage against the family because they were pleased to hear of his death sentence according to Dr. Ratio, meaning a) he likely did not have one from them at the time, although in the past he was sentenced to death and b) even if Aventurine succeeded in getting the cornerstone his seeming loss in the rest of the conversation wasn’t actually a loss at all, getting sentenced to death/“dying” at the very least was part of the plan all along as the IPC could still use it as leverage if things went south.

Continually, Ratio treating Aventurine in the exact same sh1tty way the rest of the galaxy does perfectly slots him into the arrogant, uncaring scholar role, which Sunday knows are some of the most easily manipulated people in the galaxy, considering he tries to bribe Ratio with knowledge about Stellarons it seems he bought this idea hook line and sinker. Sunday isn’t even subtle about it either “I heard you and your companion haven’t been getting along lately” where did he hear that from? Ratio didn’t tell him, and even though we know Sunday was 100% watching the two of them on their little adventure pre-meeting him (the bird and hound statues) that scene hasn’t happened yet so where did he get that from?

Some other interesting proof for it is that the Final Victor lightcone likely depicts Aventurine trying to convince Ratio of this plan of his, the events of which must occur  pre-Penacony for several reasons, the least of which being that we just never see it happen on Penacony which if you think it did we would see it. Moreover lightcones are canonically condensed memories and the Final Victor lightcone released in 2.0, meaning it’s the memory of something that happened before then. 

All signs point to the 2.0 scene, the one people use to paint Aventio as toxic being staged. And I have so much more evidence for this, (Ratio would never agree to go without a plan, Aven clearly formed his pre-Penaocny, so much of the plan like Ratio opening the cornerstone box, which he can’t do up until the betrayal as it’s in Sundays possession, rely on him arriving knowing how to do so, the time discrepancies, the complete 180 in personality Ratio would have to do to go from distrusting Aventurine to putting his whole faith in him, etc), but I will reupload one of my old slideshows to elaborate more on it. Basically the one thing that people use to say it’s toxic is not true and is in fact a greater show of the trust between those two. 

“The shippers are all weird and racist” 

Now this one actually has some truth to it because yes there are some incredibly fucking weird Aventio shippers and I do not blame yall for disliking them.

HOWEVER, most Aventio shippers are normal and hate that shit just as much as you guys do. Like do you realize most shippers also really like these characters and have something insane called morals so they don’t automatically excuse racist fujoshi goobers just because they are making content for their favorite ship. Trust me someone doing that pisses me (and most other Aventio shippers) off significantly more than people who hate the ship. Also free Ratio from this shit man poor guy is getting mischaracterized as a slaveowner by his fans and haters 😭

And like guys, have you ever been in a fandom before, like ever? Weirdos are always gonna be weird and it’s not Aventio’s fault they are this months victims. For a fun little example of how gross other fanbases can be, one of the most popular Overwatch ships on ao3 is Genji Shimada X Hanzo Shimada WHO ARE BLOOD RELATED BROTHERS. THERES LIKE 300+ FICS OF IT, SHIMADACEST IS LITERALLY A TAG ON THERE. I WAS IN THE TRENCHES SEARCHING FOR GENJI HANZO ANGST FICS (Hanzo killed Genji it’s complicated doomed siblings will always get me) AND HAVING TO COMB THROUGH THOSE ABOMINATIONS IN THE PROCESS.

Like please I’m relatively new to fandom culture but yall cannot be acting like this is weird for fans to do, it’s weirdo behavior but it is not unique to the HSR fandom or even Aventio. And even if understandably this makes you not like the ship, don’t paint the people who enjoy it as being the people who do this kinda sh1t. It’s not our fault peak gets tainted by miserable creatures ok, let normal ppl have their harmless fun and stop lumping people together into a monolith. 

?????

Well that’s it that’s all the “valid” reasons people have for hating Aventio, at least the ones I can remember. Everything else is just personal opinion and not at all an objective reason.

“They’re so sibling coded!”

Anyways again obviously you can still dislike it not everything is for everyone, I really just wanted to make this post to demonstrate why I and many others like it, and why the reasons people use to say it’s problematic are incorrect. Feel free to call it mid, block it whatever I don’t care, just don’t harass shippers for having some harmless fun, because the characters aren’t real but the people who like them are and in doing so you are really just being a jerk for no reason. If you somehow hate Aventio and read this the whole way through I congratulate you on your ability to actually listen to other people, and regardless of whether you changed your mind or not I respect you for doing so anyways. Thanks for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts. 

[lingerina]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐁𝓐𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝓦𝐒 ／ julie han

➛ g!p maid julie x fem!reader ➛ 847 words !!! adultery, creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms ➛ you have confronted your husband about checking out the maid, and now you confront the maid. ➛ A/N happy belated new year? lol i’ve been rediscovering some hobbies lately, hence writing has been on the back burner again. but i’ve updated the list of women i write for. if you have seen julie doing that part in ‘nobody knows’, then you’ll understand how i was possessed to write this. those clips have graced my tiktok fyp and ig explore page multiple times. i just had to. 😮‍💨

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

You’ve heard of the stories where a family will hire a young maid or nanny to care for the kids and the house while the parents work. Nannies aren’t needed because you don’t have kids, but you still have pets and a massive house that needs to be cared for. Hence the hiring of a maid who urgently needs some quick cash while she searches for bigger jobs.

Julie Han is a young woman straight out of college.

Straight out of a magazine too.

With the looks of a doll and the charm of a girl next door, Julie can easily have anyone wrapped around her finger.

Your cat, who’s wary of strangers, immediately took a liking to her. Your friends who have come over and met her have asked for her to watch their kids or animals as well. As envious as you are of the attention she gets, you can’t help but be one of the victims of her spell too.

You just can’t be heinous to someone who’s nice and goes the extra mile for your pets.

The stares from your husband that lingers a little too long on her don’t go unnoticed though. It’s hard to decipher Julie’s body language when she catches his gaze but you confront them separately because things will only escalate if you dismiss everything that is deemed small and insignificant. Some people masquerade their intentions well behind a blank or stone cold face, so you can never be too safe.

Your husband denies staring but Julie is more truthful.

Except you had it all wrong.

Julie’s hand is tightly clamped over your mouth, muffling your moans and cries as her cock hits in all the right places. The confrontation has led to you being shoved onto the bed and your flimsy loungewear being torn off by the woman who actually had eyes on you. You can’t risk your husband hearing the maid fucking his wife’s brains out as he’s showering right above her bedroom, but she knows how to wield what she has—a feat that he has yet to achieve. 

The guilt lingers in your chest but your cunt drips for her. The sheets are soaked in your essence, courtesy of her skillful mouth and fingers that wouldn’t stop bringing you to orgasm. The more you try to persuade her to stop, the harder she goes on you.

Because you both know that you don’t want her to stop.

The water cuts off, leaving the residence to be engulfed in silence. The smacks of hips clashing with every fervent thrust is like a pin dropping, causing the tightness in your chest and the pit of your stomach to swell. Your clammy hands clutch at the crumpled sheets beneath you, your walls closing in on her as she fucks you harder. You don’t have the conscience to stop her because god, you want this.

You need this.

She grins, her long hair curtained over your face as she hovers closer to you.

“You think I want your lame husband?,” she snickers.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your back arches.

“You clearly don’t want him either.”

There is no cue given, but her demeaning words bring you to ecstasy. Your eyes roll back when her thumb on your pulsing clit works you into overdrive. Your body spasms beneath her, tremors coursing through your limbs as you gush around her cock, further soiling the sheets. You can vaguely hear your husband calling for you in the kitchen but all you can focus on is Julie’s cock drilling you, and the filthy squelches of your cunt accepting the abuse.

Your heart rate picks up as his voice gets progressively louder but she is clearly unbothered. She has other priorities to fill.

Like you.

She buries her face in your neck. With a whine and a tremble, you shudder as warmth fills you. A shallow thrust pushes her release deeper, reaching depths that can taint and break you—just as she intends to.

You sink back into the mattress with a quiet sigh when she pulls out. Your head feels at the mess that you’ve both caused—figuratively and literally. 

The man that you have sworn your heart and life to is on the other side of the door, never expecting his wife to cheat on him with their maid. You have committed the very act that you swore you would raise hell about, and a part of you feels shameful about the hypocrisy.

On the other hand, Julie is proud of her work. She grins as her cum seeps out of you: a testament to prove that the man is not always wanted.

“You don’t need him,” she taunts as she slides back into you, harder than ever.

Your eyes widen as she raises your legs and folds them over your chest, testing your flexibility.

“This pretty pussy is mine.”

Your mouth falls open after she bottoms out.

“And she clearly agrees.”

Weak. Shameful. Needy. 

You can’t argue with her. You can only accept that you’re terribly wrong.

[reminiscingtonight]

Eras Of Us

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Had to write something based on Fletcher's Eras of Us

Part Two

[WOSO Masterlist]

You never thought you’d see her again.

Standing in a crowded room, surrounded by your new teammates, there she is. Her hair seems a little blonder, crinkles by her eyes now when she smiles.

“How are you doing--”

“Where have you been--”

It’s quiet as the two of you stare at each other. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest but all you can focus on is the slight twitch at the corner of Alessia’s mouth.

You and Alessia start laughing at the same time. 

Alessia’s shaking her head, finding humor in your synchronized questions while you’re wiping at the tears at the corner of your eyes. 

You can see Lotte watching the two of you from across the room, hell you can see most of the other girls watching you guys interact with intrigue, but all you can focus on is Alessia.

Alessia Russo, England’s stargirl and Arsenal’s new striker. 

Once upon a time she was the girl of your dreams, but there’s no mistaking who she is now.

Alessia Russo, the one who got away.

---

It seems so long ago when you first met Alessia. 

She was still brunette then, back when she first joined North Carolina. You remember strolling into the locker room that first day, instantly clocking the two shy brunettes nervously fidgeting near your locker. 

They looked shocked when you politely asked if they could move, the slightly shorter one standing right in front of your locker.

The first thing you noticed was her English accent as a slew of apologies came flying out, the younger girl’s face steadily turning redder and redder with embarrassment as the seconds ticked by. It wasn’t until you placed a hand on her arm that her mouth snapped shut, eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry about it. Is this your guys’ first year here?” The question was rhetorical. You knew the roster of the team like the back of your hand.

Alessia Russo and Lotte Wubben-Moy, two of England’s most promising rising stars. You would be lying if you said the blue-eyed girl didn’t intrigue you more than the other. The truth was, ever since receiving the updated roster from your coach a couple weeks ago all you could think about was the English girl. You’ve seen the videos, watched her skills for hours on end. She’d be a good addition to the team, but there was definitely a more personal reason as to why you found her so captivating.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

The sparkle in her eyes as Alessia shook your hand told you everything you needed to know. 

When a mistimed tackle in practice later that day led to the taller girl pressed tight on top of you, you’re unable to stop your brain from going there. 

She’s had a wide doe-eyed look on her face all day but now the panic was back. Alessia scrambled to get off of you but you couldn’t stop the bubbly laugh from leaving your lips. 

There was a toothy grin on your face when she risked another look back down at you. 

“Well this is one way to say hello.”

Alessia flushed red when you winked and right there, right when she offered you a hand to get back onto your feet, you knew you were hooked. 

And just like a movie, Alessia Russo became a drug you could never get enough of. 

---

“Maybe the Courage will draft me.”

Alessia was tucked into your side, teary-eyed as you tried your best to reassure her. The two of you had been dating close to a year when your career after college started becoming more and more like a reality. Like something that could actually happen.

Playing in the NWSL was a no brainer. Soccer was your life, had been ever since you could remember being able to walk. Your goal was always to make it big. To play for a great club and to represent your country at an international level. But now you had other people to think about. You had Alessia to think about.

Just the thought of not being near her made your heart ache.

Call it young, dumb love, but it was what it was. You loved Alessia and didn’t want to be anywhere she wasn’t.

Alessia was there to hold your hand when it was announced that you were being drafted to Seattle. She hugged you before you went up to the stage, was there to take pictures with you after. 

“It’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.”

She kissed you goodbye at the airport, the first of many trips you’d take between North Carolina and Washington. 

Settling into life as a professional soccer player was hard. Your teammates could only do so much to help distract you from missing your girlfriend. You and Alessia facetimed as much as possible, taking turns flying to see one another between both of your busy schedules.

It was hard but the two of you made it work.

And then the pandemic struck.

Your season ended before it could really start and suddenly you found yourselves stuck on opposite sides of the country. 

“I’m going back to England.”

You hadn’t been able to physically see or touch Alessia for almost half of a year when she dropped the news. There was no denying the way the blood all but drained from your face. 

Alessia was nervous, you could tell by the way she was chewing on her lip through the screen, and right there, right in that moment, you wished for nothing more than to be able to be next to her. To hug her, to kiss her. To tell her everything would be alright. 

You weren’t sure if everything would be alright.

But you told her it would be. With tears falling down both of your cheeks, with the uncertainty of your future hanging over both of your heads, you promised each other the same thing as before. 

“It’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.”

---

You and Alessia broke up before the year ended.

---

The answer was clear when Arsenal approached you with an offer.

Your childhood bedroom was decorated wall-to-wall with gunner memorabilia, your love for the North London team clear as day to everyone who knew you. 

You’ve been playing in Seattle for all of your career so far, but Laura understood your desire for something more. 

Leaving the team was hard. Especially more so since it was still the middle of the season at that point. But you couldn’t deny that a part of you was excited for the change. 

It was hard to ignore the notification that seemed to engrave itself into your brain the second you saw it. 

[alessiarusso99 liked your post]

You thought you were seeing things when it first popped up. It seemed fitting to post about your move overseas with a picture of you dressed in your new jersey, but never would you have thought Alessia would react to it. 

Especially since the two of you hadn’t talked once or interacted with each other since the break up three years ago.

But then you saw the news a couple days later.

Alessia Russo Signs With Arsenal.

Of course you heard the rumors. Of the clear rift between the Manchester United striker and her club. 

You heard the rumors but you didn’t know if they were true. 

Now you did.

Alessia was headed to the gunners and so were you, and for the first time in years you were going to see her again. 

---

You look up when you feel the soft nudge at your knee. 

Alessia’s looking down at you, fingers nervously playing with her top. 

You can’t stop your eyes from roving over the younger girl. It’s like no time has passed since you last saw her in person. 

You thought you were over Alessia, that the sting of your heartbreak had long faded. 

But standing here, finally face to face with Alessia, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Suddenly it was like you were 23 again, throwing your phone across the room in a fit of anger after Alessia hung up the phone with you. The sting of countless missed facetimes haunted your dreams as you woke up to a dark room and even darker realization that the English girl was no longer yours. It was both of your faults that things bubbled over enough for Alessia to finally call things off, but a part of you, still deeply in love with her, wanted to paint Alessia out as the villain. 

So yes, there was hurt. But you couldn’t deny the love that you still felt as well. 

Because then you were back in college again, bringing flowers for Alessia as you nervously asked her out on your first date. The ghost of Alessia playing with the babyhairs near your neck as she cuddled you to sleep burned deep into your skin. Your heart sang when you stole quick kisses from her minutes before hopping back onto the plane that took you back to Seattle.

You’re starting over at a new team in a new country but it feels like nothing has changed.

Alessia Russo still had a firm grip on your heart. 

And you’re not sure if you would have it any other way.  

You smile at her.

Alessia smiles back. 

“How are you doing?”

[jqngkooz]

tis the damn season’ (2) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+ (no smut in this chapter just a makeout scene 🙈)

genre: f2l? more like idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut

warnings: infidelity and just general bad decision making skills lmao, jealousy, arguing, swearing, one mention of a dick, kissing, making out. jk’s a bit of a player but he has his reasons.

w/c: 3.2k

a/n: pt.2 is here!!!! so sorry it took a while. enjoy :)

summary: When Jimin convinces you to spend christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your entire friend group, you’re forced to face the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for your best friend Jungkook after all these years.

“I must say, you’re the most stable person I know and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you crumble like this.” Yoongi is kind enough to be up at 6 am with Jungkook, making him coffee as he sits at the kitchen island with his head on the cold surface.

He spent the whole night tossing and turning next to the girl he’d stupidly invited in an attempt to not seem like a loser to you. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same way, that was evident by the fact that you almost married another man and still didn’t even reach out when you broke the engagement off. He just didn’t want you to think he was a loser who had spent the last three months sulking. He had.

“I know, I’m a mess,” Jungkook starts, face pressed into the table, “and she’s nice, Isabelle I mean, and I like her…”

Yoongi places the cup of coffee next to Jungkook and finishes his sentence for him, “But she’s not y/n.”

It’s weird. In senior year Jungkook had gotten a girlfriend. She was a cheerleader with a swishy ponytail that had latched onto your friend group, always wanting to be around him. You’d gotten weirdly distant at that time, cancelling your after-school study sessions only for him to find out you were doing them with Jimin instead. It’s like sometimes he got the feeling that you didn’t want him to be with other people and that gave him hope that you might have felt the same, but you never told him. No angry love confessions in the rain, nothing. You never made a move. And it messed with his head until he felt dizzy and utterly confused about just what the hell you wanted.

“Did you invite her here just to make y/n jealous?” Namjoon’s voice booms a little too loud as he comes down the stairs and into the kitchen, causing Jungkook to sit up and wince.

He sighs, “Yes, well- no not exactly.”

“Then why?”

He looks up at Namjoon who looks slightly disappointed and his heart pangs a little, suddenly feeling like that 15-year-old who would do anything for Joon’s approval again.

He groans, “I thought she’d be mad and ignore me or something.”

Namjoon shakes his head, he knows you would never.

“I just thought if I brought another girl she’d think that I moved on and we could just go back to being normal again.”

Jungkook looks up at Yoongi as if he’s checking for approval, he’s met with a very disapproving stare. Yoongi sighs, “Jungkook, are you stupid?”

He frowns, big round eyes staring at Yoongi. “No?” Maybe he was, waiting 10 years to tell you he loved you when it was far too late was kind of stupid.

“She loves you, you realise that right?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yeah I know b-”

Yoongi cuts him off, “No, not as a friend idiot. She loves you.” He shakes his head rapidly.

“You know she messaged me every week asking how you were after you fell out? She made me send pictures of you and Bam because she missed you. Jungkook, you put her in an awkward situation, she was engaged. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t feel the same way. You never asked her how she felt, did you?”

Taehyung knows Jungkook like the back of his hand. He knows that his guilty pleasure is chilli cheese fries, he remembers a time in college when that was all he ate for an entire week. He knows that Jungkook unwinds on a weekend by watching crappy reality tv because he caught him one time before he could change the channel. He also knows that Jungkook doesn’t like losing. And that’s how he knows this plan will work.

Truthfully, Tae has always been flirty with you. He’s flirty with everyone, but you usually laugh him off, never taking his compliments seriously. That’s why Jungkook’s a little confused at your sudden interest in him. All day you’ve been clinging to him and laughing at his jokes like he’s the funniest guy in the world. Jungkook knows he’s not that funny. Even now as you all attempt to build snowmen in the cabin’s garden you both look like something out of a hallmark movie, all bundled up with hats and scarves as you throw snowballs at each other.

It’s Seokjin who notices Jungkook’s frown as he stands next to his snowman watching you and Tae.

“Why is your snowman buff?”

Jungkook breaks his gaze away from you two, turning to Seokjin. He can still hear your giggles as Tae shoves snow down the back of your coat and chases you with another lump of it that’s probably big enough to knock you out.

He shrugs, “Wanted it to look like me. Why does yours have a dick?”

“Wanted it to look like me.” Seokjin remarks, eliciting probably Jungkook’s first smile today. “What’s got you all frowny?”

Jungkook shakes his head, the tassels on his woolly hat shaking with him, “Ah, nothing.”

“Does that ‘nothing’ have to do with those two?”

Now his attention’s back on you again. You’re far too close to Taehyung’s face, brushing snow off of his cheeks and apologising, saying you hadn’t meant to actually get him in the face.

“Just didn’t know they were that close.”

“They’re not usually.”

It’s when you come jogging towards Jungkook and Seokjin that the conversation stops. You’re a little out of breath from all the running as you stand in front of them, admiring Jungkook’s snowman with a smile.

“Always the perfectionist. Mine’s already fallen apart. How is yours so stable?” You laugh.

“I dunno.” He answers, unusually sharply and it has you turning to look at him with a cock of your head.

“Everything okay?”

That’s Seokjin’s cue to leave and he busies himself with trying to kick Jimin’s work of art down.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” He doesn’t know where to look and settles on his shoes. At least they’re not boring into his soul like your eyes are right now.

“Okay yeah, I don’t know. Just checking.” You smile again as if you truly have no idea why he seems upset. Of course you do, yours and Tae’s whole act is painfully obvious to everyone else in the cabin, but Jungkook isn’t exactly the most rational thinker when it comes to you. “Where’s Isabelle?”

“Oh, she’s uh, inside. She doesn’t like snow.”

You frown, “Who doesn’t like snow?”

He shrugs, finally looking up at you.

“I think my toes are gonna freeze off if I’m out here any longer. I’m gonna go warm up so I’ll check up on her.” You add.

No. That’s the worst thing that could happen. You and Isabelle alone? Talking? She’d surely tell you that she wasn’t actually Jungkook’s girlfriend, just a casual hook-up and that she has no real idea why he invited her. He shudders at the thought.

“So you’re not dating?”

Once you’d pressed yourself up against the heater until your fingers gained some colour again and double-layered on fresh socks, you padded down the stairs to find Isabelle sitting on the couch alone.

“No. He made it very clear it was nothing more than sex for him, which is fine, but I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore, in life you know?”

You nod. Isabelle is lovely, she’s sweet and gentle and you’re sure you would have been friends in another life if she wasn’t fucking the guy you’d been pining over for years.

“And I guess I’m a little confused. When I brought up getting more serious he avoided the conversation and things got awkward. Then he invites me here, it’s all a little confusing. I don’t wanna talk badly about him, I know he’s your best friend and he’s a great guy but- I feel like he’s messing with me.”

“Isabelle, this is our first conversation and I can already tell how good of a person you are. I care about Jungkook too but you’d be crazy to think that hook-ups are all you deserve,” You sigh, “If you want something more, go and find someone willing to give you that.”

And you truly mean that. Sure, you’d had conversations with his past girlfriends like this, and maybe those times you had an ulterior motive when you advised them to go and find someone else, but seeing her sit in front of you so vulnerable, you mean it this time.

She nods, “I’m well into my 20’s, I’ve never had a serious relationship and I want it. I want kids one day. I want it all. How do you do it?”

That makes you laugh.

“Not very successfully. I was engaged, for a while. I broke it off a few months ago. He was a nice guy, he was stable and he was always there, but I never had that feeling you know? That teenage excitement. I never felt that with him.”

Well, that’s not entirely untrue. He never did give you that electric feeling that you’ve always been searching for, you just leave out that only Jungkook seems to give it to you. You’d had endless arguments with Mark where he’d pressed you to just tell him why you weren’t putting your whole heart into it. He could always tell that he was far more invested than you were, and he knew the reason why. He knew exactly what, or who, was stopping you from fully committing to him. He hadn’t blamed you as you left him, he understood that you just don’t pick who you love.

When everyone starts piling in from the garden, you excuse yourself into helping an almost frozen Taehyung warm up.

Jungkook can’t bear the sight. You carefully take off Tae’s hat and scarf as you rub his arms in an attempt to warm him up while he watches you far too lovingly. He’d rather retreat upstairs to his room and let his head spin with the image of you and Tae and the worry of what you and Isabelle had been talking about while he slips further and further into madness. He doesn’t expect you to follow though, bumping into you in the hallway.

“Hey,” you start, “can we talk?”

“About what?” He’s still pulling on a fresh sweater as you stand in front of him in the quiet hallway. All the noise of the house is coming from downstairs and he worries you can hear his heartbeat in the quiet up here.

“What are you doing with Isabelle?”

That catches him off guard and he frowns down at you. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair messing with her like that? I’m only saying this as your friend, she’s such a nice girl. What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating?”

You cross your arms. It’s one of his more frustrating traits, pretending he doesn’t understand when he doesn’t want to talk about something.

“Jungkook.” You deadpan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t understand why you’re interfering with my love life. I don’t know what she said to you but what we have right now is working perfectly fine.”

You scoff, loudly. How very rich of him, to criticise you for interfering when that’s all he’s done to you your whole life, interfere with every guy you’ve ever liked. “Seriously? You wanna talk about interfering?”

He laughs dryly, looking away from you. He knows you’re right. All he can do is attempt to deflect.

“I didn’t interfere with you and Mark. I never did, I told you how I felt. It’s different.”

“What and you think I was able to just carry on after that confession? You think I brushed that off like it was nothing?”

“Sure seemed like it.”

Now he’s just being hurtful, and he knows it. He can see it in your eyes. Whenever he’s mean to you, you get a look. Eyes glossy and eyebrows peaked in confusion.

“That’s not fair Jungkook.”

“What’s fair about any of this?” His voice is louder now and you pray everyone downstairs isn’t listening in on the conversation, especially not the girl he brought here. “What was fair about you turning me away that night? Do you think it was easy for me to see you with him? It was fucking horrible, okay? I hated every second you were with him. Now today you’re hanging off of Tae’s arm. So excuse me if I’m not being fair, I’m not exactly having a nice time right now.”

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you mentally scold yourself for being so damn emotional. You know he can see right through you right now. He stands with a hand on his hip, looking like he’s mad at you and you hate it. You hate it so much that your face tells him just how much you hate it.

He continues, a little softer this time, “I just mean that maybe I’m not exactly over what happened, okay? You didn’t even hear me out. You dropped me from your life. That’s hard to get over and I’m- I don’t know.”

“I had to drop you Jungkook. There was no chance of me having a successful relationship with you in my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re exasperated now, frustrated that you have to spell everything out for him. This time your voice is louder. “God, every single boyfriend I’ve ever had has hated you. You have literally ruined all of my relationships and you don’t even realise it. I couldn’t physically bring myself to commit to anybody with you looming over me, always like a damn question mark in my head, okay?”

Truthfully, he had no idea you felt like that. He’s always been pretty poor at picking up on hints and cues and he completely missed that. He always felt that you meant so much more to him than he meant to you. You went about your life and your relationships just fine while he sat at home and yearned for you, that’s what he had thought up until now.

“What?” Is all he can manage.

“How am I supposed to be with other people when you’re always a possibility? As soon as I think I’m finally over you, you come back and-”

“Over me?” He steps towards you, like a reflex at your words. “What do you mean over me?”

“You know what I mean.” You’re practically whispering now. It’s somehow embarrassing to be so vulnerable and you feel even more sympathy towards the Jungkook who turned up at your door and confessed to you now that you’re in his place.

“You never even told me you liked me, now you’re telling me you’re over me?”

“How could I tell you Jungkook? I was engaged.”

His head is a complete mess, spinning and cartwheeling.

“You’re telling me that that night, when I told you I loved you, you didn’t turn me away because you didn’t feel the same?”

“No!” You shake your head, “I thought it was so obvious, how was it not obvious to you? I turned you away because breaking one guy's heart was easier than breaking two. If I told you I felt the same, Mark would have left. That’s why I had to leave him because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair being with him when I’m in love with someone else, okay?”

He’s completely silent. Just staring down at you. There’s a lot he wants to say, years and years worth of things, but his brain can’t even string two words together. Maybe he is stupid, but he never thought that you felt the same. Of course, he considered it a possibility, but a far-fetched one. Hearing you say that you love him doesn’t even feel real, he’s not even sure if he’s awake right now.

“You love me?”

“Yes. And you’ve moved on and I know that’s my fault because I missed my chance to tell you I felt the same but-”

He cuts off your rambling, “I haven’t. Moved on I mean. Not at all.”

“You invited a girl. Obviously, you have, and that’s fine.”

Now he has that desperate look again, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes dart across your face. “We’re not serious. I’m in love with someone else.”

It’s your turn for your head to spin. Sure, he’d said it once before, but you never expected he’d still feel the same way. It’s weird, how you two always seem to pull together. No matter how bad of a time it is, it’s like you can’t stay away from each other. Even now with your faces inches apart, you’re spiked with the horrible feeling that you’re doing something bad. Even if he’s not serious with her, it’s not right for her to be sitting downstairs while he’s up here with you, yet again confessing his love.

“What’s going on with you and Taehyung?” He says quietly.

You reply far too quickly, “Nothing. Was trying to make you jealous.”

That’s enough for him and he steps impossibly closer again. He sucks in a sharp breath, looking down at your face as if he’s weighing up whether or not this is a bad decision. The little devil on his shoulder wins because he’s grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. It’s hungry and desperate the way he kisses you like he can’t bear not being on your lips for a second longer. You melt into him as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. You can taste just how sweet this moment is and you savour every second of his vulnerability.

“Bad idea” You mumble onto his lips as his hands move from your face to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you flush against him.

“Don’t care.” He replies, pulling back for a second to catch his breath. You pull him back in, afraid that if he has even a second to think this through you might lose him, but he kisses like he wouldn’t dream of letting you go. He lets none of you go to waste and it’s a dance of tangled breaths as he finally softens, slowing down a little. He pulls away again, looking at you for a while before planting a small kiss on your mouth, pulls away, and plants another one. You feel winded, you’re out of breath, your lips a little swollen and your chest heaves slowly with an endearing warmth that you swear you’ve never felt before. It’s Jimin calling your name from the bottom of the stairs that makes you both jump and pull away from each other.

“We should probably go down.” He breathes out, scratching the back of his head. It’s so charming, how he kisses you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have and almost immediately regresses into his shy self the minute he pulls away. His cheeks are dusted red and his lips are covered with your pink, smudged around his mouth and down his chin a little.

“You have lipstick all over you.” You point out, giggling quietly.

“Oh shit. Get it off.”

[twiisted-king]

⊙ THE SPOT BF HC’s ⊙

➟ The Spot / Jonathan Ohnn X GN!Reader 🕳️

➟ NSFW / SFW ( he has such raw sex appeal )

➟ TW : Insecurities, Workplace Abuse, Body Image, SEX, & Murder :)

————————————————————————

⊙ PRE-COLLIDER

— Jonathan is PAINFULLY average.

— Sure his colleagues like him and he has a good standing with his superiors, But he just doesn’t have a lot going for him.

— Which is why he wonders why an angel like you loves him so much.

— He enjoys the domesticity of y’all’s relationship when he isn’t stuck at the lab or doing scientific research. Like make the man a nice home cooked meal and take a shower with him, it makes him happy beyond belief.

— He has quips. Jonathan just loves making you laugh and he’s actually pretty good at laughing at himself whenever he does something stupid. He knows you won’t judge him.

— Kind of obsessed? Besides work, you are all he thinks about and focuses on. He has plans for the future of your relationship ( MARRIAGE ).

— He’s the type of person to keep a picture of you on his desk.

— Adding onto the obsessed part, he can be possessive. I feel like that’s a given with him.

— Jonathan is insecure. He knows that there are a lot of more attractive, cooler people out there and he worries that he’ll fuck up one day and you’ll leave him. Please comfort him.

— Arguments are few and far between. He’s good at resolving whatever issues that may come up with good ol’ communication.

— He keeps you as far away from his work life as possible. He NEVER EVER wants you to get caught up in the messes that are his projects and he knows just how dangerous working with physics is. Plus Wilson Fisk might use you as leverage to get Jonathan to do what he wants.

— sex time boys :)

— You wanna have sex .. WITH HIM!? That’s kind of his instant reaction though he isn’t opposed.

— I don’t think he’s a virgin, But he’s not the most experienced. He might’ve had a few partners in college though that’s about it. I’m sure he had a few admirers at Alchemax though he was far too busy with working to care plus he had you.

— I don’t think he has a preference for who is dominant and submissive. If you want to edge him until he cries that’s cool! But he’s also chill with taking the lead and fucking you into submission.

— This man is PACKIN’. You can disagree with me all you want, But it’s always the dorky ones that have the most dick. He probably thought that he wasn’t big since he’s since all of these videos talking about how “ 6 inches isn’t big enough yadi yada “. So he was incredibly nervous taking his pants off the first time and he just sorta held his breath, waiting for a reaction of disappointment. He ended up being pleasantly surprised in the end of and was more than happy to shove his dick down your throat.

— His dick is skinnier than it is thick. Poor dude has an INCREDIBLY sensitive head and a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft.

— Prefers positions where he can see your face. He thinks eyes are the windows to the soul and being able to focus on your expressions makes sex 100X more enjoyable.

— SIT ON THIS MANS FACE. Force him to take all of you inside his mouth and then ride his nose until you’re seeing stars.

— Jonathan let’s out the pathetic noises. He’ll whine, whimper, moan, etc.

————————————————————————

⊙ POST-COLLIDER

— honey, you’ve got a big storm comin’

— He becomes almost 1,000X more clingy and loving.

— He’s absolutely horrified at what happened to him and feels like he’s a burden to you now. He can’t even kiss you for god’s sake!

— Spot will get steal gifts for you in an effort to make up for having to date an idiot like him. He’s much more withdrawn and silent though he’s still prone to using humor as a coping skill.

— Once he realizes that you aren’t going to leave him is probably when he resorts to crime. He would never leave you as the main breadwinner no matter how much you can provide for y’all and will do whatever he can to make sure you are well cared for.

— He’ll never allow you to go out with him when he’s committing crimes. If you were to get hurt or worse ( ahem die ) he would probably never forgive himself.

— You are now his world and he must protect his world at all cost.

— He’s become even more obsessed with your face now that he doesn’t have a proper one. Kissing is a little awkward, But he still appreciates that you’re willing to be affectionate with him.

— You can be curious about his spots, But don’t expect him to let you go through one. It’s already difficult enough for him to control them and he doesn’t want to send you to a whole other universe.

— He has become much more confident as The Spot. He’ll make big risky choices and no longer wants to be a doormat. Arguments are still uncommon though he isn’t afraid to defend the crimes he commits because at the end of the day it’s all for you.

— Being a interdimensional criminal isn’t the most ideal job, But it all comes back to his love for you and don’t ever forget that.

— Has told you to “ Come check out his hole “ a couple of times whenever he figures out his powers, he is definitely aware of how dirty he makes it sound.

— time to get down and dirty in Jonathan’s holes :)

— For starters, he didn’t LOSE his dick it’s just kind of chilling in a void pocket. Go read Spotless on AO3, The Spot actually has a dick in that fic in a way that makes sense.

— He’s grateful you still want to be intimate with him. He can be a little awkward sometimes though he makes up for it.

— Becoming a supervillain has made this man an absolutely menace in bed. He’ll overstimulate and edge you to make sure you remember he isn’t just some lowlife scientist anymore.

— Jonathan’s rougher and manhandles you, forcing you into whatever position he wants.

— It’s a little silly if you imagine it with his regular voice ngl, BUT THE MEAN VOICE? oh my god.

— Repeats phrases like “ mine “ whenever he fucks you and let’s out this raspy little laugh whenever you tell him it’s too much.

— It’s a little pointless for you to pleasure him now so he solely focuses on you. Plus it’s a way for him to blow off steam after a fight with Miles.

— Could you have sex with one of his holes? Does he even feel pleasure anymore? I have many questions that I will ignore for the sake of fanfiction.

— Imagine getting choked by this dude?

— This motherfucker definitely still whimpers though as The Spot and you can’t tell me otherwise.

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part two)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You’re at the library the next morning, enjoying how quiet campus is on a Saturday. You’re trying to focus on a discussion board you need to respond in, but your mind is elsewhere.

You can’t believe you agreed to Rafe’s idea. But you don’t regret it. He may be a jerk through and through, but he’s surprisingly a really good listener in bed.

You’re pretty sure he gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had with someone. While it was an awkward challenge guiding him, you realized how liberating it was getting exactly what you wanted instead of quietly hoping the guy you were with knew what to do.

Your phone buzzes and lights up with a text. It’s 9:44 am and the notification is from Rafe.

Rafe: if you ever want practice sucking dick let me know

You flush and instinctually look around to make sure nobody in the barren library can see your screen. You reply: good morning to you too.

You take a second and send another message. The thought of going down on him rouses you. And, of course, the feedback will be helpful.

You: might take you up on that

Rafe: might?

You: might :)

Rafe is lying in bed, nursing a minor hangover. When he thinks about what happened on the other side of the wall in your room last night, he gets turned on all over again.

Feeling you cum around his fingers was fucking amazing. Knowing he did that to you, made you shake like that, was like an achievement. And he wants to keep doing it.

He texts you: we’re having a party on the beach today. bring friends

Rafe’s brand new to the frat, but he has already learned how important it is to invite as many people as he can to events. And if he’s being honest, he really wants to see you again.

You: only if you dont hit on them. i cant subject them to that

He feels his lips quirk up in a smile. When you don’t have a stick up your ass, you’re actually kind of entertaining.

Rafe: wtf why

You: you’re a fuckboy

Rafe: nahh you said i was amazing

You: i said the sex was amazing. and thats only because i told you what to do

Rafe: you can’t take all the credit

You: watch me

Rafe: you’re annoying

You: YOU’RE annoying

You: send me the address and time for the party

He quickly sends you the details.

This is the best idea he’s ever had. No strings attached sex with a hot girl who has zero interest in a relationship and can be brutally honest with him. He gets to fuck and improve his skills. It’s a dream.

Later that afternoon, Rafe watches the setting sun as he hangs out with a couple of his frat brothers in the sand. The party’s slowly starting to fill up, conversations growing in volume over the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

“We don’t host a lot of parties here,” Blake continues to explain to Rafe.

Blake’s a sophomore legacy and Rafe has slowly realized that he sort of looks up to him. He’s involved in the frat and seems to know everybody.

“It’s ‘cause it’s impossible to get people to pay cover, so we don’t even ask for it,” Blake says.

“No door to do it at,” Sam, another sophomore adds with a laugh. Blake looks back and shakes his head.

“Fun police is here,” he hollers. Rafe turns to see pacing towards the keg next to the same girl he saw you with last night.

His pulse quickens as he takes you in. Your shorts are barely covering anything. Damn.

You glare at Blake as you pick up a red solo cup.

“Kidding,” Blake says. “We were kinda being assholes the other night, weren’t we?”

Your lips twist into a small smile. Rafe isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like you looking at Blake like that.

He didn’t mention to anyone that you two hooked up last night. No particular reason - it just didn’t come up. But clearly, he’ll have to fill the guys in later. They need to know you’re off limits.

“Thanks for admitting it,” you say, filling up your cup. “Why can’t you be my neighbor?”

You look over at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched. Him and that temper. Admittedly, you’re already kind of sexually frustrated over how good he looks in his tank top, his big biceps exposed.

“Life’s unfair,” Blake replies with a bigger grin. You return it. It makes Rafe’s blood run hot.

“I guess it is,” you say as your friend finishes filling up her cup.

You walk away and Rafe realizes he didn’t exchange a single word with you. The second you’re out of earshot, he leans towards his buddies.

“I’m hooking up with her,” he tells them.

“Your neighbor?” Sam laughs. “Cap. That chick hates you.”

Rafe almost tells him not to call you a chick because of your advice last night. Wow. He really is learning from you.

“Didn’t hate me last night.” He takes a sip of his beer.

“Wait, for real?” Blake asks.

“Yeah.” Rafe loves the confidence high he’s riding right now.

“How was it?” Blake asks.

Rafe decides to lie. Painting it as a boring experience will make his buddies lose any interest they might have in you.

“Fine,” he says casually. Yeah, right. It was incredible.

Rafe watches Blake turn, surely to check you out.

“She’s cute,” Blake mumbles.

“Bro code, man,” Sam says, slapping his friend’s chest. Rafe is kind of relieved he said that.

“Shit, my bad,” Blake says with a chuckle, looking at Rafe. “You like her?”

“Oh - no,” Rafe laughs. “No.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I talked to her, right?” Blake says it as more of a statement than a question.

Rafe realizes he shouldn’t care. This whole arrangement is so both of you can get better at sex with other people. He doesn’t know what got into him thinking you owed him loyalty. His impulse to be possessive serves no purpose here.

“Go for it,” Rafe says.

Dusk falls as you stand in a crowd with Liv, your feet sunken into the sand as you drink and chat.

You told her about your arrangement with Rafe and were surprised to hear how jealous she was, mentioning how rare it is to find a guy who cares about giving his girl an orgasm.

You had to clarify to her it’s because Rafe’s ego needs all the stroking it can get, especially in the bedroom. And that you are not his girl.

You know it’s a crazy situation to be in with someone, but it’s worth it. You’ll learn what you can from him, and he’ll do the same with you, and then you’ll use what you picked up with people you actually like.

As the night goes on, the crowd gets bigger and closer together. It’s dark at this point, the moon covered with clouds.

Rafe’s been looking at you all night, at your bare legs, thinking about how he had his mouth between them last night.

You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. When you pull it out, you see a text from Rafe: you ever fucked in a car? or are you too scared lol

You look up to meet his gaze from eight feet away at most, shaking your head in incredulity as he smirks at you.

The abruptness of his message, the promise of doing something so outside your comfort zone, is thrilling. But still, you just have to mess with him.

You reply: too scared :( no thanks

You laugh at the way Rafe’s face contorts at his phone. He looks up at you.

You text again: jk let’s go

He flashes his middle finger to you and you return the gesture. He then cocks his head behind him to signal you to follow.

“Tip for you,” you say when you approach him, walking away from the crowd together. “Don’t flip off a girl you’re trying to fuck.”

“Is that not good foreplay?” Rafe asks with a smirk.

“Aw, did I teach you that word?” you say.

“I knew it before.”

“Sure,” you say. “Just like you knew that girls fake it.”

“You’re annoying,” he groans, amusement in his tone.

“You’re annoying” you say, echoing your text conversation from earlier. You playfully shove his shoulder. He hardly budges.

You approach the parking lot and Rafe pulls out keys to remotely unlock his car.

“Get in,” he says, stopping in front of a large black SUV and opening the right backseat door. You notice the luxury brand immediately.

“This is your car?”

“Got a motorcycle, too,” he replies smugly.

“It makes so much sense now.”

“What?”

“You’re rich,” you realize. Rafe shrugs in such a pompous way.

“And?”

“That’s why you’re so…” you begin. What’s the right word? Entitled? Arrogant? Shameless? “You.”

Rafe scoffs at you, unsure of how to take the comment and unsure if he should even care as you settle in his car. He ambles in behind you, settling on the leather seat and shutting the door.

You don’t feel shy to initiate like you did last night. You straddle him, immediately locking lips, feeling him freeze in what you think is surprise before his hands drag over your hips.

Rafe really wants to grab your ass but he remembers you telling him he shouldn’t jump right to groping.

He tastes like beer and he smells like cologne as you deepen the kiss, weaving your lips together. He dips his tongue into your mouth and your noses nudge together, wet lips smacking in his dark, quiet car.

He shuffles under you, the leather squeaking, allowing you to feel his hard-on between your legs, his hands finally wandering over your ass and gripping hard. Lust burns in your stomach.

Your mind drifts back to what he texted you this morning. You’ve been thinking about it all day. You sit back, unable to see much of Rafe in the darkness, but enough to see that his eyes are half-closed, drunk off the feeling.

“I wanna practice…” you say, stroking him over his shorts. “You know.”

“Say it,” Rafe coaches, his dimples caving into his cheeks. You roll your eyes. Right. This is why you’re doing this. To stop being so reserved.

“Sucking dick,” you finally say. Hearing and watching you as your words spill out of your mouth makes his skin prickle with excitement.

“My turn to teach you, huh?” Rafe’s voice is deep and husky, dripping with desire. You nod, your bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you continue to stroke him.

“Should I keep doing this?” you ask, palming him.

“You got it, baby,” he rasps lazily. “Touch it before you put it in your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you half-chuckle. Rafe smirks. He knows you love his dirty talk.

“You can talk, too,” he encourages. “Try it.”

You twist your lips in apprehension, but push yourself past your comfort zone.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” you admit, goosebumps blooming across your skin. “About how your cock is gonna feel down my throat.”

“Goddamn,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass tighter. How’d he get so lucky to be here right now? “That’s good.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, gratified. You unbutton his shorts and pull down his zipper.

“You liked the way it felt inside you last night, didn’t you?” he asks. He shifts to give you the space to pull down his shorts and boxers.

You watch him shut his eyes in pleasure as you wrap your bare hand around him, no fabric in the way anymore.

“I loved it,” you whisper, giving into the impulse to kiss him again. When your thumb rubs over the bead of warm precum on the head of his cock, he bites your bottom lip.

You move to position your head at his groin, your knees on the carpeted floor of his car. You lean forward, slowly putting your lips around the tip, feeling just how wet your panties are when you taste him.

“Shit,” he shudders. You slightly raise your head to dribble spit onto his thick cock, bringing your hand up to rub the moisture over his length.

“Sit up,” Rafe says. “I wanna watch you spit on it again.”

You straighten and the sight of your line of saliva dropping from your mouth to his dick makes Rafe feel like he might go crazy.

His cock is slick now, your hand sliding up and down it easily.

“Should I use both hands?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he huffs. You nod, both your palms rubbing over his girth, cupping and twisting.

He’s about to tell you to start using your mouth, but you drop a hand, leaving the other at his base, and take him in.

Your hot, wet mouth feels unbelievable. You start to suck and slide over him nicely, leaning up and down.

“Squeeze harder,” he instructs, and you nod with his cock still in your mouth, your hold stiffening at his base. You’d assume gripping this tight would hurt, but this is why you’re doing this with him. To learn.

You take a little more of him with every dip of your head, lips locked as spit dribbles down your chin. The sound of your slurping is fucking amazing to him. Your tongue twists and curls as you move.

“Keep using your tongue like that,” Rafe says to you, his words whispered and rushed. “And take as much of my cock as you can. Try to take all of it.”

You nod again, pushing down, gagging but reaching all of him, your nose touching his toned stomach.

“Fuck, yes,” he moans. “Good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you stir with enticement as you pull back, then take all of his length again, flicking your tongue.

“Just like that,” Rafe grunts, his voice hoarse. “Look at me.”

You meet his eyes in the shadowed car, his chest heaving. Rafe might just lose his mind at the way you look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. He reminds himself this is supposed to be instructional.

“Guys love this shit, okay?” he says. “When you look up like that.”

You pull back, making him watch his cock slowly get uncovered as you pop off of him.

“Is it wet enough?” you ask.

“Yeah, baby, you’re doing a good job,” he replies. You nod and sink onto him again, starting to move faster, moving your hand in sync with your mouth.

“Hold my balls,” he tells you. “Not too tight.”

You obey, cupping the soft flesh with one hand while the other remains wrapped around his cock. You squeeze gently, massaging his balls and earning a deep groan from him.

Wow. You really are learning a lot from him.

Rafe feels his stomach tighten. He’s close.

“You gonna swallow?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, muffled and vibrating over his cock. You never have before, but you really want to impress Rafe and do this right.

He starts to shake, his voice reduced to a whimper. You feel him get even harder, then shudder.

His hot cum hits the back of your throat in one hard splash, trailed by short spurts. He moans his way through his orgasm, his load heavy.

You take it all, making him smile as he looks down at you, panting.

“That was… fuck…” Rafe huffs, titling his head back, his jawline sharp.

It’s pretty gratifying seeing such a big, loud, arrogant man reduced to this tired, heaving mess. He rakes a hand through his hair as you shift to sit next to him.

“A-plus?” you ask. You’re expecting him to tease you but he nods.

“Fuck yeah,” he laughs. “Give me a few minutes. I want you to show me how to make you cum on my dick.”

Nerves suddenly bubble in your stomach. Even after what you just did, the thought of fucking him in here makes you feel on edge.

“Let’s do that another night,” you say, adjusting your top.

“What? Why?” he asks. He looks at you, lips still parted as he breathes heavily.

“We could get caught.”

“The windows are tinted,” Rafe tells you. “Nobody knows we’re even in here.”

You look away, which by now, he has learned means you’re embarrassed.

“Holy shit, why do you get so nervous all of a sudden?” he laughs. “Do you feel bad for liking sex or something?”

You swallow hard. You never thought about it but... maybe he’s right. There always is a little bit of shame attached to every hook-up you have.

He called you out on your lack of confidence last night. Here he is, doing it again.

Rafe doesn’t understand how a girl can be so sure of herself one minute, then ashamed the next.

“Relax,” he says. “Don’t think. Just answer, understand?”

“Okay,” you say.

“Do you want to fuck?”

You nod.

“Say it.”

“Yeah, I do,” you relent.

“Then take your clothes off.”

(part three)

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[gothhabiba]

re: the university degree being an access barrier. c cs an u explain bc i genuinely don’t understand but i want to!

there are certain jobs that you cannot, or are highly unlikely to, get without a university degree. these jobs tend to pay more, have higher prestige, be less physically taxing / disabling, have better benefits in terms of health insurance and retirement, more flexibility with regards to scheduling or ability to call of sick without getting fired, less oversight and surveillance leading to less stress leading to better long-term health outcomes, &c.

you are much more likely to be able to get a university degree (i.e., to be accepted into a university programme and then to be able to complete that programme) if you are independently wealthy; can get help from your parents; won't have to worry about working full-time while studying; can afford to accept unpaid internships or have time to do other extra-curriculars in high school (because you aren't working to help your parents pay for rent, for example); if you lived in a relatively wealthy school district growing up that's more likely to have taught you the specific skills you need to succeed in college and have teachers who know how to help you apply (& wealth correlates with whiteness); grew up speaking the prestige language in your area; are not disabled; &c. &c.

so the university degree serves as a barrier to access certain jobs & thus certain lifestyles, living places, &c. because without a university degree you cannot access those things. but without being previously comfortable or wealthy, it's much harder to get a university degree. so the requirement to have a university degree to access a certain job, within this context wherein university degrees are more difficult to access for some people than others, and even in cases where you can't even really argue that the qualifications for the degree are super relevant to the requirements of the job, serves as a way of concentrating wealth within the hands of those who were already wealthy.

this is basically what people mean when they say that the material function of the university in the world as it currently exists is to be a class barrier. it helps to make sure that the people who get the "good jobs" are the descendents of the people who got the "good jobs" before.