#like straight up. what is the fucking point. how does this help. why does it impact our GRADE?????

[aizenat]

They’re goal isn’t to make Sabrina feminist (these ppl see feminist as a dirty man-hating word; young gen z women especially do NOT in general identify as feminists), but to shut up feminist critiques of her. Every pop act since the 70s has had feminists writing about how they allow themselves to be portrayed and sexualized; remember when Rashida Jones wrote on the pontification of pop culture in the 2010s and everyone had a cow over it? And was she wrong????

This has always been the song and dance, but with 2010s girlboss “feminism” taking over most ppls perception of what feminism is, these ppl are fighting back going “actually, Sabrina is doing this for herself so it’s feminist and YOU’RE the misogynist for questioning that!” They just took a talking point ppl were making of not judging women too harshly for doing what they can to survive the patriarchy to start arguing that no one can question or challenge the morals and ethics of women who actively (and almost gleefully) throw women under the bus for the patriarchy. Like in the past, I think pop stars were always trying to toe the line of doing what sells while also not straight debasing and humiliating themselves (if they could help it). They weren’t PERFECT with it, but I felt you could see them doing that balancing act and as women who do that all the time ourselves, could find it relatable and have compassion.

But modern pop girlies seem to revel in the sexual humiliation. The submission to the patriarchy IS the point. Sabrina’s girl next door turn sex kitten is literally that. She could have kept going the Taylor swift route, be a lover girl or another Olivia, but she’d get drown out and forgotten. So what does she do instead? She submits to the patriarchy and starts “selling sex.” Or rather her sexuality. Her sexual performance. And it’s a hit so of course she’s going to keep leaning into it. She now sees that submitting to the patriarchy happily gets more bees. And you can call the man you submit to a manchild and that’s enough for everyone to excuse your hypersexuality.

It’s also why Sydney Sweeney’s bath water thing felt weird too because it’s another public display of submission to the patriarchy. Sydney is a famous actress, and one of the most recognizable of her age. Why the FUCK is she debasing herself selling soap with her bath water in it? Oh because misogynistic men will love it, and the patriarchy will profit her. Her playing into the mass pressure girls feel to sexually exploit themselves for profit (did you know a recent study shows 1 in 5 hs girls are considering starting only fans as soon as they turn 18?? Of has become a typical career path for young girls!!!!) just makes girls give up fighting it! If girls as rich and pretty and talented as Sabrina and Sydney can’t escape bowing to the patriarchy, why should any other girl fight it? Why NOT just become porn and get lost in a sea of girls humiliating themselves in photos and videos that will last forever if even wealthy and famous celeb women are forced to do it?

And pointing that out being seen as the problem (or just pearl clutching) is just how these assholes shut us up like they’ve been trying to do for 50+ years now.

Sabrina Carpenter photographed by David LaChapelle

[lunar-wandering]

i see the words "SMART Goals Learning Plan Assignment 1". my eyes glaze over as i try to conceive of a possible issue i could pretend i have so i don't gotta talk about the autistic issues i'm already handling and definitely do not want to tell my teacher about

[gusdeservedbetter]

You know what isn't a crime, but definitely should be one? The casual mischaracterization of Sentry in fan content. I'm so done😭

1. I hate how he's often depicted as cruel, he's not, look at him, fucking look? And when Ava asks about the hair dye, what does he do? He looks to Val for an answer, he's constantly fidgeting, trying to find an out for the bunch of misfits who previously helped him in the vault.

2. I hate how people try to turn it into a Marc Spector, Steven Grant and Jake Lockley situation when it's. Like. Not?? This is such a disservice to both Moon Knight and The Sentry, and real people who relate to the two characters' (very distinct very different) mental health issues. Bob doesn't have DID, if anything, the movie leans towards him being bipolar. Sentry is Bob, the guy literally tells Yelena in the vault that he has high highs and low lows, the high is Sentry, the low is the Void, that's it. Bob is both Sentry and The Void. What's so hard to understand? It's the mania (Sentry), followed by depression (Void) then he forgets. That's how Bob describes it in the first act of the film, that's how it happens in the third act.

3. This is not a contradiction to point 1, but Sentry is unhinged. He is awkward and somehow soft spoken? But he is unhinged, and invincible, and fucking terrifying. I'm tired of the stoic depictions in fics like🙂‍↔️ idc if you wanna write fics for comic Sentry, just don't tag them as mcu stuff. (WHO AM I KIDDING COMIC SENTRY IS FUCKING SCARYYY STOP THE BABYFICATION)

4. He is not evil (the fact that we have to spell this out... media literacy is truly dead huh), no shit the Thunderbolts* will be scared of him, of course they will be– he kicked the ever-living shit out of them. But he's not malicious, he doesn't use unnecessary force. Call it condescending, but he's going easy on them, toying with them, and deals arguably softer blows to Yelena, John and Ava, the trio he already met at the vault (because he's the same person, yk? jesus)

5. Prespective is a thing, the team wasn't there to see Sentry tell Val he doesn't want to kill them (they're no threat to him), it's the root cause of their disagreement, it leads to the New York Blackout TM, but we, the audience, were. So tell me why the fuck do I see stuff with this guy terrorizing that team for no reason? 😭 bfr guys.

6. So what? So while I can buy you showing me Ava or John or Alexei or Bucky or Yelena being fearful of the Sentry, or Val (hahaha eat shit Val), I simply can't get behind him actually being a threat to them, on purpose and beyond swatting them like flies, because hi hello have you seen the movie? Yeah.

7. Have I mentioned Sentry is unhinged? Yeah. Yeah. We got glimpses of it with Val before Mel pressed the kill switch but!! Sentry!! Is!! Unhinged!!

8. Find a middle ground, he doesn't have to be uwu or straight up satan or stoic as a rock, he is Bob in mania, so that's inherently Bob with high levels of energy and a higher self esteem (more like a GODLY EGO) and impulsivness and dillusions of grandeur (except they're not dellusions anymore? So rip), so do with that what you will.

Fingers crossed for more in-character Sentry content, at least the Sentry depicted by Lewis Pullman, who put his all into this performance but whose character is still somehow misunderstood? Anyways.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[apatheticsunday]

Adopt a Bat Dad

AKA "Danny becomes de-aged in Gotham and finds the only person he knows who can probably help. Bruce Wayne, the Batman. Except Bruce thinks Danny is a kid mistaking him for his dad??" prompt idea!!

HC that Bruce Wayne and Jack Fenton look super similar. Therefore, Danny and Bruce also look pretty similar!!

I love the idea that Danny already knows Bruce Wayne is Batman. Maybe it's his aura or because the amount of kids Bruce has directly correlates to the amount of bat-themed sidekicks there are. Who knows? Anyway, Danny comes into a small bit of trouble. He may or may not have insulted an immortal witch who cursed him because he's an "immature child, may as well look as young as you act!"

So. Now Danny looks a solid 2-3 years old. It's a good thing that Sam and Tucker briefed him on all he celebrity gossip before he came to Gotham, because he coincidentally knows where the Wayne Enterprise building is. He... can figure it out. Probably. It's actually alarming how many people watch what they think is an unaccompanied kid huff and puff his way in downtown Gotham. (Also, wow, Danny severely underestimated how difficult it is to run after being babified.) But he does make it to the general area of where WE is supposed to be!

His legs are practically shaking at this point, sweating through his toddler-sized NASA hoodie, and searching frantically for Bruce Wayne. Because he really didn't think of it before, but it's Friday afternoon. What if Mr. Batman isn't at WE today? What if Danny gets to WE after 5pm and he's gone until Monday? Would Danny even be able to find the Wayne Manor, much less get transportation there?

Except as Danny's becoming increasingly worried (don't cry, don't cry, don't cry), he spots... his dad?? in the coffee shop windows beside him. No, not his dad. Bruce fucking Wayne! Hell, yeah! Danny smacks open the doors of the coffee shop with single-minded toddler-clumsy determination. Makes a bee-line straight to the coffee pick-up. Bruce Wayne is standing off to the side, quietly speaking on his phone, as Danny practically slams face-first into his knees. Thankfully, it doesn't take either of them down, but it is particularly embarrassing.

Especially when Danny clutches to Batman's pant leg and confidently shouts, "Batman!" Except... he doesn't. A weird jumble of words come out of his mouth that sound more like baba! It's like the world screeches to a stop because, first of all, what the fuck. Second, that bitch witch! She must've made it so whatever he says comes out in toddler-speak despite the fact that he should be able to say somewhat comprehensible sentences.

That doesn't stop him from trying, though, so he ends up babbling baba, baba, baba in an increasingly frustrated tone.

And Bruce Wayne, who's become used to Damian calling him baba instead of Father, can only stare down at this child who could pass as his clone. The similarities are striking. Even if the toddler is huffing, red-cheeked and clearly on the verge of crying, he looks so much like Bruce that he wonders momentarily if it's another Damian situation.

Regardless, there's a kid crying in front of him, tugging on his pant leg and calling for his dad. And Bruce is nothing if not absolutely weak-hearted against stuff like this. So, he leans down and just... scoops the kid up. Murmurs, "Shh, it's okay, kiddo. You're okay." Pats the kid's back, sways. Completely forgets he's in a crowded coffee (this is definitely going on YouTube, posted under 'Wayne Adopts Another??') and that he's on a phone call with Dick. It's like his Dad Instincts kick in and he's completely focused on Danny.

Danny is... bewildered. Because why is the Batman coddling him?? Except he notices that others have noticed, and have their phones out recording, which is really Not Good. He's not super confident that his parents would be able to recognize him while he's de-aged, but the fact that they might? That's opening a can of worms he can't handle at the moment. So his little string bean arms loop around Bruce's neck and he shoves his face into the collar of the man's suit. Much to his irritation, he can hear several girls next to him coo and giggle about him being such a cute baby. Danny's really regretting not approaching Batman privately now.

And it doesn't end!!

Bruce calms the kid down and then immediately goes to the store manager, asking if any parents have lost their child. He doesn't trust that someone may claim Danny as theirs when that may not be the case. Then, he calls up Gordon, asks about any missing person reports on a child the ages of 2-4 with average height, medium build, and black hair. No hits. Eventually, Bruce makes up his mind and takes Danny home with him. Oracle will likely be able to pull more information than the GCPD anyways.

Meanwhile, Danny zonks out. Like full on, toddler-sprawl open-mouth drooling, because it's been a long day and he got Batman. He did it! And from the way Bruce is still carrying him, Danny will likely be with him for a little while. A little catnap will do him some good. Maybe when he wakes up, he'll magically have the ability to speak normally instead of hysterically babble.

(Four hours later, Danny wakes up on the couch at Wayne Manor, bundled up in super soft blankets with Bruce talking on the phone with some woman. Bruce smiles at the way Danny says baba again. Danny's ready to throw that witch into Bruce's well-maintained fireplace because screaming son of bitch isn't as satisfying when it sounds like sa-bA-BAH!!")

Cue Danny doing increasingly ridiculous things to make The "Greatest Detective" Batman realize he's not a literal baby and Bruce Wayne so enamored with this little kid that he does not realize.

[grotesquevi]

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ the colorama in your eyes, takes me on a moonlight drive.

cw  #  18+ mdni, fakegirlfriend!vi, this contains smut at some point, tribbing, fingering, titty love, dirty talk, slight dumbification?, soft!dom vi, switch!reader, use of marijuana, drunk-kissing, vi gives you tons of nicknames, swearing, reader has a crush on a straight girl for the plot, vi used to date sarah fortune, collage, hockey au.

wc: 20,809 // masterlists // playlist

an # this was my first long fic and to be honest, i love it with all my heart so i hope you do too, fake dating is one of my favorite tropes lol it's long really so yeah grab your snacks and enjoy the ride?? jocks dont get tested for drugs in this universe bc i say so. if you read the 20k words, know that we are bonded for life. again, if you recognize this from before: it's because my old account vicorices got deleted thanks to tumblr fuckery. welcome back boo.

"can you pretend you want me?"

the air is thick at eleven o'clock, and violet tries to remember why she's there again, drinking warm beer from a plastic cup while she listens to her friend tell the same story she repeats over and over when she had a drink or two, even when it's plain wednesday — right. powder.

her sister wanted moral support to socialize, giving vi a hard time now that she was left there with a couple of friends from the team, with no sign of her sister nowhere close to be seen.

"sorry, can you pretend you want me?" vi doesn't really notice she's being talked to until you place yourself in front of her vision. the sound of your voice clearer than the music. "quick. it's a matter of life or death."

"excuse me-" her brows furrow in question "what did you say?"

"fuck- one minute," there's no much time to think about it when you're invading her space suddenly, even in front of her friends as you make her corner you against the brick wall of the frat house, one vi didn't pay much attention to until now — "pretend you want me for a minute, please."

it happens so fast she has no room to say anything, cause you're talking to her one time only to yank her away from her teammates the other in the weirdest request she's ever had from a girl, yet from up close, vi's able to look at you under the dim lights that changed colors: yeah she can do that, she can pretend she's into you.

she suffers from this hero syndrome that compels her to help people out, so she's playing the part by heart, with a purpose now cause why the fuck no? you're pretty, and the color on your eyes is nice to look at, takes her briefly to the moon as she's leaning against you, prying on you with a hungry look.

"who are you trying to seduce?" she asks politely, but her actions seem far from gentleness when she's leaning against your neck, nose catching on the smell on your skin as her hands find your waist.

"the red haired," you breathe out thankful that she's following you around, and your fingers find a strand of her hair to twirl it in your digit, slightly pulling on it as you speak. you're licking on your lips, doe eyes as a smile tugs on the corner of your lips, flirting, you are flirting — "the one with curls talking with the girl on a yellow dress. don't look."

yeah you're pretty. of course you fucking are, cause vi has no trouble in not looking, fixated by the softness of your skin, how pliant you are in her arms in a situation that turns everything that was boring in a experience.

"is she seeing us?" she asks you again "your girl. she watching you?"

she's being kind she thinks, cause that's new. not many girls came out of nowhere asking stuff like that, so forward, and vi is a girl's girl after all. of course she's going to help you out to get a girl jealous, in fact, she hope a pretty girl like you could get what you wanted by the end of the night, the curly redhead or whatever.

"yeah i think so, she's going to walk behind you any moment" you let her know, low enough so she can hear you now because she's so damn close out of sudden it gives vi enough time to press a kiss against the crook of your neck, that spot where your shoulder meets your neck and she can feel you shivering beneath her hands, because she never would do that on a girl she just met, one that she didn't even knew her name, but she's helping you out due to boredom so who she is to ever judge?

the scent of your perfume hit her nostrils and it really seems like it — that she wanted you. she manages to be gentle even when she's trying to look fully into you and by your smile, vi's sure she made it good.

"i think she looked," you stated proudly. removing yourself from her arms as quickly as you jumped in them, looking at the direction your curly girl left "thank you, really saved me there."

"who's that, your ex girlfriend or something?" she asks curiously, forgetting about her warm beer now rotting in the cup she forgot somewhere in between the acting.

"no, that's my roommate" you quickly explain, "straight."

"well that's tough, my regards on your death wish" vi nose wrinkles and her expression makes you laugh cause deep down, you also know you're doomed. "so she looked huh? congratulations, now you just have to brainwash her entirely."

"very funny," you roll your eyes in response "i'm playing my cards right, you'd be surprised."

"right" she teases, "so that's why you're asking a total stranger to act like a one night stand, good tactic i'd fall for it."

"we've shared ten minutes," and vi's holding on a chuckle when you seem to have a response for every single one of her comments, endearing "i think we're not really strangers no more, it makes us friends now."

"i'm violet, vi" she would assume everyone knew her name already since she's been winning game after game this season and hockey's a big thing for piltover's university, but you don't really seem to know her when you're saying your name as a formal introducing, weirdly enough, right after she just kissed your skin like a long time lover.

"are you here on your own, vi? cause my friends ditched me for hook-ups, and you seemed bored too."

now that she looks back at it — she should have said something like she was too busy, that she was heading home already or something like that. end up things right away before she got stung on the neck, but to be fair, you're fun to be with, you're pretty and she could use a friend that don't talk about hockey for a while, so she accepts, saying something about her beer tasting like mud, making you go and join her to find alcohol in a frat house already full of people.

it was a slip, a mistake maybe, but by the hour she's sure you're a long-lost friend, like a limb vi has lost somewhere in her lifetime. you're a little weirdo who knows about a lot of art and won't ever spend time, willingly watching any kind of sports. the kind of girl who remembers the speech from a movie, but's unable to name the schedule you took in the semester from memory.

"so you're an art kid?" she questions you, "i've never been in that part of the campus."

"yeah, we're pretty hidden" you admit, taking a sip from the beer you found in the freezer "jocks don't go to places like that."

"interesting fact, so you know i play hockey?"

"of course i know who you are, vi" you end up saying after a moment of silence, seated comfortable in the small cement bench as you smoke from the joint she invited you to smoke outside after an hour or so "but i have to play cool too, otherwise i'll feed your ego and you're not even the captain of the hockey team. i'm afraid to said i don't live under a rock."

you seem almost proud of saying it, and vi forgets about how powder had to drag her there, push and almost threat to get her out of bed when she lets out a loud laugh of pure entertainment — to be honest vi's going through a break-up from almost three months ago, so yeah, it's fair she regretted showing up at first, she don't want to see sarah, not even by mistake, but her ex is not around and she's utterly having fun for a chance.

"ah, you cheated on me," vi tries to act all hurt when in reality she's actually enjoying this random act of honesty, simple fun "that's bad girl behavior i'm sorry- trying to get a straight girl? lying to my face? you're truly a menace."

"shut up, she's coming."

"who, again?"

"ava my straight roommate- fuck" it's cute when you panic, passing her the joint concerned of your state "do i look high? too bad? look interested in me or else i'll cry. i mean it, vi."

and she's going to protest, say some stupid joke now that you know each other a bit more, that you've warmed up, but ava's there and you're greeting her all handsy and shit, having to hold on the laugh when you blatantly lie saying you didn't see her around until now. crazy little liar.

"she's vi," you presented her, and to hell because she has to act all clingy again, wrapping her arm around your waist only to pull you between her spread legs, chest pressing against your side as you think quickly, out of pure nervousness before adding,"my girlfriend."

it makes vi choke on the smoke. her grip tightening as she hides the puzzled look on her face and you give her that look of oh-god-have-i-fucked-up-my-entire-life? in slow motion — "vi, this is ava, my roommate."

"hi."

you're dragging her into a mess and all she can do is mutter a silent what-the-fuck against your shoulder as she greets ava with a smile, keeping you against her chest cause well: she's your girlfriend it supposes, and vi would never be a shitty lover, fake or not.

"nice seeing you guys around, you too vi, glad to meet you" and maybe she's too high already vibing with it, but vi can smell the flirting in the air when your roommate talks directly to you "gonna make pasta when i come home, do you want some?"

"sure, thank you ave. you can leave it in the kitchen counter."

"no worries. i got you."

vi waits until the girl's inside before giving you that look. the look of not understanding shit, of being clueless as you turn around almost begging for mercy, leaning in her embrace knowing you were the one who seek for more trouble in the first place.

and a hockey player should be aware of everything, so vi should've seen it before, way before when she's not really uncomfortable with you seated between her legs, unaware of the rest of the party already gossiping — what's vi doing with a girl like you anyway?

"please?" you try after a long moment of silence, and she already knows what you're asking.

"no," vi shakes her head almost at the same time. "d'you know how exhausting is to fake something like that? it's like having a real girlfriend, have you seen the movies?"

"vi," you cry out, looking back at her with puppy eyes. "i'll make it easy i promise, no weird stuff i'm begging you."

"don't you have another friend that could help you out with this?" she asks, furrowing her brows. "i helped you out, miss. but you're taking advantage of my good heart."

"most of my friends are straight, and the only lesbian in my life has a girlfriend already, ava knows them so it wont work" you explain making vi follow up on a story she wasn't really involved at first. "please, if you ever need a lung you can have mine, i'll give you my first born even if you want to-"

"and what do i get? seriously here cause having a girlfriend don't really mix well with girls in campus, you're ruining my sex life also."

"don't you have one person that you'd like to make jealous too?" you plant a seed on her brain that spreads like the black plague on it's peak time "c'mon, maybe it can work out for you too, think about it."

she stays silent for a while cause your words hits the jackpot. vi's mind drifts back to sarah, and she quickly thinks about the benefits of having a fake girlfriend that would make her real ex see that she did, in fact move on already.

"two weeks top, we can break up after" you beg again at her thoughtful look, and you do it so nicely vi's tempted to act reluctant one more time only to have you trying to coax her with another crazy argument "i mean it, and you can say you're the one who dumped me even, don't really care- please vi. two weeks. two weeks and then we say something like we don't match well."

it's weird cause once again she wonders: what the fuck is she doing there in the first place when it's wednesday? right.

"yeah?" you smile already celebrating at the lack of her denial "is that a yes? you'll be my fake girlfriend then?"

fucking powder.

by the next day, violet vanderson regrets being so kind to people she just met, almost a callout cause how did she become friends with you after just one night? you're exchanging numbers and suddenly you're on her phone and it's simple as smoking a joint and laugh in a boring ass party.

two weeks.

she just have to resist two weeks.

it's not like it's torture. not at all. maybe she's just being dramatic for no reason. dating sarah in the past has brought nothing but problems to her, so your help is also needed, vi has business to attend too and she can use a fake girlfriend even when it seems a ridiculous idea at first.

her phone buzzes on top of the desk before she falls asleep in the middle of microbiology and she lazily comes up to read the screen:

it's not like you're not funny to be around. cute even with the attitude and a silly crush on a straight girl that most likely will fall for you in the end — she could use a girlfriend, a fake one so she can spare the drama in her life.

with a sigh, she reads the first texts.

she hides the phone beneath the table to not be rude, biting the latex glove on her hand to get it off and text you comfortably. the taste grosses her out.

she can imagine the annoyed look on your face, the same one you gave her when she joked about not wanting to give you her own number, having to bite her lip as she prevents an smile.

dramatic. she's almost enjoying messing with you even when she should be paying attention, receiving a random poke for her lab partner before muttering a low — sorry!

dina's looking at her with her brows already furrowed, and vi knows how much her lab partner hates when she's not paying attention as their final grade depends on their work as a team, so she don't mind it much when she answers quickly before shoving her phone back in the pocket of her lab coat.

thing is, vi may or may not forgot about it later. you texted at nine in the morning — of course by five she's going to forgot, so when you appear with a radiant smile holding out your bag with what she guessed was full of art supplies or shit like that, vi didn't expect you to be so confident to walk into a practice like you did, nor being teased by her own teammates because yeah: why's a pretty girl seated in the benches waving at her?

too distracting, she warned you about it, but vi has the feeling you are not very good at listening.

you're there twenty minutes earlier and you're not even paying attention to what they're doing. too busy looking into your stuff to be even looking at her having to endure all twenty minutes of pure hell.

"is that your new girlfriend, vi? she cute."

“shut up and leave her alone.”

so of course after that, she’s taking you by the hand despite all the jokes, yanking you outside as she walks away from practice and got back to her motorbike.

“sorry for coming earlier,” you say when she’s helping you put on the helmet. “my class got cancelled and i was bored.”

bored. she thinks about it, because you’re literally walking in a practice full of lesbians and they all notice a pretty girl right away, yet, instead of saying something on that, she looks at you before lowering the face shield on your head and instead mutter once again — “you’re too distracting to come earlier to practice, 'told you about it.”

limits. vi's sure you two need to settle basic limits by the time she's parking on rims — she has to focus harder though when you're pressed against her back, arms securely wrapped around her waist without leaving much space between the two of you. she could feel the tension on each curve, how you loudly spoke to make her follow the speed limits.

so anytime of the day vi would hate coming to rims, but on a thursday noon and with the place already full of people from the university talking loudly, she has nothing to whine about, not when you're grabbing her by the hand, making her walk to the entrance fingers laced.

"do you come here a lot?" she asks curiously, letting you walk in front of her, usually she has a rather sharp opinion on places like that, full of pretentious people that tried too hard to satisfy the others.

"hell no, but they do have good food so i order for takeout" you admit before spotting a booth "sit next to me, sitting in front of each other is boring, 'sides we have to make it believable."

and to be fair with her own self, vi's deep down amazed by how easy you make it look. how unfazed you are for a moment when you grab her hand to walk like you've been around her from ages ago, like you've shared confidence for more time than just mere hours the night before, so it's not really awkward nor strange to her. it's getting natural.

"now that we're here i was wondering if you'd like to discuss some rules" you state before even checking on the menu "i was thinking throughout class, and i kinda believe we should make a plan or something, establish some basics like when are going to meet and shit, i know where ava's going after her classes, what about you and your golden girl? does she have a schedule you know?"

you're wasting no time in jumping into plan after plan already making a calendar up together so you can check on her free times, but vi's hungry as ever when she's looking at the menu instead of listening to you, debating if she should have the cheesecake for dessert or maybe ice cream since it's sunny outside.

"which hamburger did you try already? it was good?" the change of subject makes you stop making plans on your own to check the menu right over your shoulder, pointing out the one with pink bread who looks weird enough to avoid it — "you sure it was good? seems weird to me."

"yes, pay attention, this is important" you reply, looking back to the paper you're using to write down on their supposed rules: a paper tablecloth from the table you reversed to use on the white part. "rules. what do you think?"

"i can't think with empty stomach," vi replies trying to make eye contact with a waitress so she can come by and take their order "and i want to object too, because you said it was going to be easy, and doing this stuff does not seem easy to me."

"please we're organizing, this is not the treaty of versailles" it makes her laugh for a moment, and there it is once again, the same feeling on the party of having a good time even when you're being a pain in the ass. "it's not even that much, we just have to make our plans for the week and establish things we dislike; for example, i'll arrive to your practice in time, and, in your case i'm not ever ridin' your bike again so i can avoid having a heart attack."

vi's too hungry to defend herself from the sudden reluctance to her bike, practice leaves her in need of a nap, so she's looking at you with a clearly unpleased face until one of the waitresses finally comes and takes their order quickly.

"where are we going to spend time together? here?" she asks trying to be helpful as she thinks about more defining points now that she secured food "how many times during the week? i can text you my schedule if you need it, i'm usually free by five thirty during practice days."

you're writing it down on the paper and she can see your messy handwriting as you put down the important.

"do you have a problem with seeing each other everyday? try at least" you propose still looking at the written words for a moment before looking back at her — "an hour tops. not in here but to do random things, things that couples do. ave goes to the mall a lot, also to the library so she can study, if she sees us? i'm putting you in my will vi, swore it on my childhood dog."

"i'll tell you if i can't" vi nods, taking on mental notes as she's too lazy to write like you do "are you going to send me a photo of your notes?"

"yes. what about parties?" the points seems to come on their own as you write again "are we the kind of couple that party together and sneak out for kisses in the middle of the night, or the one that parties on their own because we're all about having private lives."

"party together and sneak out for kisses" vi replies without much thinking "we're dating recently, it's our honeymoon phase. so you're partying with me."

"we're also not falling in love" you state, casual as ever as you write it down — "i'm serious."

"we're not falling in love" she agrees with your words, looking at the food arriving to the other people "that only happens in bad movies."

"good. almost forgot," you also add before the food arrives, "put me as your lockscreen."

"huh?"

"your lockscreen vi, on your phone" you point out to your very own screen "give it to me, i'll put a nice picture, i need one of yours too."

jesus. she didn't have that with sarah — in fact, she always had the same picture that came with the phone by default, a blue gradient she don't bother in changing, yet she's giving you her phone willingly, and you're putting it side to side with yours, looking at your own pictures only to check which one will look better as her background.

it's serious as ever.

you seem to cover every single thing she misses, and by the end of it, vi's stomach roars before the food finally arrives and she's drowning in pleasure, devouring until there's nothing in her plate and you've barely even beginning to have a bite.

"what are you writing?" she enquires, trying to look as she's right next to you.

"you have to eat before seeing me cause you don't know how to eat when you're too hungry."

“you’re always bugging me” she rolls her eyes at the comment — “sure you aren't a bug?”

"very funny violet, now that you look slightly presentable, there's a girl looking at you" you casually state "she's making me nervous too, by the way. on your right, don't be obvious."

she knows who you're talking about before seeing her, cause sarah's gaze burn on her neck as vi, subtle as ever, look from over her shoulder only to confirm what she already knows: that's her ex girlfriend looking — and she knows that look from before too, that question in her expression cause she know sarah's wondering why she's there with a girl on the fucking rims? looking all cozy as ever.

"well ava's not here- what happened?" you're quick to pick up on the weirdness of all, how vi seems to stiffen in the booth, forgetting about her nice fries to instead, cross her arms on top of the table, trying to act unbothered "who is she?"

"that's sarah fortune, my ex girlfriend."

"you're shitting me? that's your ex girlfriend?" vi has to resist the need to give you a bad look before your eyes widen in response "your golden girl? you want to go back with your ex?"

"no please," she scrunches her nose, hating to give too many explanations "i want to make sure she gets i'm much over her, seen publicly with you so she will leave me alone."

"oh," you seem to understand for a moment, and vi wonders how you switched so quickly to insist on plans and rules, to leave them aside in a mere seconds and instead, look interested in her instead — "you have ketchup on your mouth."

the act itself is so simple when your fingers trace the corners of vi's mouth, black nails painted that swiped the red sauce from her skin before you leave a soft kiss in her cheek. one that makes vi gasp since it's so sudden, subtle when you're getting handsy like you did with ava the night before, body language speaking volumes when your legs drape over her's and you don't care about the rest, cause you're reducing your world to vi only and fuck's sake, it makes her oblivious to sarah for a moment, letting you look at her with those very same doe eyes, that horny look on your face you gave her when she was leaving a single kiss on your neck the night before.

"so your ex means trouble, i get it" you say in a low chuckle, cleaning the rest of your lipstick in vi's skin "tell me when it's too much, okay? limits."

what both of you don't really notice is that sarah actually left by the first touch, still resting in your fake girlfriend's side cause vi's warm — like the sun in a sunday morning, comfortable as the pillows on your bed.

it's not a torture, it's not fair to even say it as a joke. vi's just being dramatic, she knows it when she's asking for your weekend plans, already counting you in her own.

"are you going out with me on saturday night?" of course you fucking are.

by friday morning it's impossible not to think about you when you're on her phone every time she unlocks it. long hair, big smile as you look up to the camera, the angle is cute, and it makes vi stare at it during various times of the day, blushing when your name pops up on the screen and she’s forced to see you again.

you’ve been texting a lot since yesterday about important stuff — birthday dates and basic family names so neither will be reduced to misery if asked, but by twenty-seven minutes in, texting shifts in random jokes and casual conversations with the excuse to think about things you can do with her. together.

and vi does not protest cause despite being a fake relationship, she does want to be your friend, so in the end she sees nothing wrong with talking to you like a friend would. she's pretty much stuck with you for more than a week and a half, so she better get used to it if you're going to be glued to her by the hip.

you don't see her on friday despite your plans of seeing her everyday, but vi's there by saturday night, outside your dorm building ready to text you about how annoyed she is by all the time you're taking to leave, but before she could reach her phone you go out using this black skirt that got vi double checking for a moment, forgetting momentarily about her random anger as you greet her and grab her jacket to make her walk as she stands there for a good amount of time.

“c’mon walk, we have work to do ava’s already in your party” you say, dragging her as you leave no room to protest “my tummy hurts but i’m trying to give my best here, hope that sarah’s there too cause i’m going all in.”

lately, vi's been avoiding going out too much, tried to when she craves silence by the night, too boring now when she mainly talks and flirts when feeling adventurous, it’s weird now when she usually wants the solitude of a night where she can listen to her own thoughts, but you’re sipping on your drink, walking by her side as you tell her about a bad experience you went through high school with your best friend drunk-kissing you, and she don’t really care about the loud music nor the people.

it’s fun. she’d said it before, fun as ever when she’s saying hi to friends she haven’t seen since sarah broke up with her, laughing with some members of the hockey team as she has you close by; and deep down vi hopes sarah’s there too — you’re with her and she doubt she’s going to try and talk to her with the way you’re seated on her lap laughing with the rest, notice after so many tries, that she's ready to keep moving on.

“do you play poker or something like that?” ava’s looking at you from across the room every once in a while, and even as you are unaware of it, it's something vi's quick to pick up when she's leaning towards you, talking to you closer than before — “blackjack?”

“no, not really,” you reply as sevika’s mixing up the card deck — “i’m not lucky when it comes to games.”

it’s funny now that you’re pointing it out, ironic as your ass is pressed against her legs and ava’s looking at the interaction through the corner of her eye, cause it seems like it is a game. your skirt rises through your thighs and vi grabs you by the waist, comfortable enough to keep you there while concentrating in the game.

“here, come play with me i’ll teach you” she makes you get even closer, pointing out the cards silently as she explains you the basics of the game. and it seems like a secret, even you are eating it up as you cannot really concentrate in all the things she's saying. “it’s not really that hard, isn’t?”

“so if my cards add up and i’m over twenty one, you lose fictional money?” you asks to her contentment “it’s all you have to do? stay under or in the number twenty one?”

“well mostly bug, you got the basics. the important thing is getting a number higher than sevika,” she whispers in your ear. “you get that, and i’ll have her doing my laundry for the week.”

is it the drink that makes you bolder? that slowly blurry the lines of a fake relationship? you're aware ava's looking now, of the warmth of vi's hands against your skin before you're concentrating to play along her game, staring at the two cards in the table, fifteen.

"do you think it's safe to ask for another card?" vi seems pleased to get you understand the game, pointing to sevika's cards at the other side of the table — eighteen.

"we have to do so, she has a bigger number."

she uses two fingers to tap on the table twice as a way of saying she wants another card, and your breathing hitches when you see the number five being added to her cards: twenty.

exhaling from the tobacco hanging on her lips, sevika's next card is a seven, too far from the original twenty one as she seems annoyed by it, quickly suggesting another round.

"another?" vi turns to asks you like the fate it's really in your decisions, and you pretend to think about it for a second, nodding after— "yeah go on."

when it's too much? the music's loud, the drinks are nice and you've been craving that too long, the warmth of somebody else. it's all a damn whirlwind as vi's looking at you, expectant from an answer as you look at her cards, nineteen. against sevika's twelve, you shake your head in denial.

"too dangerous, stay there" you reply, and honestly its basic math when sevika becomes greedy and takes too many cards from the deck and she pulls a twenty two.

vi wins a lot more times after that. so much she's getting excited now that she's on a streak and people around start paying attention to the little game they put up in a dirty table, ava's looking, the rest is looking: it's just a rush of the adrenaline, one that mixes you up entirely, cause after being called her lucky charm, you're looking her and vi knows — knows that look already.

"permission to kiss you," it does not need much wording than that, but it makes vi's head spin when it catches her off guard, her usual rough demeanor faltering for a moment cause she's smiling right against your lips for a second and it's all the invitation needed.

ava. ava fucking ava's gaze burns in the back of your neck, but vi does not care about it when her mouth parts in a devastating kiss, rough and demanding as her fingers tightens against your jaw and she's angling you to a better and more comfortable position, tongue colliding against yours in a kiss you're quick to follow, a competition maybe as you push against her mouth and the game seems to go on without the two of you giving in.

fake girlfriends kiss, right? they have to. she has to follow the plot, stick to the plan. it helps you're on her lap cause her hand's are on your waist and she's pulling you closer, luring you to rest on top of her.

and by the time you're pulling out, your lips are swollen and vi's drinking from your beer now, joining the game once again like she didn't just kissed you dumb in the middle of a party full of people who knows her, like that wasn't the hottest thing you've ever experience.

it makes your hands sweaty, ava's blushing and vi has to pretend, concentrated in the taste of cold beer in her mouth, that she cares about winning the game as sevika's already drunk, betting on her metal arm.

fake girlfriends kiss, right?

right.

it haunts her after.

it plagues her mind when she already decided on the excuse she’s going to say after her acts on saturday: she was following an act, despite her shields you don't text until tuesday and you've been texting her so much before that it's weird now not to receive a text, anything at all.

she knows it may be lot anyway cause people started to talk about it — the sudden relationship of the rising star of hockey, the low profile girl that seems to get her crazy enough to kiss her publicly, and it's what she wanted anyway, what she agreed on.

sarah's away, your straight friend must be turned on as ever, not even a week and the plan is working, surprisingly enough. everything's working despite the strange sensation on the pit of her stomach.

she can't even talk it with her friends anyway: what would she say? that she accepted to be your fake girlfriend cause you needed an extra help getting your straight girl? that she's panicking cause she kissed you in a middle of a blackjack game? sounds like a joke.

she cannot avoid you either way, so by four she’s hidden in her grey hoodie, pushing the library door only to find you already working on your own.

"are you drawing uh-bones?" vi curiosity peaks when she watches over your shoulder what are you so invested in drawing "that's pretty accurate."

"why didn't you bring your laptop?" you question, furrowing your brows together in an inquisitorial way. "we're exchanging favors, i'm not drawing bones for good will."

"my laptop?"

"you forgot" you roll your eyes as she's sitting in front of you "we talked about it on saturday vi, about helping you out with this class where you need to draw, you're doing my essays of art history in return?”

and vi doesn't really remember when she told you about it, but she knows what you mean because she's falling behind on anatomy where she needs to draw parts of the body each week to learn them by memory, and she sucks at it to the point she's ashamed on presenting hard, humble work and pass it with the lowest score out of pity: when did she told you about that?

it's random because she don't really admit when she's struggling with a class like — ever. almost a secret she wishes to keep to herself 'cause she don't want people finding out about her weakest links.

"you remember about walking me home right?" it was just slightly blurry, pursing her lips together as she becomes aware of the lack of memories close to the end of the party "i'm offended, you forgot about the most important part cause you're doing my history tasks."

her drunk self it's intelligent cause your drawings are pretty good to the point she stares at them to a moment before adding — "in that case, you need to make your draw ugly, cause if it’s too good it won't be believable."

“i’m doing what i can” you roll your eyes as you pause your working “it’s our academic deal still going? kind of need the essays.”

“yeah, it’s on” and quite frankly, it’s a help she much needed when she’s looking at your notes to go and see what the essay must be about.

“it’s for friday, you told me this is for thursday- or your drunk self sabotages you?” vi shows you her middle finger before she can spot the smile on your lips, you're teasing her — “thursday okay. how it's going on with sarah by the way? is she giving you any trouble at all?"

"no, it seems she get the message" vi admits thoughtful. "people is talking about us, so i don't think she'll come close anyway. she's got a big ego."

"yeah well, everyone's calling me your girl" you point out, scrunching your nose at the nickname, and vi blushes at the news "so i bet she heard about it already too."

"and how's everything going with ava?"

"she's weird" you state “you think our kiss scared her? haven’t talked to her since the party, we talked a lot when i came home that night.”

vi chokes for a second before shaking her head, the kiss, you say it so normally — “uh, no. no i don’t think so- maybe she’s falling in love with you.”

“be for real violet, do you hate me?” you dramatically say as she steals a pencil from your case and you gave her a bad look — “there’s tension i think, that or i’m being delusional, there’s no in between.”

“is she here or what?”

“she’ll be in like thirty minutes, wanted to be subtle” business, a fake relationship is pure business. vi needs to remind herself the very same when she’s gathering the books she’ll need to start out on renaissance art she don't know a thing about, lazily reading titles as she curses on her own past self, knowing she hates doing essays or anything that involves writing a decent paragraph.

vi’s mind however works on its own when she's looking at your lips again, sitting in front of you before you can say something about being close cause she's already counting on the days before her death.

you don't want to talk about it, she don't want to do it either, so instead, vi let you dive her in an ocean of comfortable silence when she's working with most of your materials, highlighting important information fighting the need to close her eyes.

"resist don't fall asleep," she has no choice to comply when your feet rubs on hers beneath the table, an action that does not go unnoticed when ava's sitting in the table right next to the two of you: that’s thirty minutes already? how? "you okay there? i know art history's like taking a stab on the guts."

your caress from under the table don't really ceases when you talk, and vi's thankful of not choosing the seat next to you as it would've make her bewildered already.

"it's good to know at least you know how to make your deals" she praises, leaving the pencil against the table as she closes the book in front of her — "my brain is fried, i need to work on a laptop. can i borrow yours?"

she should get a badge, a medal or something like it that acknowledges her hard work in enduring the stupidity of having a fake relationship when your hand reaches out to her arm on top of the table to trace invisible patterns as you look up to her.

"i'll bring it tomorrow, maybe this time we could go to a cafe near here, the library can be sleep-indulgent" you suggest, "or are you going to work on the essay on your own?"

"tomorrow is fine, i don't have practice" she replies, and as much as she don't want to bring it up, she'd like to talk about your absence, about the kiss and the physical limits of your fake relationship, but she lets you push her around, demanding more touches as she cannot say no, not when your skin is soft against her and she has to keep this story of being your girlfriend letter by letter.

"text me when you're done" you say before showing her the draws you made for her anatomy classes already— "i'll have the rest for tomorrow, and you can fill me up on the next ones that come for the next week."

she brought this on herself.

you're everywhere.

in her phone when she has to unlock it, her messages every hour, her teammates ask for you, even fucking dina knew and that was a lot since she don't follow much on the uni gossip lately.

everywhere until you're all.

vi's perfectly capable of being an adult and not hold feelings for you no matter how difficult it ends up being. mainly because she refuses to be a cliche of any sort so she keeps most of her feelings on check, even when the night comes and she finds herself thinking about that saturday-night-kiss, the touches in a library, the sarcasm in your playful banters like a routine now after the days pass on by.

the world keeps on going, the earth keep it's course spinning, the moon is up in the sky and vi's trapped in the same thoughts after ten o'clock when the silence is loud, and you stop responding to her texts because you fall asleep faster than anyone she has ever seen in her life: how does she fight becoming a damn cliché when she's so near you all the time?

your activities are endless and she keeps up with every single one of them, going to the cinema cause ava got a date there, late goings to your apartment like your stablished girlfriend cause ava’s crashing and watching movies in her room, dragged her to the mall claiming you needed help to pick out some outfits as a friend more than a fake girlfriend, even inviting her to smoke from your weed now as you've shared a lot of time together by the end of the week.

and it's clear vi's on a car with no brakes at all cause she's doing important things during the day — so why does she stop in the middle of nowhere cause something little reminded her of you? something she keeps to herself like a secret and don't comment on it with no one else, abby likes to makes fun of her romantic fool behavior so she keeps it to herself.

that's how the coach's saying to her now, #08, VANDERSON: romantic fool.

friends, when was the last time she had a friendship like you? never.

she has never experienced a relation like that with nobody she knew from before. she don't really crave kissing on her friends, she don't struggle to keep the hands to herself. it makes sense for a short period of two weeks, and it's good. it's what she wanted.

after the week left? that's trouble for vi from the future.

she's trapped in your essays even when she hates to do them every single minute of the hour, yet you're drawing on her side while you randomly talk sometimes and you're not even drawing for her anatomy class now, you're just there drawing on things you like on your little sketchbook while she's invested in getting you a good grade and make sense of what she's writing.

it's a routine now. she wants it to be a routine. her grades on anatomy are insanely good by the same week and it's weirder than ever cause you talk with your advances with ava and she's reminded of the fakeness of it all, how you're after another girl and she's once again left with questionable choices.

the thing is, vi can still feel the ghost of your kiss on her lips, the tenderness of it. you taste like beer and she begs to the god the time for that moment where everything stopped so she could feel the soft taste of your mouth again, dissolve beneath you like she did before, experience it all over again until her she's able to control that aching feeling on her chest of having you seated on a skirt right over her legs.

and she cannot decide if the lack of kissing is actually a good thing or a pain in the chest cause while it keeps her mind sane, her body yearns for a different kind of contact now she's not able to ever satisfy, not without risking mixing it all up and make it even more complicated.

she has to learn how to fake it more cause she's fucking awful at it.

so it's hard. hard as ever when she spends time with you for the sake of it, just cause you mentioned coffee and she would follow you wherever you'd say without hesitation — even the fucking rims.

that's why she's there anyway, before you arrive since you seem to be late. she's used to wait for you now, you're slightly bad at estimating your time.

"what happened? why are you so happy?"

"ava, she kissed a girl yesterday, can you believe it?"

"she did?"

"i know right? fun-fucking-tastic."

now. you're all fun when you're sitting next to her, spilling details about last night when ava's knocking on your door and slipping inside your bed to talk about how she's doubting her own feelings lately; a lame excuse to be close to you as you keep going about sleeping next to her, the feeling of having her close.

no she's not jealous. she's never actually jealous of anyone, but it's the slap on her face, a reminder of reality she needed for the day. fake girlfriend.

you're her fake girlfriend.

"it seems you did brainwashed her entirely, congrats" she jokes with you, because vi's not like that, because just like when you talked to her the very first time — she keeps believing you're pretty, and she still hopes you do get the girl you want in the end, the curly redhead or whatever.

"told you i was playing my cards right" she recognize that cheeky smile as you place an small cup in front of her — "black, no sugar" you point out already knowing her order now after so many times of getting it wrong or trying to make her try sweet, weird things on the menu, "my treat. you deserve it."

"close to kiss your straight girlfriend and all i get is black coffee?" violet teases, taking a sip of the still too-hot coffee "i'm hurt i'm not worth even a little piece of cake, bug. i saw the red velvet one."

"you still up for tomorrow?" you ask sipping on your own drink content as ever, like it is indeed the best thing you have ever tried — "i'll make you the best pasta i promise, so good you'll be begging for my recipe and i wont be able to share it you know? since it's a family secret."

"wouldn't dare to miss it."

"good. my place" you remind her before checking on your phone. "ava's going to a hike with some friends until tuesday, so we'll have the place alone."

"i won't forget, weirdo."

"i know you won't" and before she can say something you're standing, leaning down to hug her affectionate as usual — "you're like, the best fake girlfriend to ever exist. you never forget."

maybe it's a game, maybe not, but she cant ignore how her skin burns now beneath your kiss. vi's face turns red at the sudden intrusion and she can still feel the almost noticeable pressure from your lips against her cheek in a quick gentle goodbye-kiss, fingers against her face before pulling away.

"don't be late" you say now at a safe distance, waving your hand "see ya' tomorrow, text you later!"

and vi's torn cause she does want to go to your apartment that monday night, but she knows, heart-level-fucking-knows, she won't be able to ignore it all forever.

it's fair to say violet would be happy just to reach the end of it in one piece.

"do you like it? be honest" you ask staring at her only to see her physical reaction to your so-called best pasta in the world, and vi shakes her head in approval as the tomato sauce seems to add the perfect taste of it — "is that a yes? please elaborate."

"it's really good" she says, but in reality, she's too distracted by the way you cornered her out of nowhere as she arrive, making her try your food from a metal spoon you hold close to her mouth "you've been cooking all this time?"

"went to the market place, it's better with fresh ingredients" you explain as she marvels at the amazing smell in the kitchen as she's there not even five minutes ago "give me your rating."

"four and a half stars out of five," she answers "i like that you put a lot of spices on it. makes it smells really good and it adds to the flavor. i dig it."

"four? are you kidding me?" you take her opinion seriously, and vi cannot help but smile at your reaction “what’s wrong with it? what’s missing?”

“salt, maybe some rosemary” she suggest, making you think before reaching out to the cabinets where you keep species “but it’s good bug, i liked it a lot.”

“try again” no that's not an act. there's no one around. ava's not near, there's no one in the apartment, not a person close by to have you pulling up an act. no, that's you all over. that's you being close to her willingly as you take the spoon to dip it in the casserole slowly stirring under the fire, placing it close to her lips.

vi parts them to try the pasta once again, the perfect amount of salt and rosemary added now to the mix — “five stars, you happy now?”

“yeah i am” you reply cocky “shit. your shirt, it got stained” you use the same spoon to pick up on the sauce that fall into the cream-white fabric, but the stain’s already there, red and gigantic.

vi don’t really mind, but you’re apologizing and suggesting her to take one of your shirts instead and she cannot resist the idea of owning something you have, even borrowed, so she's dragging her shoes to your room, slower than ever cause she's curious in seeing what it is like, the clean spaces, the posters and the vinyls she spend a good time looking at before searching between your shirts.

and she’s there standing six minutes after using that paramore shirt you love, holding out a bag of weed with an almost shy smile cause now it's different, now she lacks of the motives to touch you freely like she does outside, pull you closer like she's used to.

"you brought weed?" you ask when you pay attention to her, checking the plates before taking both of them to the small table close to the sofa.

"it's an special occasion" vi replies 'cause it's true, on wednesday two weeks will pass and the deal will be officially over now and she's sure you cooking pasta means that very same — the fake break-up.

"we can't smoke inside."

"then outside, clinging to the window. you cannot say no to me."

"the balcony" you suggest before pointing out to the food — "but we eat first, it's not going to be that good if we leave now, it's a rule."

her stomach roars so she sits in the couch with nothing to say, leaving the weed in the table. the smell makes her mouth water cause it's so good it deserves to have all five stars, she's not really used to have artisanal pasta but it's good enough to want more, so much she believes in your words now when you said it's the best pasta in the world.

pathetic as ever cause she'd eat anything you cook for her no questions ask and rate it four and a half star just to piss you off.

"amazing, this is restaurant level pasta bug" vi praises, and it makes her breathing stop for a moment when she notices the nervousness in your actions soon after, the sweat in your hands when she handled you the weed to let you roll the joint after you eat.

"glad you like it" you say to her words "my family owns a pasta restaurant so we take it very seriously."

"that's why, so you're like a pasta prodigy or something-"

"oh shut up. you really are so annoying."

a piece of her dies on your couch that night, using her hand as a barrier so she's close to you with the excuse she's preventing the weed to fall on any sudden movement, and you're not saying anything when you're breathing close to her hands and your tongue darts out to lick the paper.

easy, everything you do you make it look so easy. talent after talent you seem to do everything right and it's such a turn on it's fucking insane. vi follows you outside and she chuckles when she notices the small balcony you talked about, cause she thought it would be a nice, comfortable place rather than a small spot that makes you stand close as ever when your chest is pressed against hers and you're smiling guilty as ever.

"we can smoke downstairs if you like" the only thing preventing her from falling are the thick, metal railings and it could trigger anyone's vertigo, but she focus on you instead of the three floors that separated her from the ground, being so close has all the ingredients to make anyone nervous, a thing she don't mind at all cause it's just what she needs, have you irrevocably close "don't want you dying all sudden violet. it's safer."

"we're fine here, i got you" vi replies, and her hand holds the railing behind you, keeping you safe too as you light up the joint. no, she don't mind being that close, and you don't either, comfortable as ever when you're smoking and the moon hits the back of your head so she has this image of you she wants to hold by heart.

it's on her memories, rooted in her chest now in stone cause the white cast glows against your hair and its like a vision there in the middle of the night. red, glassy eyes you stare at her for a moment with nothing to say, and she can feel the burn of your gaze in her skin, digging holes whenever you look as if you're trying to trespass her very being as she stares at you.

it's a new look, a look violet have never had the pleasure to experience before, one she's sure it's reserved for someone else — nonetheless you're there with her, in an small balcony smoking from her weed, so close she can see the moles on your skin now.

"who you bought that from?" you ask, alone now even the silence feels different, sharper and thicker than ever — "seems really good quality."

"it is," in reality, vi spend a good amount of money cause she wants to surprise you with something nice too, not a gift but a memory you can hold on to like a hidden treasure, and there in the small place with the moon radiating its ethereal glow, the weed leaves that taste of raspberry in her mouth and you're looking so beautiful in a shirt stained with flour and a big hoodie, zipping it all the way up to the middle trying to protect yourself from the cold currents of wind, it's already an outer world experience — "a friend from a friend- it's a long story, but if you want to i can get some for you."

vi would like to say it's the weather the one who's giving her the chills, but the way you look at her makes every hair on her body stand on its own and she becomes a victim of the electricity, of the tension that wraps the air around you and her. you're passing her the joint, smoking from it as she holds it between two fingers, and she's reminded once again of the kiss you've shared with her not so long ago, the need to angle your face again to make it fit perfectly against her own.

her brain is melting away slowly.

"are you going to keep being my friend after this, bug?" the question lingers in the air and she can see how you stop breathing for a second, the slight movement of your brows from up close as you seem to think about it, makes her hate the silence.

"do you want to be my friend?" there's a hint of wonder in your voice, and vi would take anything you offer, anything at all at this point so unsure already when she knows your heart belongs to someone else, someone she don't want to replace or steal you from "after bugging you all this time?"

"that was the deal at first, i do want to be your friend" the admission leaves you breathless, cause she's so forward with it, eyes piercing yours like she's trying to get inside your brain and hear your very own thoughts — "i'll keep doing your history essays even if you want to. happy to help."

it's pitiful cause vi has reached the level where she'd do something she hates dearly to keep you close, and when her words make you laugh, her heart stops in her chest for a whole minute, blue eyes following the movements of your lips as you shake your head.

"i'll help you out with anatomy, i don't mind. you don't need to do my essays, it's just an excuse to hang out with you."

her knees fail for a second, and her knuckles turn white from the force she's using to grip the railing behind you, believing she's the one who's going to end up dizzy enough to slip and fall, leaning against you as your arms surround her tightly, worried already.

"let's go down" you insist, but how does she explain it? how does vi explain the need to have you close? she needs the excuse, the pretense of being in an small space to have you close without giving away how very into you she really is "i'm serious vi."

"you're growing soft on me or what? i'm okay, my leg hurt from training, made a bad movement" you buy the excuse, still holding onto her by one arm now, finger hooked in her belt as a way to keep her secured of any random movement "you're going to keep your hand there?"

"yes, i am if your leg's being weird" you state, and vi cannot act pissed at the feel of your hand in her pants, the mere thought already making her head spin — "don't act like i'm dramatic, we've been in way more intimate situations and i'm making sure your feet stay there in the ground."

so she's leaning into you, making no movement to push you away: how could she ever choose to smoke with you downstairs when a tiny balcony is all that she needs to have you like that for twenty minutes? even when she's blushing at your blunt words, she don't care to hide it from your gaze already aware of the red that creeps upon her neck into your shirt.

"what are you thinking about?" vi asks trying to be casual about it "is the weed that good?"

"when's your next hockey match?" you reply — "next thursday?"

"yeah, by seven" she don't seem to understand it at first before you suddenly add: "do you want to break up next week instead of wednesday? i dunno, its not fair before the game don't want to make us look bad."

is it so evident you're trying to gain more days with her? is violet imaging it all?

"yes," she would take more weeks if you offered them, more dates in coffees, bad movies in cinemas, random story times in packed frat parties "yeah i think it's a good idea."

"good," you seem almost relieved by it, and she wonders why exactly when she's so evident when it comes to you, under your spell every single time you say something. "we'll talk which day next week, no rush."

"why are you surprised by it?" vi can't help but comment on it, scanning your face as she blurts out the words without much thinking "you know i'd do anything you say."

you're always all over, always too close and she don't mind it at all.

vi dies again a second time there, suffering from these little deaths in the worst moments as the silence fills the air again and you're looking at her with that eyes she knows so damn well already it makes her stomach flutter at the realization.

"what are you doing?"

"nothing" you do so little to hide it, the constant pull on your finger tugging on her belt, the natural light colliding against your skin. you do no effort in look somewhere else, drinking in the details of vi's face cause you already know it. too many cheek kisses, to many caresses under the premise it's an act "i'm doing nothing."

"why are you looking at me like that, huh?"

"i'm looking at you like i always do."

"there's no one around to pretend with" you don't really need a reminder as vi looks around trying to search for some other person looking "no, bug. this is you on your own so please tell me — is this how you usually look at all your friends?" her question lingers in the air for a second, and it hits you when she speaks again with a devastating truth, "like you want them to be a part of you?"

"you're a friend" you stumble in your own words, and even when the joint has already turned off, she doesn't pay attention to it as your words reach her racing heart "i don't- you know i don't look at them like that."

"then please care to tell me how you look at them" she insists "cause that look right there is a look you give when you've dreamed about someone, bug."

and your skin feels hot, but you're good to ignore it even when vi's pulling you closer, finally erasing the limits to fade into you instead, arms wrap around your waist with a gentleness that scares.

"tell me to stop" she cannot longer resist it by then, the car crashes in her head and there's nowhere to escape as she's trapped there in the pilot seat. it's monday and she cannot fight the need to say it, to taste the sweetness on your lips once again, the pliant curves of your body, the need to be one with you, blend into a mix — "please tell me that i'm a creep. that you don't want me around anymore after this."

"no," you're quick to shake your head as vi's hand slide down the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the pounding skin of your pulse point and it's so sudden by then, the way her breathing hoovers against your flesh leaving a single kiss on the crook of your neck — she's been there before, faking a kiss that was now very much real ones "no don't stop, please."

to hell with it. she's all fucking in.

"i see your face everywhere you know that? i hear your laugh in every quiet moment, smell your shampoo in my sleep" fuck the weed, fuck the joint and fuck the rest of the world when the words slip from her mouth as she works her way in sloppy, wet kisses through the expanses of your neck, going up to your jaw "i think about you all the damn time, in the middle of class, when i'm training, when I'm tryin' to fucking sleep."

"you haunt me," it's a whispered confession vi needs to get out of her chest as her breathing mingles with yours in a warm mix — "in all glory. i wake up and i'm aching already because my skin’s too tight for my body. and i know... i know it's because of you."

“i’m sorry,” you say in a low voice, apologizing even when it's not your fault at all, makes her want to tear her own skin apart “i’m sorry vi, it’s not my intention to make you ache.”

“this on me, bug” she reassures you “i’m the one who’s been losing my damn mind over you.”

she wants the moment to last. vi relishes in the privacy of it, the look in your face when her kisses leave saliva in your neck, how your skin reacts to her touch now knowing it's real and on her side, willingly.

"i don't mind- i don't mind it at all, you see?" she asks, betrayed by the need on her tone, how her words lace up with a hunger you can recognize "you see what you're doing to me? how affected you got me?"

it's you this time, like you're settling the score even as you kiss her. and it's real. real than ever she believes, real as you are there on her lips, fingers tight against the waistband of her pants cause you want her closer, closer than fucking ever.

and it's messy but vi loves it. your kiss it's all teeth and tongue, desperation, need. it's your saliva all over, the taste of the joint in your lips she's quick to pick and it's just as soft, just as inviting as that saturday night she holds in her heart.

the thought is stuck there with her for a while.

vi finds out she did die a third time that night, and that she would gladly do it again cause when you ask for more kisses she bends like a willow, and it's the closer she's been to listening to heaven.

it's very safe to say violet vanderson has officially stopped fighting against the cliché this season.

you don't text the next day.

you don't text on wednesday either, and vi's sure by you're ignoring her by thursday already overthinking about being so intense with all this liking thing that was getting out of her hands. what she don't know, is how you really are spiraling into your own madness by the course of the week.

it was a pretty simple job at first: get ava. you put effort on it since you really like her, her sense of humor, her way of being — you really are into your roommate, been living with her what? six months already? she's easy to talk to, so pretty it hurts, and you surely have a list of things you love about her.

why it's so confusing then? if your feelings were se clear, so profound. it wasn't a difficult task whatsoever, and violet does an incredible job pretending you're the last glass of water in the dessert: why is so impossible now? making up excuses so your fake break-up don't come up until next week.

this whole thing was ridiculous, starting out for thinking pretending was going to be a good idea cause you get used to it, to the tattoo on her cheek, the foreign warmth of her fingers brushing against your skin, her kisses. it’s getting in your head now so by monday night, your last string of coherence jumps out of the balcony to end up asking for more kisses you crave then like no one else will.

it's a need, a feverish need cause your lips are sore by the end of the night, and vi's reluctant when pulling away. you want more yet it's not good, not possibly good cause this whole thing started out for someone else and you're unsure — do you really like ava now?

everything fall on it's own, cause by thursday night your roommate’s knocking on your door in the of middle the night saying she wants to see a movie, bringing up her laptop to place it between the two of you like a barrier, one ava's good to surpass when she's leaning to rest her head against your shoulder.

it's meaningless at first, you're concentrated on watching so you're unaware of ava's tactics to distract you.

"how it's everything going with the i-like-girls subject?" you ask at the lack of interest in the film — "any other revelation from the sky?"

"not really" she says, and the talking seems to make her confident all sudden when she's resting her head in your legs now and you have a good view of her in an oversized shirt you've seen as a pajama before "not any advance, i have interest in some particular girl now."

"oh. makes sense."

you don't know how to explain how everything shifted all sudden, but it's what you wanted right? what you plot from the beginning as ava's pulling her laptop to the side only to kiss you comfortably: it's what you've been craving for months, the soft touch of her hands slipping beneath your shirt, the breathy moans she gives against your mouth when you're gripping on her thigh.

so why the fuck does it not feel as rewarding as it should? you're kissing on fucking violet three nights ago and you only know her by two weeks now, but your stomach twist in knots at the touch, the intimacy of it — but with ava? the girl you've been talking to your friends about for like three months now? not a damn thing and it’s so unfair.

you kiss her again and she's a damn mess. she tastes like bubblegum and it's too sweet for moment but you force yourself to it. pull yourself together as ava's straddling your lap now and you can already smell her arousal in the air, the way she grinds in your leg seeking for friction.

get it fucking together: please.

you should love it too. drown in her, keep ava in your bed like you've thought about multiple times, but despite all your efforts to want her, you find yourself pushing your roommate away, grabbing her shoulder to gently peel her off your body to put some reasonable distance between the two of you.

"hold on," you say catching on your breath, and she seems struck for a moment trying to understand what's going on — "i can't do this."

"did i do something wrong?"

"no, not at all you're perfect" you admit shaking your head, and she's sitting now in bed, fixing how high her shirt was, aware of your rejection "it's me, ave. i'm really sorry."

"it's my fault- you have a girlfriend" you don't bother to clear up the truth cause you want ava to believe that. in fact. you want everyone to keep believing that "i should go-"

there's not a way to not make it awkward cause you just tossed months of crushing on a girl to the trash because of a stupid feeling you don't know how to control. you're realizing it an hour or so after being left alone in your room, door closed as you sigh in defeat: you need to see violet again.

so fuck texting, absolutely fuck calling.

you’re getting dressed in the middle of the night as you check on your phone, and you don't seem to care about how it's past midnight when your jumping on to buckle on your black jeans, hiding in a big hoodie that covers you from the autumn air.

no.

you hold your phone and your keys before heading out, not bothering to let your roommate know due to obvious events, that you're leaving to spend the night somewhere else; and the cold of the night does not bother you, instead, it's refreshing as your feet follow the path to her place on it's own trying to distract yourself from thinking, regret it.

it’s not very clear on why you carry your sketchbook and the shirt she stained on monday night now fresh from the laundry with you, the need to give an excuse maybe? hell. you should be kissing ava.

even when you avoid it, it's all about vi in the end.

it makes you want to punch yourself when you end up running cause you can’t wait, can’t possibly wait for it any longer after avoiding her texts like they’re poison.

"what are you doing here?" vi asks when you knock on the door too many times, making her grumpy as she lazily stands to open.

"your shirt. i came to bring your shirt."

"it's one in the morning, and you only came for a shirt?" she’s leaning against the doorframe, not believing it for a second as she holds the shirt in her hand "what's that?" — "your sketchbook?"

"yeah" now, in front of her you start to chicken out a little. her eyes look at the black book in your hands as you, once again, regret appearing out of nowhere so late in the night, the adrenaline seemingly washing away by the seconds "were you sleeping?"

"bug," her tone is tired almost, shaking her head before speaking again "you’ve been ignoring me since we kissed on monday, and you're here because of a shirt? tell me the truth. stop avoiding it."

you cannot hide it.

but you try to make up another excuse either way, pathetic when the seconds pass and you don’t come up with anything but silence — “i’m sorry,” you say, and you hate it cause you’ve been apologizing a lot for the night already.

“what’s on your mind?” vi’s crossing her arms against her chest, demanding an answer “tell me. why are you really here so late?”

"i don't know what else to do, i needed to see you" you're under the spotlight for a second, but the words come out before you can think about what you're saying so out of nowhere "the shirt's an excuse, my sketchbook too, i just wanted to see you."

"did the kiss scare you off?"

"yes. it fucked me up right in the brain" you let her know, and when you see the slight smile on her lips — almost a gesture vi tries to avoid, your heart seems to keep on it's turbulent ride with no return "did it too well 'cause you're all that i care about lately. you're my first thought in the morning and my deepest agony in the nights, and you've done it, i don't how. i don't care, but you've ruined all my plans."

the honesty catches vi off guard, her brows furrowing together for a second as she's aware of the strain in your voice, how this has come to affect you as much as she's affected.

"i don't care about ava no longer, you ruined her for me" it's almost like you're mad at yourself at it, shaking your head as you still blurt out your problems outside her doorframe "i don't give a shit 'cause i'm making up excuses to keep being your fake girlfriend. motives to keep you close. but you go there so openly kissing me when no one's looking and sweet fuck do you too understand, how there's no one like you?-"

vi doesn't let you finish when just like you did in her balcony, she hooks her finger on the waistband of your jeans now, using an small amount of force to pull you forward until she can close the door beneath you and finally corner you against the thick wooden door.

unlike ava, everything's slow. her hands wraps around your waist and you can feel it in her skin, in the tight embrace she keeps you in as her face hides in the curve of your neck she knows by memory. it would be so easy to fake you're not consumed by her, put some distance and never see vi again, but she's kissing on your skin again like it happened on monday, and whatever you wanted to say dies in your throat, moving your head to the side to give more space to her hungry touch.

"i'd ruin ava for you again," vi admits, proud of her own actions "you're better off with me anyway."

after so many kisses her teeth finds the right spot to bite and make you shiver, and she holds you still, right against the door and leaving no room to move without her noticing — broad figure towers over you and you close your eyes at the pressure of her mouth in your neck, the slight pain that comes with it that makes you moan at the contact.

"i'm trying to talk to you," you try to say, and she hums like she's giving you the reason "vi- don't be mean, listen to me."

"i am mean and i don't listen" she agrees with you, like somehow it will solve everything as she's too busy leaving soft kisses on your cheek before her mouth barely touch the corner of your lips.

her breathing’s warm, her touch almost reverent as vi’s hands finds their way beneath your hoodie and she's pushing on the lower part of your back to have you closer, until she’s intoxicated in you.

"i’m paying attention, bug" she says, taking a minute to look at you even at the lack of lights on her dorm room "keep telling me about how i ruined it all, how you're crazy about me- i'm listening."

"i was with her just now- you don't care?"

"no, i don't" vi shakes her head not even amused, and her breathing mixes up with yours as she's invading your space without an invitation "i don't care if you were. you are here now. you are here with me."

so that's how it starts, like everything's on fire and it slowly burns to ashes in your mind.

she knows the grounds of your body like it's holy terrain, too many hugs, too many times with you seated on her lap, gentle touches vi hold by memory until she's free to touch now without retaliation, when her hands are finally roaming around to grab you by the ass and squeeze it as she muffles any complaint against the hollow of her mouth.

and it's a kiss she needs to repeat multiple times more, one that steals the air from her lungs as your hand pulls on the strands of her cherry hair, parting your lips cause it's a kiss you want to carry under your skin, like a stamp on your brain. she deepens it like her life much depends on it, and her tongue — warm and playful, pushes against yours at it discovers once again the place she has experienced before.

there's nothing else to say: you're there now. you picked her.

despite all your efforts on fake dating, of being already whispering for another person in the beginning: you choose violet.

"what's in the sketchbook?" vi asks, fingers are warm against your skin, and the hoodie you took to protect yourself from the cold is no longer necessary when it now lays on the floor. vi's tank top is quick to follow, and you can't help but stare at her for a good moment, the heartbeats on your chest devastating as usual.

it's intimate. you've had sex before, pretty girls that stole your breath even but that's a whole different level, you've never experience that feeling in your chest, that need in your hands when they touch bare skin and you're greeted with a crave that goes far beyond sex and the act of it.

"drawings. drawings of you from when we studied together."

shattering. she's gentle cause vi wants to savor it: what's the point in the rush? she's taking her time in touching, in pulling your shirt upwards little by little. she kisses you until your lips are puffy and you are clouded by a haze of lust as you try to mark the skin of her chest, yet it's a fight, cause she's the one who wants to taste you first, the one who wishes to blow your mind before anything.

vi didn't plan any of it — in all reality, she tried to fight it as much as she could, but you're letting her walk you down to her messy bed, wrinkled sheets still holding on her body heat when you're resting against them and she lets you win. vi's placing herself between your legs and the space is small, but once again small spaces are unexpectedly good cause she has no other option but to be all over you, helping you get off your pants as they are tossed close to your hoodie.

"touch you-" she struggles to ask "can i touch you?"

"please," it's a dangerous feeling what installs in vi’s chest. once again, she's utterly affected by the color of your eyes, how they take her to a brief journey to the moon, the plea in your tone that makes her forget about the lack of messages the last two days, how you suddenly distanced yourself because you were scared. "stop asking and please just touch me already."

it makes her feel desired when her fingers touch you from over the underwear and you're already wet, the fabric clinging to your lips already soaked and ready for her, it makes vi breathe out heavily as she's aware of how debouched she can get you by some kisses, words.

you're her favorite nightmare, cause she has dreamed about that very moment before but it does not come near by how devastating you really are. a force of nature as vi's making your underwear to the side, so sensitive when she's just using a couple of fingers to spread you open, have a good sight of your pussy as she fights the idea to go down on you already.

her mouth waters as you shiver, unable to hold the reaction in as she seems to be lost in the soft texture of soaked pussy. she rubs against your clit slow at first like she's letting you get used to her touch first before she's taunting your entrance with a couple of digits.

"you're really tight huh?" she asks when her fingers begin to push just slightly, making your breathing get stuck in your throat as you whine at the intrusion — "there bug, breathe. can't finger-fuck you like this. let yourself feel good, soak your pretty panties for me.”

“gods- vi” you moan, and the sound itself is so hot she stares at you for a minute “i can take your fingers ah- i can.”

“i know princess, i know you can” she smiles at your need to please, to do and be reminded how good you’re doing “let your greedy hole relax for me so i can fill it out f’you, you feel so warm already.”

it’s chaotic and vi wished she put on a towel beneath before, a pain she quickly forgets about when you’re putty in her fingers, walls clenching against her intrusive fingers as she shoves them in one more time, pulsating cunt opening and getting used to her as your back arches against the bed presenting to her wide open.

she uses a hand to keep you there. spreaded you like she wants you to be, even when you’re shaking involuntarily and her fingers withdrawal entirely before she pushes them back again knuckles-deep in your tight channel.

“suck me back in, get used to me” she says as your pussy makes room for her slender digits, filling you just right until they curve to hit on a special spot she discovers in awe— “there it is- there baby? does it feel good there?”

and your tits bounce with each thrust, your arousal gathers in the palm on vi’s hand, and she’s drunk already, drunk in you and the sounds you make, your incoherent words asking for more, begging to be fucked harder. you move against her fingers and your cunt makes this filthy sound it makes her moan already dampening her own underwear.

“yes- fuck yes” you moan, your arms can barely hold you up now as you fall against your elbows, and vi can feel the moment you squeeze her fingers, the inconsistency on the movements of your hips — “feels s’good vi, filling me up so good.”

it’s pride that installs in her chest, helping you move since you’re too dumb to function from yourself: it’s so fucking nice since you’re barely holding in by a thread, the mount of her hand brushing against your clit and she knows you’re close, but instead of giving you time to breathe, play with you a little, she’s too desperate, yanking at the fabric of your bra just get rid of it.

her mouth closes around your breast, and the sweat on your skin feels salty, aphrodisiac as she marks the skin sucking until it’s a whole different color, harshly biting on the stiffed peak of your nipple.

“you gonna cum?” she asks, breathing against your skin “god-you’re squeezing me so tight-”

the pain mixes up deliciously, and you can’t speak nor gather words in your mouth who can let vi know how close you really are, but she reads it in your body language, in the way your legs shake and you really struggle to keep them apart.

“keep them spread let me see you,” her tone is gentle even when she’s destroying you at it’s finest, as her fingers curl inside your sensitive cunt and she rubs inside that spot inside of you she's very much aware of now — “if you’re going to cum, you might as well do it good.”

her leg pushes yours open, and you’re trapped there beneath her weight, her bites on your skin that will leave marks that won’t come out for days. your moans get louder by the seconds and it’s that thing you need to let the orgasm pour in, hot lava against your skin as your body tenses up and you’re shaking in her hands.

and vi picks it up in no time, fingers nestled inside you, moving them ever so slightly as you come undone. the sight itself makes her sure she’s leaking against her underwear, the sweat on your skin that makes you glow against the barely illuminated sheets messier than ever.

"hush," vi says seconds after as your pleasure subsides, not giving you much time to recovery after it "don't want the whole building to hear-"

her fingers, wet from your arousal, trace the corners of your mouth, the seam of your lower lip as a silent invitation. you make delicious sounds, yet they’re so loud vi ends up shoving the same fingers she fucked you with now in your mouth trying to muffle them a little.

and it’s inviting even, the vibrations your sweet moans make as she pushing her digits further, making you taste yourself as she finally shuts you up.

vi's cunt's already slick when she's pulling on her underwear away, makes you switch places with her as her head falls against the pillows now for a second when you're placing yourself between her parted legs, tangled limbs as you settle your cunt against her's and: hell.

her fingers push against your throat making you choke on them, and you can hear the sound vi makes when you move on top of her again, pussy already glistening with arousal as it rubs deliberately against her's, almost a kiss as you can feel when every inch of her is already throbbing against you.

swollen clit, schlick sounds fill the air — it's filthy, almost diabolical when your sweat mixes up with her, when body fluids are not gross and instead, you crave every inch you can get.

"fuck peach, you're so wet," vi mutters under her breath, and a hand slips to grope your tits, rolling the stiffed nipple between her fingers "ah- s'fucking crazy how your pretty pussy was made to fit mine."

her words slur together and it makes you smile, makes you feel good as her hands force you to move on top of her, only adding to the sensation when her finger goes further down now to massage your clit, braindead as your movements become more erratic by the seconds, uncontrolled.

"come on baby, you're doing so good" vi praises, encouraging you to keep on moving as her digits slide so fucking easy between your legs, allowing them to touch how needy she makes you, how fast she's able to reduce you to pieces — "you gonna cum all over my cunt, baby? s'that it?"

vi loves every minute, the moans that fill the air and you try so hard to muffle, the distortion on your face as you force yourself to keep moving even when your legs shake in response, your body gives up and you function in autopilot.

drool slides down her arm, using her fingers to slowly fuck your mouth with them, an smile stirs vi's lips upwards as she can see the white traces of your arousal mixing up with her own in a delicious mix between your legs, unable to answer her questions as you're too busy being choked on her digits.

"use your words, love" it's the fucked out expression that gets her, hole already clenching around nothing as strings of white cum connect you to her "you can do it, you're a good girl."

"sweet fuck-vi," you breathe out when she's withdrawing her fingers out, and your voice is rougher now than ever, raspy as saliva drips down your chin. you're much aware of the lewd sound of her cunt in constant contact with yours, holding her hand before lacing your fingers with vi's as she encourages you to keep on moving.

you need an anchor.

it's slow and torturing, the greatest cruelty as each roll of your hips bring you deliciously close to the edge, little by little as the wet from vi's arousal gathers in your thighs, the expanses of your cunt — fuck you're going to cum like this.

theres silence in the room now, but violet appreciates it more than ever cause she can listen to your hitched breathing, lips swollen now from how much you've been using them, the slick, lewd sounds of your pussy against her own.

her vision fade to black when she cums, gripping on your waist like she needs to hold herself from flying to the damn moon, moving you until you're shaking on top of her and your eyes swell up with tears before you cum too, oversensitive when you pant out her name as she holds you close.

"i got you," she whispers, but she don't stop moving you against her soaked, sensitive pussy in response — "i got you peach. it's okay m'not going anywhere."

it means more than just a promise, more than just something tossed to the air as she lets you rest on top of her, ten minutes until she's moving you to switch places once more, making you lay on her pillows now comfortable.

and you look at her searching for an explanation, but vi already has one when she's leaving soft kisses agains your lower belly.

"gonna try how good we taste together, it will only be a moment."

fake girlfriends right? what a fucking joke.

it's awfully good.

dangerously good when you're trapped with vi the next days. a good way of saying it cause she got you in her practices now that she settles with the team you really are off-limits, on your free times and by night when you whine about how small her bed is for two persons now that you spend time there in her room.

it's been three days and no one's surprised by the kisses, by the touches, by the way she cannot be seen without you around, and it could be nothing to the rest already used to it, but to vi's a damn rollercoaster, one she's experiencing like never before.

she's allowed to stole kisses now, to touch — and she' so clingy about it.

ellie makes fun of her and abby won't shut up when she sees the two of you in the same room, but vi likes it. makes her feel weirdly good. so much she don't think about her on and off story with sarah, how she's been hearing rumours all over because you're on her mind.

she becomes addicted to your kisses by friday, and it don't take long but she wants you in her arms every second of the day she's not expected to do something and it's like before, surprising enough is like when you dragged her to the rims, when you bring her complex coffees with weird smells she hates.

she even spends the weekend latched in your back even when you explain you have to study — "i'll help you out, i swear" she promises, but she does nothing but distract you when she's sitting on top of you, hands kneading the gloves of your ass until you're leaving your books unattended and vi smiles cause she has your attention to her now.

it was good, faking it. slide in the stole caresses, the kisses who where to mislead others — but that's the real thing, better than ever when no one knows you're melting there cause she kisses you on top of her motorbike you're still reluctant to ride, making you hug her as the wind blows your hair in what you call bike therapy and there's no other place she needs to be, another person she needs around.

she makes you part of her life with an ease that was already there, an small extra step as she goes to find you right after classes, giving you at least fifteen good reasons about how you should be spending the afternoon with her instead of drawing and working there on your own.

yes. violet vanderson is so in love with your mess. your painted hands when you get so into drawing, the images of her in your sketchbook she had no idea you were doing but they're etched on each page until there's no more space.

it's a silent agreement. she don't have to say anything cause you understand her, and vi gets you too. a sense of belonging she never had until that moment.

it's a rare side she barely shows, with you only. she's always a bit distant from the rest, reserved, but on the intimacy of your shared moments she seems nothing but the contrary — constantly craving for attention, for love and whispered words of wanting.

it's weirdly good until the catharsis comes on sunday, when vi's picking you up to go to this party you don't really want to go on the first place. the music's loud, and you crave to see a good movie in your room beneath at least five blankets, but you're by her side cause you know it's a party in honor to the hockey team, a way of wishing good luck since they've won every single match in the season now with a streak of gold.

and you pay no attention to it, but sarah's there too, and unlike any other time she's there cause she wants to talk to vi now that she's cozy enough to call you her girl so blatantly, mainly because she's mad since she can't believe vi would choose anyone over her.

it's not her fault either — sarah's in love and love hurts like a dagger. so when you say you're going to the bathroom, she's already talking to her without a previous warning.

"violet," she greets with a smile, looking extra beautiful tonight cause she puts effort on her look. she wants to make an impression, want her ex to remember her in the best moments they shared together "how are you? haven't seen you for a while."

things are never simple. love constantly hurts. sarah knows it by herself when she's leaning too close, when she's touching vi's arms as the conversation goes on by the minutes.

"i miss you" she says after, and vi has been there before. in the sweet words and the whispered lies "this thing you got with her- are you serious about it? you really like her?"

her words are low, low enough so only vi could hear, close so she's punched by the smell of her shampoo, long nails scratching on her skin — sarah's going to kiss her if she allows her to keep all touchy like that. vi can feel the mint on her breath colliding in her skin and it's wrong, wrong now since she don't want it at all, cause sarah's far from her mind now, long gone for months and a person she wants to avoid.

and vi's about to push her away, explain how yes she's very serious about you, but she's pushed in an awkward kiss instead that paralyzes her for a moment, makes her brain stop for a long second cause she's not expecting it, the sudden contact of her ex girlfriends hands as she steals a kiss, how random all was.

"what the fuck," she breathes out when she's pushing sarah away, but it's clearly late when she can spot you from the corner of her eye already leaving the party, not really looking in her way as you exited the house — "what the fuck was that?"

she don't bother to hear sarah's explanation when she's too busy running after you, she don't need one. things are long finished, and vi wants to explain that to you when the cold weather from outside's making her skin shiver.

"wait-" she calls you out — "fuck, wait up!"

from where you looked, this was far beyond a simple interaction. after all the times you heard she wanted to make clear she was over sarah you know there's a lot of history. she's there looking hot as ever as she bats her eyelashes and leans dangerously close to vi's mouth — and you're looking like a fool.

it's a punch in the face, one that feels deeper than any wound as vi don't seem to notice until you're leaving the place, heart pounding all over the place as you can feel the shame on your body like an old friend: she's there, kissing on sarah fortune when minutes before she was with you already handsy?

the night grows silent as you quickly walk away. like a shame walk back home cause there's no fucking way you're riding her motorbike ever again.

is it betrayal? the two of you never settled anything more than a fake relationship — or maybe, it's the utter fear in the pit of your stomach cause you like her more than you expected?

"please- don't leave-" vi says catching on her breath "sarah there- it's not what you're thinking."

"it's okay vi. you don't owe me any explaining" you talk without much emotions on your face: you should have insisted on movie night.

"i do. you know i do" she's quick to reply, shaking her head in denial "i care about what you think, you're so damn important to me, sarah she's-"

"listen. you're not my girlfriend" you remind her, and in all sense of the word, she isn't. you never talked about being in a relationship with her, neither did vi mentioned it in the four days of paradise "it's better if we keep things like they were before, we're at the perfect time until it's too late. i'm fake dating you."

vi has experienced pain before yes. the air being stolen from her lungs, but your words sink in like a finger twisting against a bullet hole in her shoulder, cold as ever as her brows furrow in response — you're too pissed to listen.

"this is a misunderstood," she insists, "you know it's not like that. this is real. what we have is real, please just- hear me."

"we've made the limits too blurry," you try to explain, and in the cold air you shiver against the cold weather of autumn and she wants to give you her scarf to protect you from the air knowing you'll say no, standing at a safe distance in front of you — "you kissing on sarah it's what we needed vi. the push we were lacking to break this fake thing. i can't hold it no longer, we've fucked it up."

"bug. don't do this."

"it's the agreement we had first place," you interrupt, already annoyed as you shove your hands inside the pockets of your jacket and vi can't stand it. can't stand the disappointment in your voice as you speak — "we broke the rules we settled in the first place. i like you more than i ever know, i'm going to your practices, riding your bike- it's not what we agreed upon."

"it wasn't real. the rules they were never real" there's desperation in her tone vi does not care to hide anymore, taking a step closer to you. "don't tell me you believed in them, i broke them the very same day we settled them. they are not real, never counted."

it's almost like she's saying it over and over again to calm down the fire on her chest, the flames that rises in her lungs as she breathes in the cold air sober than ever.

"you have things to talk with your ex still vi, and i'm not really good in the equation. i don't want to be involved in whatever you have going on with her, it's your business. make up your mind first."

she wants to insist, make you stop right there even when she's close to have a frostbite to this point, freezing cold as you, cold as ever, continue your way and leave her standing her, trying to make sense of it all.

you never fucking listen.

so you disappear and it's like a dream all over when she's going back to the house, expectant of waking up in her wrinkled sheets with you already using more than half of the bed.

but vi never wakes up and she knows you're right at some point.

she needs to talk with sarah.

you'd catalogue it as a supersonic sunburst.

a ray of sunshine coming up from between the clouds that blinds you momentarily, fast like the speed of sound — supersonic.

she's like a supersonic sunburst.

violet vanderson's able to crawl under your skin to live there with you without knowing, and when she's missing, there's a hollow inside you even you were perfectly great before when you had no idea of her oh so important existence.

it's nothing to the point it becomes everything because you miss her too. scared of actually fall in, of let her know the way to your heart.

news are fast cause by the next day people in the party's already commenting on what happened: vi kissing her ex? it's all they talk about in whispered confessions when you're around, walking in campus in black shades cause you refuse to let people think you're even slightly affected by her and whatever relationship she had now with sarah.

you let them speak due to your lack of good choices when it comes to picking a fake girlfriend with a reputation that followed. it was a part of the deal and you're taking your part in it. fair.

even ava seems to take pity of you when she's talking to you again, and it's a huge relieve cause you were sure she was going to politely ask you to find for another place to live when in reality, she's offering you from the pizza she ordered like a truce, being all sensitive when she's asking about your emotional status as she heard things.

everybody seems to add something new, even yourself as you're aware on the late news that spread throughout the campus by tuesday morning: vi's back with sarah again, she's saving her a seat for the thursday game, they were together in the rims.

and loneliness suits you better. you like to think about that cause you're forgotten and left out this love triangle like you asked before, and it's funny cause you agreed in something entirely different in the beginning, but you don't get the pretty girl in the end, and vi, even when she’s so invested in pushing her ex away, ended up gaining the whole contrary.

four days of heaven it's not near enough to cover the time you needed with her, but your pride it’s too big to let down so when she stops texting you, you subtly understand it’s because she got someone new: some things are better left unsaid.

you crave to be loved, to be need and wanted, but to be loved is to be bare under the naked eye: three weeks with violet and you’re what? crushed because her pretty ex is back? better to have a broken heart now before you’re in too deep.

you're officially done with the world of love. at least it's what you keep repeating to you and your close ones, that worried friend that insists on knowing how you're doing over text: you're done with love, and impossible, borderline stupid crushes.

"are you ever going to get out of your room?" ava asks as she enters the space, opening the curtains "it really smells like death in here."

"no i'm not" you reply, tired from being up all night watching on some tv series as a way to subside with your bad luck lately — "i'm gonna finish the last season of yellowjackets, actually. heard shauna's a real bitch in there."

"listen to me, i say this as a friend, but the smell in here, it's you" ava points out as she opens the window to let the air filter "my field trip will be over in a couple of days. after that, you're going out with me to see actual people. you need it."

"i'm okay."

"yeah. sure you are. please take a fucking shower before you kill us both due to intoxication, my eyes are watering."

"that's really over the top. dramatic even."

being friends with ava however, it's the weirdest thing you have ever experienced. you liked her since the moment you saw her, but now she's nothing but a good friend when she's taking the delivery food rests from the floor with a grossed look.

"if i see spider, i'm evicting you."

your recent friend has this geological field trips you don't understand much, but she's gone for a couple of days usually. maybe that's why on thrusday, you wake up paranoid as ever when you hear a noise coming out from your roommate's dorm.

you want to say you're crazy, but the sound's there again subtle and distant, as your brows furrow in concern: ava’s not in the house until tomorrow, and it's definitely not her when you can hear footsteps.

thieves. somebody got into ava’s room and they’re stealing all her stuff — “ave?” you ask out from the kitchen, receiving silence in response “you home earlier?”

to be fair, you don’t think much when you’re walking up to her door, opening up without a previous warning only to find out a scene you’re once again not welcomed in.

“what the fuck?” you can hear ava’s pitched voice when all suddenly stops and you froze for a moment “get out! why are you still here?”

it should be worst things in life that finding out your former crush is now with a redhead, right? — starting out for redheads kissing each other, cause that's a crime to society.

“don't you know how to knock?” she screams from the inside “i texted you yesterday telling you i was going to come home early, dumbass.”

“i'm so sorry” you reply on the other side of the door, holding on a laugh at the other side as you don't want to make her ever further mad — “there’s a lock you know? you can use it sometimes.”

“fuck off.”

however, you’re opening the door again to interrupt a new make out session much covered now, staring at the other girl you ignored before, the redhaired you did not recognize until you're blatantly checking on her.

“sarah. you’re fucking sarah fortune,” you state almost not believing it as you can feel the loud pounding in your chest at the realization, and ava's blushing the same shade of her messy hair as you point it out impressed "i'm gonna let you guys keep at that, you know? yeah. goodbye."

your mouth falls open when you're closing out the door at your back, and you're celebrating without making a sound as it was the most awkward moment of your life.

ava. ava's fucking sarah.

it's news you want to share, but none of your friends would understand how important it is, so you cannot do anything but keep it to yourself.

and it hits you as you go to room again ready to play some loud music so you don't hear anything — if sarah's there: does it mean she's not dating vi back again?

ah. fuck. maybe you'll need to swallow your pride a little bit.

vi's been thinking about you lately. quite a lot.

it starts like a memory in the morning. vi gets up earlier cause she got so much energy lately she don't know where to put it as she runs as much as she can for at least an hour, and it extends to the afternoon where she's sure her phone buzzed with one of your texts, when in reality, it's empty as you don't reply to any of her tries.

and it bring sadness by the night, when she's smoking on her own and the air's cold but she don't want to use a sweater since it's too peaceful to move, to remember she's alive again.

how is she so utterly affected by you?

she ends up overthinking about the brief story she shared with you on the course of almost three weeks in which she allowed you, in plain sight, to get closer to her than anyone to the point she's used to your company — her practices where she seems distracted as ever, her usually bad choices you prevent in the movies since she's always insisting in action movies.

she misses you, and it's her fault mainly when she let you in so easy, without much questioning. almost like you already belonged there.

"violet, you're in" to be fair. she don't want to play by thursday. she's not into the mood lately.

the place is packed and the other team is not giving up as they fight every second on the ice, yet vi's not really there. the game is on its peak point, there's tension and competition in the air, loud noises from the public already cheering on their preferred team, but she's insisting, over and over again, how she should be left in the benches since she's suffering from a strange pain in her shoulder: how is one of the greatest players in the team going to spend the whole game seated?

"i'll only slow the team- send akali" she suggests, but the coach shake her head as she screams to the referee "i'm not at my best."

"since when you're bothered by a little wound, vi?" the coach ask, and her nose wrinkles in defeat: never really, she's usually pushing through misery "there are recruiters out there looking for their next super star, now don't be dumb and get in the ice now."

it's harsh, what vi needed to hear as she's biting on her safety mouth guard before being pushed to the ice by the third and last period — she just wishes to survive.

you've slowly become a problem since the only thing you do, even when you're not near, is mess up with her head. she's being shoved and pushed by two minutes in, and she cannot get twenty minutes of silence when she spots you there in the seats using this red white and blue jersey with her number on it and it's just like the one she's wearing now.

you're there.

is it a dream? has she reached the point where she's hallucinating? maybe there's a rational explanation, maybe vi's brain so stressed lately it makes up things due to the adrenaline or something like that. makes sense. the rush.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? wake the fuck up-" ellie curses by her side when vi can feel the blood on her mouth as she's shoved to the side, roughly pushed against the border to crash her head against the thick protection plastic that surrounded the rink, the other team quickly reducing her offense to nothing as they score in their favor — "if we lose i'm going to kill you violet. i mean it."

despite the threats of her captain, vi forces herself to look again at the spot she saw you before and you're there again — worried as you tried to see how she was doing, wearing her shirt and she's lost for a moment.

you came.

it makes her breathing erratic, and for a moment she don't know if it's for the pain or that hazy feeling on her chest but you're there and it means so damn much to her as you smile at her for a moment and you shyly mutter a hi like you're not already wearing a jersey with her name on it.

she's mad at you. violet needs to stay mad at you cause you don't ever fucking listen, and she tried to explain so many times before she was never into sarah or whatever it may have seemed, how the kiss was actually against her will — how she was long done with her ex before you even came to the picture.

she wants to pause the game for a brief moment and demand you to listen to her now, make clear she never cared about sarah nor ava for once, but she values her life also cause ellie's already giving her a bad look as they are already on a bad situation, so even under your gaze she pays attention to the game.

it's what she loves, even when she's swallowing her own blood and she's sure there are going to bruises bigger than her hand, she's shouting to abby from the other side and in the blink of an eye — there it is. score.

the public shouts in the bleachers and to be a person that don't watch any kind of sports you really seem to enjoy the game as you never been into one before, celebrating with the rest: stay mad at you. she needs to remember, stay mad at you.

in the end, vi's filthy and reeking sweat, tossing her gloves powder's painted to the floor as a way of supporting her since she hates going to games and actually stay seated for two hours, the big helmet she holds in her hands before she's crushed in a hug from the team as they celebrated another victory.

golden streak.

her friends are shouting her name since she made the last point on their half, and even when it makes her feel good about it, she's searching for you in the room, an smile on your face as you looked at the celebration cause you're proud of her — she's really good in what she does.

you've seen her practices but a game was different. so you stay there hidden in the sea of the people around you, but vi can spot you right away since you got this light on your own she can pick up from the distance.

and the athlete can feel the weight of your eyes in hers, even at the distance she cannot enjoy a celebration under her name cause she aches to see you, needs to clear up some things before anything else, so she's awkwardly smiling to the greetings, acting polite as she skates her way out of the rink between jokes and hair scratches of the girls she has been playing for years: we're going to win this season if you keep up like this vi, leave some room for us mortals.

her cheeks are blushed since she's not really used to it, people praising on her so blatantly, but it gives her the confidence she needs to leave her ice skates on the floor.

"what are you doing?" abby asks when she notices she's not really going to the changing rooms but instead, about to jump out the small wall that separate the players seats from the public barefoot — "not celebrating with us?"

"later," vi says already in the other side "need to take care of something else first."

she don't receive an stupid joke back, refreshing almost as she climbs up the stairs. usually she takes a long shower after a game ready to celebrate but now, vi's walking between the people who's patting her arm, touching on her painted helmet and congratulating her for a good game.

and really, vi'd like to walk to you faster, but she has to say thank you to each compliment as an awkward smile stirred her lips upwards.

"hi."

"hey," you greet her back, and she knows the signs of your body when you're nervous as she ha already seen it so many times before, the look in your face that sold you out entirely "great game, congratulations."

"thank you" she replies, even when she's already combusting in how many praises she got already, your words scratches a different part on her brain. you're special to her, your words mean more than the rest "you came."

"i did," it's hard to remember she needs to stay mad at you cause it's difficult like this, you're there in a jersey with her name on it, that smile on your face she likes to see every single time — "i told you i wanted to come."

"yeah. i missed you," the words escape from her lips before she can think about what she's saying and it's too late to regret them as the simple admission makes you breathless "and i'm really pissed at you too."

"i'm sorry-" vi has lost count now of many many little deaths she has experienced in your company, but there goes another one as the air is stolen from her lungs and the rest of the public is disappearing until there's only the two of you reduced in the cold temperature of the rink, "for not hearing what you have to say."

"i never wanted to kiss sarah," she says at a safe distance, holding onto her helmet like her life depends on it — "i'm not into her, i explained that to her too."

"you aren't" you reply, and vi's almost relieved when she notices you are listening to her "i know it."

"i don't know what you heard, i've heard some crazy shit myself" it slowly fades away until it's not there anymore, that weird anger that she felt before and was so invested in not forgetting in the ice “i’m not with sarah either, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“she’s dating ava” you told her as her eyes widened at the information “like fully dating, walked into them today.”

“what?” vi’s struck for a moment before chuckling in aware “holy shit, that's some news-"

"yeah" you agree with her before you're pulling out this white paper from the back pocket of your jeans, a tiny paper that turned out to be a good sized tablecloth she can recognize from before — "i found our rules. wanted to show them to you."

"you came here to show me the rules were real?" vi asks holding in a laugh, looking at the words you write down with her brows furrowed "this is still not enough to count i'm afraid. i was too busy eating and i didn't agree on most."

"what? don't cheat it does count" you roll your eyes in response as you point out your own handwriting to specific numbers — "we broke up rules. number one, two three and five to be specific, which is most of them."

"is this your way of saying sorry? explaining you're right?" vi holds the paper between her fingers as she takes a step forwards to you, hiding it beneath her back as she looks down to you "not inviting me one of those artisanal pasta dishes you make? you're not working here for my love."

"i am right" you proudly state as she chuckles, not making a movement to step back and reject her advances. "you should admit it either way, those there are real rules you broke."

people are long gone by now, the bleachers now empty as you prove your point and vi's dropping the helmet to the floor cause she's too busy holding you now, right between her arms as her hand cups your cheek and she's making you meet her gaze.

"you're right, i broke the rules" she gives you the point, another win to your book she wants you to have — "we broke up the rules, do you have any complains now that you know you're right?"

"not really" she's smiling against your lips as you add — "maybe we did were a bad movie in the end, one where the main characters fall in love cause they are so dumb they thought they could pull out a fake relationship."

"a bad movie" she agrees with you, there's no point in hiding it as she's cutting the inches that separates her lips from yours in a much necessary, colliding kiss — "we are a bad movie."

"hold up-"

"what?" vi asks impatient "you need me to pretend i want you for a minute? another girl you like?"

you're a little monster, appearing on her game with her jersey, glossy lips and big eyes.

"no," you simply reply, looking at the empty rink now — "i was just making sure there's no one around. i don't want you to think this is not real anymore."

real. everything's so real.

ah. violet vanderson would most definitely rot in love.

[muqingslover]

Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

[ubeb0nes]

Getting jealous (AGAIN) as Sevika's girlfriend...

you just can't catch a break, huh? your fault for falling in love with this absolute lady-killer

༇༇༇

༇༇༇

a/n: ever since i remembered i have free will and can post all my sevika goblin thoughts i have been cooking entire posts up in like under an hour, somebody please help me LMAO

i had too many ideas for the jealous!reader, so here's another. i picture this as being my pit fighter!reader characterization, so do with that what you will :33

it isn't that you hate absolutely anybody looking at Sevika at all

like, you get it. and a part of you loves that everyone else can see just as clearly as you how absolutely captivating she is.

BUT IT GETS TO A POINT-

After the incident with the girl at the bar, Sevika does her best to make sure that you don't feel neglected in public. She slips, of course she does, but she does try like hell

It typically goes that anybody who approaches her, flat out doesn't acknowledge you. it's a by-product of how she's so non-PDA that it slips the mind of these thirsty women that she's even in a relationship

You, being a practical and results-driven individual, remedy this by being a little bolder in public every now and then

Nowadays, Sevika doesn't usually object. She understands why you're doing it now, and she's getting tired of the would-be homewreckers coming onto her too lol

You'll cup her cheek, give her a firm but quick kiss whenever you bring a drink over to her while she's in a game of cards. Come up beside her at the bar and rest your hand on her hip for a while (she fucking loves this one, she won't tell you though)

From then on, people start to get the message. If anybody's heartbroken over it, they become less inclined to showing it

So, you almost want to believe you're imagining things when you clock someone from across the bar who seems to keep giving you the stink eye

you're not dumb

you can see the way she's gesturing between you and Sevika to her friends, shaking her head in disgust. now that's a new one...

Sevika has her human arm over your shoulder while this is happening, the other holding onto her hand of cards. She looks over at you when you pluck the cigarillo out from her fingers and take a drag of your own in distress. She's deeply amused by this

"Okay, baby?" "Mhm. Peachy." You were not peachy. The hell did you do to deserve that look?

For a second Sevika thinks you're mad at her, frowning and angling her body towards you (she notices Ran trying to sneak a look at her cards as she does, and bucks playfully at them). Her eyes flick up to follow your line of vision, and then she understands

She chuckles under her breath.

"You could take her in a fight, princess."

oh, and don't you know it. You shake away the thought though, not wanting to escalate the situation in your head in the case that it's actually not at all what you think it is, and then you look stupid

You ask Sevika if she wants another whiskey and she declines, so you get up to just get yours. You're minding your business by the bar, trying to not grace that table with any more glances when that bites you in the ass as a shoulder checks yours

of course, it's the girl. I guess it wasn't in your head

You make eye contact with her when she looks over her shoulder at you and scoffs, shaking her head. You don't look away even as the bartender slides your drink into your hand

now, you have some options here. most of them include violence to some degree. you're contemplating them all as you're walking back to Sevika, eyes straight ahead

then you catch a few choice words from her table; something, something, "-can she fight..." you don't hear the rest, but does it really matter?

you stop in your tracks. you glance up at your girlfriend who didn't see what happened earlier but is watching you now, brow raised and mouthing what's wrong?

at this point, i don't think this even counts as jealousy, you're just defending your woman's honor

you give her a shake of your head that says don't worry (and now she's definitely worrying), and turn on your heel and make a beeline for the bitch's table

Sevika is about to get up to back you up- for whatever the situation may be- when she sees your posture as you stand over the girl from earlier.

Ran stops her though, grinning from ear to ear. "Let your girl have this, Sev. I wanna see her beat ass." Sevika scoffs, but tentatively sits back down. She trusts your judgement. Whatever your call is-

oh, you're smashing your glass over the girl's head. Ran gives a loud whoop

"You wanna take her from me? Go ahead, try," you'd said while Ran was talking Sevika down. The smile on your face was near-manic. "See what she does when you put your hands on me."

It's not like this woman was exactly tiny or helpless-looking; most in Zaun strived to be neither. But Sevika hadn't been lying when she said you could take her.

It was not a memo she'd received, though.

You couldn't recall what exactly she'd said, but you do know your mind reached an immediate state of singularity when she said she'd kill you before Sevika could do anything about it.

BET

"Goddammit-" Sevika barks out your name as she shoots up from her chair. Ran is doubled over with laughter

She's deceptively fast for her height, and thank fucking god for it. Her human arm wraps around your waist like a vise, pulling you back with ease

She would've been cutting up right with Ran in any other circumstance, given the way you were stancing on the now-dazed woman, fists clenched and shoulders shrugged up like an angry big cat

"Down, girl," she mutters to you. Her lips quirk up at the way you shift your jaw around, obviously still pissed off and ready to scrap

"I was defending your honor." "Mhm. What would I do without you, huh?"

Sevika's in front of you when the woman scrambles up out of her seat to retaliate. Sevika towers over the both of you, and you're nearly completely hidden behind her now as she glares at the woman

"You don't wanna fight her, much less me. Go ahead and clear off."

Maybe jealousy isn't as accurate of a term for you as territorial. You've got nothing to be jealous of, not with how fiercely devoted Sevika is at every turn

[withlovemark]

“how to make a girl cum?”

synopsis -> mark lee. 25 years old. too busy with his career. has only ever touched a girl once in his life and he’s not even sure it counts considering she didn’t cum and he lasted 7 seconds. all he knows is his hand and what he watches from porn. you’re absolutely tired of seeing your loser of a best friend, who’s supposed to be this hot sexy idol, fumble every girl he comes in contact with because of his fear of sexual acts…so you decide to help him out.

warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), praising kink if you squint

—

“how are things with belle?,” you ask mark! who is seated right next to you on the black couch in the middle of the practice room. the two of you alone in this room full of mirrors.

“oh dude, i ended things with her,” he says nonchalantly.

“what!? why? weren’t you just telling me last week how she was perfect?,”

“exactly! it was getting too serious, she touched my thigh and i was like okay, yeah, we’re done,”

“are you fucking kidding me? this again,” you sigh in disappointment. he practically begged you to introduce her to him and he just pulls away like he always does.

“uhhh yes this again,” he replies blatantly, rolling his eyes, “remember what happened last time with that other girl, she laughed at my face and told me it was disappointing that i didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations yet alone even make her cum,” he cringed at the words, that day vividly replaying in his mind like a reoccurring nightmare.

“it was your first time mark, cut yourself some slack, it happens!,” you reassure him for the millionth time.

“yeah, no, i’d rather die a virgin than go through that embarrassment ever again,” he scoffs and you almost can’t believe what you’re about to say but your best friend needed serious help.

“how about you do some practice?,”

he looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever, “and who exactly am i gonna practice on?”

“me,”

“what?!”

“me,” you repeat even louder.

“i-what?”

“me! mark,” he freezes on the spot, registering your words and for a second you’re afraid you broke him until he breaks the silence, “no.”

“and why the fuck not? do you think i’m ugly?,”

“what?! no dude, you’re fucking hot,” the comment going straight to your head, giving you a boost of confidence.

“so what’s stopping you?,”

“dude, c'mon, you’re literally my best friend!”

“so?,”

“best friends don’t touch each other,”

“sure but as your best friend i can’t keep seeing you sabotage potential relationships because of something as silly as this!,” you argue while he still looks at you like you were crazy.

“i promise i won't laugh at you and i promise you will at least know how to make a girl cum after this,” you continue, becoming more compelling with every second that passes.

mark sits there in silence, weighing out the pros and cons of this agreement…and well, he couldn’t think of any cons. plus, you’re the only person he trusts enough to do this with.

he sighs deeply, finally making up his mind, “when do we start?”

you smirk at his response, happy to hear him agree, “right now.”

“what!? no!,”

“but you just agreed!,”

“yeah but i gotta do research first,”

“you mean watch more porn??,” you roll your eyes, scoffing, “THIS is your research, it’s not gonna get better than actually experiencing it firsthand,” you make your point and mark can’t argue with that.

he does learn faster when he’s doing it himself.

“okay,” he nods slowly, trying to come to terms that this is happening now.

“okay,” you agreed, slowly inching the space in between you, “we’re in a practice room after all,” you smirk, whispering against his ear, sending goosebumps throughout mark’s body as he waits for you to take the lead, not quite sure if this is real or just a figment of his imagination.

you notice the way he froze, only indication that he was still in the room was the anxious bouncing of his leg, eyes staring straight at the floor, “relax, mark,” you say, placing your hand gently on his thigh. mark gulps, staring at your hand, still refusing to look at you.

“well, this just won't do,” you break the silence, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the room, making him sit on the floor – right in front of the mirror.

“wh-what?,” he sputters, looking up at your figure, still standing in front of him.

“now you have no choice but to look at me,” you tease, slowly removing your pants, leaving you in your panties before quickly taking your seat right in between mark’s legs, back rested against his body, facing the mirror ahead of you. this was as vulnerable for you as it was for him.

mark watches it all unfold in a blink of an eye, seeing you in your pink lacy underwear has got him salivating, the gravity of the situation settling in him…he was about to touch his very hot best friend.

“mark,” you call out to him, snapping him out of his daydream, his eyes following your voice, “yeah?,” he responds quietly, finding it hard to breathe. you give him a gentle smile, “is this okay?,” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the space between him. he responds in slow nods, the warmth from your body making it hard for him to think about anything else but you.

“good,” you part your legs for him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your clothed core, “touch me,” a light shocked expression appeared on his face due to your boldness before he obeyed, lightly rubbing his fingers against your panties.

“more pressure, mark,” he immediately follows your command, adding more pressure to his fingers as he slid them up and down the cotton barrier. you release a sigh of pleasure, feeling your arousal start to build up, watching mark through the mirror as he focuses on his fingers, eyebrow’s furrowing, making sure he’s rubbing you with the just the right amount of pressure.

it’s cute how determined he looks.

“don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing so well, can’t you feel how wet my panties are now?,” his cock twitching at your praise as your stained panties were starting to feel sticky against your cunt.

“take them off,” you demand. mark follows straight away, gently removing your panties off of you, leaving you completely bare, all for him.

“look in the mirror, mark,” you order and for the first time he finally makes eye contact with you through the glass, “look how wet i am for you,” you pout, your juices glistening under the lights.

mark can’t help but stare in awe, “dude, i-i did this?,” he says unsure, cheeks pink.

the nickname makes you frown, “do not call me dude when you’re about to have your fingers inside me,” you reprimand and he lets out a tiny apology before you grab his hand, placing it back on your cunt.

“now, show me what you know,”

marks fingers are back on you, rubbing you the way he did before, his fingers easily sliding up and down your slick folds, the friction making you whine under his touch. he takes that as a sign and without any warning, jams a finger in, immediately thrusting them in and out of you at an already brutal speed, making you hiss in pain.

“stop!,” you say, legs instinctively closing as he quickly pulls his fingers out, eyes wide, afraid.

“that did not feel good,” you give your feedback and he almost crashes out, the reminder of him being bad at this catching up to him, “b-but that's what they do in all the videos!” he sputters out, slightly panicking.

oh, how badly he needed your help.

“just take it slow mark, there’s no rush,” you smile softly, trying to comfort him, “here,” you grab his finger, controlling his speed as he slides down your core again, finger slowly disappearing inside you, following the curve of your pussy.

you let out a shaky breath at the slow intrusion, feeling your walls tighten around his digit. like this, you can feel how much longer his finger is compared to your own, reaching that spot so easily, “now curl it,” you instruct and he curls it perfectly on the first try, eliciting a moan from you, making his cock twitch.

“good boy,” you praise, boosting mark’s confidence as he curls his finger in the same spot again and again. you let go of his hand, letting him take over as he took note of every moan that spilled from your lips.

“i-is this good?,” he asks, adding another finger in and curling it just the way you like it.

“s-so good mark,” you whine under his touch, approving his action, “go faster now,” you say, hips arching up, needing more from him.

mark loves watching the way your body reacts to his hand and almost like his free hand had a mind of it’s own, it finds its way around your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “ohhh fuuck,” you moan, head falling back to his shoulder as your hand gripped his thigh trying to ground yourself, the tension in your stomach tightening.

“yeah?, you like that baby?,” he whispers against your ear, the nickname sending tingles down your core, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers. mark doesn’t need to hear your answer with the way your body speaks to him, he takes note of all of it.

“s-say that again,” you gasp, fingers continuing to move inside you while the tingle in your stomach keeps growing and growing, mark’s newfound confidence becoming stronger and stronger with every moan you give him.

“gonna make my baby cum,” he grunts in your ear, more determined than ever to get a job done. you watch it all play out on the mirror in front of you — body trapped in his, mark’s fingers curling in and out of you, juices leaking onto his fingers, eyebrows slightly furrowed, light sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles clenching.

he’s so focused on you, and he looks fucking hot doing so.

you can’t help yourself, turning your head towards him and catching his lips in yours. mark halts his movement for a quick second before regaining his composure, kissing you back ferociously, tongue meeting yours, quickly taking the lead. he did not need any tips for this – mark was a good fucking kisser, great even.

his lips moving with yours heightens the rest of your senses, drowning out all the other noises and only focusing on the boy next to you. you feel everything — the circles around your clit, the curls of his finger, his rock hard cock against your back; making you feel lightheaded, heat traveling throughout your body as mark swallowed your moans with his kisses.

you only pull away when your release took over, “—gonna cum,” you barely warn him, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes rolling back, toes curling as you let out a strangled gasp, the mind bending orgasm making your body shake, mark coaxing you through it.

“made my baby cum on the first try,” he softly teases, leaving soft kisses on your temple as he watches you unravel through the mirror. your hips arched up as you leaned on him for support, eyes closed, lips flushed, looking absolutely fucked out and his own body can’t help but react to the scene, staining his sweats.

you try to calm your erratic breathing, eyes fluttering open to the scene of mark licking his fingers clean off your arousal, “how does it taste?,” you tease. his eyes darken at your question, looking right at you through the mirror, “so good baby…you taste so good,” he says before diving his fingers back to your cunt, making you jump, as he collected the remaining juices, bringing it back to his lips, humming in satisfaction, eye contact never breaking – the action turning you on more than ever.

“congrats, you just made a girl cum,” you smirk, turning around on your knees to face him.

he lets out a nervous chuckle, glancing at you with uncertainty. "be honest, how was it, really?" he asks, his voice tinged with anxiety and you can tell the burst of confidence he had earlier was gone.

“honestly,” you start, gaining his full attention, “soo good mark, you learn so quickly…you think you can make me do it again?,” you ask, doe eyes innocently looking up at his brown ones.

he nods furiously at your request, hands immediately going to your hips, getting ready to turn you around and have you back in the same position before you stop him.

“hmm, i was thinking, maybe you can make me cum on your cock?,” you ask and mark chokes on his own breath, glancing around the room, getting shy under your gaze.

“i-uhm, i already came in my pants,” he whispers, afraid to confess it out loud.

“that’s. so. hot.” you comment, hands finding its way to his thighs, as you observe the wet stain on his grey sweats, capturing mark’s attention.

“wait? really?”

“mhm, i think it’s really hot how much effect i have on you, cumming in your pants and i didn’t even have to touch you,” you tease, his pants feeling tighter and tighter, “what do you say, mark?, you want to cum again?,” you whisper, pouting your lips.

“fuck y/n,” he whines breathily, you had him wrapped around your fingers now, how could he ever say no?

he pulled you towards him, taking the lead and smashing his lips against yours, gently sucking, tongues battling for dominance. your hand wraps around his neck, fingers finding its way to his hair, gripping it gently. the action enough to harden his cock.

quickly you pull away, taking off your shirt, pink lacy bra coming into view matching your panties. mark takes a second to admire your body, warm hands squeezing your waist, before following suit, discarding his own clothes to the side, leaving him in his stained boxers, lips back on yours as you continue to explore each other’s mouths.

your hand travelled down his chest to his torso, lower and lower, slipping inside his boxers and wrapping around his cock, earning a moan from him. you take note of how long he is, the anticipation of him inside you making your pussy twitch, insides bubbling once again.

you pump him once, twice…his whines against your lips, making you clench around nothing but air.

“stop it baby, i'm not gonna last if you do that,” he pleads and you want so badly to just have your way with him, pumping him to finish as he withers in his moans but before you could do so, he pushes your hand away, creating space between you.

“stop, please…want to be inside you,” he cries, shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself down as he slows his breathing, holding you an arm length away. he feels like he’s gonna burst any minute now and he really doesn’t want to do that without making you cum a second time.

“okay, mark,” you follow his order, “you’re in charge, baby,” you give up control, waiting for mark to take the lead, as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying his best push away his orgasm. he slowly opens his eyes, all his breathing work practically useless at the sight of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says before his hands wrapped around your hips, easily picking you up. you let out a quiet yelp at his sudden action. your best friend was a lot stronger than he looks.

he makes his way over to the couch, gently placing you down, body hovering over you as you push his boxers down, pink cock springing up, hitting his belly.

there was absolutely no going back from this.

“mark, do you have a condom?,”

“fuck,” he says looking at you wide eyed, “i-i dont have one,” he stutters, frustrated, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of not being able to satisfy you.

“you don’t carry one around?,”

“dude, we’re literally in this situation because i don’t get any action,” he reminds you, earning a laugh from you – you almost forgot…especially with how good his touches felt against your skin.

“you’re laughing, i don’t have a condom and you’re laughing,” he says in disbelief, annoyed at himself, his frustration increasing every second your laugh reaches his ears, “hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh,” he pouts, gently poking your sides, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“sorry, sorry, i-just, you should’ve seen your face, you look like you’re about to cry,” you point out, calming down, “i’m on the pill mark, its okay,” you soothe him, and mark’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

the last and first time he had “sex” with a girl, he came in the condom as soon as he bottomed in and now he expects himself to last more than 7 seconds with you? raw? he freezes once again and you notice the change in his demeanor.

“don’t be scared mark, we’ll take it at your pace,” you comfort him, turning his head towards you for a soft, gentle kiss – so much different from the rushed kisses you previously shared.

“hey, i'm your best friend, okay, you can trust me,” you remind him, giving him a small smile “it’s okay if you cum faster than me, you’ll know what to do if that happens,” you assure him, completely trusting him with your body and all his worries fade away.

mark finally snaps out of his overthinking mind, taking the lead once again, soft lips on yours as he gently pushes you down, back against the couch, body completely hovering over you.

he swipes his cock against your folds, collecting your juices, making you shiver in anticipation, before lining against your core, slowly pushing the tip in your hole, he breathes in — you feel so fucking warm. you moan at the invasion, walls expanding, adjusting to the size of his cock as he slowly pushed inside. synchronized moans filling up the air as he bottomed in, walls tightly clenching around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper you swear you can feel him in your cervix — feel every vein on his cock twitching.

“fuuck mark, you fit perfectly,” you whine, never have you had anything feel this good inside you and he hasn’t even moved. the comment makes him blush. he was gonna have to bring that up later…right now, he’s committed to redeeming himself and pleasing you.

he starts thrusting slowly, focused on your reaction, “hmmm, feels soo good mark,” you whine. he recalls the curl of his fingers inside you, making sure he angles his cock the same way, hitting you exactly where you need it. he finds it almost instantly, faster than any other guy has ever found it, “oh god, mark-fuck,” you jumble your words, too caught up with how he’s making you feel. the slowness of it all making it more intimate, each thrust properly hitting you deep inside, back arching at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, deep grunts right by your ear, hips meeting his.

“y-you’re so fucking tight baby mhm, making it so hard f-for me,” he whimpers, quickening his pace, the sound of clapping starting to echo throughout the walls, moans mixing in the air, the growing tension in your belly making you feel hot as you gripped his toned arm muscles.

“f-fuck mark, i-im close,” you gasped. your sensitivity from your previous orgasm quickly catching up to you, as he continued his thrusts, “m-me too baby,” he stutters, cock twitching inside you.

his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “oh fuck! mark, mark, mark-,” you moan over and over again, forgetting every other word but his name.

he feels like he's going to explode. the amount of restraint he was holding on to to make sure you came before him is making him feel lightheaded — desperate.

“c’mon baby, c-come with me please,” he pleadingly whines, thrusts gaining more speed, your juices making it easier for him to slide in and out, toes curling at the sensation as you feel the heat rise, the coil in your stomach making you gasp for air.

you didn't have time to warn him before your walls immediately closed in on his cock, second orgasm completely taking over, body going slack, breathy moans slipping past your lips, eyes shut, the tension in your stomach coming undone.

mark’s movements falter on top of you, your release triggering his as he paint your walls white, “fuuuck baby,” he groans, head burrowed into your neck, breathing heavily, body shaking on top of yours.

mark slowly pulls out, making you hiss at the loss of contact. you watch, in amazement, as your mixed juices spill out of your throbbing cunt, pussy still pulsating.

“how was that?,” he asks earnestly awaiting your response and all you could do is shoot him a smile, “are you sure you’ve never done this before?,” you ask, making him chuckle in satisfaction.

“good?,” he wanted to hear it from you.

“very good, mark,” you nod in approval earning a smile from him as he got up to get his shirt, using the fabric to clean you up.

“you’re a really quick learner,” you praise him.

“or i just have a really good teacher,” he shrugs, refusing to take credit for the mess the two of you made.

“well, i barely had to tell you anything for that one, you really took notes earlier huh?” you point out, as he sat down next to you, “i guess so,” he says, a small smile on display.

“think you got it, now? won’t be sabotaging any potential relationships anymore?,” you tease, disheveling his hair, a playful smile on your lips.

“hmm,” he hums, pondering.

truthfully, he was proud of himself, he really was scared over nothing, or maybe…maybe it was because you were his partner? and that made everything different. he trusts you which made it easier for him to not get caught up in his own fears, the sound of your moans and praises pushing away all his anxieties, leading him to success.

he wants to hear it again.

mark smiles mischievously, bright eyes shining, before turning to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, “i don’t know baby, i think i might need more practice,” he says cheekily, lips on yours once again as he unhooks your bra.

—

au: whew! well that’s that >.< genuinely….what do i need to do in life to make sure this happens to me and mark ?????????

[starrbishops]

⟡Not So Secret⟡

(John Walker x Reader)

Summary: After months of keeping your relationship secret, you and John are finally caught. - ao3 version

Word Count: 2k

Notes: (Set after the events of Thunderbolts*, horny fluff, talk of sex, John Walker praise kink (the people have inspired me) established relationship, Bob appearance!

a/n: i cannot help it i love putting this man in silly ass situations so here we are again. Now featuring Bob!

“This movie is really fucked up.”

You turn from your spot on the couch. “So you are watching it?” John stands directly behind the couch, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he stares at the screen. “I’m just passing through.”

“You’ve been passing through for 20 minutes, babe.”

He stays silent, prompting you to hold out a hand, which he (finally) takes as he climbs onto the sofa next to you.

“Took you long enough.” you get comfortable, throwing your legs over your boyfriend’s lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, while he snakes an arm around your waist.

“It’s just, I get wanting to get paid, but dude, forcing an amnesiac to be your wife is fucking nuts, even if she does suck as a person.” he gestures at the TV, where an old rom-com you’d put on absentmindedly plays. “Like, I’m a shitty dude, but I’m not that shitty, jesus.”

“You gotta stop talking about yourself like that.” you sigh, “but yeah, this is a very weird premise.”

John throws his free hand up. “Thank you.”

“We don’t have to watch it, y’know.”

“No, I care now. I need to know how this ends so I can complain about it properly.”

You laugh, seeing how he gets riled up over the stupidest things. With most people John has a tendency to be contrary, disagreeing with anything and picking stupid flights over it. He’s been better about it recently, especially since you pointed it out to him. Instead he gets out the general frustration that seems to always hang on him through the most random complaints. It’s cute, seeing what he gets overly enthusiastic or angry about. Last week Bucky accidentally hit a little too hard in training and he brought it up just about any time the other super soldier was in the room.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, letting the movie play on in the background. You peer over at John, who lays back against the couch, absentmindedly rubbing circles with the hand on your waist.

He looks relaxed, something you don’t see often with him. His jaw is clenched, head rolled back. You lean over and peck a kiss on his cheek. 

He turns as you pull back, surprised a little. “What’s that for?”

You shrug. “What, I can’t just kiss my boyfriend for the hell of it?”

“If you’re gonna kiss me, do it right.” he leans in and presses his lips to yours, smiling as he does it. John is never one to half-ass something. His other hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer before running through your hair. 

He grunts a little as you pull away, already leaning back as you giggle. “I thought you were watching the movie.”

“Fuck the movie.” he mutters, grabbing the remote to shut the TV off as he catches your lips again, running his tongue along them before delving into your mouth, as if he's claiming his territory.

You groan as he presses you down against the sofa, now laying on top of you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His large hand grip your hips like you’re going to vanish if he doesn’t hold on.The heat between you grows as you press yourselves as close as possible, as if trying to meld into one.

“So perfect.” he mutters as he comes up briefly for air, moving his mouth to your jaw and trailing kisses down your neck. “Drive me fuckin’ crazy, darlin’.” 

His Georgia drawl peeks out when he gets like this; intense, single minded. If the hardness pressing against your stomach is any indication, the blood has left his head and gone straight to his dick, not that you’re complaining.

“John,” you manage to get out as he starts to push a hand under your shirt. “Babe, we shouldn’t-”

“Why not?” he continues to paper kisses to your collarbone, although his hand has stopped, waiting for your consent to go any further.

“We’re in the living room, what if someone walks in?”

“No one’s gonna walk in”

“Babe.” you grab his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes as you give him a sharp look. It’s not that you don’t want your teammates to know about the two of you. It’s been a few months, long enough for you to know you’re serious about this, and that John is too. You’d just rather not defile another public living space.

John sighs, hanging his heaven the crook of your neck. You pat him on the back, getting a laugh out of him. “Alright, good boy.”

He goes a little still at that, and you worry for a moment before realizing what you’ve done. “Oh, you’re into that aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” he grumbles as he sits up, pulling you up with him. 

“What, you like it when I tell you how amazing you are?” you tease, one hand running through his beard. He leans into the touch, always happy to take anything you have to offer. “How handsome you are, how good you are in bed?”

“You keep talking like that, I’m not gonna make it to the bed.” he warns, his hand coming up to meet yours. You just chuckle, kissing him once again. Then his hands are moving back to your waist as he lifts you, never breaking the kiss as he moves them to grip your thighs. You tighten your grip around his waist, feeling how aroused he is as he kisses you.

You’re in for a hell of a night, you think, before you hear a sudden “Oh!” from behind you.

You and John both pull away, whipping around to see Bob standing in the entryway, eyes wide and embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you guys were busy, um, I can, I can go, I didn’t mean to-” Bob stutters out incoherent apologies as you and John stand frozen, unsure of what to do.

“Bob.” you finally manage to say. “It’s okay. Sorry you had to see that.” you pat John’s shoulder indicating to put you down, which he does, his face still in a state of shock as he stares at Bob.

“It’s okay, I know you guys- I mean, um, it’s fine.”

“You know what?” John breaks his silence as he presses you to the front of him, hiding his still present erection.

Bob opens his mouth again, although no sound comes out as he tries to come up with something to say. “Well, I kinda knew about you guys. For a while.”

Once again, you and your boyfriend stand shocked as Bob begins rambling. “I didn’t mean to not tell you, I just didn’t want to like, invade your privacy because I could tell you wanted it to be secret, sp I didn’t say anything-”

“How long have you known?” John barks out, less angry and more confused and irritated than anything.

Bob wrings his hands. “Um, like three months?”

John hands his head, and you stifle a laugh as you look up at him. He just shakes his head, looking down at you embarrassed. You can’t help it, you start laughin at the ridiculousness of it all.

“We’ve only been dating five months.” you tell Bob through giggles. “How did you even find out?”

“Oh, well, there was this one time I woke up really early by accident, so I went to the kitchen ‘cause I was hungry, and you guys were in there.” he explains, still nervous. “And you seemed, um, busy, so I left.”

“Oh my god.” John mutters, recalling the day in question.

John has a tendency to wake up early; it’s built in from years in the military. Having begun to spend most nights in his bed, you’d started getting up with him, the two of you enjoying the peace and domesticity of breakfast together in the kitchen.

You sat on the island, watching as John made the two of breakfast. You never would’ve expected him to be competent in the kitchen, let alone a good cook. Yet most mornings, he was the one making you both food, always insistent it was “the most important meal of the day.”

“Okay.” he handed over a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, leaning against the island next to you. You furrowed a brow at him.

“None for you?”

He shrugged. “Not hungry.”

“What happened to the most important meal of the day?” you joke as you elbow him, getting a chuckle in return. Again he just shrugged. “Well, now I feel bad eating because you don't have anything.”

“Come on,” he moved to stand between your legs. “I like doing things for you. Takin’ care of you.” he brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the rest still messy from a long night together.

“Besides, I can think of something else I’d enjoy.” his hands moved to massage your thighs, a sly grin on his face. 

“Jesus, John, again?” you were still sore from the night before, although he didn’t seem to care much as kneeled down before you. Your food was long forgotten, tossed somewhere else on the island as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh.

“I like takin’ care of my girl.” he tugged at your shorts, his Southern accent peering out before you heard a sudden noise from the hallway. 

You whip[ed around, only to see nothing but an empty entrance.

“Hey.” John squeezed your thigh, drawing your attention back to him. “No one’s up at this hour. We’re good.” 

You ran your hand through his hair. “You’re cleaning up the counter after this.” you joke.

He just smiled, pressing another kiss to your legs. “Fine by me.”

“Oh, Jesus christ.” you cover your eyes in shame, “That was you?”

“Yeah. I didn’t see anything though!” he assures you. “Um, besides, like uh. The setup.”

“Oh my god.” you repeat, remembering how Bob would avoid the kitchen island like a plague.

“Well, at least it was a good morning.” John jokes, prompting you to smack his chest. He clears his throat. “Sorry you had to see it though, Bob.” 

“It’s okay. You guys are cute. Whenever I see you together you seem really happy.”

“Thanks Bob- what do you mean whenever?”

Bob eyes eiden against, realizing he’s said something he shouldn't. “Um, well that wasn’t the only time-”

“Oh god, Bob you pervert.” John cries out,  waving a hand in the air as you laugh again.

“It’s not my fault! You guys are just kinda obvious!” he defends himself, raising hands in a show of peace.

“Bob- stop laughing!” John insists, and you stifle your laughs with her hand. “Bob, please stop watching me and my girlfriend.”

“I don’t watch, yo guys are just always making out in public places!” he argues, shutting up at a sharp look from JOhn. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stay out of it. Congrats, though, I hope you two are very happy together.”

“We are. Now go.” John waves a hand towards the doorway, which Bob quickly walks to before pausing in the wnt raya.

“Could you just, like, not have sex on the couch? I like the couch, I don’t wanna have to avoid it forever-”

“Bob!” the man runs out at the warning from JOhn, who sighs as he lays his head atop yours. “Jesus Christ.”

“I told you this would happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You were right.”

You smile a little, again reaching up to move his chin to face you. “You know, I don’t mind him knowing.”

John grumbles a little, though he nods. “Yeah. Just rather he does not find out by seeing me eat you on the kitchen counter.”

“Well whose idea was that?” you point out, receiving more grumbles from John above you. “We gotta tell the others, you know.”

He nods, reluctantly. “Do we really have to?” he squeezes your hips. “I like having you to myself.”

“Would you rather have Alexei walk in on us?” he shudders at the thought, eliciting another chuckle from you. 

“Okay.” he concedes, spinning you around to face him. “But tomorrow. I want one more night of just us.”

You smile, reaching up to kiss him again. “Okay.” you agree as you pull away. “So can we get back to what we were doing earlier?”

“God, yes.” you yelp as John lights you again, kissing you firmly as he carries you off towards his room. 

a/n: Anotha one. I have so much fun writing these it's silly. Hope you have just as much fun reading them! Signing off again:

[kiyoomiee]

one. two. three. four. five.

“I don’t hate you. That’s the fucking problem.”

Days passed and the words kept echoing in your mind as well as Sukuna’s. Almost as if he's trying to convince himself as much as you.

He knows what's the root cause of this problem. He needs to get laid.

It's just lust. If I can't get you out of my head, then I'll fuck it out of my system.

Yeah, that's his solution. Go to a random club and get fucking laid.

He found a distraction as soon as he ordered his first drink from the bartender. Some random woman clung to his arm as he downed his drink. Didn't even have to try.

He forgot how easy it was for him to seduce a woman. Before you lived with him, he used to have random hookups here and there. Now, it's like he doesn't even recognize himself.

The woman introduced herself and tried to make small talk but honestly, Sukuna didn't even pretend to care. Just a distraction.

Five drinks later, he finds himself in the dance floor as the woman grinds herself to his hips.

Bad idea. Bad fucking idea. Because as he closed his eyes, all he could think about was you, not the woman in front of him. Your hair, your skin, your body.

What are the chances of running into Yuuji and his damn circle of friends in the same club at Friday night? Turns out, it's fucking high.

Because when he opened his eyes again, he finds you staring straight at him from the mezzanine floor of the club.

Yuuji dragged you along with him to celebrate Yuta Okkotsu's birthday, your senior.

He couldn’t stand watching you sulk in your room anymore. He asked Nobara to dress you up and Megumi to help him convince you to join the party. You can’t say no to the trio.

You were met with a cocktails and vodka shots the moment you stepped into the booth, you were already half drunk by the time you managed to greet Yuta a happy birthday.

“Thanks for being here, enjoy the party!” He replied enthusiastically before being dragged away by Maki.

“Hey Yuuji, am I drunk already or is that really your brother at the dance floor?” Your eyes immediately darted where Megumi was pointing at.

“Nah, you’re drunk Fushiguro. I’m not even sure he knows a single dance move.” Yuuji dismissed and didn’t even bother to look at the man on the dance floor.

“Fuck, it is him.” You exclaimed, almost only to yourself.

You’d recognize that build and tattoos anywhere, he stood out even with the sea of bodies that swayed with the rhythm of music.

But that’s not all you noticed, you can clearly see a woman grinding herself to him. His eyes were staring back at you, but his hands were planted on her waist.

Your eyes were focused on the way his hands roamed around her body. When he pulled the woman close to him using her hair, you’re done for. You felt turned on yet pissed at the same time. You can imagine yourself down there with him, it's you that he's touching and not her. Why does it have to be another woman? God, why not you?

Seeing that scene made you sober up. Great, the reason why you were sulking was here, on the verge of fucking someone else.

Why did that annoy you so much?

“We’re gonna need more shots.” Nobara stated when she noticed your expression.

“You know what? Bring the whole damn bottle. Happy birthday Yuta! Let’s get fucking wasted!”

Sukuna watched as you retreated back to your booth. The blood that rushed from his brain down to his cock was now dissipating. It’s no fun when you’re not watching anymore.

“What the hell is your problem?!” The woman shrieked when she almost fell to her face, as he shoved her away from him.

“Sorry, lost my interest.” He simply said and went back to the counter.

Goddammit, he can't even get hard if it's not you that he's touching or thinking about.

Sukuna’s phone vibrates almost an hour later.

“What.” He answers it without looking, knowing fully well who’s on the other line. His eyes were fixed up on the balcony once more.

“Nobara got her really drunk and she’s been cursing your name all this time.”

Sukuna stayed silent, what the fuck was he supposed to do?

He had a plan before coming here, which was clearly ruined when he opened his eyes again and laid it upon you. When he saw you watching him so intently he couldn’t do it, either it’s you or no one else.

“Plus, she’s saying she’s going home with a man, so-”

“I’m coming up there right now, don’t fucking touch her.” He snarled.

Sukuna found you on the deck outside, with a man in front of you.

Who the fuck?

The loud stomping of shoes to your direction didn’t stop you from mindlessly playing at the shot glass in your hands. Your vision was spinning due to all the liquor you drank. Drinking with Nobara felt like playing a losing game.

“I live close by. Wanna come with me?” Toma, the guy in front of you said.

“‘m sorry, but I’m here with my friends.” You tried rejecting him but he was so persistent, even had the audacity to touch your arm.

“Come on. It’s only a five minute walk, I can-”

“No you won’t. Get your fucking hands off or I’ll break it.” Sukuna deadpanned. The guy tried to apologize but he scrammed almost immediately when Sukuna gave him a deathly glare.

“Hello Sukuna, where’s your woman?” Your sardonic tone pissed him off even more.

Right in front of me, pouting. He wanted to say.

“C’mon, we’re leaving. Now.” Sukuna stated. You set the shot glass down and stared at his palm that was stretched out in front of you.

“We can’t leave, haven’t found my man yet. Since you scared that one away, I should start looking for a new one.” You slur, whole body swaying as you stood up abruptly.

“You’re not going anywhere.” In an instant, Sukuna had already blocked your path.

Your upper body bends as he caged you to the closest railing. Surprised by his act and fucking scared of falling, your arms immediately clung to his neck.

His familiar perfume flooded your senses due to the distance between the two of you being mere inches from one another. It's intoxicating. Addicting.

Then you remembered what you saw on the dance floor.

“Let go of me, Sukuna. You haven’t answered my question, where’s the woman you were with earlier? Stay away from me and go back to her.” You tried shoving him with both hands but he didn’t budge.

“One minute you can’t stand me, the next you act like this. I can’t understand you. What the hell do you want from me?” You locked your eyes with his as you pounded your fists to his broad chest.

“You really don't get it, do you?” His jaw clenched.

“Get what? You confuse me a lot you know? You said you didn't hate me, so what's this? Do you just enjoy making my life miserable?”

“Fuck, I want you!” He finally exploded. “The woman that I want is you. You’re my brother’s best friend and I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts but I can't fucking help it. I want to claim you, I want to make you cry out my name, I want every inch of you.” Your mouth parts as you stood still, stunned into silence. Sukuna’s chest was heaving as he continued on.

“I’ve been going crazy trying to keep my fucking distance because I know I’ll ruin you. But you ruined me, now I can’t get you out of my head.”

“You…want me?” You inhaled sharply. That was unexpected.

“More than I’ve ever wanted anyone. It’s driving me insane.”

“Yeah, I find that hard to believe.” You scoffed and crossed your arms. “I saw you earlier, you’ll fuck that woman if you haven’t seen me. Or have you done it already?”

“Don’t look at me like that, no I didn’t fuck her. I haven’t even touched any woman since you moved in with us. Fucking hell, even my body betrayed me because it wants only you.” He gripped the railing tightly, hands flexing at your sides like he was holding himself back from touching you.

The silence stretched between the two of you. The air was thick with tension and filled with something neither of you could dare describe.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same,” he murmured, his voice rough, pleading. “And I’ll let you go.”

Your fists dropped on your side. You should lie. You should lie and say the words that would make him leave.

You should say it. That this was wrong, that you didn’t want to betray your best friend by going after his brother.

But you didn’t.

Because despite knowing better—you wanted him too.

All you could do was do was look up at him, eyes burning with the truth you couldn’t escape.

You didn’t say a word.

And that silence was your answer.

—————————————————————

taglist: @emyyy007 @thebumbqueen @domainofmarie @cheriiepies @jumpinjaxx @mothstvrnz @grveyrd4 @tojisbabymommasblog @realalpacorn @starriesworlds @go-go-gadget-autism @ieathairs @oidloid @krispywhisperswhispers @satorupied @zeunys @chosos-prettyprincess @trsh-kitty @seellove @xlilycoco @chososlvr

[v00do-d0ll]

De-aged Bruce

I just thought about how I think everyone would react to “de-aged 10 year old Bruce.” Because we all know that at some point in Bruce’s life he figured out how to keep emotions and feelings off of his face, and out of his eyes.

At first they all freak out because “what the fuck?!? Bruce is a child!?” Then once they get him home. They find it hilarious. Because “why the fuck is he so cute?” He’s got the biggest blue eyes and he’s just so small, and they’re all about to die from cuteness overload.

But the second Bruce gets his bearings and realizes he’s in a dark cave with bats and surrounded by 7 strangers..

He freaks out.. Bruce screams so loud that he disturbs all the bats in the cave, and he runs. He tries so hard to get away, but he doesn’t know how to fight them off. He wasn’t taught, what he taught his kids at this age. So he’s extremely easy to catch. All the kids are stunned because this isn’t the Bruce they know.

Then they see Alfred rushing towards them because he was upstairs when he heard the scream, and even though he hadn’t heard it in over 30 years, he would recognize it anywhere.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred says softly and Bruce looks up so quickly, and when his eyes land on the man he starts crying. Trying so hard to get to Alfred but not being able to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Master Jason, please let go of Master Bruce.” He says without taking his eyes off the child. As soon as Jason lets him go. He runs into Alfred’s embrace. Sobbing, and gripping onto Alfred’s shirt so tight that they think he might rip it.

And they watch Bruce try so hard to hide in Alfred’s neck and watch as Alfred tries to calm the boy down with the most frazzled look on his face the kids have ever seen. Then they all collectively go

oh.. Bruce is just a traumatized child.. just like them.

And he’s terrified of them, all except Alfred.. Once Alfred gets Bruce to calm down he falls asleep in Alfred’s arms.

“Let us all go upstairs, if Bruce is going to be a child for the unforeseeable future, we will need to have a discussion.” He says matter of factly,

When he returns back downstairs all the kids are sitting around the dining room table. Alfred sits at the head of the table and looks around at his grandchildren.

“What’s up Alfie?” Dick asks

He looks at them all with a straight face. “You all need to prepare yourselves for the version of Master Bruce that he is at this age. He is not anything close to what you’ve imagined your father to be. At this age he is just a child, no training, no outlet, no hidden emotions, and most importantly.. no guidance.”

“What do you mean?” Duke asks, Alfred looks down at his hands for a moment. “Even though I did everything I could for Master Bruce, he was a deeply unhappy child. Witnessing his parent’s death changed him fundamentally. You would understand the most Master Dick.., but the difference is that Bruce didn’t have someone to help him vent that anger.. that fear.. and the sadness.”

They all look at one another apprehensively

“You might think that he does not talk that much now. But he ended up being non-verbal for the majority of his adolescent life, and that is largely due to the fact that he was heavily bullied as a child.”

“What!?” They all exclaim

Alfred takes a moment to gather his words 

“When Master Bruce went back to school after the passing of his parents, he was no longer the same boy they once knew, and high society children are cruel. Your father has always had large emotions and a even larger heart, even if he doesn’t show it now. I suspect that’s where Master Damian gets his love for animals. But they did many things to your father that is better left unsaid. But each day he came home, he was just a shell of the boy who use to thrive with life.”

Alfred’s eyes gloss over as he remembers the past. “Everything in the next years for him were awful. Everyone wanted something from him. Reporters jumping the fence here at the manor, and at the academy just to get to Bruce. All the galas that he unfortunately had to go to, he hated them so much, and it just got worse after everything.”

“Older business men and women trying to take advantage of Bruce to get to W.E.

That’s why he was so fiercely protective of each of you at galas. I could unfortunately not be there with him for such things. He wanted to make sure you all never went through the same.”

Alfred stops abruptly for a moment, he inhales quickly

“How old is he right now?” He asks apprehensively.

“We’re not sure, he wouldn’t respond to us but he looks about 10. Why?” Tim replies softly

“Because depending on how far it is into the year Bruce thinks it is. He was also recently kidnapped. I won’t tell you what happened because I am already over sharing Master Bruce’s secrets.” Alfred says

“Jesus Christ. He’s just a kid.” Steph says as she rubs her temples

“Quite right Ms.Brown, he was only a child. That couldn’t get a moment to grieve in peace.”

“After a while he felt that he couldn’t trust anyone. For a short period of time he didn’t trust me. He felt like everyone was out to get him and he couldn’t do anything about it, and he was right. So he closed himself off to everyone. His entire life it’s only been me and him.”

Then Alfred looks at Dick with a soft look in his eyes

“Then he found you Master Dick..”

Dick looks at him with confusion “What do you mean, ‘then he found me?’ “

“When I said the he was a deeply unhappy child, I meant it.” Alfred pauses for a moment to take a deep breath.

“I was terrified many times when Bruce was young, that he might take his own life. I stopped him once.. when he was 14.” Alfred pauses again

“He was never truly happy… until Master Richard came into his life. He didn’t have people to go out and see, he didn’t have things to go out and do. He was just surviving day to day with no life behind his eyes.”

“It got a little bit better after he trained to become Batman, he had a mission to focus on. But he didn’t have anything to live for. Until he found you on that fateful day Master Richard. Then you Master Jason. Tim, you found him. and I am always grateful for that. Damien you waltzed your way into his life but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He now has something to live for… All of you.

You all keep him going, even if you’re not on good terms all the time. He will always live for you. So I thank you all for keeping my son alive for this long.” He looks all of them in the eyes as he says it, to make sure that they understand what hes saying is 100% true.

“There is one more thing I need to let you know so you are not caught off guard.”

They all look at him with a sad look on there face that says “there’s more?”

“At this age Master Bruce does not know how to hide his emotions. With the way you are all attuned to notice every small detail of your father, you will see many emotions in his eyes.

“His eyes?” Jason asks

“His eyes use to be his biggest tell of how he was feeling. You could see every ounce of pain in them no matter the time. When he came back from his training, he taught himself to hide those emotions.”

“So just know that you will see all the things your father hides behind his mask.” Alfred says as he stands up from the table. “I will go sit with Master Bruce. He will not like to wake up alone if he has a nightmare.”

After Alfred walks off, the kids just sit in silence for a while because.. what the fuck?! They are all now terrified of scaring there father even more. They are also apprehensive and curious of the emotions that Bruce can’t hide away.

And they truly were not prepared for the pure devastation that was Bruce’s eyes. Every ounce of emotion that he had was told through them. Anytime they would attempt to get closer to him he would shoot them with a devastating look, showing how scared he was of them, it was like being sucked into a pool of sadness.

He was terrified of them. Flinching away from them anytime they were near. Gasping and running away to quickly find Alfred when they accidentally sneak up on him. The tears and devastation that run down his face when he’s reminded of his parents.

If eyes were the windows to Bruce’s soul, his shutters were always open. With sadness so etched into his irises. It feels like he was cursed with it.

[defmaybe]

Lessons in PHP

12 Days of Christmas: Day 4, December 28th, 2024

Girl’s Generation/SNSD’s Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader

2k words

Christmas Masterlist

The clicking sounds of keyboards ring through the room. Students are doing their in-class assignments, while you’re struggling to solve the first problem on the sheet. How the fuck can your friends do this?

Fuck, this is hard. Your code repairs seem fruitless against the errors, so you raise your hand, hoping that one of the TAs will help you.

You look around, seeking for help, until you meet one of your TAs’ eyes.

Kim Taeyeon.

Fuck.

No, you’re not scared or intimidated by her, you’re just always perplexed by her otherworldly features. There are her sharp eyes, her perfectly sculpted nose, and that jawline that makes you almost drool. Every time she helps you with your code, you’re just unable to focus on the material because of the intoxicating perfume she wears. It’s as if she knows that it’s your weak point.

Taeyeon walks towards you with purpose, every step is confident. Her short skirt and tie sways with the movement. She looks straight at you, expressionless, until she reaches your desk.

“So.” Taeyeon starts the troubleshooting session. “What do we have here?”

“I–I can’t add the new values into the table, M–Miss Kim.”

She nods. “Okay, can you show it for me?”

You let the code work on itself, before typing your information into the boxes, press submit, and–

“Voila,” you mutter quietly. It doesn’t work. She seems to be amused by your attempt at cracking a joke.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Despite her efforts, her attempts are also proven fruitless. The code just doesn’t seem to work how hard she tries, and you can feel that it’s starting to get on her nerves.

“I can just ask an AI for this, Miss Kim.”

She shoots you a surprised look. “AI? Yah! You won’t learn that way! Just–meet me after the class, alright? I’ll help you.”

“O–Okay, Miss Kim.” You’ll be late for lunch again.

—

The students are starting to leave the seats one by one, having finished their in-class assignment early. Then, there’s you, trying to fix your damn code, trying to learn. Still, it just won’t budge.

“Fuck.”

Finally, the bell rings. You pick up your laptop and walk towards Taeyeon, hoping to find some relief in her. She nods at you. 

“I’ll be there,” she says. She’s still helping Haewon with her code.

—

Taeyeon starts her debugging session. It’s particularly hard on PHP, because it won’t tell you where the mistake is. Fucking PHP.

As time goes by, you’re surprised that Taeyeon doesn’t seem to become stressed with the failed attempts. Hell, she even seems to be happier and happier, humming as she debugs the code! What is going on?

“You know, I think this is a delightful session–” she moves closer towards you. Her right arm touches yours, hands still on your keyboard “–we’re having.”

Her perfume fills your nostrils. It pervades your space violently. You’re starting to get hypnotized by it. Fuck, she smells good.

She moves in a little closer. Her hips press into yours. You can feel her body heat against your side. She types in a few letters. You hope it can finally make your code run. She reloads the page, dragging her fingers along your keyboard lazily before submitting the credentials.

“Whoops, seems like it doesn’t work~” says Taeyeon. There’s something in her voice, but back to your laptop first. Why won’t it work, and why does she sound so–

“Looks like we’re missing a few more things here.” She scoots her chair closer to you. It’s so uncomfortable, yet you don’t want to move away from her.

You’re revelling in this.

You watch as she types more letters into your screen—enter, shift, echo. She does it so elegantly, contradicting what every computer job is supposed to be.

She reloads the page again, typing in the information languidly. It’s as if she doesn’t want this to end.

It still doesn’t show up.

She shrugs, sighing at the disappointment on your screen. “Guess I’ll try again,” she says with a small smile.

You are starting to get restless. Her perfume is still invading your nostrils like crazy. You want to go to lunch so fucking bad, but you also don’t want to leave this smell of sensuality circling around her.

“Miss Kim, I–It’s fine, I’ll just–”

“No,” she commands, her voice stern. You jump slightly as she says that. “I won’t let my student go out of this room learning nothing.”

She presses into you even more. It’s starting to hurt now, yet you don’t have any intent to walk away from her, not when she smells so fucking good like this.

You hear a soft giggle from her. Is she enjoying the way she’s getting this close to you like this?

You scoot away from her a little, giving you and her some much-needed space. You can hear her sigh. Is it out of disappointment?

“Are you okay, M–Miss Kim?” you just have to ask. Can’t let your TA be uncomfortable after all.

She giggles. “Oh, I’m fine~ and please drop that name, mister,” she says with sultry. Her fingers draw an invisible line over your arm, hovering over it. Still, it makes you shiver.

“I like something more–” her hands are hovering on your shoulder now, and she’s pulling you in closer and closer, as if you’re magnetized “–intimate.”

Your breathing becomes shaky. Your hands tremble. Her scent becomes stronger and stronger as seconds go by. You’re lost in her.

“Wh–What’s more i–intimate, Miss Kim.”

She giggles, leaning in closer. Her breath touches your ear softly, and she whispers, “Call me mommy.”

You swallow hard. Being dominated by your TA isn’t exactly what you’ve been expecting today.

Her hands start to grope your pliant body. You respond to her touch strongly, sucking a sudden. She drags her hands down the front and back simultaneously, fully capturing you in her cage.

“Look at you, so–willing,” she says, letting out a giggle after. She reaches for your belt now, and she slowly unbuckles it adeptly. It comes off so easily, leaving you bare, unguarded. She then unbuttons your trousers. The edge of your boxers comes into view.

“Mommy will take your pants off, alright?” asks Taeyeon. You can only gulp and nod.

She pulls your zipper down gently, slowly revealing the tent under your boxers. Her eyes gleam, letting out a giggle.

“Ooh~ so excited for mommy, huh?”

You say nothing but a whimper. Your body quivers in unbridled anxiety, apprehensive of disappointing her. The tension is high. Taeyeon starts to grope your erection through the boxers, making your body quiver in pleasure.

She then climbs onto your lap, and your breath hitches. Your crotch makes contact with the wet spot on her panties. You can feel it. She’s wet.

She smiles and starts to grind her wetness on your crotch. She lets out a hum, clearly satisfied with her student’s reaction. You’re desperate for the friction she’s giving you. Your breathing quickens. You’re struggling to contain a moan any longer. It’s sickly sweet.

Taeyeon rests her arms on your shoulders, pulling you closer into her embrace. You’re completely captured by her—her face, her smell, all of her, and you’re revelling in the way she’s doing it.

“Y–You smell so good, mommy,” you utter, enraptured within her pungent aroma. Your mouth opens slightly, hoping to lean in for a kiss.

She chuckles. “That’s J’adore for you, baby.”

Taeyeon then parts her lips, just slightly. She leans in until her hot breath touches yours. It mingles in the air between you two, thickening with desire.

At the first touch of your lips, you feel shockwaves coursing through you. Her tongue touches yours, and you get to feel the soft flesh inside her mouth. You get a hint of strawberries remaining on her lips. Maybe she was in a rush this morning.

As you clash into each other, her tongue starts to invade your mouth recklessly, as if she’s trying to take as much of you as possible. She lets out one sweet hum after another. Her hands are still gripping onto the back of your neck. Wet sounds of the kiss ring through your ear. The sensation on your crotch remains. She’s grinding against you adeptly. She’s good at this.

The kiss deepens. Her taste of strawberries becomes too intense for you to handle, but she won’t let you go. Her hands start to glide down your willing body again, feeling your soft skin and muscles. You let out moans and moans in response.

“M–Mommy,” you rasp, muffled into the kiss. Her grinds quicken, stealing breaths out of your lungs. You are overwhelmed by the sensation of her clothed sex on you.

Her thighs tense up, her breathing quickens. She’s going to cum from grinding on your cock, fully clothed.

She unlatches herself from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting you together. “Now, fuck, mommy’s going to cum, alright? Mmmm.” She bites her lip after she finishes her words, sucking in the air through her teeth. Fuck, that looks so hot.

“Y–Yes, mommy,” you reply. Your high is also coming. “I–I’m gonna cum too.”

Taeyeon giggles before grinding on your cock even faster, drawing stuttered moans out of you. Your loins tighten. You’re going to cum inside your pants!

Good thing you wear rather dark-colored pants today.

Her breathing becomes shorter and shorter. Her grip on your neck tightens. Her moans grow louder and louder. She’s cumming, and you’re all here to see it happen.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, ahh!”

Her body spasms on top of you. Her eyes flutter. Her mouth hangs open. She screams, loud. She just came from grinding on your lap alone, and that couldn’t make you happier. She lets out a groan as her orgasm subsides, threading her fingers through your hair.

“Good boy,” she says with a smile, pressing her red, pouty lips on your forehead. That’s going to leave a mark.

The all-too-familiar feeling builds up inside your stomach. It seeps through your lower body muscles. Your feet twitch. Your thighs stiffen. It’s there. It’s there.

“M-Mommy, I’m gonna cum,” you utter. 

She smiles back at you, planting another kiss on your cheek. You’ll have to wash your face before going to lunch.

“Cum for me, baby.”

You grunt loudly. Maybe someone could’ve heard that. Your body writhes in bliss. You can feel your cock twitching inside your pants. Cum leaks out from the tip and paints the insides of your pants white. Some of it seeps out through your pants. It feels so good.

A giggle leaves Taeyeon’s lips. She’s loving the way her student breaks under her like this. “Good boy, good boy.” She runs her fingers through your hair lovingly, making you whimper a little.

Your orgasm finally fades. You pant in exhaustion after the sensual act. Your hands are still shaking. You just cum from dry humping with your TA!

“You okay?” she asks. You’re probably looking disheveled right now, all panting, chest heaving. “You look–scattered.”

“Y–Yeah, mom–uh–Miss Kim,” you stammer out. Your mind is in haywire right now. Should you still call her mommy?”

Taeyeon chuckles at your apprehension. She seems satisfied with her student being a mess like this.

“Oh, and about the code,” she suddenly says, snapping you back into reality. “We might have to make an arrangement at a later date.”

You blink, trying to connect the pieces back together. You were struggling with PHP, so you asked Miss Kim to help you with that. However, you got a dry humping session instead. The code is still unfinished.

“Y–Yeah, the code,” you respond, giving her a shy smile. “An arrangement, sure.”

“Maybe–this Saturday? I don’t have classes on that day.”

“Sure, Miss Kim.”

She gives you a smile, satisfied with your answer, before climbing off your spent body. “That settles it, then.”

You smile back at her before getting off the chair–

Fuck, you forgot to put your pants back up. Taeyeon giggles softly at your predicament.

“Oh, and–be prepared,” she says.

“Yes, Miss Kim?”

“It’s going to be a long session.”

—

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

story masterlist | next

What the actual fuck.

You blink, absolutely dumbfounded. There’s some kind of grotesque, insect-like creature in front of you, buzzing obnoxiously as it flaps its wings. It bears the appearance of a fly, at least somewhat, but it’s much bigger than a normal fly, and its face looks like it came straight out of a low-budget horror movie. 

The point is, it’s not normal. It's not the kind of thing you’ve ever seen before. At the very least, not in real life. 

And yet, you’re the only one who seems to notice it.

“...I keep telling you, it’s weird,” a girl mumbles, scratching her neck impatiently. “I can’t get rid of it. There’s this chill that follows me around no matter where I go, and my shoulders feel weirdly heavy lately. I even went to a chiropractor to see if it would help. I feel so gross these days.” 

The fly-like creature is hovering closely above the girl, a disturbing smile plastered across its already unattractive face. It’s literally right next to her, and not only her, but the other girls that are gathered around. They’re all just talking like nothing’s even going on. Completely blind to the abnormal presence that lurks nearby. 

You’re the only one who can see that yucky-looking thing. How does that make any sense? How is it even possible for something like that to exist in real life? 

Actually… where are you right now? 

Once again, you blink. Something utterly strange is happening. The last thing you remember is going to bed, in your perfectly ordinary bedroom, so how in the world did you wake up in the middle of what appears to be a field? 

You’re at a school, by the looks of things. But certainly not the school you’re used to attending. It seems like you’re even wearing some unfamiliar uniform, and it would make sense for this to be a dream, but by all accounts, it’s way too realistic. 

Pinching your cheek doesn’t help. The scenery refuses to change, and sure enough, the creature is still hanging above that girl. It even lets out a shrill, high-pitched laugh (which she of course doesn’t hear), almost as if it’s taunting her.

You’re not sure what you should be doing right now. This is all one hell of a mindfuck, if you’re being honest. But that creature can’t be good news, and even though you’re admittedly pretty scared, it seems like you’re the only one who can see it. You’re the only one who even realizes it’s here. 

Swallowing your apprehension, you take a deep breath and approach. 

“Excuse me…?”

You call out to the group of girls. There’s no easy way to break this to them. How do you bring up the fact that there’s some weird creature in the vicinity? If they can’t see it, there’s no reason they’ll even believe you. They’ll probably just think you’re crazy or something. 

As it so happens, though, you aren’t required to recount some absurd, seemingly nonsensical tale. 

You’ve barely taken two steps forward when all of a sudden, the creature sharply turns its head in your direction. 

And then it screams. 

Just like its laugh, the sound is high-pitched and wholly unpleasant. You’re not even sure what prompted that kind of reaction, since it seemed pretty chill up until this point, but now, it’s trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

You’re worried that you might have triggered it somehow, and that it’s going to attack you, but that doesn’t happen either. It turns out that the scream it just let out wasn’t one of aggression, but rather, fear. 

So, it flies off before you can get any closer, and the girl who was complaining until just a few moments ago suddenly blinks, expression brightening.

“Whoa, wait,” she mumbles in disbelief. “It’s… it’s gone. I think I feel better now. No way. It’s actually gone! I thought it would never end!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just all in your head?” one of the other girls frowns, visibly unconvinced. She then turns towards you. “Oh. Sorry, were you talking to us just now? I didn’t really hear what you said.” 

“Uh.” 

You’re not sure what to say. The whole reason you came over was so you could warn them about that weird creature, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. It screamed right as it saw your face—which is kind of offensive, honestly—and then it flew off like no one’s business. 

A bit hesitant, you try asking, “Sorry if this sounds weird, but where are we right now?” 

Now it’s their turn to look dumbfounded. You can only imagine how visceral their reaction would have been if you’d actually brought up the weird fly creature. 

“What do you mean where are we? We’re… at school, where else?” 

The girl gestures all around her, as if it should be obvious. Granted, you deduced as much, but that wasn’t really what you were asking. All of this is just so ridiculous. How in the world does a person manage to go to sleep in their own room and wake up someplace they’ve never been before?

The group decides to walk away, probably because you weirded them out with your stupid question, and you can even hear them whispering amongst themselves. 

“Why’d she even ask that all of a sudden…?” 

“I don’t know. She transferred here just recently, right? Maybe she’s still getting used to things. It was kind of weird, though.” 

They keep talking about it as they leave, probably not realizing you can still hear them. Whatever. You’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. As things stand, you woke up god-knows-where, and you just saw some freakish creature a second ago, so you’re starting to worry that you might be going insane. 

The only explanation is that this has to be some kind of dream. A lucid dream, perhaps? That’s what they call these kinds of things, right?

This is way too freaky, though. Can I make myself wake up? I really don’t like this. It gives me the creeps. 

You desperately try to force yourself awake, but regretfully, it doesn’t work. And you’re not even given much time to speculate on the issue any further. 

A soccer ball comes flying at you and hits you right in the face.

It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. In fact, it hurts so much that you’re knocked flat onto your back, groaning as you cradle your poor nose, which feels like it’s just been split open. 

“...holy shit, are you okay?!” 

You can hear a student running towards you, but since you’re lying on your back convinced you’re about to die, you don’t pay it much mind. The immense amount of pain you’re feeling is absurd. Even for a lucid dream, isn’t this too much?

However, things are only about to get weirder. 

Like way, way weirder. 

“I’m so sorry!” the same student apologizes. It’s a boy, by the sounds of it, and you hear him drop to his knees beside you. “I swear I wasn’t even trying to kick the ball that hard! I barely even used any force!”

From afar, another student chimes in. “Even when you hold back, you’re way too strong, Itadori! Is she dead? You killed her, didn’t you?”

Did he just say… Itadori? 

For just a moment, the pain subsides, and clarity overtakes your features. You manage to squint your eyes open and find a boy staring down at you. A boy with bright brown eyes, and spiky pink hair styled in an undercut. 

A boy that you’ve most definitely seen before. 

Your jaw drops open. There’s just no way. This is… Itadori Yuji? The protagonist of Jujutsu Kaisen? A fictional series, which, by definition, means he doesn’t actually exist? 

Yet here he is, fussing over you and looking immeasurably guilty for having just kicked a soccer ball in your face. And even though you keep trying to tell yourself that this is a dream, it’s getting harder and harder to deny. The sensations you feel—the pain, the confusion, and the excited fluttering in your chest—are impossible to ignore.

It all makes sense now. That weird creature you saw earlier was a cursed spirit. That explains why those girls didn’t even notice it. Ordinary humans normally can’t perceive curses. Most of the time, they’re completely unaware of their existence.

You realize how utterly absurd this is. People don’t just wake up and find themselves sucked into their favorite anime. No matter how badly some fans might wish for it, this kind of thing just doesn’t happen.

Or at least, it’s not supposed to.

“Wait, your—your nose is bleeding!” Itadori exclaims. “I need to get you to the infirmary! Can you walk? Or should I carry you?” 

He appears frantic, which of course he is, since he’s a good guy. He’s the kind of guy who always cares about others. A guy with a big heart, a friendly demeanor, and a penchant for justice. Truly, the perfect protagonist. 

…so, is this seriously happening right now?

“I-I’m fine,” you try to insist. “I just… need a moment. And then I’ll be okay.” 

Itadori seems entirely unconvinced, so you suspect your nose is probably bleeding even more than you fear. Right now, you honestly couldn’t care less, though. Your heart is pounding relentlessly. The excitement and awe you feel can’t even be put into words.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary,” Itadori says again. He resists the urge to outright pick you up into his arms, and after a moment’s pause, he offers you his hand instead. “Here. Try standing up. If not, I’ll carry you there, okay?” 

It’s difficult just to form a response. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence. The fact that you’re face to face with someone you never thought you’d be able to see in person, let alone speak to. 

But even if it seems hard to believe, even if it makes you want to question your sanity, this is real. This is actually happening. 

And so, you take his hand—changing the course of your life as you know it. 

story masterlist | next

Enjoying the story so far? Read more on Quotev or Ao3!!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

Check out the author’s library!

[glitter-stained]

Incredible how dc pushes the "Jason died because he was reckless" narrative to try and absolve Bruce of blame because, victim-blaming aside, that's worse, right? You understand how that's worse?

No matter how you interpret it, in Jason's post-crisis run, Bruce is gonna be partially responsible for Jason's death, because he was the one to offer him Robin in the first place in exchange for a good foster home (Batman 1940 #408), and because he had fucked up with Jason to the point he felt the need to run to a whole other continent in search for family (Batman 1940, a death in the family). Like, that part of responsibility, that remains no matter how you spin it, because regardless of why specifically Jason went in the warehouse, that's why he was in Ethiopia with the Robin suit in the first place.

But this aside, in canon? Jason goes in the warehouse because Sheila betrays him and he does what any hero, and many children, would do in his place: he wants to help Sheila, he listens to her, he trusts his mother. The people directly responsible for Jason's death, in canon, are Joker, Sheila, and crowd of goons that helped Joker and Sheila take Jason down in the warehouse. It's clear as day who the villains are in there and it doesn't add any stain on Bruce's ledger.

But according to that victim-blaming narrative that Alfred and Bruce (and others later on) spin in-story, and that dc spins in meta? Jason died because he was reckless. So it's Jason's fault right? Yes and no. I need to write a more detailed meta about the two types of recklessness and how confusing the two accidentally led to Starling writing a compelling narrative with Jason, but basically the important question here is why was Jason reckless. And Starlin answers us, in text, in a death in the family: Jason has been behaving abnormally recklessly recently, because he's suffering. Bruce tells us, straight up, that he suspects Jason to be suicidal. This isn't the first time Starlin's Batman says Jason is suicidal: even in Batman (1940) #416, Batman explains Jason's "reckless" behaviour to Dick as a symptom of being mentally unwell, and very clearly implies Jason already struggles with suicidal thoughts (which I maintain is the reason why Dick changed his mind on Jason so quickly and gave him his number with a "you can reach out to me, don't let a lack of communication become your achille heel" talk at the end of #416.)

And Bruce's POV mind be often biased, but we see, ourselves, Jason jump in front of bullets in aditf and it's like... As much as I'm not convinced with Bruce's random explanation for Jason's struggles in aditf, I do agree that he is being suicidal (and considering the stories that come right before this one, I completely understand why he would be.) So that's why Jason is reckless in aditf. It's not why he died, but if we listen to that victim-blaming narrative that claims his recklessness is indeed what killed him, doesn't that make Bruce more guilty? Because that means Bruce knew Jason was suicidal (literally jumping in front of bullets with apparently no consideration for his life) and left a fifteen years old active suicide risk alone in a completely foreign environment after having messed up very severely with him during the whole issue, and then he told him "do not go into that warehouse alone, there's a very dangerous guy who wants to kill you." In terms of responsibility, Bruce is actually very damn lucky Jason, like some impulsive suicidal teenagers his age would have, didn't think "oh well, I'll try my luck against the guy who wants to kill me alone and that way either I win and get reassured in my heroism and right to be alive, or I die and that saves me the trouble of buying rope and a step ladder!" Bruce took the Robin costume from Jason to protect him from this exact type of situation but didn't seem to realize the danger he was putting Jason in at that moment. And it's not just me saying that! I don't have the exact reference (I think it was in Gotham Knights?...to verify) Barbara, after finding out about Jason's death, literally tells Bruce that this is his fault and that she warned him Jason had issues.

Of course, all of this is moot point, because it's not why Jason went in the warehouse in the first place, but I can't help but feel baffled at the audacity of DC, who are so deep into their psychophobia, classism, general victim-blaming bullshit and ingrained stereotypical conception of the "troubled teen" that they don't realize that the revisionist interpretation of Jason's death they are defending is literally worse for Bruce. And I have to say, it certainly doesn't paint people trash-talking Jason and blaming him for his death to prop Tim up as "better" and "different" in a very good light either (especially since, if i'm not wrong, there's an arc in which Tim struggles with suicidal thoughts himself... especially since Tim's trauma happened after he became Robin and is, for the most part, a direct consequence of his heroism. Doesn't exactly paint the adults in Jason and Tim's life in a favourable light...)

Anyway, stop blaming Jason's death on his recklessness to absolve Bruce: you're only making it worse.

[i2sunric]

gynecologist sunghoon who checks up on you and makes you think that the way he touches you is part of his job and that he needs to what the problem is with you down there with touching you like that. reader is naive and nonstop apologizes for moaning and for it making her feel good. eventually she realizes because she can’t be that dumb lmao and they both just enjoy in the end

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐓 (p.sh)

a/n: let me just make this a drabble cause i don’t have the inspiration to make it long. hope you like it tho <3

“Just relax.” Sunghoon’s voice soothed when you confessed that it was your first time at the gynaecologist “It won’t hurt, I promise.”

You slowly nodded, feeling ever so small and exposed, sitting on the chair “Okay, doc.”

He gave you a sheepish smile and tugged the waistband of your panties “Let me take this off for you, mh?”

You helped him by raising your hips as he slid them off your legs and gently folded onto the table beside you “Now, put your legs here.” He told you as he pointed at the small stands on the chair.

You complied “Good girl.” He murmured and with a knob, he parted your legs until he could rest comfortably between them “Is it okay?”

You took a deep breath and nodded , “Tell me.” Sunghoon’s deep voice made you shiver “It’s okay. You can continue.”

Sunghoon nodded and started the visit, his gaze fell on your pussy and fuck— if it wasn’t the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen.

Seriously, you were so perfect, from the way you squirmed as the cold air of the room hit your sensitive skin to how you seemed so oblivious of it clenching whenever his fingers brushed against it.

“You’re healthy.” He reassured you, watching as your shoulders finally ease, tension slipping out of your body.

“Thank you—“ You were about to say but he cut you in “I need to make some more investigations, is it okay for you?”

You nodded and as you met his dark gaze, you remember you had to tell him “It’s okay.”

“Great.” Sunghoon murmured and slowly brushed his finger against your clit, making your hips jerk at the contact.

“Sorry!” You exclaimed, taken aback by the foreign feeling your body reacted “S’okay.” Sunghoon smirked.

His finger kept brushing against it and he watched as your eyes grew half lidded at the feeling. He slowly gathered your juices “I need to check if it gets wet alright.” He said a shitty excuse and brushed his finger against your sensitive bud once more.

You let out a soft hum, though you weren’t sure if it was for the strange feeling or as a reply.

“Does it feel good?” He questioned, quickening his pace just a little “I need to know.”

He also knew that if someone ever found out what he was doing, he would be fired and maybe sent to court, but how could he resist when you were literally so innocent and oblivious to his nasty acts?

You nodded, your grip on the armchair growing ever so strong when you for the itch to reach for his hair and pull his head close to your pussy “Good.”

“Bet it does.” He tsked and looked up at your beautiful face, the way your eyes struggled to keep open and your mouth fell agape. Cheeks already flushed.

“And this?” Sunghoon asked and slipped one finger inside you, cursing under his breath at how tight you were.

You let out a moan and widened your eyes. You weren’t sure why but you didn’t think that was an appropriate act from Sunghoon.

“D-doc?” You said and moaned out loud when his single digit brushed against a certain spot that had you seeing stars. “Found it.” Sunghoon murmured.

“Doc!” You exclaimed, frustrated with yourself for feeling such strong pleasure “I— I don’t think you should be doing this.”

Of course, you were naive but not stupid.

“No, I shouldn’t.” His finger brushed against your g-spot again “Do you want me to stop.”

You let out a shaky breath, debating your answers. His skilled finger moved inside of you in such a perfect way that you couldn’t even think straight, your mind clouding blissfully.

Nobody had ever touched you that way, and you had only faintly heard about how good sex was. But that was your prepping and if it felt like heaven already, you could only imagine what the afterwards felt like.

“No.” You answered, arching your back in the chair “Don’t stop.”

“Fuck.” Sunghoon cursed at the eagerness in your voice and added a second digit, struggling to even make it fit.

“You’re so tight.” He commented, having to spit on your pussy to make it wetter, so that it wouldn’t hurt to thrust his digits inside of you.

You moaned, head falling back. You felt so full, so good.

“D-doc.” You murmured “Call me Sunghoon.” He demanded and you complied “Sunghoon!”

He felt you clenching around him “Fuck, you’re almost pushing me out at how tight you are.” He bit his bottom lip, feeling his pants growing restrained by the minutes ticking.

“Mh.” You hummed in pleasure, your back arching from the chair “Sunghoon..”

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked and the way his name rolled out of his tongue, so sinful, it made you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Feels funny.” You frowned and Sunghoon chuckled, knowing very well what you meant “Does it, now?”

His fingers rubbed against your spongy walls and thrusted in and out, trying to bring you closer to the edge.

You cried out as you felt a knot tighten in your stomach “Don’t stop.” You panted as pleasure started overtaking your senses.

“I won’t stop.” He reassured “Just let it go, baby.” Your eyes rolled back at his pace quickening, the squelching sounds of your wet pussy filling the whole room.

Fortunately, you were the last patient of the day and no one was most likely to be in the waiting room.

“Cum for me.” At his words your whole body squirmed in the sit, moaning out. Your orgasm washed you in a such a delicious way, little trembles rocked through you.

Sunghoon rode you out of your orgasm, his fingers still slowly moving inside of you until you calmed down and he slipped them out, making you moan at the loss.

He looked at his cum-coated digits and almost came on spot himself. He put them in his mouth and sucked them clean, humming at your sweet feeling.

“You even taste so good, don’t you?” He chuckled and got up, handing you back your panties.

“I told you it wouldn’t hurt.” You nodded, a little sweaty from the act.

Thank you, doc.” You blushed “For everything.”

Sunghoon just smirked at you “I’m looking forward our next meeting, Y/N.”

[bambooswordwielder]

Obsessed with the fact that Shen Yuan only transmigrates when all the Peaklords have settled into their positions for a few years because the idea of Shang Qinghua being stuck watching Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge arguing for nth time about some budget detail that is DEFINITELY getting overblown now and just being stuck thinking

"Damn this would've been such a good enemies to lovers plot line... Imagine how much I could've made off of them..." and regretting not monetising their rivalry more before he killed off Liu Qingge ( "Oh and the angst Shen Qingqiu would've faced after his secret lover died and everyone blamed him for it! Fans would've been begging for more extras!" 🐹💔)

Like all the peaklords are desperately trying to mediate and fix the situation and Shang Qinghua is just imagining his one hundredth Fix-It Fic/AU where Shen Jiu is the King's trusted scholar and Liu Qingge is the King's personal bodyguard

Everyone thinks when a single tear falls from Shang Qinghua's eyes its because during Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu's fight they destroyed both his newly drafted budget (for the fifth time that month) and the fact they also destroyed the table (for the third time that week and the week just started)

Reality is Shang Qinghua is crying because he thought of an angsty death scene for the two Romeo and Juliet style because both their families couldn't accept them being together

Years of this pass and at some point he even picks up writing again (specifically about characters clearly based on Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge) and he gets really popular, popular enough his novels start to flood all of Cang Qiong and even Liu Mingyan takes some inspiration from them

Everyone knows damn well that the characters are clearly meant to be Peaklord Shen and Peaklord Liu, but no one tells because they all are legitimately waiting for the next volume of "Battle-to-your-poisonous-heart-and-peaches"

Does everyone know it's Shang Qinghua... Noooo.. Would anyone admit if they did know.... No.

Then all the sudden on day Shen Qingqiu suddenly looked in the dictionary and discovered what the word 'nice' is and now he doesn't abuse his students 🐹🤯

He even let himself get poisoned and potentially ruined his cultivation for life for Luo Binghe of all people!? Um excuse Airplane Logic, but the MC is supposed to only get all the good stuff AFTER he falls into the abyss!

And what's this about Liu Qingge helping to 'clear' his meridians so he has to personally visit Qing Jing peak every week?? Def something is off, an author knows fishy when he sees it

For how many years Shang Qinghua is stuck watching these two do their whole "You're my precious Shidi" and "I'll always be here for you" act and he's just stuck eating dogfood wondering when exactly is the marriage extra coming in and why the System won't tell me why Shen Qingqiu is acting all happy go lucky now

Shang Qinghua notices Shen Qingqiu talking to Yue Qingyuan more, he notices Qing Jing disciples running straight to Shen Qingqiu with joy and excitement rather than the reserved fear they had before, he notices how Shen Qingqiu only glares at him twice every meeting than before!

Maybe this isn't his version of PIDW, maybe it's a fan made version where Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu fall in love and with the power of love and friendship Shen Qingqiu learns to be kind and to care and isn't going to cause Luo Binghe to go down his dark path and maybe they can all have a happyily ever after—

*Endless Abyss Arc*

"Oh fuck–"

[Before Endless Abyss Arc]

*Shang Qinghua watching from a distance as Luo Binghe is practically clinging to Shen Qingqiu's side. Shen Qingqiu pats Luo Binghe's head and Luo Binghe does THAT smile he only does for his wives*

"Well this is an interesting fanfic..."

[After Airplane Reveal]

"Wait... So you're actually a transmigrater as well, Cucumber-Bro?"

"Yeah, and?"

"..."

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Do you hate, or have you at least at some point hated, Liu Qingge?"

"I– No–Wait what???"

"Let me reword it. Have you ever considered murdering him at one point?"

"WHYAREYOUASKINGMETHESEQUESTIONS!? YOUKNOWWHATHAPPENEDTOSHENJIU! IMNOTRISKINGHISFATE!"

"... So I'll take that as a no."

"OBVIOUSLY!?"

"So it's just a normal Friends to lovers 😮‍💨 No flavour 🙄"

Shang Qinghua was then brutally attacked.

[During the Five Years SY was dead]

*Shang Qinghua watching Liu Qingge go every single day to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Qingqiu's body*

"Oh my Airplane.... It's not a enemies-to-lovers... It's not Teacher X Disciple... It's a bloody love triangle with both! Oh how much money this plot would've made me 💔 I would've been able to pay for four months worth of rent and groceries!"

Random Disciple visiting An Ding: "Um.... Is Shang-Shibo okay? He fell on the ground?"

An Ding Disciple: "Leave him. He does that sometimes. Now about your budget request..."

*Shang Qinghua screaming in the background*

Random Disciple: "..."

An Ding Disciple: "..."

Random Disciple: "Should we check on–"

An Ding Disciple, now dragging other disciple away: "Let's settle this at your peak."

Years later when Bingqiu have already had their wedding and everyone has become somewhat tolerant of their relationship, Shang Qinghua just sighs loudly and Shen Yuan asks him what's up. Shang Qinghua looks him in the eyes and just shakes his head.

"My ship...💔"

"..."

"OW– Why did you have go hit me on the head!?"

"Because I don't want to know what's going on in there and I need to make sure what's in there stays in there."