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simplyhughes · 2 months

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If you’re taking requests, can I get a Hughes brother (I don’t care which one) childhood friend to lovers fluff?

Lake House

The summer when y/n and Luke have given into their feelings (*^ω^*)

WC: 1743

Anon thank you so much for this request! It was a lot of fun!!!

Pairing: LH43 x Reader

Warnings: None (?) just fluffy fluff. There may be grammatical errors, my apologies!!

Stars decorated the sky, painting patterns across the earth. Crickets chirped softly while teasing banter and laughter mingled with the gentle melodies of the top hits radio, enveloping the outdoor patio of the Hughes’ lake house. You and your family had made their way to Michigan every summer, staying with the friends you call family. Your mother and Mrs. Hughes, who insists you call her Ellen, shared a college dorm, and the rest is history.

The two families gathered around a lit fire sharing stories from throughout the year, making up for the time spent apart. You stepped out onto the porch after using the restroom to see that all the folding chairs and loveseats had been filled. You gave a tug to your sweatshirt sleeve, scanning the seating situation to decide your next move. The youngest of the Hughes brothers, Luke, glanced your way, initiating eye contact.

Being the same age as Luke created a unique bond between you, distinct from your relationships with his two older brothers. When Quinn and Jack would sneak out to meet with some girls by the dock, it would be you and Luke in your makeshift fort binging movies. Or when everyone would pile onto the boat to go wake surfing, Luke would stay behind cause he knows you get seasick. It was the stuff like that growing up that made you two so close. Your mothers would gush behind your backs, betting on your future together on who would confess first. But you two were young and oblivious, just living in the moment, cherishing all the time you could be together before summer came to an end.

As your eyes met Luke's, his demeanor changed; his eyes softened but his body tensed. He raised his hand, tapping his leg, signaling you to come and sit with him. For some reason, you were slightly taken aback. It is not like you haven't shared a seat before… you guys used to have sleepovers and share a bed. But it may be the fact that you both are all grown up and that Luke got a whole hell of a lot more handsome. You mouthed “Are you sure?” over to the boy, and he just replied with a nod. The conversations around you continued as you walked across the wooden patio.

"Hey..." you began, glancing down at Luke. His gaze rose to meet yours, and a grin spread across his face as he wrapped one of his large hands around your waist, almost pulling you onto his lap. You followed his lead and took a seat. His arm then encircled your waist completely, and he rested his head on your shoulder. Your body initially tensed at the sudden display of affection, but soon you relaxed against his chest as the two of you eased into a casual conversation.

Luke's older brothers didn't miss his bold actions. Quinn nudged Jack in the side and discreetly pointed in your direction. Jack stifled a laugh followed by a playful jab to the gut by his older brother. “Who knew Lukey had game?” Jack joked with a stupid smirk. Quinn merely shrugged, signaling Jack to halt his teasing before you and Luke caught on.

Throughout the rest of the summer, Luke's gestures did not simmer down. Anyone who didn't know the pair would think they were a couple. Whenever you were together, one of you was always hanging on to the other, like a support beam. If one of you headed to get food, the other promptly followed suit. And if one of you emerged from the lake sopping wet, the other immediately wrapped them in a warm towel. Luke's actions weren't entirely surprising to you. Longing touches, tight embraces, the gentle tucking of hair behind your ear—all felt like natural extensions of your friendship. But both your mothers saw. They saw the subtle dance of affection that whispered of deeper feelings. It was in the lingering gazes, the softness of their voices when speaking to each other, and the way their laughter seemed to harmonize effortlessly. Luke's brothers could see it. They could see the unspoken attraction between you, clear as day. Deep down you knew it, Luke too. Yet both of you could not rattle the idea that the other didn't reciprocate.

The boat ripped through the water under the control of Jack. “Jack ease up man! You're gonna kill us all,” Quinn yelped. Luke, who sat lazily right next to you, just chuckled at their antics. You looked a little pale in the face.

“Hey… You okay y/n?” Luke questioned, dragging his hand through his damp curls.

“Does he not know how to drive this thing?” You complained sluggishly.

“Awh is someone feeling a little seasick?” He teased. “Jack slow down you asshat or let Huggy take over!” He shouted over to the two boys who still happened to be fussing at the wheel.

“C’mere…” Luke slung his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively rested your head against his.

Jack shuffled out of the driver's seat annoyed. He shot a glance over in your and Luke's direction.

“Oh my god, can you guys just kiss and get this over with already… Jesus,” Jack mumbled, letting out his frustration. The color returned to your face as Quinn took over, but the pale was replaced with an embarrassing red. You hid your face in Luke's chest trying to ignore Jack's words.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke retorted. “You're such a dick.”

The sun had set and the boat pulled into the dock. The sky was all different hues of pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds. Jack had rushed off the boat to meet up with this ‘rocket’ he was talking to leaving you, Luke, and Quinn. “Don't worry Huggy we can clean this up,” Luke said, gesturing to the empty beer cans, towels, and sunscreen that littered the boat. “You sure?” Quinn hummed. You could tell he was tired; I guess it is hard work being the boat's captain. Luke nodded back at his eldest brother while you let out a groan. The boat bobbed as Quinn stepped off. You shuffled across the boat's floor, grabbing a trash bag. Luke tossed the empty cans into the bag that you held open. “Maybe you picked the wrong sport, Lukey,” you joked as he threw another can in, mimicking a basketball toss. Your teamwork was pretty effective, only taking 15 minutes to get the boat back in good shape. Luke hopped off the boat onto the dock. His hand extended to grab yours.

“M’lady,” He snorted, taking a bow, helping you off the boat.

You hit him with your hips. “Dork,” you rebutted.

As the colors of the sunset faded into the velvety embrace of the night sky, you and Luke found yourselves on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. The only sounds were the gentle whispers of the wind through the trees that seemed to be as tall as skyscrapers, the crickets that chirped into the early hours of the morning, and the crashing of water as it rolled into the muddy lakeside shore.

Luke let out a soft sigh, his gaze fixed on you with a look that made your heart flutter. You tried to keep your composure, your eyes focused straight ahead. But you simply could not help yourself any longer.

"What are you looking at, Hughes?" you quipped, breaking the silence.

"You," he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth deep within you.

"Me?" you echoed, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Only you," he murmured, inching closer until there was barely any space between you.

He took his hand, guiding a piece of your fallen hair behind your ear. His hand then stayed resting on your cheek. Placing your hand on top of his you spoke, "Luke…".

“Can I kiss you y/n?” he interrupted.

Your eyes dilated, still staring back at his. Your throat went dry, parched by the sudden rush of adrenaline, while your heart pounded against your ribcage, drowning out all other sounds. The only thing you could do was nod. He brought his face close an inch away from yours. His hot breath whispered against your cheek. Time stretched, suspended in a haze of anticipation before his lips finally met yours. His unoccupied hand quickly found a new place to reside, resting on your hip, pulling you in as close as possible. Your lips parted, both in search of air. That single kiss was not enough for Luke. He dove back in, pressing kisses to the side of your neck, trailing behind your ear, with his hair tickling your jaw. The new sensation made you gasp, locking your fingers into his hair. “Luke…” you groaned.

Eventually, the heat had worn down, leaving both parties in shock at the events that had just occurred.

“Y/n…” Luke started, “I have liked you- wait no…” he stopped himself. “I have loved you for the longest time. At the end of every summer, my stomach twists itself in a knot. I dread leaving the lake, I dread leaving summer behind, but I dread leaving you the most. I am not sure how I have been able to get myself through the long winters and the busy fall. It may be the lingering thought that I will eventually make my way back to you. You are my best friend, you always have been and you always will be. I don't wanna screw this up, and if you don't like me back we can pretend this never even happened…” he rambled.

“Luke.” You cut him off.

“Yeah?” He quickly replied, turning his eyes onto you.

“We literally just made out you idiot… I would hope I like you back.” His chest sank back in relief with an exhale. “I cannot picture my life without you.” You added with a more serious tone. “We have grown up together and I expect to grow old with you.” Luke didn't reply with words. He pulled you back into a deep kiss.

The sun had officially set, leaving a blanket of twinkling lights. The young couple spent the night together in the wake of new romantic revelations. This was the night where their friendship had blossomed into something more.

#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes 43 #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #simplyhughes

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rynwritesreid · 4 months

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Apologies| Spencer Reid

A/N: Before I watched CM the only American crime show I watched was Bones, and I wish that they had a crossover at some point(Bones and Spencer, Booth and Hotch, pls). I have also started re-watching English crime shows, Lewis specifically, and I forgot how good they are but I will always view scandis as the superior crime show writers, because can you get better than the killing and jordskott?!

Summary: After a breakup with Spencer, you notice how he only flirts with other people when you’re around. However, when you give Spencer a taste of his own medicine, he realises it will always just be you, and no other woman will ever come close to you.

Content: fem! Reader. Make up sex. Oral (f! Receiving). No mentions of contraception. PinV. Smut. Fluff. Mentions of a breakup and then getting back together. 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

It wasn’t a rough, or hostile, breakup, you two still loved each other, but for whatever reason you just seemed to stop communicating with each other, and that seemed to lead to the breakdown of your relationship. You still worked well together, and as you promised Hotch when the two of you started dating, you never let your relationship affect your work.

However, Spencer seemed to enjoy openly flirting with other women when you were around, and it was an obvious attempt to make you jealous, but you were not going to let him win. You wanted to give Spencer a taste of his own medicine, show him how it felt.

One evening, as you sat at the bar of a local pub, nursing a drink and observing the patrons around you, an idea formed in your mind. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you spotted a handsome stranger sitting alone at a nearby table. He seemed lost in thought, a certain air of mystery surrounding him.

You began a casual conversation with the stranger, making witty remarks and laughing at his jokes. The exchange was light-hearted, devoid of any deeper meaning. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had been observing your interaction from afar. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling inside him. As much as he wanted to appear unaffected, he couldn't deny the pang of possessiveness that gripped his heart.

He watched as you leaned closer to the stranger, your laughter fading into a whisper. His jaw clenched, and he suddenly felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The unfamiliar sensation was unsettling, a mix of anger and longing.

Unable to bear it any longer, Spencer excused himself from the table he had been observing you from and made his way across the pub. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if he were dragging an anchor behind him. The sound of his heart pounding filled his ears, drowning out the din of the pub around him.

As Spencer approached the table, his eyes never left yours. The stranger turned to face him, a curious yet guarded expression on his face.

"Mind if I join you?" Spencer asked, his voice steady despite the swirling emotions within him.

The stranger shrugged, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "Be my guest."

Spencer pulled out a chair and took a seat, careful to keep his composure despite the tumultuous storm roaring within him. He glanced at the stranger, trying to decipher what you had found so intriguing about him. The man exuded an air of confidence and mystery that seemed to draw you in.

The conversation continued, but this time there was an underlying tension that filled the air. Both Spencer and the stranger engaged in a battle of wits, each trying to outdo the other with clever remarks and subtle jabs. It was a dance of words, laced with hidden meanings.

You watched the exchange unfold, your mischievous smile growing wider. You couldn't help but relish in the power shift that was taking place before your eyes. The atmosphere crackled with an electric energy, charged by the unspoken competition between Spencer and the stranger. It was as if they were fighting for your attention, vying for a part of you that had been neglected.

The conversation escalated into a sophisticated game of verbal chess. Words ricocheted across the table, each remark glinting with double entendre. The stranger's eyes sparkled with amusement, seemingly enjoying the challenge that Spencer presented. And yet, beneath his composed facade, Spencer's hands trembled slightly, betraying his inner turmoil.

“Well, I am enjoying this conversation, it’s getting pretty late, so I am going to head home now.” You said, standing up from the table with a sly grin. Both Spencer and the stranger looked at you, momentarily stunned by the abrupt end to their battle of wits.

"But the night is still young," the stranger replied, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

You chuckled, enjoying the power you held over both men. "Perhaps another time," you teased, shooting a playful wink at Spencer before turning to leave.

Spencer's eyes followed you as you walked away, a mixture of frustration and longing etched on his face. He had wanted to prove himself, to show you that he was worthy of your attention. But now, it seemed as though he had only pushed you further away.

The stranger cleared his throat, breaking Spencer out of his reverie. "Quite the woman you have there," he commented, a touch of admiration in his voice.

Spencer nodded absentmindedly, unable to tear his gaze away from your retreating figure. "Yes, she is certainly something," Spencer replied, his voice laced with a mix of resignation and determination. “As she said, it is getting late, so I also better be heading back home.”

The stranger watched as Spencer stood up from the table, his eyes filled with a newfound determination. "Good luck," the stranger called after him, a hint of sympathy colouring his voice.

Spencer nodded in acknowledgment, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to win you back. He had been foolish to let things deteriorate to this point, to let his own insecurities drive a wedge between you. But now, he was ready to fight for what he realized he couldn't bear to lose.

As Spencer made his way back home, his mind was consumed with thoughts of how to repair the damage he'd caused. He knew he couldn't let his insecurities continue to sabotage his relationship with you. The evening's encounter at the pub had been a wake-up call, a jolt to his system that reminded him of what truly mattered.

Upon entering his apartment, Spencer took a deep breath, determined to set things right. He grabbed his phone and dialled your number, hoping that you would answer and give him a chance to explain himself. The phone rang once, twice, before you finally picked up.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, your voice tinged with curiosity.

"Hi," Spencer replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "I... I wanted to talk."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before you spoke again. "Alright. Come over."

Relief flooded through Spencer as he hung up the phone and quickly made his way over to your apartment.

As Spencer stood outside your apartment door, he took a deep breath to steady his racing heart. He knew that this conversation would be pivotal, a make-or-break moment for the two of you. With newfound determination, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

The sound reverberated through the hallway, each rap echoing with anticipation. Seconds ticked by, and Spencer began to doubt if you would actually let him in. Just as he was about to turn away, the door creaked open, revealing your figure framed in the soft glow of the hallway light.

You looked at him, a mixture of curiosity and caution in your eyes. "Come in," you said softly, stepping aside to let him enter.

Spencer walked into your apartment, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him. The familiar scent of your home enveloped him, bringing back memories of happier times.

“What did you want to talk about, Spencer?”

Spencer took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze lingering on you. “Us. I want to talk about us. Was your intention to make me jealous tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by Spencer's directness. "Jealous? No, that wasn't my intention. I was merely enjoying a friendly conversation."

“Sure, but you enjoyed it. Didn’t you? Watching two men fight over you.”

You paused for a moment, considering Spencer's question. "Maybe I did," you admitted, your voice softening. "But it wasn't about wanting to make you jealous. It was about wanting to see if you still cared enough to fight for me."

Spencer's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "I do care, more than you can imagine," he confessed, his voice filled with earnestness.

“Really? Why have you been flirting with other women, every chance you get?”

Spencer's eyes widened at your accusation, his heart sinking. He had hoped that you hadn't noticed his behaviour, that somehow, he could keep his insecurities hidden. But now, faced with your piercing gaze, he knew he couldn't hide any longer.

"I... I didn't mean for it to seem like flirting," Spencer stammered, his voice tinged with regret. "I was just... I don't know, trying to prove something to myself." He took a step closer to you, desperation etched on his face. "But it was never about not wanting you or needing someone else. It was about my own fears and insecurities getting the better of me."

You looked at him, a mix of frustration and understanding crossing your face. "But flirting with other women won't solve anything, Spencer. It only pushes me further away."

“I get that now, but it will always just be you. And seeing you flirt with that man, made me realise I can’t lose you; I can never lose you.” Spencer took a deep breath, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I don’t want to lose you either, I love you Spencer, and I don’t think I will ever stop loving you.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your confession, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over him. He had been so afraid that his actions had pushed you too far, that he had lost you for good. But in that moment, as your words hung in the air, he knew that there was still hope.

"I love you too," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "And I promise, from this moment on, I will do everything in my power to make it right. To show you that you're the only one I want."

You believed him, he wasn’t the type of person to lie about this stuff. He moved closer to you, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin gently. His touch was warm, his eyes filled with sincerity as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

The kiss, filled with longing and forgiveness, spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that moment, the weight of their insecurities and misunderstandings lifted, leaving only the love they held for each other.

As the kiss deepened, Spencer's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Every brush of his lips against yours was a reminder of the passion they shared, of the promises they made to each other.

When you finally pulled apart, your breaths mingling in the air, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I never want to hurt you like that again."

You reached up, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I believe you," you said softly. His lips once again found yours in a tender embrace, and the world outside ceased to exist. In that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger than ever.

Spencer wasn’t going to let this kiss end though, he couldn’t. He would never be able to find someone like you, you were his soulmate, and nothing would ever stop him loving you.

The kiss deepened, becoming a passionate dance of love and desire. Spencer's hands roamed over your body, tracing the familiar curves and contours he knew so well. The room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and soft moans as the intensity between you grew.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your chests heaving with a mixture of anticipation and longing. Spencer's eyes locked with yours, his gaze filled with an unspoken promise. He had made up his mind to fight for your love, to be a better partner than he had been before.

"I don't want to lose you," Spencer whispered, his voice laced with determination. "I can't imagine my life without you. Let me make it right."

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love shining back at you. The doubts that had plagued your mind began to crumble, replaced by a renewed hope for the future.

“How will you go about making it right?” you said with a hint of mischief in your eyes and a small smirk on your lips.

Spencer grinned back at you, a spark in his eyes. "Trust me, you're going to love what I have in store for us."

“Oh really?” you replied, raising an eyebrow playfully.

As Spencer led you into the living room, he gently pushed you onto the couch, the cushions sinking under your weight. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked on yours, a determined look in his eyes.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered again, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "I promise to be better. I promise to be the man you deserve, the partner you need, and the lover you want."

You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. You could see the sincerity there, the resolution to make things right. You could see the love that had never truly waned, that had always been there, waiting for you to see it.

"Okay, Spencer," you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. "I trust you. Show me how you're going to make it right."

Spencer's grin widened as he moved closer to you, his eyes filled with mischief and excitement. He reached out, gently trailing his fingers along your cheek, his touch leaving a trail of tingling sensation in its wake.

"I'm going to remind you of just how much you mean to me," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, will be a testament to my love for you."

His lips descended upon yours once more, this time with a renewed fervour. The kiss was hungry and passionate, as if both of you were trying to convey all the emotions that had been left unsaid during those tumultuous times. Spencer's hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves and dips that he had missed so much.

You responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer. A soft moan escaped your lips as his hands found their way under your shirt, his fingertips gently grazing your skin. The warmth between you intensified, a magnetic attraction pulling you closer together.

As the kiss broke, both of you were gasping for air, your hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of your desires. You looked into each other's eyes, the love and trust shining brightly, a beacon of hope for the future.

"I'm ready," you whispered, your voice filled with earnestness. "Show me how you're going to make it right, Spencer. I'm ready to trust you and be with you, no matter what."

Spencer smiled, a look of pure joy and relief washing over his face. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly towards the bedroom. The anticipation in the air was palpable, fuelled by the love that had brought you both to this moment.

Upon reaching the bedroom, he laid you down on the soft sheets, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. His eyes locked with yours, filled with the determination to make amends. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, as he smothered your face with kisses.

Your body responded to his touch, each kiss igniting a fire within you that hadn't been felt in what felt like forever. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. You moaned softly, the desire taking over your senses.

"You're mine now," Spencer growled, his voice low and filled with possessiveness. "You're going to belong to me, completely and utterly."

His lips found yours once more, his hands exploring every curve of your body. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, wanting him to know just how much you wanted him. The passion between you was palpable, electric.

"I'll never let you go, I promise," he whispered against your lips. "You're mine, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you know that."

His hands found the zip of your dress, and slowly pulled it down, revealing your trembling body beneath. Your heart was pounding, your breaths were shallow, as you looked into his eyes. He had a look of determination, a look that told you he was ready to make things right.

He continued to kiss you, his hands trailing down your arms, your waist, and finally to your hips. He lifted you slightly, and with one swift motion, your dress fell to the floor. You were standing there, naked, vulnerable, and exposed, but you knew that he wouldn't waste this moment.

He led you back to the bed, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with the promise to make it right. He lowered you onto the soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. His lips found yours in a fiery kiss, his hands roaming your body, caressing every inch of your skin.

You could feel your heart racing, your breath hitched in your throat, as you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. The moment where he would show you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to make things right.

His lips trailed down your neck, his hands gently caressing your skin, making you shiver in pleasure. You moaned softly, your body responding to his touch. He could feel the desire building between you, the electricity of your connection.

His hands worked their way down to your waist, his fingers trailing along your hips, down to your thighs. He gently spread your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the love and trust in his eyes, the desire to make it right.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, his breath warm and tantalizing. You arched your back slightly, inviting him closer, wanting him to explore every inch of you.

His tongue danced along your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses. You moaned softly, your breaths shallow, your heart pounding with anticipation. You could feel your body responding to his touch, the desire building within you.

He continued his exploration, his tongue delving deeper, his lips leaving kisses along your skin. You could feel your body trembling, your senses heightened, as his hands continued to explore your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to make you feel alive and desired.

His tongue found its way to your clit, his lips softly sucking and caressing it. Your breath hitched in your throat, your moans growing louder. You could feel your body building towards the edge, the desire and lust coursing through your veins.

He continued his ministrations, his hands exploring your body, his tongue delving deeper. You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity of your pleasure growing with each passing moment.

You arched your back even more, your body trembling with pleasure, as you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. The moment where he would show you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to make things right.

Your orgasm slammed into you like a wave, your body shaking uncontrollably, your pleasure reaching new heights. You cried out his name, your moans echoing throughout the room. He continued to please you, his tongue never leaving your most sensitive spot, as you soared towards your peak.

Your scream filled the air as you came, your body convulsing with pleasure. Spencer continued to pleasure you, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his tongue never leaving your clit. He was determined to make it up to you, to show you just how much he cared.

As your orgasm subsided, you could still feel the aftershocks reverberating through your body. You took a deep breath, turning to look at Spencer, who was still between your legs, his fingers gently wiping away the remnants of your release.

He wasn’t done though, he wanted to ensure that you knew just how much he loved you, how much he wanted to make things right. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, filled with a mix of love, desire, and determination.

Swiftly, he stood up, his gaze never leaving yours. He began to undress himself, revealing his toned body and hardness that had been growing throughout your passion. You could feel the desire building within you again, your heart racing at the thought of what he was about to do.

He climbed back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against you. You could feel the anticipation building within you, the desire and love between you both intense.

With a single motion, he entered you, his body fitting perfectly against yours. You gasped, your body responding to his touch. He began to move, his rhythm perfect, his movements slow and measured.

Your eyes locked onto his, the love and trust shining brightly between you. You could feel his determination, his need to make things right. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment where he would show you just how much he loved you.

He increased his pace, his body moving faster and harder. You moaned softly, your breath hitched in your throat, as the passion between you both intensified. Your body responded to his touch, every movement sending waves of pleasure through you.

His eyes never left yours, his love for you shining brightly in his gaze. You felt his determination, his need to make things right. The feeling of his body against yours was intoxicating, sending a wave of pleasure through your entire being.

Your breaths grew shallower, your moans growing louder. You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity of your pleasure growing with each passing moment. You arched your back, your body trembling with desire, as you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

His thrusts became more frenzied, his body trembling with the same desire that was pulsing through yours. You could feel the tension building within him, the need to reach the peak together. He knew that the only way to make it right was to share this moment with you, to feel the passion and love between you both.

With one final thrust, he collapsed onto you, his breath ragged, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. You cried his name, your body still shaking from the pleasure that had just washed over you.

He pulled out of you, his gaze never leaving yours. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment where he had made things right. His love and desire for you were clear in every touch, every kiss, every movement.

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bloodbruise · 1 month

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@jegulus-microfic | april 7: regret | 2,011 words | NSFW

sometimes your best friend's brother is so hot you just have to jerk off about it.

Fucked.

That’s what James was—completely and irrevocably fucked.

He couldn't claim ignorance; he'd seen it coming from a mile away. The change had been gradual, an ever-present whisper he failed to quiet. The subtle shift from looking at Regulus and seeing Sirius’ younger brother to looking at him and seeing Regulus. His continued presence at his and Sirius’ place had casual conversation turning into inside jokes, quips and jabs traded back and forth–James loved it when Regulus was a little mean to him. It turned into movie nights and visits at Regulus' job.

All of it was fuel to a slowly kindling fire.

So, really, he had no one else but himself to blame when he got burned. Scorched, actually.

It was a casual favor–helping Regulus move because Sirius had gotten held up at work. It was supposed to be nothing, just helping out a friend, something he would do for anyone in his life. Something he did without a second thought because that was James’ Thing. But, he really should have thought it through. Because watching Regulus, who was usually so impeccably composed, now disheveled and glistening with sweat, was an exercise in restraint. James’ mind was in a tailspin, fixated on lithe muscles moving beneath skin, flush from exertion high on his cheeks, messy hair pushed back and curls barely controlled by a headband.

James had been so normal about it all, truly, given the circumstances. Silently commending himself on his raw unadulterated strength for not jumping Regulus right then and there– he was playing it so cool. But everything teetered on the edge of collapse when Regulus, busy trying to put his couch back together, asked James to fetch the other screwdriver from the box beside his bed.

To James’ credit, there were a lot of boxes there, so he naturally went with the one closest to the headboard. And later, when Sirius chewed him out for wanting to fuck his younger brother, he would blame it on that fucking screwdriver. Because when he lifted the lid, the contents inside hit him like a physical blow. The room spun. He was going to fucking faint.

Inside the box was... Christ. It was overwhelming. Toys, lots of them, lined up all pretty and careless and innocent. Like they weren't going to kill him right on the spot. His eyes caught on the purple one, how thick it was. His mind oscillated between stupor, awe, and undeniable arousal, only snapped back to reality by Regulus' voice, muffled from down the hall.

“James? Did you find it?”

In a panic, he slammed the lid shut and scrambled for another box. “Uh-huh, yeah,” he called back, nodding to himself, still dazed. “Found it, found it.”

With the screwdriver finally in hand, James re-entered the living room, his cheeks flushed and a strained smile on his lips. He passed it over to Regulus and awkwardly clasped his hands in front of him, attempting to conceal the evident bulge in his pants. He had intended to stay, they had planned for dinner afterwards–Regulus’ treat for his help. But now, his thoughts were a vortex, endlessly spiraling around Regulus and those toys and–.

Voice too high and a little thready, he hastily blurted, “Okay, we got all the boxes, right? Yeah, okay, all set,” thumb jerking towards the door, “I forgot- I actually have to go, yeah.” Nodding to himself. He was aware that he probably looked insane, but staying was not an option. Not when every thought was a hazard. So he just stumbled through a weak excuse, pointedly ignoring the puzzled look on Regulus’ face, and rushed home. His grip flexing hard on the steering wheel and music blasting the entire time, because he was sure if he let his mind wander he would veer off the side of the road and crash his car.

It was only in the safety of his own room that he allowed himself to unravel. He twists the doorknob, pulling on it to ensure that it’s locked. His mind going straight back to that box, to Regulus, and his imagination runs.

Fully clothed, pants a mess–precum everywhere– he shoves them down. Just far enough so he can get a hand around himself, not even bothering to move to the bed. He knows the intimate details of what the inside of Regulus’ bedroom looks like. So there’s a crystal clear image that he can’t shake. Regulus, legs spread wide and fucking himself—his head thrown back, hips twitching up and opening so sweetly around a toy. There was something so erotic about the thought of Regulus coming home, maybe even from James’ place, and taking care of himself. Stuffing himself full until he was crying out and shaking with it.

Was it drawn out–slow? Did he take his time and open himself up with his fingers first? Or was he usually too worked up and eager to wait, just sinking down and reveling in the burn? Did he ever use a vibrator at the same time? It was delicious, the idea of Regulus being pleasure-drunk by his own hand. James knew if it was him, he would be insatiable, would force one more and another one please, baby out of Regulus until he was sobbing. James needed to see it, thought he might die without it.

A whimper rips from his throat at the mere thought of it– picturing himself at the foot of Regulus’ bed, content to just watch, to be so good for him. His movements become more frantic, hand working over himself faster. He pulls up his shirt and bites down on the fabric, head falling back against the door. In his mind, he wonders if Regulus would chide him for being bad, when James would finally break and scramble over to him. If he would let out a noise of protest when he pushes Regulus’ hand away and takes over, gripping the base and fucking him. He imagines how he would react when James crowds into his space, licking into his mouth and swallowing down his moans.

James is close when he thinks about Regulus’ eyes half shut and rolling back, body arching against him. How he would feel under his palm if he dragged it down the plane of his chest, if he raked his fingers through the hair under his belly button. Fuck. The thought of what it would feel like to touch between his legs, feel him wet and warm and dripping on his fingers. He’s almost there, movements getting more urgent. He starts circling his thumb over his sensitive tip with every upstroke. Has to grab at his own throat to ground himself, squeezing for just a little pressure because his body is feeling so good that it's floating up, up, up.

When James finally breaks, its with a weak, breathless, “ah- fuck R- Reg.” He makes a mess of himself. Back arching off the door, coming in ropes across his chest and dripping sloppily over his hand. He stays there for a while, slumped against the door, twitching with aftershocks. It’s only after his breath returns to its regular pattern that he moves, grimacing slightly as he sheds the rest of his clothes in a crumpled heap.

Nevermind the guilt of jerking off to his best friend’s brother, his own friend–his mind was reeling. James had convinced himself that it would help, to get it out of his system and be done with it. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn't possible. He knew that indulging himself would only pull him deeper into his spiral of obsession with Regulus. It was a little fucked up, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, a groan escaping him. The images and thoughts of Regulus were still there, but they were shifting. Had he ever used them on anyone else? What would it be like if he used them on James?

Against the mattress, James let out a heady moan. His forehead was slick with sweat, hair clinging to his skin. He found himself rocking hips involuntarily, pushing his spent cock into the bed. God, would Regulus top him? Fuck him with his strap and tell him he takes him so well. Oh, would he make him suck on it too? The overstimulation from the lack of respite was deliciously painful. He bit down on the sheets, grinding against them as he reached out clumsily and fumbled for the lube in the bedside table.

This second time was just as desperate. Lube in hand, James coated his fingers. So messy–glistening on his hand the same way he imagined it would look after pulling it from Regulus’ cunt. He drew his knees up under himself, breath picking up again and chest heaving against the mattress. His glasses askew and head turned to the side, he was looking back as best as he could at where his fingers were circling his hole.

He eased one finger in. He didn't feel nearly full enough but there's a slight burn– a reminder that he hasn’t done this in so long. He wishes Regulus were here to stroke his cheek, his neck. For him to press down on where James’ hand is inside of himself and tell him, “You can take more baby, I know you can. Need it, hm?”

James is gasping with the thought, mouth open and drooling a bit. He can’t bring himself to care though. He briefly pulls his finger out, swiping hastily at his stomach where his cum hasn't dried and mixing it with the lube before he’s pushing back in, another alongside it.

“Christ” he swears to himself. It’s a little clumsy, an awkward angle. His own fingers are a little too thick to move them fluently. He thinks it wouldn’t be like that with Regulus. In his mind, Regulus would work his fingers inside him with the same poise and deadly precision that he does everything else. He’d probably talk him through it too, breath hot against his ear as he teased James for being so needy, for wanting to be filled. It would have James on the edge in minutes, and that thought alone is so hot that James can't even feel shameful about it.

He shifts, pushing up on one arm and arches his back, so he can drive his fingers deeper. He slips in another finger. He’s so– so worked up, body so warm. Sweat beads on his neck, trailing down and pooling where his back curves. Both of his arms ache with the strain, but he’s too far gone to notice. Too caught up in the slide of his fingers, lost to the thought that even three of them were still not as thick as the purple toy in Regulus’ room. He’s pretty sure he’s making noise, he can't really tell though. Everything’s gone a bit fuzzy from the pleasure.

He knows he’s loud when he comes though. He finds the spot that has him going weak, almost buckling the arm that's holding him up. It’s overwhelming, he focuses on a few hard presses of his fingers right there and he's coming. A broken sob wracking his body as he gives into it, writhing against the feeling, ruining himself even more. He draws it out as long as he can, fingers moving relentlessly until his nerves sing with raw sensitivity. He slips them out before collapsing into the mattress, just breathing.

He can't help but laugh at himself-–thinks it's a little pathetic. That one accidental peek into a box has left him lying here, covered in his own sweat and spend. And yet, his mind is still running over the possibilities. A constant loop of Regulus and toys and straps. A low whine escapes him at the idea of going another round, his cock already twitching at the mere thought.

And through the haze of it all, the pleasure and the embarrassment and the Regulus, he can only make sense of one thing:

He is so utterly fucked.

#a part 2 is coming methinks #microbial genetics exam on tuesday... i havent reviewed any lectures but i did write this!#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #marauders #starchaser #marauders fanfic

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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months

Text

Stuck at a Christmas party (m) | pjm

*Part of ’the winter collection’.

Summary: It’s Seokjin’s Christmas party and you’re trying your best to be social with your friends, but it’s really hard when you feel the burning stare of your nemesis, Park Jimin, lighting your skin on fire. It doesn’t help when you feel his hand between your legs under the dinner table.

Pairing: Jimin x female reader AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. Word count: 5,1K Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 Warnings (explicit): exhibitionism, fingering, oral (male receiving), orgasm denial, cum eating, creampie, unprotected sex, choking (in a sexual context), degrading name calling (brat), hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Taglist: @yopjm

Author’s note: the snowstorm couple are back!!! 🥳 For reference, please think of GDA 2019 Jimin with his sleek black suit when reading this 🥵

ℹ️ This is part of ‘The Winter Collection: Stories with the Snowstorm Couple’, it can still be read as a stand-alone though!

I am going on a hiatus, but I wanted to post this before I left…

As you stand there, befuddled and speechless, you can't fathom how Seokjin deduced the intimate encounter between you and Jimin, your mortal enemy. The questions swirl in your mind—how, what, and why—leaving you utterly mystified.

Rage simmers within you, and you clench your hands into tight fists, resembling an enraged child ready to lash out. However, before you can unleash your fury, Jimin beats you to the punch with a nonchalant explanation, “We got cold.”

Your jaw drops once more as Jimin strolls past you and Seokjin, casually hanging his coat on the rack and discarding his shoes. He carries himself as though what transpired between you is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Seokjin's laughter, that annoying windshield wiper sound, echoes in the air. It grates on your nerves, and the urge to smack him for it intensifies. However, he ushers you inside, and with a frustrated sigh, you release your petty thoughts, letting your shoulders slump in resignation.

“Not a word to the others!” you hiss, jabbing your finger forcefully in Seokjin's face. It's crucial to drive the point home; the last thing you need is for the rest of your friends to find out. The mere thought of enduring their endless teasing is unbearable.

Seokjin mimics zipping his mouth shut with exaggerated hand gestures, and you shoot him a stern glare for good measure, silently urging him to grasp the gravity of your seriousness.

Seokjin accompanies you into the living room, where Jimin lounges on a couch, wearing that infuriatingly smug expression. Despite the lingering resentment, he acknowledges you with a subtle nod, licking his lips teasingly. A shiver snakes down your spine at the suggestive gesture, and you can't shake the feeling that this evening is destined to be nothing short of torturous.

The music pulses through the air, creating a lively atmosphere that encourages conversation with friends. Despite the chatter and laughter around you, there's an undeniable sensation of being watched. Your attempts to catch up with girlfriends are accompanied by the persistent feeling of a gaze, like smoldering embers, leaving your skin tingling with heat.

It's Jimin, his captivating dark brown eyes following your every move, setting you ablaze amidst the festive chaos.

Despite your best efforts to steer clear of him throughout the evening, the inevitable moment arrives when dinner is served. The grand table is a vision of Christmas elegance, adorned with festive ornaments and pristine white plates boasting delicate gold rims. As you approach, the once plentiful seats have dwindled, leaving only two vacant spots side by side. The realization hits you like a silent shock – everyone is settled in their places, except for one person: Park Jimin.

A smirk dances on Jimin's lips as your eyes lock, and with a gentlemanly flourish, he pulls out the chair for you. The attention of your friends is inevitably drawn to the unfolding scene, their curious glances making you squirm. You take your seat, feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze as he elegantly settles his perfect plump ass in the chair beside you.

Amidst the lingering stares and unspoken questions, you divert your attention to the spread before you, purposefully loading your plate with an array of delectable dishes. The clinking of cutlery becomes a welcome distraction, and for a brief moment, you find solace from the constant scrutiny of Jimin's eyes that have tracked your every move since you arrived.

Engulfed in the lively chatter around the table, you savor each bite while selectively tuning in to the diverse conversations unfolding. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of laughter weave a symphony that, for a moment, allows you to lose yourself in the festive atmosphere.

Your senses tingle as a warm sensation caresses your thigh, an unmistakable touch that sends a jolt of awareness through your entire being.

A rush of longing surges through you, an electric pulse that ignites every nerve, and without needing to glance down, you're keenly aware of Jimin's hand, a potent source of warmth, intimately tracing the contour of your thigh. As he gives it a firm, possessive squeeze, you close your eyes, surrendering to the tantalizing dance of desire that envelops you.

A relentless wave of need courses through you, the mere touch of Jimin's hand on your thigh igniting a fiery pool of arousal in your core. It's almost absurd, the intensity of your response—his hand, just on your thigh, and yet it feels as if the entire universe has conspired to stoke the flames of desire within you.

His attention remains fixed on the conversation with Namjoon, his eyes avoiding yours, but the impact of his touch on your thigh is impossible to ignore. The simple act of eating becomes an insurmountable challenge as his hand, like a brand, leaves an indelible mark on your senses. The silk of your dress offers little resistance to the searing heat emanating from his touch, rendering the task of composing yourself an elusive feat.

You grit your teeth, attempting to conceal your mounting frustration, and in a clandestine exchange of glances with Seokjin seated across from you, you're convinced he sees right through the charade. Damn it all.

Jimin's hands persist in their exploration, journeying beneath your dress and ascending higher on your thigh. A stifled gasp escapes your lips, your attempt to conceal the pleasure coursing through you as his fingers delicately trace the contours of your panties.

Your mind races as he inches perilously close to your core, your pussy pulsating with anticipation. Damn, the intensity of the sensation is overwhelming.

His apparent nonchalance fuels your frustration. How can he engage in casual conversation with Namjoon, seemingly unfazed, while his hand stealthily explores the contours of your thigh beneath the table? The audacity, especially in the midst of your friends, leaves you seething with a mix of desire and irritation.

His fingers delicately dance over the fabric that shields your pulsating core, sending a shiver down your spine. Conflicting desires surge within you – an undeniable craving for his touch and the hesitation born from the inappropriate setting, surrounded by the prying eyes of your friends.

With deliberate slowness, he trails his fingers along the edge of your panties, expertly sliding them to the side. A single finger ventures into your slick folds, and an involuntary exclamation of desire escapes your lips. Fuck!

Panic and pleasure collide within you as your body ignites with an uncontrollable fire. Fumbling for composure, you desperately try to conceal the intoxicating sensations Jimin's hand is orchestrating beneath the table. Casting a surreptitious glance at your friends, relief washes over you—it appears they remain oblivious to the clandestine dance Jimin is leading on your fevered skin. Thank god.

Your entire being tenses as an electric current courses through you, a silent struggle unfolding within as you grapple with the urge to control your escalating breaths, ensuring each intake is hushed and every gasp remains concealed.

Jimin's fingers expertly plunge in and out of you, a relentless rhythm that leaves you quivering in your seat. The addition of a second digit amplifies the sensations, intensifying the shivers that course through you. Fuck you, Park Jimin!

You shoot him an incredulous look, but he remains unfazed, deep in conversation with Namjoon as if his fingers aren't skillfully working their magic on you. Frustration bubbles within you, the tightening knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. Shit.

His fingers abandon your pulsating core, and just when you dare to hope for a reprieve, he redirects his attention to your swollen clit. Electric jolts course through your body, and an involuntary flinch escapes you, catching the curious gaze of your friends. The intensity of his touch threatens to betray the secrets you're desperately trying to keep under wraps.

“Are you okay?” Concern etches across Hoseok's face as he leans in, his voice laced with worry. His eyes search yours, dissecting the panic in your stare and the sudden gasp that escaped your lips.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you lift your chin and strive for confidence as you reply, “Y-yes.”

Even as the words leave your lips, their uncertainty rings in your ears, a desperate plea that he won't press for more answers.

The sensation of Jimin's fingers expertly tracing figure eights on your clit sends electric chills down your entire body. Your thighs clench involuntarily, and you find yourself biting your lip, desperately trying to stifle any sounds that might betray the pleasure coursing through you. It's a delicate dance between ecstasy and secrecy, his skilled touch weaving a spell that makes it increasingly difficult to maintain your composure.

As Jimin's fingers work their magic, your heart races, and the sensation is akin to running a marathon. A lone bead of sweat forms on your hairline, evidence of the intensity building within you. Fuck Jimin, unraveling you like this in front of your friends. The promise of payback simmers in your mind, determined to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.

As your breath quickens, the telltale signs of impending release manifest—quivering thighs betraying your desperation.

You're on the verge, yearning to pry Jimin's hand away from your pulsating core. The last thing you want is to climax in front of your friends; the situation is already precarious. Imagining their potential disgust only adds to the thrill.

The forbidden allure of the moment perplexes you—why does the idea of their judgment fuel your arousal?

Despite your futile attempts to swat his hand away, Jimin remains resolute, intensifying his efforts to push you over the edge. A determined glint in his eyes, he skillfully manipulates your senses. As he continues to stimulate your clit, a rush of liquid heralds your surrender, leaving you slumped against the table, your body succumbing to the waves of pleasure.

An electric surge courses through your body, causing every muscle to tighten, your clit pulsating beneath his expert touch. Desperately trying to collect yourself and avoid drawing attention, you navigate the fine line between pleasure and discretion.

Yoongi's concern cuts through the haze, and he observes, “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

A quiet, low moan escapes your lips, and in that moment, you become acutely aware of how disheveled and spent you must appear—fatigued and lost in a dazed gaze. Rising from your chair, Jimin's hand reluctantly withdraws from your core, and as your dress gracefully descends with your movement, you manage to murmur, “T-toilet,” your chest heaving with the lingering waves of lust.

In a frenzied hurry, you bolt into the bathroom, your hands gripping the edge of the sink, and you confront your disheveled, panting reflection in the mirror. It feels pathetic, the way Jimin effortlessly coaxed an orgasm from you under the table, using only his fingers. The realization hits hard – you are undeniably and thoroughly fucked.

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to steady yourself just as the bathroom door creaks open, heralding the impending return to the outside world.

As you gaze into the mirror, the source of your overwhelming frustration materializes before you: none other than Park Jimin.

You emit a hiss, a potent blend of frustration and arousal, as your eyes lock with his. Despite the turmoil, you can't deny the magnetic pull of his irresistible gaze, a look saturated with sin, his eyes half-lidded, and his tongue seductively gliding across his lips.

You sense your core clenching with a frustrating ache, an insistent reminder of desire for the infuriating man you both despise and secretly crave.

He teasingly presents his fingers to you, wiggling them suggestively as a sly grin plays on his lips, “You came.”

Your gaze locks onto him in utter disbelief—did he stroll around casually with your essence adorning his fingers?

“Suck them dry,” he commands, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the aftermath—your flushed cheeks and the deep rhythm of your breaths.

His words linger in the air, a challenge you're quick to accept. Without hesitation, you wrap your lips around his digits, tasting the remnants of your essence. His low groan reverberates as he watches you skillfully suck him dry, a silent dance of desire between you.

With each deliberate suck, you reclaim every trace of your essence from his fingers. When the task is accomplished, you fix him with an intense gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes, daring him to unleash the pent-up desire that simmers between you.

“Can’t stop thinking about me?”

Your gaze locks with his, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you bat your lashes, feigning a sense of dominion you both know is illusory. He meets your challenge with a smug smirk, dragging his tongue over his lips, and in that moment, the taste of him floods your senses, a lingering memory that refuses to be forgotten.

You want more so you decide to match Jimin's honesty with your own vulnerability. As the words escape your lips, confessing, 'I can't get you out of my head either,' a gust of candid truth hangs in the air. The charged atmosphere between you two becomes palpable, an electric tension that leaves you yearning, your desperation laid bare.

With a sultry whisper, you proposition him, your voice dripping with desire. Your eyes linger provocatively on the pronounced bulge in his pants as you suggest, “I can suck you off. It’s the least I can do.”

He skillfully unbuckles his belt, swiftly unzips his pants, and sensually lowers both his trousers and underwear, unveiling his throbbing, substantial dick that eagerly springs forth.

Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, the lingering taste of him still fresh in your memory, and an undeniable yearning builds within you, an insatiable desire to descend upon him just as you did in the heated confines of the car a mere few hours ago.

He strides purposefully toward the toilet, ceremoniously lowering the seat, and with a provocative gesture, positions himself on it, legs enticingly spread, an open invitation for you to draw near and indulge in the feast of his dick.

You swiftly descend to your knees on the welcoming warmth of Seokjin's floor, grateful for the cozy indulgence of heated tiles. Running your tongue across your lips, you seize his throbbing cock with a determined hand, evoking a hiss of pleasure from his lips.

“Fuck! I missed you.”

“It's only been a few hours, Jimin,” you chuckle before enveloping his pulsating dick in your saliva-coated warmth. He fills your mouth perfectly, and you establish a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious anticipation in the air.

You skillfully handle what can't fit in your mouth, teasing with your hand. Jimin throws his head back, emitting a delicious moan in response to your artistry. Sucking him off with an intensity that borders on desperation, you flatten your tongue and expertly play with his frenulum, eliciting a hiss and soft moan from him.

With a firm grip on your hair, he tugs at your ponytail once more. Drool drips from your mouth as you glide over his cock, expertly hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His fingers tighten in your hair, urging you further. Breathing in and out through your nose, you navigate down to his pubic hairs, humming sensually around his dick. The subtle shiver you feel from him fills you with a sense of pride, knowing the impact you're having on him.

“Fuck. You’re so good,” he moans, pulling your hair tighter in his grip, the raw desire in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Shit, I’m close already,” he gasps, his voice breathy with anticipation, and you can sense the pulsating urgency of his cock in your mouth, signaling that he's on the brink of release.

Unexpectedly, you withdraw from his throbbing cock, leaving him suspended on the precipice of release. His eyes widen in disbelief, watching as you sensually lick your lips, a spark of mischief and fiery playfulness dancing in your gaze.

“Brat. Finish what you started!”

His demand hangs in the air, laden with urgency, but you defiantly shake your head, a smug smirk playing on your lips. In this tantalizing game of desire, you've decided to level the playing field, returning the favor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

With a sly smirk stretching across your face, you assertively declare, “No.” Your lustful desire is unmistakable as you deliberately pull away, leaving him hanging. “You made me come in front of our friends, embarrassing me. So now,” you add with determined confidence, “you don't get to come.”

As you swing the door open, you exit, leaving him in the bathroom, his fully erect dick on full display, a silent challenge echoing in the air.

“Fucking brat!” His voice reverberates through the air, a raw and frustrated yell, trailing after you as you make your exit.

A mischievous laughter escapes your lips, an odd mix of satisfaction and empowerment swirling within you. Striding back to the table with your friends, you effortlessly dive back into the conversation, as if leaving Jimin high and dry is just another casual move in your repertoire.

There's a subtle thrill in knowing that maybe, just maybe, you've imparted a lesson on not messing with you.

After a few minutes, Jimin saunters back to the table, and you can't help but notice the lingering outline of his arousal beneath his pants. Apparently, he didn't tend to his needs as you assumed he would. The intrigue in the air grows thicker, adding a layer of curiosity to the already charged atmosphere.

The remainder of the evening unfolds without any further advances from Jimin, and despite the undeniable tension in the air, you manage to restrain yourself, keeping your hands to yourself. The pulsating undercurrent of arousal lingers, fueled solely by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence.

Dinner concludes, and after lending a hand with the cleanup, the music swells to an even higher volume, enticing people to the dance floor. Amid the lively atmosphere, you join in the dance with your girlfriends, playfully swaying your hips to the rhythm. The pulsating energy is infectious, but beneath the neon lights and thumping beats, you sense Jimin's intense gaze fixed on yours once more.

Sensations of arousal ignite within you, yearning for a more intimate connection that goes beyond the pulsating dance floor. Amidst the crowd, you feel a magnetic pull, a desire for his crotch to be the one you're grinding against. However, such an encounter isn't suitable in the presence of your friends. Suddenly, Jimin materializes on the dance floor, seizing your hand and drawing you into a close embrace. His warm breath grazes your ear as he utters, “Come with me, brat.”

He pulls you away from the pulsating crowd of friends, a flicker of distress in your eyes, yet a clandestine thrill seeping through your veins. The covert glances from your friends affirm that they caught the provocative scene. With determination, he leads you into a secluded room, the door securing your privacy with a decisive click.

His eyes blaze with an inferno of lust, an intensity that borders on fury. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze, and he licks his lips with a hunger that suggests he's poised to consume you whole.

“Some nerve you have,” he begins, a low growl in his voice as he presses you backward, drawing you closer to a waiting bed, its presence dawning on you like an ominous realization.

Nervousness courses through your body, a relentless tide, as he exerts control over you with the sheer dominance of his presence.

“Leaving me like that, you fucking brat,” he hisses, forcefully pushing you down onto the bed.

Despite your nerves, a chuckle escapes your lips, “Well, I think it was only fair.”

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, the air thick with anticipation.

“Fuck. What do you do to me?” he murmurs, diving in to kiss your lips. Your hands instinctively find his cheeks, and you melt into the soft, plush sensation of his mouth, lost in the intoxicating dance of his lips.

Instantly, your body relaxes, and you wrap your legs around his waist, provocatively pressing your core against his erect dick, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him.

“I could say the same to you,” you pant, “and I don't even like you. I don't understand,” you murmur between kisses, grappling with the conflicting emotions that the intensity of the moment brings.

“But I want you. Damn it, I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confess with a breathless mixture of desire and urgency, punctuating your words with a daring roll of your hips, leaving no room for ambiguity about your craving for him.

“Fuck.”

He unbuckles his belt with a purpose, the metallic clink resonating with the promise of what's to come. Swiftly, he unzips his pants and skillfully lowers them along with his underwear, gracefully joining you on the bed with a hunger in his eyes.

His arousal is evident, his dick appearing more heated and flushed than ever. The crimson hue tells a tale of the desire he harbors, heightened by your previous act of leaving him hanging and hungry for more.

“You’re such a brat. I’ll fuck you senseless.” His voice, a sultry promise, sends shivers down your spine. With a self-assured stroke of his dick, he spreads your legs, deftly teasing your underwear aside.

Hovering above you, his breath dances on your skin as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m going to shut that pretty mouth of yours up.”

Your body quivers in response as he deftly lifts your legs over his shoulders. In this moment, he appears both commanding and delicate, a paradox you can't help but be drawn to. As your moans escape, his eyes light up, as if you hold the key to his universe. Yet, the bitter truth remains—you are enemies, drowning in mutual hatred despite the intensity of the desire that binds you.

His fingers dance over your sensitive folds, ensuring the cascade of wetness that engulfs you. You're a river in anticipation, and he chuckles, pulling back a glistening digit to savor your essence. His words, whispered with satisfaction, echo in the room, “You taste so good.”

You moan, your body craving his touch, and impatiently inquire, “What's the hold up?”' as you yearn for him to fulfill his promise to ravish you.

In the dim light, he chuckles down at you, gripping his hard dick once more and skillfully aligning it with your eager entrance. The head of his cock nudges your folds, eliciting a desperate mewl of pleasure from your lips. Despite the intense disdain you harbor for him, all you crave now is to feel him deep inside you.

With a powerful thrust, he impales you on his dick, plunging deep into your core with reckless abandon. A primal scream of his name tears from your throat, echoing in the room, encapsulating the sheer intensity of the moment. “Fuck, Jimin!”

His grin turns wicked, a hint of danger in his eyes, as he accelerates, showing no mercy and denying you any chance to acclimate. Every powerful thrust widens and fulfills you in the most exquisite way, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Though mere hours have passed, the yearning for his dick consumes your thoughts. The magnetic pull of his desire leaves your mind shrouded in dangerous fantasies that dance provocatively through the corridors of your consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

Moans of pleasure escape his lips, breathless and raw, as he utters your name in a fevered whisper. Holding your legs aloft, he thrusts into you, skillfully navigating the depths, each movement a calculated dance that hits your soft spot with precision, sending ripples of ecstasy through your body.

His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, a heady mix of musk that clouds your mind. The rhythmic dance of his tie brushing against your dress on your tummy mirrors the cadence of his thrusts.

Amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure, you find yourself caught in a paradox of conflicting emotions. “Fuck, Jimin. I hate you. I don't understand,” you blabber, your words intertwining with the rhythmic surges of arousal coursing through your body. With each relentless thrust, the coil in your stomach tightens, weaving a complex tapestry of desire and disdain.

“I do,” he utters, punctuating his words with a forceful thrust that reverberates through your core, causing a symphony of sensations to cascade through your body.

“You like me, that's why,” he pants, each powerful thrust resonating through your pussy, an electrifying dance of pleasure and desire. It's a truth you're reluctant to acknowledge, and as your heart races, you turn your head away, unable to meet his intense gaze, even as your body betrays your feelings.

“No, no, you look at me while I fuck you, brat,” he seethes with anger. He presses himself down on you, your legs parting to rest on the sides of his arms. His hands find their way around your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he maintains the fast pace of his hard thrusts. The intensity in his eyes matches the fervor of the moment, a collision of passion and dominance that leaves you breathless.

He forces you to turn your head toward him, and the grip on your throat tightens even more. “Just admit that you like me, brat,” he demands, his voice a potent blend of authority and desire, making your heart race as you navigate the thin line between resistance and surrender.

Your mind swirls in a hazy mist, a product of his presence or the firm grip around your neck — it's hard to discern. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there's an undeniable thrill that courses through you, a strange liking for the intoxicating blend of dominance and desire.

Released from his grasp, you inhale desperately, your breaths echoing the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions within. With the tightening coil in your stomach, you reluctantly admit, “Fine... I don't hate you.”

His hands reclaim your throat, a firm grip that mingles pleasure and restraint, synchronized with the rhythmic precision of his thrusts hitting every exquisite spot within you. “That's not good enough, brat,” he growls, his control both intoxicating and exhilarating.

“I know you like me, because your body tells me so,”

“I know you like it when I choke you, because you clench so much around me when I do,”

“Your body can’t lie, brat.”

Holy fuck. He’s right. At least in some parts. Your mind is a tempest of desire, clouded with thoughts of him, and suddenly you’re screaming, the sound muffled by his firm hands around your throat. Your body spasms uncontrollably, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing around his pulsating dick.

“Fuck. Yeah, cream my dick, brat.” he maintains his relentless thrusts, your orgasm surging through you like a wild storm, leaving you with a symphony of sensations and a loud ringing sound in your ears.

His hands finally release their grip on your neck, and you find yourself panting for air, gasping his name with a mixture of desperation and lust, “J-Jimin, fuck.”

“You’re doing so good. Even if you behave like a brat. Fuck. I’m so close.”

And then his thrusts become erratic and even more frantic, as he desperately seeks his own climax.

“Fuck, Jimin, just like that!” you scream as he relentlessly targets your sweet spot, igniting the familiar coil in your stomach once more. Fuck.

Jimin seems to sense your escalating pleasure, and one of his hands skillfully finds your clit, circling it with a tantalizing touch that nearly makes you scream. “Shit!”

He skillfully pinches your clit, and suddenly, you see stars—you're gone. Squirts of your release gush out, painting his pubic hairs, and Jimin gazes down at you. You thrash around the bed, frantically breathing, your muscles tightening as your vision becomes a canvas of small, white dots.

“Damn. You just squirted all over me,” he breathes in a soft voice, a hint of adoration laced within. However, you can't really decipher his tone as you're lost in the moment, your ears ringing again.

“Damn, that's hot,” he exclaims and thrusts into you again, releasing his warm load inside you with a scream of your name.

He continues to thrust into your core, the rhythm slowing down to a more sensual pace. Your body feels dazed and sweaty, the dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, the satin now undoubtedly soaked through.

You gasp for air, still catching your breath. “Fucking hell, that was amazing, Jimin.” He chuckles, offering you a gentle smile that quickly transforms into his trademark smirk.

His laughter dances through the air, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we can totally do this again,” he says, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You can't help but roll your eyes, though deep down, the idea doesn't seem entirely unwelcome. Keeping a sense of mystery, you respond with a playful glint in your eyes, “Maybe.” The rebellion in your spirit mirrors the dance of sparks between you, a familiar game of push and pull that seems destined to continue.

“Brat.”

He chuckles, yet defies the teasing nickname by bending down to kiss you; it’s sweet and tender, a stark contrast to how he just fucked your brains out.

You cast a dismayed gaze at your drenched dress, muttering, “I can't go out in this,” and you groan, feeling the uncomfortable cling of the fabric to your skin, an unwelcome sensation adding to the aftermath of your heated encounter.

“How about we raid Seokjin’s closet?” he suggests, winking with a playful lift of his brows and a light chuckle.

“Is this Seokjin’s room? Did we just fuck on his bed? Damn, he’s going to be furious!” You burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. “No way! Imagine if everyone finds out we fucked.” You shriek, wildly waving your hands in the air, the possibility suddenly sinking in.

“Why are you so hell-bent on keeping it a secret?” he asks, genuinely curious, a playful glint in his eyes as he chuckles at your distress.

“Because you're my sworn enemy,” you state matter-of-factly, giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you sure about that?” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky demeanor once again.

“And I think they already know,” he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes your irritated expression. You groan into your hands, grappling with the realization that he might be right. However, you're determined to cling to any shred of hope you can find.

“We'll just stay up here until my dress is dry,” you declare, as if it's the most brilliant plan you can conjure. Jimin chuckles, his gaze lingering over your heaving form with a hunger that ignites a spark of desire. He licks his lips, suggesting, “Then take it off. That way, it'll dry faster, and we can go for round two in a moment.”

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thatdammchickennugget · 27 days

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Love Is Embarrassing - Part Eight

>> when are all my excuses of learning my lessons gonna start to feel sad? <<

pairing - theodore nott x fem! reader

summary - when you agree to help Theo out with a bet, you learn that maybe the bad boy isn't actually that bad

warnings - a little angsty, jealous!theo, mention of y/n

wordcount - 3.7k

a/n - okay, I finally managed to finish this last chapter. thank you so much to everyone who is still reading and commenting, even though it took me months to wrap this up. I love and appreciate you 💕

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The fluorescent lights of the grocery store cast a bright glow over the aisles, illuminating the colorful array of products lining the shelves. Theo strolled through the store, while you sat in the cart, snacks and essentials piled high around you.

The grocery store aisles became their battleground as they playfully bantered over the best candy for their movie night. With each turn down a new aisle, the debate intensified. Theo's arguments for the tangy delight of sour candies clashed with your unwavering devotion to the sweet satisfaction of chocolate.

Your banter echoed through the grocery store aisles, drawing amused glances from other shoppers. You grinned mischievously from your perch in the cart, throwing playful jabs at Theo's taste in candy while he retaliated with mock indignation.

As you rounded the corner into the snack aisle, a familiar voice called out, interrupting your lively debate. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Y/n!"

You turned to see a young man standing before you, a wide smile spread across his face. He was tall and lanky, with tousled red hair that seemed to defy gravity, and a pair of bright blue eyes that sparkled with warmth and familiarity. It took you a moment to recognise who was talking to you. He was someone you used to go to school with, a friendly face from your hometown that you hadn't seen in years. You remembered his mother used to be friends with yours and wondered if they still talked.

"Jake! Wow, it's been forever," you exclaimed, genuinely pleased to see him.

Theo's expression shifted imperceptibly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he observed the exchange between you and Jake. He remained silent, pushing the cart forward as you engaged in conversation with your old friend.

"Hey, yeah, it really has," Jake replied with a grin, his eyes scanning over Theo before returning to you. "Looks like you've got some company."

You nodded, gesturing toward the tall boy behind you. "Yeah, this is Theo. He's a friend from college. We’re visiting for the holidays."

"Nice to meet you, Theo," Jake said, extending a hand.

Theo shook it with a polite smile, though you couldn't help but notice the slight tensing of his jaw. "Likewise."

"So, what brings you guys to the grocery store?" Jake asked, falling into step beside the cart as you continued down the aisle.

"We're stocking up for a movie night," you explained, reaching for a bag of popcorn on the shelf. "Trying to decide on the best snacks."

Jake chuckled. "Ah, the eternal struggle. Sweet or savory?"

"Exactly," you agreed. "We've been debating it all afternoon."

"Well, if you ask me, you can't go wrong with a good mix of both," Jake suggested, grabbing a bag of chips from the shelf. "Cover all your bases, you know?"

You laughed, nodding in agreement as you took the bag from his hands, stashing down at your feet. "That's true."

As you caught up with Jake, sharing stories and reminiscing about the past, Theo's demeanor became increasingly guarded. He made casual remarks, joining in the conversation, but there was a subtle tension in his voice that betrayed his unease.

You couldn't help but notice the shift in Theo's demeanor, sensing the underlying tension beneath his attempts to appear unaffected. Despite his efforts to hide it, his jealousy simmered just beneath the surface, evident in the way he subtly tightened his grip on the cart handle. You assumed he was growing tired of being in the store and wanted to go home.

"So, Y/n, it's been ages since we hung out," Jake said, his tone filled with enthusiasm as he glanced between you and Theo. "Mind if I crash your movie night?"

You hesitated, exchanging a quick glance with Theo before responding. "Uh, well, my mom wouldn't really be a fan of that...Danny hasn’t been feeling well and she doesn’t really want the house to be even fuller, you know."

Theo's grip on the cart tightened slightly, a subtle indication of his discomfort with the idea. You could sense his unease, and while you didn't want to upset him, you also didn't want to leave Jake hanging. "But we should definitely catch up sometime this week," you continued, offering Jake a friendly smile. "How about we grab coffee or something?"

Jake's expression brightened at the suggestion, seemingly unfazed by the rejection of the movie night invitation. "That sounds great! I'll shoot you a text and we'll figure out a time."

"Sounds like a plan," you agreed, relieved that Jake was understanding.

Jake bid you farewell with a friendly wave before heading off to finish his own shopping. As he disappeared around the corner, you turned your attention back to Theo, who had fallen unusually quiet. "Hey, you okay?" you asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

Theo shrugged, his gaze fixed on the items lining the shelves. "Yeah, just tired, I guess."

You frowned, not entirely convinced by his response. "Are you sure? You seemed a little... off back there."

He forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, really. Let's just finish up here and head home."

Deciding not to press the issue further for now, you nodded, though a sense of unease lingered in the back of your mind. Theo's sudden change in demeanor had caught you off guard, and while you wanted to believe his explanation, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was bothering him.

●・○・●・○・●

Later that night, as you settled in for movie night, the tension between you and Theo remained palpable. He had taken a seat next to Danny, much to your little brother's excitement, leaving you to occupy the spot on the other side of the couch. You tried to brush off the unease gnawing at you, attributing it to Theo's earlier mood and hoping that he would warm up as the evening progressed.

Throughout the movie, Theo seemed distant, his attention focused solely on the screen. You caught glimpses of his profile in the dim glow of the television, his features drawn and unreadable. Despite your attempts to engage him in conversation or share a joke, he remained reserved, his responses curt and unenthusiastic.

As the movie played on, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly strained. You stole glances at Theo, hoping for some sign that he was feeling better, but he remained aloof, his gaze fixed on the screen.

"That girl reminds me so much of Pansy," you reached around Danny and nudged him gently, trying to draw him into the moment.

He offered a half-hearted chuckle in response, but his eyes never left the television. Your heart sank further at his lack of engagement, the distance between you feeling more pronounced than ever.

When your mom suggested playing a game after the movie, you saw an opportunity to break the tension. "That sounds like fun, doesn't it?" you glanced over at Theo, hoping for a spark of enthusiasm.

But he shook his head, his expression apologetic. "I think I'm gonna call it a night, actually. I'm feeling pretty tired."

Disappointment washed over you as you watched him stand up and make his way towards the stairs. "Oh, okay. Well, goodnight, then," you forced a smile, trying to hide the hurt in your voice.

"Night," Theo replied softly, his tone devoid of its usual warmth as he disappeared upstairs.

After the game ended, you made your way upstairs, feeling a heavy weight in your chest. The events of the evening lingered in your mind, leaving you with a sense of unease that refused to dissipate.

Entering your room, you found Theo already lying in bed, his back turned towards you. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Quietly, you slipped under the covers, careful not to disturb him. Tentatively, you reached out to him, your fingers lightly brushing against his back as they had the night before.

To your surprise, he recoiled at your touch, pushing your hand away before shifting further away from you. The rejection stung, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through your chest as you withdrew your hand, feeling the distance between you grow even wider.

Heart heavy with disappointment and confusion, you lay there in silence. Eventually, exhaustion overtook you, and you drifted off to sleep, the ache of unspoken words weighing heavily on your mind.

●・○・●・○・●

The next morning, you awoke to find Theo's side of the bed empty, a cold reminder of the distance that had grown between you overnight. Pushing aside the covers, you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach.

Descending the stairs, you followed the sound of soft conversation to the living room, where you found Theo seated beside your mother, a smile gracing his features as they engaged in lively conversation. Your mother sat in her favorite armchair, her knitting needles in her hands, while Theo held the yarn for her, his expression one of genuine warmth.

You stood there for a moment, watching the scene unfold before you, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over you. Confusion battled with longing, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the easy camaraderie between Theo and your mother. You couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly acting so cold towards you, all of it reminding you of those last weeks you shared with Grady.

As you observed them, a sudden realization dawned upon you, crystal clear and undeniable. It hit you with the force of a revelation, leaving you breathless and reeling. In that moment, you understood the depth of your feelings for Theo, the profound connection that had blossomed between you, unnoticed and unspoken.

You had fallen for him, deeply and irrevocably, in a way you had never imagined possible. The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you as you grappled with the newfound truth.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, you barely noticed your mother's gaze turning toward you, her warm smile inviting you to join them. You hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether you were ready to face Theo right now.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she greeted you, her voice soft and comforting. "Come join us."

With a small nod, you crossed the room to take a seat beside Theo, trying to ignore the chasm of distance that seemed to have grown between you overnight. His smile faltered slightly as you approached, and the view felt like a kick to your stomach.

"Morning," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced at the boy beside you, searching for any sign of the warmth that had usually filled his gaze when looking at you.

He met your eyes briefly before turning his attention back to your mother, his smile returning, albeit slightly forced. "Morning, trouble."

Despite the tension lingering in the air, your mother seemed oblivious to it. She continued to chat animatedly, her happy voice filling the room.

As the conversation lulled, you seized the opportunity to broach the subject of spending the day together. "Hey, do you want to do anything today?" you asked tentatively, nudging the side of his leg with yours.

He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Actually, I'll be pretty busy today," he replied, his tone carefully neutral. "Your mom and I have been talking about some things she's been procrastinating on fixing around the house, and I promised her I'd do some of it today."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at his response, though you tried to mask it with a supportive smile. "That's sweet of you," you said softly. "Do you need any help?"

He shook his head, his gaze flickering briefly to meet yours. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather do it alone," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You swallowed back the hurt that threatened to rise in your throat, forcing a smile as you nodded in understanding. "Okay, just let me know if you change your mind," you replied, though the words felt hollow on your tongue.

Sitting there, the realization of your feelings for him weighing heavily on your mind, you found yourself contemplating your next move. Your mind drifted back to Jake and the casual invitation you had extended to catch up over coffee.

With Theo occupied for the day, the prospect of spending time with an old friend seemed more appealing than ever.Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you scrolled through your contacts until you found Jake's number. With a hesitant finger hovering over the screen, you debated whether to send the text.

"Since you're going to be busy today, I might text Jake and see if he wants to hang out. Is that okay?"

Theo's expression shifted slightly, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes before he shook his head. "Yeah, that sounds fine.”

You sighed inwardly, feeling a twinge of disappointment at Theo's response, but you nodded, trying to hide any trace of your feelings. "Alright, I'll let you get to it then," you said, forcing a smile.

Walking back upstairs and entering your room, you sank onto the edge of the bed, the familiar comfort of the space offering little solace. Resting your head in your hands, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, the realization of your feelings for Theo crashing over you like a tidal wave.

●・○・●・○・●

As you stepped into the quiet house, the familiar creak of the front door seemed to echo in the silence. The subdued atmosphere enveloped you like a heavy blanket, casting a pall over your spirits as you made your way to the kitchen.

There, you found Theo sitting alone at the table, a steaming mug of hot chocolate cradled in his hands. The soft glow of the overhead light illuminated his features, casting shadows across his face that seemed to deepen the lines of tension etched there.

"Hey," you greeted him softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room.

He looked up, his gaze meeting yours briefly before flicking away. "Hey," he replied, his tone guarded.

Sensing the tension in the air, you hesitated for a moment before taking a seat opposite him at the table. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

Finally, unable to bear the weight of the silence any longer, you spoke up. "I just got back from hanging out with Jake," you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the undercurrent of unease.

Theo's grip on his mug tightened slightly, though he maintained his composure. "Oh, did you have fun?" he asked, his words laced with a hint of passive-aggression.

You bristled at the tone of his question, sensing the underlying tension beneath his seemingly casual inquiry. "Yeah, it was nice," you replied carefully, not wanting to escalate the situation.

Theo's lips twitched into a tight smile, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil swirling within him. "Good to know," he muttered, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

The atmosphere in the kitchen grew increasingly strained. You wanted to reach out to him, to bridge the gap between you, but you didn't know where to begin. As you tried to come up with something else to say, your body froze when you heard him scoff.

The noise cut through the tense silence like a knife, leaving you feeling like you'd been slapped. The suddenness of it startled you, and you couldn't help but recoil slightly, a mixture of confusion and hurt flashing across your features.

"What?" you demanded, your voice sharper than intended as you searched his face for any hint of an explanation.

Theo hesitated, his gaze darting away from yours as if seeking refuge in the shadows of the room. "Nothing," he muttered, his tone defensive. "Forget it."

But you couldn't forget it, couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong between you. "No, I won't forget it," you insisted, your voice rising with each word as you stood up from your chair to round the table. "You've been acting weird since yesterday, and I don’t know what happened. Tell me what's going on, Theo."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might refuse to answer. But then, with a heavy sigh, he relented, his words dripping with frustration. "Fine, you want to know what's going on? I'll tell you. I'm tired of this."

Theo's words hung in the air like a heavy cloud. You stood there, staring at him, waiting for him to continue, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Tired of what?" you prompted, your voice barely above a whisper, though it carried the weight of a thousand unanswered questions.

His gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw the storm raging behind his eyes. "Tired of pretending," he replied, his voice low and filled with bitterness. "Tired of pretending that you're mine when you're not."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with disbelief. "What do you mean?" you demanded, your voice rising in pitch as you struggled to comprehend his words.

Theo stood up from his chair, his movements tense and controlled. "You know exactly what I mean," he shot back, his frustration boiling over into anger. "You keep stringing me along, making me think that there's something between us when there's not."

His accusations cut deep, slicing through the fragile facade of your relationship and leaving you exposed and vulnerable. "That's not fair," you protested, your voice trembling. "I've never tried to lead you on, Theo. I care about you more than anything."

"Then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you keep going from being all over me when we’re alone to introducing me as your ‘friend’" he countered, his voice rising with each word as he took a step closer to you, his eyes burning with intensity. "Why do you keep pretending like there's nothing between us when we both know that's not true?"

"I'm not pretending," you insisted, your voice cracking as you met his gaze head-on. "I'm just... scared."

Theo's expression softened slightly at your words, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "Scared of what?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

"Scared of losing you," you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "Scared of ruining what we have because I'm too afraid to admit how much you mean to me."

Theo's anger seemed to evaporate in an instant, replaced by a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. "I'm scared too," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to take your hand in his. "Scared of letting you go because I'm too afraid to admit that I love you."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you and Theo stood there, locked in each other's gaze, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air between you. The tension that had once divided you now seemed to dissolve, leaving only the raw vulnerability of your shared emotions.

Without a word, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around Theo in a tight embrace. He responded eagerly, pulling you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

"I love you," you whispered against his chest, the words spilling forth from your heart without hesitation.

Theo pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "I love you too," he replied, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and longing.

Without another word, Theo cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch tender and reassuring. His thumbs brushed lightly against your cheeks, tracing the curve of your jawline as if committing every detail of your face to memory. You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands against your skin.

Drawing you closer, Theo's arms enveloped you, pulling you flush against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in the space between you.

With a gentle tilt of his head, Theo closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up emotions, all the longing, and all the unspoken words that had lingered between you.

As the kiss deepened, you melted into Theo's embrace, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. His arms tightened around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

Lost in the sweetness of the moment, you felt as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Every brush of Theo's lips against yours sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned with an intensity you had never known.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you found yourselves lost in each other's gaze once more, jumping at the sound of a voice clearing behind you, bringing you back out of your stupor.

Turning around, you found your mother standing in the doorway, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she observed the scene before her, the tension that had filled the room moments ago now replaced with an air of affection.

"I've been wondering when you two would finally make it official," she teased, her voice filled with amusement.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you couldn't help but smile at her playful tone. "Alright, let me do this right this time," you said, gesturing to the boy beside you. "Mom, this is Theo. My boyfriend."

Your mother's smirk widened into a knowing grin as she glanced between you and Theo. "Well, it's about time," she chuckled. With a final wink in your direction, she turned and retreated from the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone again.

You turned back to Theo, a sense of warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, was that better?" you joked, a hint of relief in your voice.

Theo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his hands found your waist again. "Perfect.” With a playful grin, he pulled you into another sweet kiss.

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wen-kexing-apologist · 8 months

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Explosions

EPISODE 6 OF ONLY FRIENDS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD! Seriously it was just fight after fight after fight, every relationship being shifted, undermined, or blown up in minutes and it was glorious. I think a good summary for this episode is “It’s always the quiet ones”

If you want the TL;DR version of any of these, you can check out @lurkingshan’s much more cohesive, succinct description of each fight, and the winner.

Sand v. Top

Something that I truly and deeply appreciate about Only Friends is how much they are really committing to letting these boys act their motherfucking ages. We would think that Sand is a more responsible, independent person out of necessity, that he has his life together more, that he is more mature. After all, like we said last week, Boston came in to his home, smoked his weed, and fucked with his relationship and Sand took the high road (so we thought) of shutting his goddamn mouth and not airing Boston and Top’s dirty laundry.

But damn if this boy ain’t twenty, petty, and fueled by rage at even the smallest sight of Top’s face.

Sand goes to the Coffee House and orders a Pink Milk (now, pink milk/pink drink is a pretty old BL trope if I understand correctly, and so imo it is a testament to Sand’s character and his expectations of romance that he would order such a drink, and a statement on Jojo and Ninew’s part that the coffee house does not have milk and therefore cannot deliver the drink of BL romance everywhere.) Top appears, ordering his drinks, and we get a blessed side eye from Sand full of incredulity, barely contained disdain, and annoyance.

GOD I WANT THEM TO BE HALF-BROTHERS SO BAD! Anyway…

Top does give a rather amicable hello, and initiates a casual, emotionless conversation. But of course, Sand hates this motherfuckers’ guts for stealing his ex, and Sand knows exactly what and how Top thinks of him, so that protective snark we saw when Sand initially started engaging with Rich-Boy-Ray, returns.

Top, on the other hand, thinks nothing of Sand, not that he hates him, not that he likes him, but fully that Sand is nothing. Sand is poor, Sand is struggling, Sand is nowhere close to competition for him. Top is precisely the kind of asshole that uses subtle jibes and jabs to chip away at people who understand what he is doing. Sand fucking hates this guy, so it is easy beyond measure to get Sand going.

Especially because, we know that Sand knows about Top and Boston, and we know that Boston poked the bear the other night and fucked with Sand’s feelings about Ray. Top needles, and Sand inches closer to showing his hand ‘Mew seems nice. How unlucky of him to have you as his boyfriend’

And the perfect boyfriend mask that Top has been so successfully adorning drops “I can have anyone I want…I got mine now. I hope you get yours”

(I am putting this screenshot in here because I find it really interesting from a visual storytelling/cinematography perspective that Sand is cast in Top’s shadow.)

And get his Sand will, because the first thing Sand does when he gets home is break the shit out of his phone so hard that Nick asks if he went to war. He “borrows” Nick’s phone to “call his Mom” promptly sending himself the audio file of Boston and Top having sex. (Pro Tip: If you are going to audio record two guys having sex, maybe don’t tell a goddamn soul you have it unless you are ready for that information to come to light.)

Some questions I have here: why did Sand ask about if Nick was still seeing Boston? Why does Sand seem chill with Nick and Boston still hanging out together after Boston just went full douchebag all over his apartment.

(My assumption/my theory here, which I am not really thinking has any basis in reality is that Sand is looking to see if Nick is still hanging out with Boston after Boston blew up the fantasy relationship he had with Ray. As if he was figuring out if it was worth it to throw Nick in to the mix when he is making the decision to ignite the stick of dynamite that is everyone’s relationships to one another.)

Then he meets with Ray at the bar.

“Are you mad at me for that night?”

“Why would I be mad? Who you like is your business” Sand says, like a liar, and I am almost entirely certain that Ray knows this is a lie. Because he was with Sand the night Boston went off and he heard those crack’s in Sand’s voice.

Something that I absolutely love about Ray as a character is that he is so completely unable to control his facial expressions. Whatever he is thinking or feeling is on his face the second that the emotion enters his body. You can see it in the fight scene with Boston in episode 5, how quickly Ray’s face shifts from crossfaded, relaxed, and smiley to focused, tense, and angry. So his reaction to Sand’s response is no surprise. Ray smirks, and looks away from Sand.

“You called me here to play pool?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you…about Mew,” Sand is looking straight at Ray at this point, and I don’t know about y’all but it feels to me like Sand is assessing Ray’s reaction. There is a MASSIVE pause from Ray at this point, a large bout of silence, and VERY slow, calculated motion as he brings himself to a (drunken) upright position.

“What? Are you not okay that I like him?”

A deep inhale from Sand, and then a smile “I am okay. I even get why you like him. He is nice. People around can’t help falling for him.” Sand is priming his trap, weaponizing Ray’s feelings for Mew.

So here is the thing with Ray. Ray is both an open book and a man of direct action, part of this may just be his personality, but part of this is that Ray is constantly under the influence, and with altered mental status, it is going to both be harder to control your outward emotional expression and you are going to get escalated more quickly. Ray has an extremely low tolerance for bullshit, and in some capacities that is a negative thing (ex: 80% of the actions Ray does after his conversation with Sand in the pool hall), but it can sometimes be a positive thing, because it allows Ray to cut to the chase. To try to skirt around whatever mind games Sand is trying to play: “Just say what you mean”.

Sand sends Ray the audio recording, “I didn’t know who to tell, so I told you” Sand says, turning his attention to the pool table.

This is a crucial move, because Sand is not making eye contact with Ray. Sand is toying with Ray, he is trying to seem disinterested in Ray, in their conversation, unaffected by the other night, casual in his relationship to Ray, casual in the massive invasion of privacy that he just handed to Ray, unphased by the ammunition he has just loaded in to the loose cannon.

“I just don’t want a good guy like Mew to get fooled by Top. Mew is lucky though…

“To have you by his side”

Sand knows exactly what he is doing. He knows Ray likes Mew, and he knows Ray has a tendency to get riled up. Sand may not fully anticipate just how much he is setting Ray up to get hurt here, but he for fucking sure knows he is priming a weapon. If you ask me, Sand is placing the idea in Ray’s head to bring this information to Mew, to reveal the truth and break Mew and Top up so that Top loses the relationship that he just rubbed in Sand’s face, with minimal effort and suspicion that Sand was behind any of it. Which is why Sand looks up from the pool table as he says this line, because he’s studying Ray to see if Ray is picking up what Sand is putting down, and as we will see later, Sand has successfully planted the seed.

Ray is easy, Ray takes the bait, Ray immediately goes firing off in every direction he can. That boy waits, what? Probably one day before he runs straight to Boston to give him a piece of his mind.

Ray v. Boston

There are too many phenomenal scenes in Episode 6 to pick a favorite, but I do think this is one of the best scenes that we’ve seen for Boston so far. By which I mean that we get a lot of information about Boston’s character from the way he navigates this conversation with Ray. We saw his proclivity for douchebaggery in Episode 5, and we’ve seen his propensity for fear when he is almost caught by Mew in the showers with Top. But we haven’t really seen these two aspects of Boston’s character interacting with each other, or at least not as strongly.

Ray comes storming in to Boston’s home immediately riled up and cussing him out, calling him all sorts of names asking if he is going to do nasty shit to all of his friends, and of course, Boston at this point has no idea that the recording exists (and he is just a major asshole) so he is legitimately very confused about what Ray could possibly be talking about.

“You hooked up with Top!” Ray shouts, and there is a look of genuine fear in Boston’s eyes. No one was around that he knew about or saw when he hooked up with Top that night, no one should have known that happened. Boston already has one recorded gay sex event hanging over his head as potential blackmail (thanks Gap), and now he is faced with the realization that there may be evidence of a second gay sex event.

Boston cares about his father’s reputation. Boston is not out to his father. Boston is probably far less discrete and careful than he should be, but I do think it is fair for him to assume that people aren’t going to record his sexual encounters with them without his consent. (I want to take a pause here just to say that I think I guessed right about some of the reasoning for Boston’s behavior especially in the earlier episodes has to do with his inability to be out.) This scene is where we get the longest continuous exposure to Boston’s fear. He is scared when Ray says he knows about him and Top, he is scared when he asks who told Ray, at this point you would think Ray would be the victor of this fight, but the second that Ray brings Mew in to the conversation?

Boston puts a mask on, and he smiles, because he has found a way to protect himself, and that is to use Ray’s weak spot (his crush on Mew) against him. To turn the tides in his favor, to manipulate Ray’s feelings, Ray’s attachment to Mew, Ray’s love of Mew in to staying quiet about his hook up with Top.

“So? Top and I screwed even before they started dating. Is it so weird to screw again? I just wanted more. Then I let them love each other all they want. Everyone has a happy ending. Everyone is filled.”

I am fascinated here by Boston’s comment “I let them love each other all they want”. As if he personally has control over Top and Mew’s feelings for each other, as if he didn’t violate Mew’s ability to trust Top whenever, if ever that information comes to light. (Secondarily, Boston chooses some truly masterful double entendres here “happy ending”, “everyone filled”).

Ray continues on his shouting spree, asking Boston how he could do that to a friend, and we see the aloof and unbothered mask slip off once again, in favor of an actual plea to be listened to. “Hear me out, okay? I don’t hate Mew at all. I was just needy. The timing was just wrong” Now, while I don’t believe Boston about Mew and about the timing because we know he only started going after Top when Top started showing greater interest in Mew, and didn’t just nail and bail. But, I don’t think Boston is entirely lying to Ray here about being needy. One thing I do wish this show had more time for is establishing the past relationship between Boston and Ray before they get to this point. When Ray says later on in the episode that Boston tells him all about his sexual conquests, is that just something he says to Ray or is that something he tells the whole group when he is recounting his previous nights? This matters only in the sense of me feeling more secure in how much, if any, of what Boston is saying to Ray is true.

“Timing, my ass. The point is your slutty ass just sleeps with anyone.” Ray says, and Boston looks down at the ground, draws in a breath, and then meets Ray with this cocky, teasing smirk and the line “Not just anyone. I picked him.”

Ray wants to see Boston as a villain, so Boston will be one. Boston is generally a contradictory asshole, but in my opinion if he wasn’t faking some of this confidence and prodding at Ray, he would not have needed prep time, we would have seen that sincerity drop, the way we saw Top’s sincerity drop in his conversation with Sand. Instead, Boston has to prepare himself to act this way, though he is able to slip in to this part of himself with ease. Also, I have no deep insights in to this, because I am simply just obsessed with the little shoulder shrug Boston gives Ray. Spitting in his face would have been less disrespectful than the way Boston shrugs off Ray’s comment about him being a slut. (Once again I say Neo Trai is absolutely crushing this role).

Boston asks how Ray is involved (a great question, because it is literally none of Ray’s business) and then goes in for the kill with his acknowledgement of Ray’s crush, and the underlying dickishness Boston knows (or thinks he knows) is there. “You’re playing a good friend who is always so protective of Mew. Honestly, I think you are glad that it happened. You’ve always waited for your chance. This is in your favor. You’re waiting for them to break up and be his rebound when he is weak.”

I don’t know that it really needs to be called out directly, but I am going to do it anyway. What Boston just said to Ray’s face is exactly what Sand was thinking, and alluding to when he gave Ray that recording. You cannot convince me otherwise. But Sand was subtle in how he put those thoughts in Ray’s head, so he is successful in getting Ray appropriately riled up. Boston too, is successful in riling up Ray by being direct with him, but Boston gets punched in the face and makes Ray even angrier at him than he was before.

“If you tell him, then you’re as evil as me. Don’t act like you mean well when deep down you hope they will break up. It’s disgusting!” He stands up, and stalks right up to Ray’s face.

“You should even thank me big time for getting you out of the friendzone.”

Regardless of the fact that Boston is not yet aware of the recording of him and Top, he is acutely aware that he needs to protect himself from this information getting out. So again, he hones in on Ray’s weakness. Boston compares Ray to himself, to the person that Ray is absolutely furious with. He plays to Ray’s own insecurities and to Ray’s need to be seen as a good person and viable partner for Mew. Ray loves his friends, Ray loves Mew, Ray does not want to hurt Mew, if Ray tells Mew about Top cheating on him Mew will be hurt, if Mew rebounds with Ray after he and Top break up that makes Boston right about Ray’s intentions, that makes Ray evil. That is the implication here. And, just in case trying to convince Ray that if he tells Mew about the cheating then he is just as evil as the person who literally got fucked by Top, Boston throws in a little bit extra. Ray should be grateful. Ray should thank Boston. Boston’s shitty actions here, Boston’s betrayal of his friendship with Mew, have cleared the way for Ray to play the hero. Ray shouldn’t tell Mew any of this because he owes Boston. Ray came charging in to Boston’s own home, with a leg up in the conversation, and showed his hand, allowing Boston to exploit Ray’s feelings and gain the upper hand. In one expert fell swoop, Boston has upset Ray enough for him to storm off and is feeling pretty confident and secure in the knowledge that Ray will not say anything to Mew.

Ray v. Everyone

By the time Ray gets to Mew’s birthday party he has been ignored, insulted, manipulated, and belittled constantly by almost every single person that says they care about him. Cheum has laughed at his love life, Sand used Ray to further his own agenda, Boston has thoroughly fucked with Ray’s life in a number of ways, and even Mew is harsher than usual to Ray when they run in to eachother in the bathroom and Mew tells Ray to stop doing drugs or he’ll be dead by 30.

Ray loves Mew, Ray has been told over and over again by Mew that he only sees Ray as a friend, and there in the bathroom, Mew once again says “let’s be friends forever”. At this point, Mew has made it pretty fucking clear that he is never going to date Ray, and all of Ray’s friends have been shitty to him, and he is also drunk AND high, so for me it would track that Ray has literally nothing to lose by being honest. Every relationship Ray has, someone has fucked with. Top tries to get Mew on his side in his hatred of Ray, Sand put his barriers back up to protect his own feelings when Boston mentioned Ray’s crush on Mew, Ray fucked himself over with Mew by kissing him when he was asleep, Cheum points out Ray’s lack of love life and otherwise pretty much ignores Ray. So it also tracks for me that Ray would try to get back at everyone by fucking with their relationships.

Ray pulls a Top and gets up on stage to steal Sand’s microphone and make a public declaration, something that we as the audience should already know Mew does not like, because he said as much to Top after Top publicly asked Mew to be his boyfriend. Sand, bless him, tries to put a stop to this immediately by asking Ray what he is doing, but not to be deterred, and using the guise of Mew’s birthday he takes control of the microphone and the entire bar’s attention. Before I go too much in to the actual roast session, I would recommend everyone who has seen Episode 6 go back to this scene and watch how Book plays Mew in this scene. Every single moment (until Mew gets mad that is) that Mew is on screen, he looks forlorn. But in the chaos of the bar scene, the quick cuts to all the couples dancing it can be hard to notice, especially if we weren’t looking out for it. This whole scene is set up spectacularly as foreshadowing for Mew’s revenge at the end of the episode, and if you pay close enough attention highlights the huge problems in Mew and Top’s relationship. Mew is upset, Mew is visibly upset, and Top is standing right there next to Mew the entire time. Top is dancing with Mew, Top is putting himself between Mew and Ray. Mew and Top are inches from each other during this entire scene and Top does not notice or ask about Mew’s mood shift once. Because Top has never truly been attentive to Mew’s feelings.

Anyway, Mew lays waste to Cheum, Boston, and Nick before Sand recognizes this is going nowhere good fast, and once again tries to put a stop to it.

Ray has been ignored by too many people, Ray has been fucked with for too long for him to just let everything go and leave. And remember, he is drunk and high on cocaine so he is not de-escalating any time soon, and no one in that bar is at all equipped to change his focus and calm him down. Sand gets involved, but Sand is the cause of all of this mess because he gave Ray the information, and Ray will not be silenced, so he tries to insult Sand. “You don’t even want to be a singer, you just want to make money. If you want it so much, why don’t you sleep with me?”

AND SORRY, I KNOW THAT I SHOULD REALLY BE TALKING ABOUT THE TOP, BOSTON, MEW OF IT ALL BUT I FUCKING LOVE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS LINE.

Because we know that Ray has offered to pay Sand for sex before, and we know that Ray has asked Sand how much he owed for their “one night stand”, only to have Sand on every occasion, reject the money. Sand has said that if he wants sex, he does it for free. Literally from the moment that Sand realized that he had some sort of positive feelings for Ray, and agreed to be his friend, he has not accepted a single bhat from Ray. But in front of all of these people, Ray is implying that Sand is a sex worker. In front of Boston, who has walked in on Ray and Sand making out, and in front of Nick who has interrupted Ray and Sand in the middle of something physically intimate on more than one occasion, Ray has just made it seem to them like Sand has been paid to cater to Ray’s every whim, in front of people that know Sand well.

We love and respect sex workers in this house, but Ray? Ray is not saying this because he thinks sex work is okay. Ray is saying this because he thinks calling someone a prostitute (in a sense) is insulting, and that is not helped by the fact that they are in public and therefore Ray is subjecting Sand to public scrutiny over him potentially being a sex worker. And in associating Sand with sex work, in associating sex with Ray as sex work, Ray is undermining the validity of any and all time that Sand and Ray have hung out together, and is highlighting his status as a higher class than Sand.

Ray turns to Mew, showering praise and gratitude and well wishes upon him, and telling Mew “though that happiness doesn’t include me, I’m okay,” and Mew does not react in any way that is comforting, he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t nod. He just stands there, staring at Ray, and by my impression trying not to cry. And God, what I wouldn’t give to see Boston’s reaction to this moment, because we do not get to see him at all during this moment, and I want to know how confident Boston was feeling that Ray wouldn’t say anything about his affair with Top when Ray is acknowledging that he knows that Mew will never return his feelings.

I don’t know about you all, but personally, I believe Ray here. I think Ray has been rejected enough by Mew, and fucked up his relationship enough with Mew that he does just need to affirm to Mew that he understands what he has done, and that he understands that Mew will only ever think about him as a friend, and that Ray is there to support Mew in whatever he decides to do with the information, we as the audience do not know Mew already has.

Ray turns his ire on Top, shouting at the top of his lungs, insulting Top, shoving Top, generally causing a scene and we finally get a glimpse of Boston, but he’s blurred out in the background, so while his face is unreadable, we get some indication of Boston’s emotional state by that fact that he is tuned the fuck in to everything going on, because the only thing we can read from Boston is that he is staring directly at Top. Ray continues to escalate, and Yo finally steps in, but she allows Ray to continue after a moment, which is like…girl, come on, where is the responsible bar owner?

Ray starts shoving Top, Mew tries to step in, Top grabs Mew around the shoulder and jerks him back like he owns Mew. And because there are very few people in this world that take Ray seriously at all, Cheum tries to get involved. Reminding Ray that Mew is not gonna fuck him (I mean, that’s not exactly what she said but same shit) which Ray knows. I think, personally, that Ray is fully aware that there is a chance that he has completely ruined his relationship with Mew by valuing Mew enough to tell him the truth. That he has made himself as evil as Boston by telling Mew anything at all.

I’ve said it before, I will say it again, Ray is one of the biggest open books in this show because of his substance use. We saw very early in the episode when the hotel management group was talking with their professor every single emotion, every single thought that Ray was

experiencing. From nearly the beginning of the show, we have seen Ray ignored or belittled by most of his friends, as someone who loves and has worked with drug users, I have to say that Jojo and co are doing an incredible job at demonstrating all the little ways that people discount, discredit, and dehumanize drug users. All of his friends, Boston, Cheum, and especially Mew think they are better than Ray because he uses drugs. We see it in the bathroom, right before the Ray-mpage, Mew realizing Ray has just done drugs, and then telling his suicidal friend that he would be dead before 30 if he keeps this behavior up.

So of course Ray wants all these truths to come to light. Of course Ray has to be the one to do it. Because how dare all of these people stand around, pretending to be friendly to one another, pretending to care about one another, acting like they are all good people, when they are all manipulating, and controlling, and lying to each other. No one in this bar is better than Ray, even though they think they are.

“No one has said a damn thing, which is why I need to” Ray shouts and then immediately turns to Boston. And as he continues to get riled up, as he gets closer to publicly revealing Top’s infidelity, Mew steps in, and it takes Mew punching Ray in the face to get him to shut the fuck up and preserve the image of clueless Mew.

Ray storms off and Sand goes running after him because he is the only person with some goddamn sense, realizing that Ray is going to endanger himself and others. They have their fight, which for the sake of space and time I am not going to talk about.

Mew v. Top

We reach a decompression point (so we think) after this fight, Sand quietly driving off after Ray, Nick reaching out to and having his comforting touch be rejected by Boston, Mew and Top walking back in to Mew’s apartment, with Mew only speaking when he is spoken to.

Now, this cannot be convey through photographs alone, but I JUST NEED TO SHOUT TO THE HIGH HEAVENS ABOUT HOW FUCKING OBSESSED AND IN LOVE I AM WITH THE BACKGROUND MUSIC IN THIS SCENE.

Besties, the vibes are RANCID. The music does not match the romantic scene we see Mew setting up, the lit candles, the supposed playlist he is putting on, the cuddling up to Top. The music we get underneath belongs in a horror movie. It’s suspenseful, it’s disconcerting. It is perfect.

As soon as humanly possible Mew walks away from Top, enters a completely different room, and begins to lay his trap.

(Let it be stated for the record it was at this point where I started to think something might be up)

Top comes in to check on Mew and make sure he is alright, and as Book and Force have said, Top and Mew are competitive and poisonous for one another, and we are about to witness the perfect example of what happens with both of their propensities for control and manipulation come to a head. Mew starts the game, initiating physical contact with Top, hugging him tight, rocking them back and forth. It is familiar, and comfortable, and there is absolutely no indication whatsoever from Mew’s body language that anything is wrong. (If you have not already, go back and watch the bar fight scene, and you will be presented with a drastically different Mew, because he is just gotten the news and he is processing his feeling and plotting his revenge, so he is a lot less capable of controlling the emotions on his face, and thus reads as detached and forlorn).

“Are you okay, Mew?” Top asks because he is at this point playing the role of devoted and concerned boyfriend extremely well (again a massive contrast to how he behaved at the bar, where he was possessive, reactive, and did not notice that anything was wrong with Mew despite being mere inches away from him).

“I just wonder when Ray will be okay with you,” Mew responds, pulling away from Top to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to choose.”

And what a great buy-in. Top hates Ray, Ray hates Top. Mew is perceptive and has been in the room on multiple occasions to see Top and Ray butting heads. Beyond the fact Ray went off on everyone at the bar, and it’s a relevant topic of conversation, Mew knows what he is doing bringing Ray in to his conversation with Top.

Because Ray could have said “I’m okay”, he could have brushed the evening off, or said he wasn’t good, or bitched about Ray’s tendencies to ruin an evening with too much drinking. But he doesn’t mention any of that. He doesn’t attack Ray’s character, he doesn’t gripe about Ray’s actions. Mew explicitly brings up Ray’s feelings about Top.

Giving Top a very good jumping off point for his own attempts at manipulation.

“Why are you still friends with him?” Top asks. Undermining Mew’s previous line “I don’t want to choose.” Mew has literally just said that he wants to maintain his friendship with Ray and his relationship with Top, and implied that it is troubling him that the two of them cannot get along. That Ray cannot get along with Top.

And instead of Top being sympathetic to that desire for Mew to get to keep two people he cares about in his life. Top tries to convince Mew to dump Ray altogether (which would further isolate Mew from his friends since Cheum really only seems to care about Mew’s sex life and Boston has intentionally been undermining Mew and Top’s relationship since it’s start).

This is not the first time that Top has tried to get what he wanted with just a question or suggestion. We can say all we want that LASIK was Mew’s idea, but Top suggested it first before he said something akin to “you know what, nevermind, you look cute in your nerd glasses”. He may have walked back his suggestion but it cannot be denied that he planted that seed.

And planting a seed of doubt, of insecurity, of impatience with Ray’s behavior in to Mew’s mind is what I think Top is trying to do here. But Mew knows something Top doesn’t and where Mew may have started contemplating whether or not he actually does want to maintain a friendship with Ray, he is immune from that doubt seeping in in this case because he knows that Top is a dirty rotten liar.

“I want to repay you,” Mew says a little bit further along in their conversation. “I don’t want you to forget about tonight.” (lmfao Mew, he definitely will not)

“It’s the birthday that I feel the most special.” and by God is Mew really laying it on thick.

“Even though Ray ruined your night” Top can’t help but get a dig in, to remind Mew that Ray was a shitty friend on Mew’s birthday, to casually drop more evidence that Mew should pull away from his friendship with Ray.

“Screw him. I have you by my side, there’s nothing to be afraid of” Mew is stoking Top’s ego, he’s lulling Top in to a false sense of security. Top has no idea what he is in for, he has no idea that Mew is playing games. Mew is doing such a thoroughly expert job with his performance he may even be annoying the audience, making them think that he didn’t connect the dots between Ray yelling at Top and Boston, and think that something might be wrong.

Top thanks Mew for making him like this version of himself, and to me this does make sense. There is this hollowness in the way I read Top and Mew’s entire relationship throughout the series. But I don’t doubt that some part of Top is interested in Mew. I have typically understood Mew and Top’s relationship to be an experiment from Top’s end to see what it would feel like to stop sleeping around.I think Top does genuinely enjoy at least part of his relationship with Mew, likes playing this role of doting boyfriend, but he is just playing. It is a performance. A skin he can shed the second he is out of Mew’s view.

“Can I ask you one more gift?” Mew says, turning to face Top and without another word starts undressing him. Mew shoves Top on to the bed and starts kissing up his body (I shit you not I was shocked and literally said out loud, alone in my apartment “Damn, Book!”). This is not the first time that we have seen Mew raise the stakes of a physical encounter. From the beginning of their relationship, Mew has been entirely in control of if and when he and Top have sex. He holds on to that power, to his virginity for quite some time, but waffles in his confidence and power within the relationship by engaging in penetrative sex with Top because he is worried Top will be bored.

This is the most intense, down and dirty level of physical intimacy we have ever seen from Top and Mew (and the same goes for Force and Book finally getting to step away from the slow and gentle sex scenes of shows past). Mew gets Top going, Mew gets Top in the zone, in the mood. Mew gets Top feeling good, moaning, before he drops the bomb.

“I love the sound you make when you have sex” and this is where the tide begins to turn, where the audience may well and truly begin to pick up what Mew is putting down. But Top just thinks it’s hot. Top is playing along. Top wants to know what sounds he makes that Mew enjoys. This is a much different physical encounter than anything he has had from Mew before, and while Mew is once again leveraging physical intimacy to control Top, something he has been doing since their first sexual encounter. Though there is an intensity and surety to Mew’s actions here that feels markedly different than his other sexual interactions with Top where his movements were slower and less certain.

“What sound?” Top asks, and oh boy has he just fucked himself over with this question. It is exactly the question Mew is hoping Top will ask. The perfect question for Mew’s pissed off, hurt, and dramatic ass to play the audio recording.

And GOD DAMN TOP’S FUCKING REACTION? The fear and panic that enters his eyes, the speed and intentionality in the way Mew pushes himself off of Top.

Top’s fear and shock and awe lasts for mere seconds as he pulls himself upright at which point Force delivers one of my favorite lines in the entire exchange, “how did you get it?”

Why is it one of my favorite? Because it acknowledges that Top knows that this audio recording exists. But it is said in passing, and asked as a question in such a way that Mew, who is about to actually let his emotions loose, might not actually realize the implications of the question.

Because this is not Top asking “what is this?”, “where did this come from?”, “did you record me?” you know, the type of standard questions someone faced with an audio recording of them having sex might ask if they had never heard the audio recording before. But no, Top isn’t surprised to find out that he has been recorded. He is only scared and concerned about the fact that Mew got the recording from someone.

“How long ago was it?” Mew asks, and Top tries to equivocate “Mew, it was a long time ago,” as if Top thinks that he can what, brush off this audio recording? Dude. If Mew wasn’t busy trying not to slap you in the face, he would have noticed the practical admission of guilt you gave by nature of asking how he got the audio recording, you know he knows, why bother trying to lie? Mew does not let himself get convinced otherwise, and continues to press Top about whether or not he and Boston had fucked after he and Mew started dating and Top cannot look Mew in the eye until the very end of Mew’s line of questioning. And Top stays dead silent until Mew has asked him where and when he and Boston fucked, at which point he knows there is no getting out of this and he admits the truth.

I don’t have much to say as of yet about the line Mew says “why did I have to know about this shit the day I’ve already loved you and given you everything?” mostly because I actually have a whole essay floating around in my brain that I am desperate to write for this show, but I do not have enough evidence to justify it yet, so I am waiting patiently for if the opportunity presents itself. But irrespective of that, there is an implication here that Mew held some level of possessiveness over his virginity and in having sex with Top committed to his relationship with Top. Mew is the kind of person that seems to think virginity has weight to it, and it is something to lose, something that can be lost.

Now. If Mew had stopped here and just broken up with Top, he would have won the day. But unfortunately, Mew is a human character with thoughts, feelings, and imperfections that are going to undermine his best efforts to be a diabolical schemer. (Something that I very much appreciate about this show is that every single person in the show has moments of utter genius that grant them the upper hand and a brief win. But no one is so impressive as to pull off a flawless victory or maintain their champion status for long).

So unfortunately, we start getting insight in to Mew that we have not really had before, when he starts spiraling over Top and Boston hooking up. Mew, who has up until this point felt very secure in his inexperience with sex. And there have been signs of deeper insecurities popping up, namely that Mew had penetrative sex with Top to keep him interested in their relationship. “Why did it have to be Boston?” (who Mew called to ask for sex advice), “Couldn’t it have been anyone else?” Top looks guilty when Mew asks these questions, but that quickly changes as Mew’s spiral worsens “You guys planned this together?” Top’s head whips up to meet Mew’s eyes, he postures, he shifts his weight, he inhales a breath as if he is preparing to speak, and his face changes to a perfect picture of disagreement at the accusation. “You just wanted to mess with a virgin idiot like me?” Top actually tries to interrupt Mew’s spiral here, to calm Mew’s suspicions of malice against him.

It is at this point Mew has his Boss Ass Bitch card revoked on the grounds of undermining the absolutely devastating and badass power play he just flawlessly pulled off by creating this fantasy in his head about big bad evil Top and Boston laughing at his inexperience. Especially because (and this is not to blame Mew at all) part of what drove Top to fuck Boston was Mew’s competitive nature and his desire to prove Top really wanted a relationship with him by withholding sex for an extremely long time. It was not Mew’s inexperience, but rather his virtue signaling and tight hold on having his first time that resulted in Boston’s successful attempt at convincing Top that Mew was lying to him about being a virgin.

“Mew, you made that all up in your head, it’s nothing like that,”

“Well, what am I supposed to think when I can’t trust any word you say?” Mew turns away, only to be quickly embraced by Top. Both of them quiet, upset, and the episode ends with the future of their relationship uncertain.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #wka long post #only friends meta #only friends analysis #sorry if this is repetitive either in the text or to other things being posted on tumblr this week #i know there was a lot of good meta floating around and i promise you that everything i wrote here is my own thoughts #sandray #firstkhao #bostonnick #neomark #topmew #forcebook #jojo tichakorn #ninew pinya

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impishjesters · 5 months

Text

Denture Daddy

CW// implied unspecific sexual relationships, dom/sub talk, use of the word "daddy" and "mommy" in a non-parental form, mentioned hate sex note(s): basically the reader and Jibba (my TADC oc) playing a dumb game of who seems like a dom or sub to pass the time. Jibba can be seen as a bit of a "whore" but he wears it proudly. Rhett (who's mentioned) is another of my TADC ocs. A/N: This whole thing happened all because I wanted to say "denture daddy". I don't expect anyone to give a shit about this. But at the end of the day as long as my friend and I enjoy it, that's all that matters.

Conversations with Jibba was like a game of Russian roulette. You never knew what direction or topic would come up.

Sometimes the conversations were casual, asking how you were doing or if anything fun had happened. But then you’d get conversations about a tiered ranking of who was considered good in bed, only to get whiplash by a simple conversation on whether you were a dog or cat person.

It was a wild ride, to say the least, which is how you got roped into a conversation about your fellow circus captives and whether they fell into dom or sub-category—for shits and giggles that is.

“‘m just sayin’, ya look at Jax ‘n think he’s got this whole sadistic face to ‘im and it turns out he’s just as touch starved as he looks,” Jibba stated.

Right, they were sleeping together—something about hate fucking because of their prank war or some shit. Neither of them was very subtle about their pranks or their “hate sex” because if that was hate sex you hated to see what tamed sex was like.

Bunch of emotionally constipated idiots.

Jibba jabbed you with his elbow playfully, getting your attention back on him. “Thoughts on Kinger?”

“Definitely not a dom, in fact, it feels wrong to think about him even having sex.” You shuddered. Kinger felt too much like your dad, and thinking of your parent’s boinking was enough to make you wanna bleach your eyes.

He shrugged and crossed his arms before leaning his chest against your back. “Yea’ it’s like watchin’ ya gramparents be romantic an mushy.”

“Ugh,” you gagged, “why’d you have to make it worse? I was thinking of my dad at least.”

“Oo, you thinkin’ bout ya dad playing twista? Naughty, naughty.” he teased, shooting you a playful smirk.

You elbowed him hard, basking in the pained noise that left him. “You know damn well what I meant.”

Jibba groaned and rubbed his side, you had a mean right elbow. “Yea’ yeah, alright so what ‘bout Rhett?”

“Eye Daddy? Oh, yeah. Total dom, but like not like in that rough way—”

“—but in like a total control way? Oh yeah, ya don’t know how hard I’ve been tryin’ to crack that nut—metaphorically and literally.” Jibba scoffed and used your head as an armrest, staring out at the others doing one of Caine’s dumb lil games.

“Are you just making rounds to everyone?” You didn’t shame Jibba for his sex escapades, if anything good on him for finding some way to tame Jax’s awful behaviour.

“Only the hot ones.” You looked up at him despite his arm on your head and he sent you a wink. “I’ll get to ya in no time, less ya wanna jump the list then we can go find somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, not right now.” As entertaining as the thought was, you were quite relaxed just hanging out with the ridiculous man. Though it would be a tempting endeavor at a later time. “So, Ragatha?”

“Mm,” Jibba leaned back, taking most of his weight off of you but kept his arm in place. “She gives like, soft mommy vibes.” he waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “Though I feel like she has a lot of parental experiences if she’s been havin’ ta live with Jax for god knows how long.” He paused, eyes squinting in Ragatha’s direction. “I’d let her give me a good stern talk’ ta.”

“I’ll give you a stern talkin’ ta, if you don’t calm yourself.”

“Babe, this whole conversation is about who’s a dom and who’s not, how do ya expect me to keep calm?” he joked. You raised your arm again with a silent threat to elbow him and he swallowed. “Yeah, okay, calming down.”

“Pomni?”

The two of you fell silent, staring over at the anxious woman who was struggling to get out of Jax’s reach.

“Anxious chihuahua.” Both of you stated at the same time.

Jibba laughed that awful eerie death rattle of his. Did a toy like him really exist? God that was horrifying, who buys that for children? You knew he could control it but why did he have to do it now of all times?

He caught you staring and grinned. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Right, this is Jibba we’re talking about, he knows it’s creepy and did it intentionally. Bastard.

“No,” you rolled your eyes and looked back to Pomni. “She’s too anxious, poor woman probably has a hard time holding someone’s hand let alone sex. Though I’d rather not think about her sex life… feels wrong.”

“Oh, and thinkin’ ‘bout mine ain’t?”

You gave him a deadpan stare as to say ‘Really, that’s what you wanna ask?’. He cleared his throat and mumbled a little ‘touche’ before looking back at the others.

“Oo, I know a good one,” he snickered. “Caine.”

“Caine?” Well, at least he wasn’t asking you about Bubble.

For whatever unknown reason, at the mention of his name Caine appeared a few feet from the two of you with a loud pop. “Diiiid somebody say Caine?”

Jibba shook his head, seemed even with a lack of ears the loud pop affected him. You shook your own head, rubbing an ear. “Uh, not directly.”

Caine cocked his head in confusion, clearly not understanding you were simply talking about him—not trying to summon him. “I see. Well, while I’m here. Why aren’t you two participating?” he asked, waggling his fingers in the direction of the others.

“We’re playin’ our own game,” Jibba answered, giving you a playful nudge.

“Oh?” Caine floated closer, eyeing the lanky doll.

“Yea’, the game of dom or sub.”

Caine cocked his head again. “I don’t understand.”

Jibba snickered and you couldn’t help but cover up your own laugh with a grunt. “What he mean’s is—”

“Oh no, he’s like one of those tops with golden retriever vibes that when ya call ‘em daddy like yer sayin’ ‘good boy’ they get excited.” He covers his face, a genuine laugh instead of that death rattle laugh.

The look of confusion never leaves Caine’s face but you can’t help but join Jibba in his laughter, because he’s not wrong. You could say a lot of insulting or weird things to Caine, but if you use that dog tone with him he’ll take just about anything as a compliment or praise.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, he’d be so fun to fuck with. “He’s not a dom…” you snicker, “but I’d still call him daddy.”

“Denture Daddy!” Jibba bursts out, nearly knocking himself and you off your perch.

The two of you laugh so loud it catches the attention of the others across the way. You wave your hand at Ragatha’s confused expression and further try to prevent the two of you from falling.

“I hate to intrude on this moment of merriment but,” Caine clears his throat, looking between the two of you with confused concern. “You two do know I’m not your father, yes?”

Jibba lets out a scream that turns everyone’s attention back onto you two, only to follow with nearly scream-level laughter from the man. You can’t really blame him though because you haven’t stopped laughing either, especially not long enough to try and explain to Caine that the two of you weren’t calling him father.

You give Caine what one could only describe as some form of yes as an answer before telling him he can go between cries and Caine leaves hesitantly. Your sides are starting to ache from so much laughing, meanwhile, Jibba has his face buried into his hands and is leaning into your shoulder like you’d be able to stop his laughter and tears.

He’s taking this a lot funnier than you but man, “denture daddy” is gonna always be in the back of your mind when you look at Caine from now on.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus oc #tadc oc #tadc original character #original character x reader #tadc rhett (oc)#tadc jibba (oc)

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byulsgrease · 2 years

Text

intercepted

(spy!au moonbyul x afab reader, ~1k words, from this req)

content: fingering, ruined orgasm but not intentionally so

“Why do you always get to drive?” pointedly moving your head to face the side of hers, shifting your body to dig your left shoulder into the back of your seat. Some stakeout you’re having tonight— you’ve been watching an unmoving hotel room door for hours now. Your limbs ache from the stillness but you’re prohibited from exiting the vehicle. Pretty basic principle in the whole “not blowing cover” situation.

“Because you’re a shit driver, that’s why,” Byulyi states with a laugh. “You’re the better shot, anyway.”

“Uh huh, and when was the last time we had a high speed chase?”

“Last week,” she deadpans.

“Exactly! I’m dying of boredom over here.” Your body teems with pent up energy, even though it’s well past midnight. You’d kill to stretch your legs. Almost enough to wish that your target would just flee on foot so you’d have the chance to run and chase her. But that would require a lot more lung capacity than you currently possess (or are willing to expend).

Your eyes continue to roam over your companion in the drivers seat. She sits upright with one hand on the wheel, impatiently fidgeting her thumb as she flits it over the dark pleather. You must let out quite the sigh because she lets out a humored rapid puff of air from her nose.

“What’re you looking at?” she poses cooly, maintaining her eye contact with the hotel door through the windshield.

“Anything but that damn door.” You can’t help but notice how her eyes flutter shut briefly, the subtle shake of her head as she laughs and rests her head in her hand, elbow of her left arm now propped up haphazardly against the drivers-side window.

“What to do with you…?” she trails off rhetorically. You dart your eyes back to the door for a split second before planting your hands on the middle console to lean over and kiss her on the cheek.

~~~

The first time you recall actually giving voice to any of this was your 4th time working together. Or maybe 5th. After so many it’s quite a drag to remember them all. But you remember the assignment, simple observation of a high profile socialite at an event they hosted.

Actually, the venue stuck out in your mind more than anything else. Lots of glass, crystal, and shiny decor far beyond anything you’d been accustomed to seeing. You’d dressed your best and so did Byulyi, standing near each other having what was supposed to look like a casual conversation on the job.

“Why do you think we always get assigned to these things together?” she asked with a lilt in her voice.

“Maybe ‘cause the higher-ups can’t deal with our unresolved tension?” you posed in a manner far too casual, cut short by your target having moved a little too close for comfort. You turned on your heel and walked swiftly in the opposite direction, suit jacket flaring out behind you in a flourish. An hor d'oeuvre sounded perfect right about now.

Byulyi realized why you moved, but remained frozen in place, stunned. “Wha— our what?” she hissed in a loud whisper as she started off after you.

You continued in your detailed observation once you stopped moving, laying out a mental map of the target as she moved around the room. Hostess duties. It would’ve been mesmerizing, her brilliant gown shimmering under the light cast from the chandelier— had you not been on assignment. But it made for a pleasant scene. You’d seen much worse.

“Tension? I’m not tense. If anything you make me tense,” Byulyi stressed quickly, jabbing a finger into the pointed shoulder of your suit jacket. You caught her drift without skipping a beat, staring straight ahead.

“Mm. But I think we know by now that you work better under pressure. So maybe the bosses are just looking out for you,” trailing off as you took a bite. “Also, I can tell you’re bluffing. So quit it,” swiping sauce with your knuckle from the corner of your smirking mouth. You met her panicked gaze with smug satisfaction and the slightest shake of your head. Any chance to poke fun at her helped these assignments feel marginally less boring.

She could berate you for this later, you both had a job to do. Although she didn’t understand how you devoted your energy to detailed observation while chewing that unceremoniously on whatever you were eating. She always got too antsy on assignment to eat, but would have subsequent lapses in judgement during high-stress situations, so you had to remind her to eat on duty regardless.

Of course, that didn’t stop Byulyi’s mind from wandering a little. She wondered if she was even allowed to catch feelings for someone who’s saved her ass more than once. Wouldn’t anyone have at least a tiny crush if their life was indebted to someone else? Encapsulated in totality by sheer admiration. She mostly put that aside for work, worried about the optics of being with a superior.

She was turning it over in her head for the tenth time when you cut in.

“Mm, I make you tense?” you questioned with your mouth half-full.

Alcohol? Byulyi thought to herself. Despite the many staff walking around with flutes of champagne on platters and an open bar, there was no way— she had been with you all night. She gave a subtle nod, wanting you to continue.

“But why?” you stressed more clearly, having finished whatever tiny bite of food you had plucked off the tray of a nearby staff.

Byulyi suddenly found it wildly difficult to meet your gaze. What was she supposed to do, admit it? You pivoted on your foot with confidence to face her, bending slightly at the knees to catch her downward gaze in yours. Stepping in closer, you pinched the lapel of her blazer, trailing a hand up the flap, stopping just around her heart. No need for spoken words to joke about her heartbeat as it pounded through her shirt against your knuckles.

“Scared?” you chuckled. “You really are tense, that’s for sure. We’ll have to work on that.”

“Mm… mhm,” Byulyi hummed affirmatively, words caught in her throat. To anyone else looking on, you may as well have been a couple sharing a moment in the ornate hall.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just me, you know?”

She may as well have stopped breathing.

You found it endearing, elbows locked at her sides as to not envelop you in her embrace. Even having closed the distance in a breathless kiss, doing this, she managed to continually be so awkwardly uptight. Your fist involuntarily tightened against the lapel of her jacket, mentally patting yourself on the back when she gasped into your lips. You deepened the kiss automatically like a reflex, delicately bringing your fingers up to her cheek, feeling the heat build under her skin. All she did was take a hand to the curve of your waist before your mind began thinking about her hands being put to use in other ways. Never mind that she was a rookie on the job, but you could mentor her in more ways than one.

Chastising yourself for getting mildly worked up, you pulled away with whatever ounce of composure you had to spare. Byulyi’s face morphed from surprise to a dopey grin, smiling with her lips before they parted to show her teeth.

“What?” you deadpanned, playful sarcasm thick in your voice as you flattened out the creases from your shirt.

In one swift motion her fingers hooked around the back of your neck to bring her face back to yours. Finally, you thought. She learned something about the element of surprise. Although not necessarily in the context you expected. You made a mental note to rub that in later, something along the lines of how you’d been rubbing off on her. Except she stopped dead just before meeting your lips again.

Heat climbed up your throat in tandem with your heartbeat, a warm thumping overtaking your senses. The couple seconds of being face-to-face elongated into at least a couple minutes, mentally snapped back when she grinned again, mere centimeters from your face.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you murmured playfully. “I have a gun, you know.”

“Two can play at that game,” Byulyi countered, breath warm on your half-parted lips, sliding the other hand just above the holster on your waist.

“Mm, just because you have one doesn’t mean you know how to use it, newbie.”

“Guess I have a lot to learn. You’ll have to teach me sometime, won’t you?” she breathed, barely audible to anyone else, but deafening to you despite the blood pounding in your ears.

You gulped and wordlessly went back to observing the target, albeit not particularly closely from how flabbergasted she left you. The twinkling glasses of champagne being offered up by the waiters seemed particularly enticing after that ordeal, but alas. Work commands sobriety. Nothing else of note happened that night, just some close observation and an extravagant venue.

~~~

Anyway, it’s a welcome surprise when she kisses you back properly over the console. Her lips eventually attach themselves to the base of your neck, a strained complaint leaving your mouth, something about keeping her eyes on the target. Your tone isn’t particularly convincing. Your eyes flit back to the door you’re both supposed to be watching as Byulyi pulls skin between her teeth, the pleasant kind of pain that you know will leave a mark. You cradle her head, tangling a hand in her hair with an involuntary fist when she nips at your neck again.

“Ahh, how the turns have tabled,” she gloats, pulling back to her head on her palm, elbow resting on the middle console between you. “Remember back in the old days where I was scared of you?”

“Oh shut up, that’s not eve— fuck,” voice going breathy when she interrupts your response with a finger pressing in on your clit. Despite her insufferable cockiness after realizing her dumb little crush ventured into the mutual affection territory, it’s not a terrible way to kill time.

Your heels dig into the soles of your shoes as they subsequently slip against the floormat of the passenger seat, trying to push your hips up to meet her fingers. You’re trying your best not to whine or whimper too much, even though you could kill to hop over the console and have her fuck you in the drivers seat. The worst you can do is to come off as needy. But once again, you both have a task at hand, and unfortunately it’s not this.

“Now you might not wanna get too loud,” she warns, her purely overconfident smile ever-present in the tone of her voice.

“Don’t you— have a job– to do?” You manage to stutter out between pleasured breaths.

“Don’t you?” she laughs as a finger slips tantalizingly slow into your heat. Touché. Your eyes flutter shut momentarily as the back of your head digs into the headrest, hips rolling up readily into her hand. The wetness spreads up to your clit, aiding her movements.

As much as it hurts your pride to admit, there’s no denying that there’s something here. You’re suddenly flooded with thoughts of soft mornings, sultry whispers, and quiet moans enrobed in plushy bedsheets. Ugh, domesticity. If you really wanted that you wouldn’t have gotten into this line of work. Although, granted, you never expected to meet anyone quite like her on the job.

You’re getting lost in her touch now as she works you up more and more. It’s the worst when you can just hear her smirking from the little laugh that accompanies it. She lets up her pace and pressure ever so slightly, making you painfully aware of the mess you’ve created under your uniform. A groan and clasping your fingers around her wrist trapped between your body and the waistband serves as desperation enough, abandoning any sense of keeping your cool.

With this non-verbal plea you’re careening towards the edge again in no time— when she immediately yanks her hand out of your pants. She interrupts your barely formed complaint about edging with an punctuated “Oh shit.” Your eyes fly open to see that the motel room door is finally opening. You hold back from being dismayed at the absolutely terrible timing. Byul sucking on her fingers to clean them right before turning the key in the ignition makes your head spin, but you’re shaken out of it upon the rumble of the engine.

You sit up properly in the passenger seat, glaring hard at the woman who just ruined your fun as she slips into an awaiting car. Byul puts the car in gear to tail close behind as the other car pulls out of the lot.

#mamamoo imagines #mamamoo smut #moonbyul smut #moon byulyi #mamamoo moonbyul #requested #moonbyul imagines #girl group smut #mamamoo scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagines #sigh we're back to afab reader land #bc the tumblr gods did not like my gender studies-aligned terminology

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angelizs · 2 years

Note

Speaking on crushes now weve heard ur thoughts on floyd what about jade 👀,how do you yourself think he may act ?,cause for an eel thats more secretive in his own ways its fun to think about

HII ANON!!

I like the way you think! Floyd with a crush is already entertaining, now imagine the quieter twin when he's infatuated with someone... let's see...

if you manage to attract Jade's affection, you must be quite something. I think he'd like someone who's curious and, like his brother, someone that doesn't stay stagnant and complacent, but is always looking ways to improve and to change! it helps to keep things far from boring! also, he'd like someone who listens to his interests and is willing to indulge him from time to time, even if they themselves don't actively take part in them. he'll gladly listen to them talking abt their interests in exchange! perhaps while they share some tea and the newest mushroom dish he's created...

hmmm, noticing that Jade has a crush would be quite hard, seeing as he's naturally more discreet. I think he'd talk more with his crush, not that he'd become a chatter box, mind you, but he'd be happy to share his interests with them and, depending on how far their trust relationship is, he might be willing to share a bit about himself, too. he'd be very curious and attentive to what they like and make sure to remember it, either so he can bring up in conversation later or so he can buy/make it for them. he'd be very teasing, but it's just that he likes the banter! having someone that can keep up with his light hearted jabs and throw back some equally as good can be very entertaining! I also think he'd like someone that can indulge him with some more serious topics of conversation that might require some more brain stimulation. if they can offer him new perspectives on things, he'd be delighted!

I think he's very atunned with his feelings and would notice if he's got a crush on someone, tho at first he'd proceed like normal just to see how things play out and to observe a bit more his own reactions, as well as theirs to check if it might be reciprocated. he might want to try to spend more time with them even with his busy schedule, convincing them to visit the lounge or to take a walk with him at the botanical garden. he miiight make some flirty remarks here and there or some more casual touches if he's got suspicions of them liking him back, but it would be nothing too remarkable and still subtle. he'd also act more like a gentleman/butler type around them and do little service acts (for free!! mostly). he might get a bit protective, if anyone is giving them trouble, all they need to do is say it to him and he'll take care of it :)

and if you manage to fluster him?? HE'S IN DEEP. take him by surprise, be with heartfelt gestures and words or a bold move forward, and he'll be so enthusiastic. he'll love to see what other unexpected things you'll do next!

I think Jade might also like some more domestic settings? while he enjoys his daily entertainment and healthy dose of chaos, getting some time to sit back and just have a quiet and peaceful moment with his love can be equally enjoyable. getting used to each other's presence and routines, doing little things for them and knowing each other in and out! just the intimacy and trust involved...

#tea time #so. I. might have a gigantic crush on him and was giggling and kicking my feet as I wrote.#hehe Jade with a crush what will he do #just smth abt someone that looks impenetrable and cold having enough heart to love someone else and get a crush and stuff...#like the break of expectation? the way he'd break his polite façade around them and have a genuine smile on his face? how he'd get a #different tone when talking with them? how he'd be excited to share things with them and have things shared with him in return? how he's #capable and known for being dangerous and cruel acting very soft and loving around them?#how he'd get worried and take care abt them (and he'd let them take care of him too)?#LIKE. TELL ME YOU WOULDN'T FALL IN LOVE TOO #yes he may be a little bastard but. he's my little bastard #I'll admit this is sooo self indulgent

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navarr-esthelian · 28 days

Text

Navarr jerked his head at the brisk knock that sounded on the door frame of the Shady Lady. Two broad figures darkened the doorway, and even from the dim interior he could make out his two “favorite” humans, Jacob Weaver and Javier Castillo from the Northwind Trading Company. Favorite not because he trusted them in the least, or that they were genuinely friendly. Favorite because they were intriguing, and infuriating, kept him guessing and were almost altogether resistant to his charms.

When he first met them by chance, he only had eyes for the exotic, dark featured Javier. Something about him struck Navarr immediately; perhaps it was simple lust, or the desire to understand why the gentleman was so captivating with his bearing and demeanor. It was only after meeting Javier that he realized there was no “just”Javier, it was Javier and Jacob. The two were rarely apart. And the one time Navarr met Javier alone, he was very different. Cordial. Friendly. Relaxed.

Jacob laid on the charm fairly early. He proved to be the more silver-tongued of the two, and even gave Navarr welcoming hugs. But he could also be the most pushy and threatening when Navarr said the wrong thing.

Now, the two stood in the doorway, playing coy, requesting to come in. They had a business proposal of course, and Navarr heard them out. As he listened, he thought of the efforts he'd made to befriend them: the gifts, the flattery, the ingratiating banter. How much of it was a game, a carefully crafted manipulation on either end? It was absolutely a dance of give and take, with Navarr doing most of the giving. But this evening, they offered. Perhaps all his work was paying off. They made a tenuous plan between the three of them.

Later that night, they ran into each other again in the Lamb. Javier complimented Navarr's outfit. They both mentioned wanting to see him in private. He laughed and casually mentioned, “I see you've finally caved,” in reference to the efforts to flatter Javier. The flirting, the innuendo. The subtle offers that Javier constantly rebuffed or ignored. Navarr had given up, and yet Javi sought him out. Jacob was not far. He was never too far away. Both of their eyes were on him.

“I finally caved,” Javier had said to him. With a laugh. Navarr couldn't tell if it was genuine or fake. Javier was very hard to read.

"And here I thought you boys were celibate.” Navarr remarked with a smirk, and a gentle elbow jab to Javier.

Inside? Inside he was confident, but cautious. Something felt off. There was a sense of urgency in Javier’s request to talk later. And again, after Javier left, Jacob approached and re-emphasized the desire to talk with Navarr privately and as soon as possible.

While he hoped such a meetup would end with him being the meat in a Jacob-Javi sandwich, he was not that deluded. Being a bisexual male for as long as he could remember had taught him to be cautious in pursuing others who might think of his lifestyle as "sinful." If he wasn't careful, he might end up beaten or worse.

What were these two planning? He supposed he would find out sooner or later.

((I shifted some of the actual conversation around to help with flow of the story. Stay tuned, eep!))

#world of warcraft #moon guard

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cacklefrendly · 2 years

Text

i love my bugs. im so glad that they don't exist. here's some bug social stuff.

TL;DR:

● the Angel social hierarchy is almost entirely dictated by an individual's age.

however, age is only counted from the moment of rebirth — when a Cherub injects an Angel larvae into a human host and dies. an Angel whose Cherub lived for 10 years and was reborn a week ago is lower on the pecking order than an Angel whose Cherub lived for a week and was reborn last year. even though the 10-years-Cherub Angel is likely to become stronger, the pecking order will only change from a direct order from the queen.

speaking of orders, the oldest Angels — Archangels, functionally a soldier caste — direct their younger siblings. command is based on what Angels are reborn within an Archangel's perimeter of influence. Archangels don't have a direct claim over Cherubs and larvae tho, so the Nurseries work out the distribution of young between themselves.

an Angel refering to another as "little [sibling]" can be either affectionate or a jab to remind them of their place.

○ the Demon "social" hierarchy is primarily based on who's edible and who's too strong to eat.

because of this, food-based nicknames are a subtle reinforcement of one's position. as Crowley is King of the Crossroads, for example, he uses 'cupcake', 'sweetcheeks', ect. but will (literally) snap at a lower Demon if they do the same to him.

the verbal reinforcement isn't entirely conscious, so it can be a great way to understand their opinion of someone!!

-> if a Demon begins a conversation using food-based nicknames, they regard the other party as lower/a target from the get-go.

-> if the Demon doesn't use them at all, the other party is seen as an equal or higher.

-> if the Demon starts with the nicknames, but drops them partway through the conversation, than the Demon has been charmed or intimidated by the other party!

-> if a Demon starts using food-based nicknames partway through, than something that was said just placed the speaker onto the menu so maybe make some excuses and get out of there right now immediately.

● the back of the neck is Significant to Angels, as the head of their real body (referred to as their 'soul') rests right under the skin there.

Demons on the hunt go for the back of the neck, so Angels are very squeamish about having it exposed — many wear stiff-collared clothing or scarves, and try to keep people at their front.

humans with Angel associates often get punched in the face early on in their relationships, as casual gestures such as hugging someone and patting their shoulder can set off the Angel's fight-or-flight response. Dean, specifically, gets suplexed by Cas for startling him with an arm around his shoulders.

○ the equivalent of this for Demons is their stomachs, though their response doesn't strictly come from fear — it's territorial.

Demons first enter their hosts through the stomach, stitching it up behind them with magic. to a Demon, touching the stomach is similar to testing the locks of someone's house: rude and very likely a threat.

they have a huge range of movement inside their hosts, so a Demon that can't move it's arms and gets particularly pissed off at a stomach-touch might actually poke their head out and bite you.

● as the resident eusocial insects, Angels have an innate desore to form social bonds. and they tend to be quite good at it! too good. Angels could stand to be worse at caring for people. there are cases of Angels meeting humans and declaring "i would die for you" within a week. it's a problem.

to combat this (remember, Angel development p much relies on manipulating humans), cultural pressure states to only form friendships with other Angels. you most frequently see friendships between coworkers. second common is between Angels with similar haunting grounds, and the third common being an Angel caretaker and some Angels they cared for as Cherubs. clutchmates can form significant bonds, but that's pretty unusual — with several thousand siblings it's considered kinda weird to prioritize one or two just because you were born together, yknow??

as a consequence of this cultural pressure, Angels who don't interact with humans tend towards a very strong 'us VS them' mentality and those who do often struggle with feelings of guilt and concerns re: their loyalty to the colony and queen.

○ as decidedly solitary insects, Demons don't naturally do the whole 'friendship' thing. Demonic relationships tend to be based on "you have goods/services i want, i have a reward you want" — very businesslike. it's not really surprising that they've got the reputation they do. they don't have an innate desire for bonds, they don't have a drive to protect their children, and, Demonic fun fact, they don't have much of a cute response.

BUT that's not to say that meaningful relationships are impossible! they just take more time and effort than they do for humans or Angels!! in fact, friendship is on the rise in the Demon community, because they're being forced to have a community at all — Lucifer's influence has them playing at eusocial behavior on a large scale, which is creating new opportunities to form genuine relationships. they're still rare, for now.

friendships haven't been in their cultural zeitgeist for long enough to develop rules about who can be befriend what, so the only requirements for Demons are persistence and cooperation. like most people, just talk to them regularly and be pleasant at them. that being said, Angel-Demon friendships are. Very Unlikely from the Demonic side of things. because of the predation. Demon-Human is actually the most common, because humans are just Like That.

●○ pronouns are used in relation to the host body, not the Angel or Demon inside. if they viewed gender in the same way humans try to, all Angels would go by she/her and Demons would probably just bite your face off on principle. and good for them, honestly.

#supernatural #bug angels #something something real apocalypse something something friends we make alone the way #the first long post not to get a bug warning lmao

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archived-kin · 3 years

Text

caught in a twin courtship

note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it

(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)

(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean

pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine

warning(s): i don’t think so??

genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst

you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.

the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.

then they hear a yell in the distance.

jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.

a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”

aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”

“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”

diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before

so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself

it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from

you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling

lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place

aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute

one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage

(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)

strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially

aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed

the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city

all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation

you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated

lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire

luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!

you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple - a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place

at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy

the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it

aether and lumine are basically star-struck

from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once

the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it

diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway

(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)

from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other

it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together

aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better

is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know

considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life

lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long

maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys

aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short

he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up

lumine is a lot more subtle

she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling

of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily

at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other

but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk

it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it

and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?

if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact

it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.

the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.

it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to

from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to

lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make

so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.

if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.

he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?

but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.

he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.

so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.

if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.

lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.

but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?

she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.

lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.

but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.

if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.

the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?

neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.

they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway

to their joyous surprise, you agree!

and from then marks the point of no return…

aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.

lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.

the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)

in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin aether #genshin lumine #genshin traveller #aether x reader #lumine x reader #traveller x reader #fluff #love triangle #kinda??#just a little angst #as a treat #genshin diluc #genshin venti #unedited

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buckydeniro · 3 years

Text

This Is Trouble

part 1

dad’sbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

a/n: okay, i’m prettyyy new to writing and this is my first jab at writing a series or something that isn’t a hc so please be gentle with me. this could be complete shit and suck ass but ya know what, oh well! i’m a slut for dad’sbestfriend!bucky so here ya go! i really hope you enjoy it!! :-)

summary: you didn’t plan this. he didn’t either. you thought you would come home from college, spend some time with your dad, and find a place for yourself to live. but you soon found yourself in a sexual tension filled challenge with your dad’s best friend. but what happens when feelings develop and they become too strong to deny?

"Dad." You groan as he covers your eyes with his hands. You had just graduated college and after a few days spent packing up your stuff from your apartment near school and saying your goodbyes to your friends, you're finally back home. Your dad had the biggest grin on his face when he picked you up and you had a feeling he was up to something even though he swore he wasn't.

Now with his hands over your eyes in front of the door of your childhood home, you knew he was up to something.

"What's going on?" You ask, hearing the sound of people shuffling and a few shushing each other behind the door. "I know you hate surprises but you're back home so you're going to have to deal with it for the sake of your poor dad who has missed his daughter." You chuckle, a smile pulling at your lips.

You loved your dad. Your mom left when you were fairly young, hadn't even hit the double digits age range yet before her and your dad decided it was best to part ways. She never called or wrote, just left. But you made your way with your dad.

The sound of the door opening shakes you from your thoughts. Your dad removing his hands from your eyes to reveal a moderate sized group of family and friends before you.

Your eyes go big the exact moment they all yell out "Surprise!!" A red hot blush rushes to your cheeks and you smile bashfully, never having been one to like being the center of attention. You don't catch it but if you did you would have seen your dads best friend leaning against the kitchen doorway, lips moving up into a smile at your reaction.

"Okay, this was a pretty good surprise." Your smile blooms from shy and uncomfortable to happy and touched. You immediately hug your father, "Thank you. So much."

He gives you a tight squeeze causing you to choke out, "Dad." Chuckling at him as he lets go, letting air refill your lungs.

"I'm gonna give you some time with everyone. Good luck." With a kiss to the side of your head, Everyone begins rushing up, congratulating you, hugging you, commenting on how much you've grown and changed.

After nodding at one of the older womans dramatized comments about how she could hardly recognize you now, you feel someone watching you. Your eyes smoothly and quickly find Bucky, and you're almost thrown off actual physical balance at how good he looks. Holy shit. You swallow, your stomach doing a flip. Okay, what the fuck was that, stomach?

Not only have you changed but so as he. You breathe in through your nose as you take him in. The light stubble dancing on his jaw, a tight black shirt, the chains of his dog tags peaking out from the shirts collar. See he still wears those, you think to yourself. His black jeans matching his black boots have you trying not to bite your lip. You blink and quickly turn away, zoning back into the atmosphere around you.

He's always been attractive but jesus, when did he get that attractive. I guess you've both grown.

Apparently the lady, Lila, had still been talking to you, unaware your attention was pulled elsewhere for a moment. Firing questions off at you at a rapid speed, not stopping to hear your answers. So she's basically just having a conversation with herself and you've been deemed the appropriate audience for aome reason.

You hear footsteps coming towards you, flicking your eyes up, you see Bucky walking and stopping right in front of you. Oh my god. He smells amazing. No. What the fuck are you thinking? Reign it in, Y/N.

"Lila, don't wear the poor girl out." His bright, friendly smile drifting from her to you and you can't help the smile mirroring his on your lips. "Oh, I'm not." She chides, squeezing your arm softly with affection, "But I'll go." She playfully sighs and walks away.

Bucky's eyes haven't left yours, that contagious smile still on his face. "Welcome home, kid." That Brooklyn drawl has you biting your lip as you smile. It was a completely innocent movement, a habit you picked up a few years ago but it causes Bucky to look down at your lips, quickly flicking his gaze back to you as he inhales, mentally shaking thoughts from his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes." You say politely. Bucky pulls a face and laughs, causing you to laugh along with him. Why is everything he does so contagious? He shakes his head as he speaks. "No, no, kid. Call me Bucky."

You nod your head once before pulling a face of your own. "Okay, but you can't call me 'kid' anymore. I'm 22, Bucky." The new 'title' leaving your mouth like an acception to a challenge.

He nods his head, lifting his hands up in mock defence, smirking at the way you said his name.

"Okay, okay. I got it. Y/N." His voice falls soft, almost sounding like he just found out what your name was and was calling you by it for the first time.

"Ah, Y/N, see you've caught up with Buck." Your dad grins, slapping a friendly hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Come on, party is out back."

Steve leads the way, both you and Bucky following. You purse your lips, fighting off a smile and Bucky snorts. "Party." You say quietly, glancing at Bucky as he retorts back speaking quietly so your dad doesn't hear, "Oh yeah, it's raging, can't you tell? Might just give them college parties of yours a run for their money."

You hum in acknowledgement, "You might be right, Barnes. But, I have been to some good ones."

"Barnes, huh?" You can't quite read the look on his face. All you know is that you're both looking at each other with some kind of playfulness, like the beginning of a new game has just started and you're on opposing sides.

"Mhm. Barnes." You overly dictate the 'B' in his name, drawing the 'A' out a bit, making a clicking sound with the side of your mouth, your focus forward.

Your dad turns around, clapping you softly on the shoulder, "Have fun, hon. One of the guys is calling for me. Sam! I'm coming!" You watch as your dad huffs, jogging up to his friend, swatting the spatula away from his hands, focus on the grill Sam was, I guess, butchering.

"So, you still do that." You turn your head back to Bucky, furrowing your eyebrows a little, tilting your head slightly, confusion lightly appearing on your face. "Do what?"

He puts his gloved covered hands into his jacket pockets, clearing his throat, "You make that sound when you're focusing on something or are nervous." There's a slight pause before he speaks up again. "You nervous with the get together or bein' back home or somethin'?"

You didn't realize you even did that. You were a little nervous but it wasn't because of the party your dad threw for you. It was because of Bucky. It's a good nervous but it confuses you none the less.

"Yeah. Just being back home." You nod, lips tugging up at the corner for a smile. "The change and everything."

Bucky doesn't look quite convinced but lets it go. Your attention is drawn forward, wanting to look anywhere but Bucky. The way he looks at you was fogging up your brain.

"You still wear the dog tags."

This time he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "I can notice things too, Bucky." You whisper with a smile, your attention turning back to him, causing him to chuckle.

"Well, they are mine, Doll." You both freeze. Fuck, he thinks. It just slipped out. He couldn't help it. He's fucked it now, shit. But you chew on your bottom lip, fighting back a smile but the hint of it is there and Bucky catches it and feels as if he can breathe again.

"Doll, huh?" You repeat his words back to him.

With a slight cocky tilt of his head, a subtle smirk and something dancing in both of your eyes, he throws it right back at you. Repeating your own words, the exact way you said them to him, "Mhm. Doll."

Before you could react, say anything, he had turned and casually walked away, yelling a hello at one of his and your dad's old friends and although you couldn't see his face, he had the biggest smirk on it. You let out a breath, not knowing what to make of yours and his interaction.

It was Bucky. Just Bucky. Your dad's best friend. He was just being friendly and teasing. Normal. But as you walk to grab a beer from the cooler near by, you can't help but question a little, "Right?"

Straightening your back, you feel eyes on you and you immediately know whose they are. Turning your head, you lock eyes with the brown haired man, taking a swig of his beer.

Your brain repeating the question again, "..Right?"

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au x reader #bucky barnes hc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!buckybarnes #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnea angst #marvel masterlist #bucky barnes masterlist

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stargazingthenightaway · 3 years

Text

See Something You Like? Part 2

Pairing: Rebels Rex x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: NSFW 18+ Sexual tension, yearning, dirty thoughts, praise kink, size kink, Dom!Rex, slight predator/prey vibes

A/N: Ahhhh! Thank you for all your lovely comments! ILYSM 💖 💖 🥰 🥰 Just a heads up, it might be a couple weeks before I get the next chapter up. Report card season is here, and I need to get those sorted. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Fuck.

Your heart stutters as you bolt upright, frantically wishing the panic away. The heat from your face alone could give the twin suns of Tatooine a run for their credits as mortification sinks low in your chest. It’s a struggle to keep your breathing even, outwardly trying to appear calm when all you want to do is sink into the floor and disappear. Of all the times to be caught fantasizing about riding this man’s face! It was like your depraved thoughts had summoned him, taunting you with the object of your fantasies, dangling him just out of your reach. Look but don’t touch.

You haven’t turned around yet, and judging by the silence, you can tell Rex is still waiting expectantly for your answer. Kriff, how were you to answer that. You can guess how well telling him the truth would go “Interrupting? Oh no sir, I was just imagining how you’d sound as you hold me down and make me cum on your tongue.” Pfft, you’d be written up for inappropriate conduct and get a one-way ticket to the Hoth base. Try getting yourself off when your fingers are stuck under your armpits trying to stay warm. Bye-bye happy times.

As these thoughts are going rabid fire through your head you don’t notice Rex has leaned up against the wall by the door, giving you a slow once-over, lingering on your ass and appreciating the way the fabric clings in all the right places. Lifting his eyes up he can see the flush making its way up the back of your neck. Rex chuckles quietly to himself, too quietly for you to hear, as he takes in your reaction to being caught bent in half, for anyone passing by to see. But lucky him, he got to see that tantalizing sight of you, face down-ass up, groaning quietly like you needed a good fuck. Rex had to hold himself back when you’d uttered “Fuuuuck me” in such a wrecked tone, wanting to fulfil your plea and fuck you like you asked, like you needed. If he played his cards right he’d be able to hear so many more of your sweet sounds, and they’d be all for him.

Finally deciding to just get through this conversation as quickly as possible, you turn around and feel your knees go weak. Maker save you. The sight that greets you is like something from the holo novels that you keep hidden under your bed. Rex had decided to forgo his cuirass and spaulder, showing off his black undershirt, which left his arms on full display. All that beautiful, unobstructed muscle led down to his vambraces, fitted snuggly against his wrists. His hands were resting low on the holster belt slung around his hips while his legs were crossed over at the ankles. He looked deceptively at ease except for the way his eyes were focused on you. All sultry, and brooding and hungry. You can’t help but feel caught in his gaze and there’s a fleeting thought that if you were to run Rex would give chase until he had hunted you down, snared in the cage of his arms. That mental image makes your lower belly clench in anticipation, already eager to be caught.

You’re brought back to the present when Rex raises a questioning brow your way, still waiting for you answer, though he’s more amused by your reaction judging by the smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Frantically shaking your head, the answer you’ve been looking for finally shoves its way past your throat. “No Sir, no interruption at all.” You notice one of his hands twitch by his sides before going still again.

Rex tilts his head to the side, “Are you sure?” His eyes are tracking your movements, looking for any little tells that could help bring you closer to him. “You sounded pretty desperate there, cyar’ika.”

If only he knew. You try to send what looks like a reassuring smile his way “Absolutely! I was just lost in thought.”

He pushes himself off the wall, intrigued. “Now what could have caused your thoughts to stray?” He stalks closer, and for each step he takes, you take a step back. It’s not long until your back is pressed against the shelf and he’s standing in front of you.

The way he looks at you sends thrums of pleasure through your veins, his proximity sending your senses into high alert. You catch a whiff of his cologne, a subtle spice that has you leaning into him, only for you to quickly jerk back.

Nonono! Abort! Abort! In a sad effort to avoid the real reason for your wandering mind and to prevent your body from utterly betraying you and jumping Rex where he stood, you throw out the first excuse you could come up with.

“My friend Ria dared me to beat her high score on this particular sim,” you wave blindly behind you, “and I have until tonight to win.” You mentally cringe and are already planning on how to apologize to Ria. While she’s a sucker for drama, Ria prefers to hear about it then to live it. She dislikes being pulled into your schemes, especially recently, with your ideas of avoiding a certain Captain while you try to control your libido.

Rex crosses his arms over his chest, shirt pulled tight across his biceps, and just making himself look bigger. Your eyes flicker down and back up to his face, trying not to get distracted.

“What are the stakes?” He asks

“Huh?” Is your eloquently response. Why was he still interested in this? Your answer was supposed to be enough that he’d let you scurry away, but here he was asking for more.

“What happens if you lose your bet?” Rex patiently rephrases his question, looking like there was no where else he’d rather be at this moment. He enjoys how flustered you’re getting, especially when your eyes stray down his torso before rushing back to his face.

Your hands flutter by your sides. “Oh, um,” you flounder, not thinking he’d press this hard for answers, “well, there wasn’t anything specific, just that I’d have to do something for her, however and whenever, she asks” Nailed it! “Sort of an IOU kinda thing.” You mentally give yourself a pat on the back. Surely he’d let you go now.

Rex rubs his hand along his chin, humming to himself as a grin starts to form on his face. This was the opening he was hoping for! He thinks it’s cute how you’ve started to relax, thinking you’re safe, that he’ll let you go. But he’s far from finished with you, not by a long shot. If he has his way this conversation will continue far into tomorrow morning, and every morning for as long as you will have him. His eyes find yours and you see a triumphant glint that causes your breath to hitch.

“So what you’re telling me is that she gets to do anything she wants to you, however she wants, when she wins” He practically purrs out the last part, a deep rumble coming from his chest.

You don’t know why but the way he says that, paired with the smouldering look he’s giving you, sends a shiver all the way through your core. When he puts it like that it sounds like some sort of dirty rendezvous, in all the best ways. Something he said suddenly catches up to you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What do you mean when she wins?” You step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you think I can’t beat her score?!” Of all the nerve!

Rex looks down at the finger smushed into his chest then back up to you. Such a spitfire! He adores how innocent you look when you’re flustered, the rosiness of your cheeks and your fluttering hands, but this. Well, this version of you gets his blood singing, ready to prove he’s a worthy opponent for you. Indignation lights a spark in your eyes, and coupled with your battle ready stance to throw hands, has his cock ready to stand at attention. Rex knows he just needs to push just a little bit more to get you just where he wants.

He wraps his hand around yours, and moves it away from his chest. While furious, you still have enough coherency to feel how his palm completely engulfs your fist. Stars, is he this big all over? You almost miss how his thumb starts rubbing soothingly along your hand. “It may just be the soldier in me, but in order to beat a high score you actually need to shoot the targets in front of you, not just stare at them cyare.”

Force take you, he had been watching you longer than you thought! Your face burns in embarrassment and you make a move to take your hand back. Rex tightens his grip to prevent you from moving away and pulls you close enough that you can feel the heat from his body. You try and salvage some of your dignity.

“That was a minor blip,” you mumble to his chest before looking up, staring defiantly into his eyes before you spit out “I bet I could hit more targets than you with my eyes closed.”

There’s a strange gleam in Rex’s eyes when he hears your challenge, posture alert as he straightens up. “Oh ya?” The same challenging tone is in his voice. “You think you can take me on mesh’la? Let’s put a little wager on it.”

It’s too late to back down now, so you think for a moment before tossing out your wager. “Alright, if I win, you take me on your next mission with the Ghost.”

Rex nods along, almost too quickly, as he agrees to your side of the wager. The gleam in his eyes is still there as he casually tosses out what he wants “I’ll take the same bet as your friend mesh’la. I get to do anything I want to you, however I want.”

Fuck you sideways in an X-wing. There’s no way Rex could possibly mean it like that, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, like the tooka that got the cream, you can’t help but wonder.

You afraid that if you speak now, all that will come out of your mouth will be an undignified squeak, so you settle for nodding your head.

Bingo. Rex’s grin turns downright feral. “Perfect, it’s settled.” He abruptly turns you so that you’re facing the shooting range. “If you win, you get a mission,” Rex places the blaster in your hands, “and when I win, I get you.” The all to myself goes unspoken, but you can feel it hanging in the air between the two of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “If you win. I’m confident I can beat you.”

“We’ll see.” He takes a couple steps back. You’re about to turn around to ask him what he’s doing when he orders “Eyes forward, and get into position” and you hasten to obey.

You can feel a new flush start to crawl up your neck and you fight it down. Now was not the time to think about what other kinds of positions Rex wanted you to take. Of how he’d sound ordering you to suck his cock, or to keep your hands to yourself as he fucked you slow and deep, or how you can give him just one more. Stars, you desperately need to cum or get your head in the game, and since you can’t get to you bunk right now, the game it is.

You take your previous stance and settle in position. Rex is so quiet that you can’t help but quip coyly back at him “See something you like, Sir?”

The sound of your voice brings Rex back to the present, having found himself enjoying how quickly you moved to obey his order a little too much, needing to readjust himself. Your saucy little ‘Sir’ makes his hands clench by his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking slightly. Brat, he thinks fondly.

Looking at your stance, he decides it’s not quite right for what he has in mind. He hums, “Maybe, once I get your stance to my liking.” His boots barely make any sounds as he moves forward. “For one, it’s too wide.” Rex comes up behind you, moulding his body to your back, hands on your hips. You let out a little eep, hoping he didn’t hear. “You need to bring your feet in” and proceeds to bracket your legs with his own, using his feet to nudge yours closer to your centre. “You should feel snug in your position.”

Oh, I’m feeling snug alright. Rex had maneuvered you in such a way that you were pressed right up against his groin, hips nestles between his legs. There’s a dull throb building between your legs when you feel him push in, moving your hips to the side and you can feel him. It wouldn’t take much effort to grind back against him, create enough friction that he would have to bend you over and fill you up. You yelp as there’s a pinch to the sensitive skin on your side.

Rex lightly scolds you “Pay attention. If you want to beat me you need to listen to what I tell you.”

“Yes Sir” you automatically reply. There’s a subtle shift behind you before Rex takes one of his hand and covers your eyes. “Don’t have any blindfolds handy, so my hands will have to do.” He says gruffly, his voice a tad deeper.

Before you can ask if everything’s alright, you hear him hit the start button and you’re shooting as best you can. There are still too many thunks from misses for your liking, but you are confident enough that you can pull ahead. When you’ve finished, you turn to hand the blaster to Rex, moving past him to reset the simulation. When that’s done you lean against the wall. You try to relieve some of the pressure between your legs by clenching your thighs together, but it’s not nearly enough, so you suffer in silence. As you watch Rex get into position you decide to have a little fun with him. You wait until he closes his eyes to start the simulation. Just as he’s about to shoot you ask “Do you want me to help get you into position, just like you did for me?” Your question catches him unaware and you hear a thunk sound out. A small laugh escapes your lips. “Losing your touch old man?” You tease, a smirk kissing the side of your mouth. “I didn’t think you’d take what I gave you so easily.” You mimic his words from earlier.

Rex whips his head around to look at you, mouth open in surprise before he closes it in a thin line. “Oh cyar’ika, you shouldn’t have done that.” Rex tsks, shaking his head. “Here I was, thinking that I’d go easy on you, only winning by a couple more shots, but if that’s the way you want to play it.” He trails off as he extends his arm out in front of him before turning his body to face you, away from the targets. You can feel the smirk start to fade from your face and reappear on Rex’s. “I guess I’ll just have to show you that your place is under me,” and proceeds to shoot. Each shot making a ting sound. Every. Single. One. All without breaking eye contact with you. When he’s finished he motions for you to look at the score board. A perfect score.

You turn back to Rex as he puts the safety back on the blaster. “So, uh, congrats. You win.” You say quietly, realizing how quickly your plan backfired.

Rex looks far too please with himself. “Of course.”

You haven’t moved from your spot by the wall and Rex strides over, victory in his eyes. You don’t see as your looking at your boots. When he’s close enough he gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb, bringing your gaze to his.

“Don’t you know mesh’la? I always win.”

To be continued.

Taglist: @samrubio @justanotherstarwarswhore @bvcketfvcker

#Captain Rex #Rex #Oldman Rex #Rex x reader #Rebel Rex x reader #First Fic #Yay me #I promise there will be sexy times #It's just taking its time #Rex is looking at reader like 👀#He want the 🍑#I need a Dom Rex in my life

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writertitan · 3 years

Text

Saturday Cartoons

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 2001

themes: semi-mature content, morning after fluff, some good old-fashioned friends to lovers

requested by anon

Sunlight peered curiously through Levi’s curtains and caressed your face and your bared shoulders, gently coaxing you out of whatever dream you’d been having, already long forgotten. Though your back is turned to Levi now, you feel his warmth radiating towards you. With a blush, you remember the previous night, how his warmth enveloped you and made you dizzy with pleasure.

It had been the first night together after prancing around each other idly for months and months, always flirting secretly with glances and touches, never following through. After all, it was a little unwise to sleep with a friend. Nonetheless, you’d been invited along to happy hour with Levi and your little group, laughing into the night with no care for the time. The Friday night happy hours were the best; drinks upon drinks after everyone got off of work, empty complaints about the trials of the day and sometimes the entire week, and no worry about needing to go back the next day to do it all again.

Last night, however, things were electric in that buzzing bar with Levi and your mutual friends. It was one of the only times that you could stare at him as much as you wanted. Other times, everybody else strived to be inclusive, group conversations forcing you to look between everyone equally. Gawking at Levi would have earned a few jokes, a few jabs at your expense. But as the night wore on, your friends all getting more and more tired, more intoxicated, wrapping themselves into more intimate conversations of pairs of two or sometimes three, you seized the opportunity to melt into a one-on-one conversation with Levi. And, with each drink, the two of you had gotten closer and closer, thighs touching, shoulders brushing, and you were happy. It came as a shock when Levi whispered in your ear that you had to be more discreet so your friends wouldn’t get suspicious, more of a demand than anything. The acknowledgment of where this was headed was a surprise. Usually, the two of you skittered around it, halted the flirting before it became too serious, too solid. Not tonight. He told you to wait until it was time to go, and then you’d catch an Uber together. All you did was nod.

Now here you were, in his bed, one hand tracing the edges of sunlight on his crisp sheets as you struggled to prepare yourself for the inevitable and awkward morning after.

Your head throbbed just a tad, only a mini hangover dulling your mind, which you were thankful for. It was nice to be able to enjoy the morning, breathing slowly and evenly as you replayed last night in your mind over and over, your eyes closed as you thought of Levi’s lips, his hands…

His hands.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt feather-light traces down your spine, fingertips caressing you softly, barely noticeable had you not already been awake. Your face got hot instantly, knowing Levi was awake too, and you contemplated whether you should turn around or not.

Silly, you thought to yourself, I should turn around.

So you did, your eyes finding Levi’s stormy ones as his hand retreated back to his own bubble of space. He looked a little embarrassed, as though he’d been caught red-handed, but he played it off coolly.

“Good morning,” you whispered, voice still raspy from sleep.

“Good morning,” he echoed, eyes unreadable for a moment as he regarded you. Again, your face heated up, not knowing what to do next. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to stay the night? Maybe he’d expected you to leave before he awoke?

“I had fun last night,” you said, honest as can be. Slowly, you realized it wasn’t as awkward as you’d anticipated. Levi was, after all, still a dear friend to you. Things had just reached a new level. You contemplated for a moment how that would change things going forward.

Levi didn’t respond, but you smiled brightly upon seeing the small upward curve of his own lips, a rare smile gracing his features. One thing you knew about Levi: he smiled with his eyes. Even if a smile didn’t play on his lips sometimes, you could always see it in his eyes.

The rare smile on his lips touched the smile in his eyes today.

A silence wrapped around you again, not awkward but not comfortable, but filled with something you couldn’t quite make out. Unspoken words.

“There’s...a brunch place across the street,” Levi started, clearly a little uncomfortable, “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled and you hid your blush by burrowing most of your face into one of his pillows, eyes still on his as you smiled with pure embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“How embarrassing,” you complained, but you laughed as the words tumbled out. You sat up, shyly keeping the sheets wrapped around you. “Let’s go. I think a Bloody Mary will help with my headache.”

Levi perked up at that, cocking his head to the side. “Hungover?”

“Not quite, but I guess I had enough to make me feel nasty,” you told him, easily slipping into a normal conversation with him.

“Wait here,” he muttered, and you catch the way he hesitates before throwing the sheets off himself to bare himself to you. Of course you’d seen it all last night, but it was different in the morning, in the muted daylight peeking into his room through his curtains. Bashful, you looked away, also wanting to respect his privacy as he pulled on his boxers.

While Levi was gone, you scrambled to dress back into your clothes. You hadn’t made it very far, only able to have put on your undergarments and shirt, before he was back with a bottle of water and a bottle of painkillers. The thoughtful gesture made you blush again and you smiled, shy and grateful, as you took them from him.

“Thanks, Levi,” you said, popping two pills into your mouth and chasing them with some water. You were sitting on his bed, legs tangled into the sheets once more for some warmth, and you gazed at him as he also sat back down to join you. “So, when are we headed out?”

Levi was quiet for a moment, his expression a little thoughtful, but you couldn’t read the other emotion there until he spoke up.

“I was thinking we could just order in. Eat it here? Maybe just hang out?”

The idea made you perk up, finally picking up on that subtle shift in the atmosphere around you. Of course things weren’t going to be the same after sleeping together, but there had been a part of you that had been so sure that things weren’t going to change too much. Levi was offering to spend more time together and it made your head spin.

Not just a one night stand. You’d never wanted it to be, but this felt almost surreal.

You found yourself nodding eagerly before you registered what was happening.

Levi pulled up the website and let you look through the menu on his phone, not so subtly leaning in close so your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you browsed. Being more or less on the same page, wanting to still spend time together and not disregard last night as a one time thing, had made the energy clear and the awkwardness dissipate. You protested with Levi when he paid for the entire order, offering to give him money, but he scoffed and told you to knock it off.

Neither of you made a move to leave the bed. Unlike last night, this mood was calm and relaxed, both of you leaning into each other as you sat up against the headboard and gossiped and resumed your conversation from last night while you were still out at the bar. It was so easy with Levi, always. The only difference now was that you still felt nervous to test the waters. You were side by side, shoulders together with one of your legs draped carelessly over his, but could you stroke his arm if you wanted? Could you rest your chin on his shoulder while he talked about his clueless new intern?

The doorbell rang in the middle of one of your own tangents and you hesitantly pulled away from Levi to follow him to the door. He had pulled on a t-shirt and some sweatpants to go and answer to pick up your breakfast, and you awkwardly swayed in the background just out of eyesight, still clad in just your shirt and underwear.

As you moved to sit at Levi’s small dining table, he gives you a questioning look and nods to his living room.

“More comfortable,” was all he said, and you agreed. You sat on his couch and helped him take out your containers of food, watching Levi turn on the TV and immediately flip to the channel still showing Saturday morning cartoons. Your breath can’t help but catch in your throat as you flashed a small smile; you’d mentioned in passing last night that you sometimes liked to watch cartoons on your lazy days. The fact that Levi had remembered made your heart flutter.

This time, you weren’t going to be so shy and question if something was okay or not. The energy around you both was constantly shifting, ebbing and flowing, but there was no denying it. Though the question hadn’t come up just yet, you felt it now, stronger than ever: this was a new beginning.

You felt more confident about the way you pressed into his side as Levi smeared jam onto some toast with a plastic knife, and mumbled a thank you when he gave it to you to snack on. He casually lifted his legs to rest on the coffee table, with you mirroring him, and the both of you rested your breakfast on your lap as you watched cartoons.

Levi, always the ridiculously fast eater, finished way before you did and moved to immediately clean up after himself, but found himself right back at your side moments later. This time, however, his hands were free and you watched him stretch his arms above his head, not-so-subtly moving one behind you on the couch, and then slowly moving down to rest around your shoulders. You leaned into him and offered him a bite of your pancakes, which he was happy to munch on. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Each action got a reaction from you. When he started stroking your arm lightly with his fingers, you rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still on the screen. When you were finished eating and he wordlessly set the container aside without getting up to properly clean up, not wanting to make you feel like anything less than a welcome guest, you were huddling closer into him, practically on his lap. You knew the two of you were feeling the same. Nervous, excited, confused.

Finally, during a commercial, you were building the courage to speak the words into existence. However, Levi beat you to it.

“Is this okay?” he asked, head tilted down to look at you, still resting on his shoulder. You blinked a few times to regain composure, biting your lip as you looked at him.

You knew what he meant, of course. Did you want to be here? Did you want to be like this? Was the direction this was going okay with you?

“More than okay,” you replied in a breathy whisper. Levi physically seemed to relax under you and you couldn’t help the small chuckle that left you. “I’m...really happy. I don’t regret any of it.”

“Me too,” Levi assured you.

You felt a hand in your hair, threading through it gently, calming you, a silent action to let you know that he was willing to give this a try if you were.

And you were.

#levi x reader #levi one shot #levi fic #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #snk fanfiction #snk #levi

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

Text

For AU Day for @nessianweek I thought I’d test out this College AU that’s been bouncing around my brain because I’m College AU trash that I’m considering writing a proper/chaptered fic for. Hope you enjoy! :)

Most days, University of Prythian feels like every other public college. All brooding brick buildings and precisely placed green spaces and students loudly milling about in droves. A group of frat boys throwing around a frisbee on the common. A group of girls in bikinis tops taking advantage of the late August sun. Shouts of “oh my god, hey” and “how was your summer” just barely drowning out crying parents dropping their kids off. It’s migraine inducing.

Nesta throws the car into park, the old Chevy only groaning slightly as it settles after the trek up to campus. She hears the doors open and close, but she just grips the wheel and closes her eyes, taking in three steadying breaths and hoping the oxygen can find a way to calm her spiking blood. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It’s a new year. After everything that happened last year, technically up should be the only direction. She hopes. Once Nesta feels like she has a hold of her frayed nerves, she slides out of the driver’s seat to find Feyre already excitedly pulling her bags from the trunk, settling them on the pavement next to the car. Elain comes up beside their youngest sister, pulling her own suitcases out.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off closer to your dorm, Elain?”

“I’m in Oakwood this year. It’s not that far a walk.”

Nesta nods, grabbing the last of Feyre’s bags and closing the trunk. Before Elain can wheel off with her bags, Feyre’s wrapping an arm around each of her sisters’ shoulders, a wide smile plastered across her face under her U of P baseball cap.

“The Archeron sisters are back together again!”

“Well, until Nesta graduates,” Elain reminds Feyre.

“Maybe she’ll do a fifth year, just for us.”

Nesta just raises an eyebrow at her sisters’ antics. A fifth year? Impossible. Not only because she takes her studies very seriously, keeping her GPA well above the average, but because the idea of spending an extra, unnecessary year in this place sounds like her own personal circle of hell. The sooner she can finish her degree and get on with the rest of her life, the better.

“Alright,” Feyre concedes. “Bad suggestion.”

With a wave and a promise to meet up for dinner later, Elain is off towards Oakwood Hall. Nesta hoists one of Feyre’s duffle bags onto her shoulder, following her youngest sister toward her own dorm hall. As she steps up onto the sidewalk, though, her shoulder collides with a firm body, Feyre’s bag almost falling out of her grip.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Nesta seethes.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” a voice calls in return, already swallowed up by the groups of students moving in and out of the dorm hall.

Nesta rolls her eyes at the saccharine nickname, resettling the duffle on her shoulder and catching up to Feyre. Her sister’s dorm reminds Nesta of her own freshmen dorm from back in the day, simple and small, all white walls and plain wood furniture. Despite the things already in the room, Feyre’s roommate is nowhere to be seen.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Nesta asks, dropping the bag she had been holding onto Feyre’s bed.

“I should be good. Orientation starts in a few hours.”

A moment passes as the two sisters stare at one another. They aren’t exactly the most affectionate of families, hugging and that sort of thing. So with a small nod and smile, Nesta is on her way, back out of the dorm hall and to her car.

Luckily, the off campus apartment she’s staying in this year isn’t that long a drive, and when she walks through the door, Emerie is already inside, leaning against their kitchen counter, a fork poised between her fingers and what looks like a slice of chocolate cake perched on a plate.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Emerie drawls, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips gives away the teasing nature.

“Hope you brought enough to share,” Nesta replies, eying up Emerie’s plate.

“Do I look like I’m made of money? Go to the dining hall and get your own.”

“When’s Gwyn meant to get in?”

“Not until later this week. I’m surprised you’re on campus this early.”

“Feyre has orientation this week. Plus I need to hit up the bookstore. I have Williams this semester.”

“That man seriously needs to get that stick out of his ass when it comes to having the “right edition” for his class.”

“Tell me about it,” Nesta sighs, sneaking her hand into the utensils drawer and then snagging a bite of Emerie’s cake before the female has a chance to react.

“Hey!” Emerie calls after Nesta as she retreats to her room. “You’re lucky I like you, Nesta Archeron!”

~ * * * ~

The campus bookstore is mostly filled with parents and baby-faced freshmen trying to decide which University of Prythian gear to spend all their money on, but once Nesta pushes back to where the shelves of textbooks live, the throngs of bodies thin out. She can’t help but run her finger along the spines of the books, all lined perfectly along the shelves. Each spine is a different color, a different texture, bold or curvy font declaring its title to the world, and while many are textbooks, that feel under her fingers is still a comfort. Like a heartbeat lives between the soft linen pages and beats in time with her own.

A turn around the corner and Nesta finds the section of books she needs. She scans the different titles, and when her eyes finally land on the one she needs, she can’t help the long sigh that looses from her lungs. Of course, it’s on the very top shelf. Nesta reaches her arm up, stretching up onto her tip-toes until the pads of her fingers just brush the spine of the book, trying to inch the book closer to the edge where she could get it down.

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

Nesta falls back on her heels in surprise, the voice and nickname snagging on her memory. She whips her head around to find a guy leaning against the shelf, arms crossed casually across his chest and a smug smile plastered across his face. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dark curls pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Nesta’s eyes can’t help but snag on the lines of ink dancing across the skin of his arms and peeking out of the open cuts of his bro-tank. When her eyes dance back to his face, his hazel eyes are alight like he had clocked and was delighted in what she had been doing. It makes her brain crash back into action, a scowl settling easily across her features.

“You were the one who bumped into me earlier. Outside of Somerset Hall.”

“That was you?” the guy asks, not even being subtle as he checks Nesta out. “My apologies. Let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner.”

Nesta doesn’t even deen that with a response. With a scoff, she turns back toward the front of the bookstore. She can come back later for the book she needs, ideally when this insufferable man with his cocky grins and overconfidence is nowhere to be seen. As she weaves her way through the shelves and toward the exit, she pointedly ignores the heavy set of footsteps she can hear trailing behind her.

“At least tell me your name.”

“No.”

“No? Well that’s definitely an interesting name. My name’s Cassian by the way.”

“I don’t recall asking.”

“You didn’t have to. Your eyes were asking for you.”

That has Nesta halting in her steps. She whirls around and clearly her sudden stop has this Cassian thrown off, his own steps stumbling. Good. She likes having the upperhand.

“Does that line actually work for you?”

“Actually, I usually have to use less words. My ruggedly handsome looks do all the talking.”

“Rugged? Sure. But handsome?” Nesta pointedly rakes her eyes down his figure, and when they meet back with hazel, Cassian’s cock-sure grin slips the barest hint at the corner. “I don’t think so. You looked like you crawled out of a dumpster.”

Nesta expects his smile to fall fully at the jab, and she hopes it’s enough for him to leave her alone, but instead that smile is still stubbornly there. Even worse, it twists and shifts into a smirk, like this is all some kind of fun game. It makes Nesta’s heart give an extra kick in her chest, and before she can even think about dwelling on what that means, she turns on her heel.

“Goodbye, Cassian.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

~ * * * ~

On Thursday, Nesta finds herself at the dining hall. It’s a little late for breakfast and too early for lunch, so luckily the place is blessedly not too crowded, just a few pockets of students talking and laughing at various tables. She’s standing in front of the pastry display when her phone starts buzzing incessantly, and she slides it out of her pocket to find Feyre going off in their sister group chat.

I just met the most attractive man I have ever seen

I’m not fucking around. HIS FACE

And he called me darling

He asked me to drinks tomorrow night!

“I personally prefer the blueberry muffins.”

Nesta snaps her attention to her left to find Cassian standing there, that same wide and cocky grin from the bookstore settled across his face. His hair is down today, soft curls framing his face and brushing against his cotton tee covered shoulders.

“You again,” Nesta sighs.

“Isn’t it funny how we keep meeting?”

“Funny isn’t the word I would use.”

“It’s almost like the Universe keeps pushing us together.”

“Or you’re stalking me.”

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” Cassian says, tossing a wink Nesta’s way.

“And why would I do that?”

“I thought we already established the fact I’m ruggedly handsome?”

“Pretty sure the only thing we’ve established is that you’re full of yourself.”

Nesta turns and snags one of the wrapped chocolate chip muffins out of the display case, fully prepared to end this conversation and enjoy her snack in peace.

“You forgot something the other day, you know.”

Nesta looks back toward Cassian where he has an outstretched hand between them. There, clutched between his fingers, is the book she went to the campus bookstore to pick up. She blinks a few times at the wide script proclaiming Art Through the Ages, the cogs in her brain tripping over one another and trying to comprehend the sight before her. Her hand begins to reach out to take the book before she snaps it back to her side, her eyes locking back on Cassian’s face.

“You got the book I needed?”

“The perfect excuse to find and talk to you again.”

“Well, I can’t accept it.”

“Then you can Venmo me,” Cassian says, leaning into Nesta’s space and pressing the book into her hands. “And your Venmo will have your name, won’t it? So it’s a win-win.”

This close up, Nesta can see all the green vines and gold flecks that make up his hazel eyes. The way his nose sits just off kilter like it’s been broken and set not quite right and the stubble pushing through along his jawline. She can feel the warmth that seems to radiate off his person in rolling waves. It’s a bit overwhelming.

“It’s Nesta,” she offers, taking a step back.

“Nesta,” Cassian says, like he’s testing the weight of her name on his tongue. “Well, Nesta, how about that dinner? The offer still stands. Or we could skip straight to dessert.”

Nesta lets out a snort at the comment. She’s sure the sound isn’t particularly attractive, but she can’t help it. The audacity of this man.

“Only in your dreams,” Nesta quips, turning on her heel and heading toward the register to pay for her muffin.

“Is that a promise?”

She pretends she doesn’t hear him as she swipes her meal card and makes for the dining hall exit. She can feel Cassian’s eyes tracking her the whole way.

Later, when Nesta gets back to her room and is thumbing through Art Through the Ages, she finds a note folded up between the pages. She opens up the paper to find an unfamiliar scrawl, simple black lines spelling out ‘Cassian’ and ten digits. She hesitates for only a moment before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash.

~ * * * ~

Classes start up on Monday, and Nesta is ready to throw herself back into her books, notes, and work. She has a jammed packed schedule this semester, knocking out the rest of her general education credit requirements needed to graduate on time. The perfect distraction to keep her mind busy. At least, she was able to squeeze in enough classes that actually interest her, including a course on Early Women Writers.

On Tuesday, she walks into the science building and her chemistry class. She finds a lab table a few spots back from the front, settling onto one of the stools. She pulls her textbook and laptop from her bag and is just typing in her laptop password when she feels a presence behind her.

“I guess I should thank you for coming through on your promise. The best dreams I’ve ever had.”

Nesta can’t stop the pained sigh that pulls its way out her lungs. She rubs a hand down her face before turning to the right, just in time to find Cassian sliding into the stool beside her. He has another cotton tee on, his hair once again pulled up into a bun style.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking this class.”

Cassian reaches into his backpack and pulls out his own chemistry textbook, holding it up as some sort of proof.

“The Universe strikes again.”

“So you keep saying, but clearly the Universe has bad taste.”

Cassian throws his head back and laughs at the comment, surprising Nesta with his reaction and earning them a few curious looks from the rest of the class. The sound is deep and warm, seeming to radiate from deep within his chest. His shoulders shake like his large frame isn’t enough to contain the sound, and Nesta finds herself staring at the crinkles that appear beside his eyes.

“Alright, class. Welcome to chemistry.”

A hush falls over the whole room as the professor strides in the door and to the front of the room. She hands a small stack of syllabus sheets to each person sitting at the front to be passed back and a blank seating chart to fill in is passed between the tables. The professor goes through the syllabus for much of the allotted class time, and Nesta makes notes in the margins of hers about the grading system and circles the important deadlines she’ll need to remember.

“I hope you’re comfortable with where you’re sitting and who you’re sitting with,” the professor addresses the class an hour later. “They’ll be your lab partner for the rest of the semester.”

Nesta wants to groan as she buries her face in her hands. How did this become her life? As if simply seeing Cassian’s insufferable face three times a week for this class isn’t enough, now they actually have to interact and work with one another. If Cassian’s theory about this being the Universe's doing is correct, Nesta is pretty sure the Universe is just laughing in her face now.

“Well, would you look at that, Nes,” Cassian drawls from beside her. “Another point for the Universe.”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” Nesta mutters from between her fingers.

“As long as we get to cuddle a little beforehand.”

“Cute,” Nesta says, putting as much dry sarcasm as she can behind the single word.

“You know, lab partner,” Cassian offers while he stands up and slings his backpack across his shoulders. “I think it’s going to be a great semester.”

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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