#FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES THIS IS A JOKE but if it means you play y3 at all then its not

[simpjaes]

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

[anaconamor]

night in - jb blurb.

warm bubble feeling burns your chest as you feel jude place a kiss on your temple, sitting right next to you on the floor, placing your hot drink next to his. “you’re having way to much fun on this,” he teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, while looking at you intently as you finished the second bag of the moana’s flowerpot legos.

“i fear i’m having way too much fun,” you joke back, clicking and connecting the small lego. “you realize these are made for nine year olds right?” he pushed further, helping you separate the legos in piles so you could find the legos easier. “so? i don’t complain when you play fifa at your grown age? screaming like a little girl when you unpack a player?” you defend watching jude open his mouth in shock, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“i’m glad we stayed in. i haven’t seen you much lately and i didn’t want to have just dinner and the call if a night. i love these little moments with you, d’you know? our playlist playing in the back, some baking, maybe cooking? but definitely how i have you all to myself…” jude says, his hand running up and down your spine, making you spin and face him directly where you brush a tamed curl back to already done hair.

“sounds like you just want to keep me for yourself?” you say watching how jude is ready to explain and yap but you cut him off quickly. “i’m kidding. i love staying in dates. especially around this time of your when your season is beginning to get hectic. believe it or not these dates have so much more meanings to when we’re out. i get to see a side of you only i can experience and see, and im so incredibly grateful for that. for you,” you smile leaning into his side where jude shyly looks down.

“don’t get shy with me mister.”

“oh like how you get shy after we-”

“okay so that’s like completely different?” you laugh dismissing the idea that was brewing in his head. “also i get to play house when i’m here. look at this place! the kitchen? the pool? the garden? the garden is my favorite we’ve grown so much in just under a year!” you say excitedly, giving up on the lego set, as now all you wanted was to be next with jude. to feel his safe embrace, his scent, to feel the comfort only he can give.

“those damn bunnies ruined it at first, i swear i was going to insane. i just know they were doing it on purpose after one stared me down as it ate the cherry tomatoes!” jude reclaimed, leaning back against the couch, bringing you to his lap where he traced your bracelet and the tiny tattoo on your thigh. the one of many you had, but this one was jude’s favorite. you didn’t have to tell him, but he could tell it was meant for him.

“to be fair you tormented that poor thing,” you recalled, thinking of the endless possibilities jude did so he could get rid of the bunnies in a happy manner. “it got what it deserved,” jude shrugged, taking a sip of mug, offering one of the infamous pumpkin pilsbury cookies to you.

“what else is on your fall bucket list?”

“we’ve done mostly all besides watching scary movies, visit a pumpkin patch and get a couples costume for trent’s party soon. besides that we’ve knocked everything else out,” you say cheery, the sense of joy never leaving you, knowing you were able to cross off and completely those wishes. “what has been your favorite activity yet?” he asked, tugging on a tiny string from your knitted sweater.

“probably decorating your house for the fall, since it was way to white… that or when we painted the pumpkins with the little kids,” you spoke softy and gently. watching jude’s eyes crinkle from paying attention to remembering the beautiful memory. “i really enjoyed that too, but nothing could beat fright fest,” jude laugh making you shake your head rapidly. t

“jude! i still haven’t forgave you for that! you take us to apparently a theme park and then walking in, there’s horror everywhere. especially those damn clowns…” you say, a tint of nervousness as you spoke out loud. “but i made it up to you,” he pouts, leaning up and pulling your face closer to his. “i won you a plenty stuffed animals and went downstairs for a week to get a glass of water. i was your protector.”

“you always are,” you hug him, your fingers grazing and tracing his ears down to his. “the beard has grown on me. you look very manly,” you say, his hairs tickling your palm. “i was thinking about shaving it soon,” he says, feeling completely relaxed as you touched him. it was that effect you had on him and he loved that so much. no feeling or person could make him feel the way you felt.

“nope. it will take too long for me to get used to,” you deny shaking your head as jude chuckles, grabbing your thighs and placing you on your back, jude not holding back from his physical touch. peppering kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks, your lips then down to your neck where you had another tattoo. your weak spot. “stop it, i know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to show you my love and affection,” he said sarcastically, playing with the fabric on your chest, as he had layed his head gently on you. “yes but you have two meanings towards that… your mom is also right upstairs…” you whisper the last part, afraid of speaking to loudly. this was her house as much as it was his as well. he sighs, accepting defeat and pulling you closer to him. not before pulling you into a kiss that made you want to say fuck it. that damn kiss that forever leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“we should watch a horror movie,” you try to say between his kiss but jude was to focused on you. how you kissed him. how you tasted. feeling weaker but also stronger than ever. “no,” he stoped, this time flipping you over so you could lay on his chest.

“right i forgot. you’re a scaredy cat when it comes-”

“no i’m not! i just don’t want to bring any bad energy in my house,” he cheesed hardly, looking up knowing you were giving him a “are you serious look”.

“the best i can do is watch the nightmare before christmas. take it or leave it,” he shrugged hearing you laugh. “works for me, i’ll hold you tight so you don’t run off,” you teased, jude gasping. “listen the movie is already creepy as it is… especially that little scientist,” he shuddered.

after cleaning up and putting away any mess and cleaning the dishes, instead of traumatizing your tall boyfriend, you settled with his choice of movie. happy either way since you knew jude loved showing you his collection of favorite old films. another part of his love language towards you. you couldn’t count how many times, not just with movies, but items, people even, that meant so much to him.

“are you sleepy?” you whisper, jude nodding. “i am but i want to stay up because i want to spend all the time i can with you,” he yawned, kissing your head. “i can stay the night if that’s okay with you and your mom,” you suggested knowing jude would be immediately agreeing. “my mom adores you and you know she would rather have you stay than leave so late, especially me,” jude said, his thumb drawing circles on your hip.

“i’ll stay,” you smile, cuddling closer to jude as he looked down and smiled. not holding back from taking a picture and posting it, with an old school r&b song. soft launching you once again to the world. which you didn’t mind. “hey, why aren’t we shark boy and lava girl for trent’s party? or-” jude said abruptly.

“i’m leaving.”

“wait no!”

[iamespecter]

TADC OCs: "The Die Quartet"!

"Oh but Ziku, who are these very handsome die?"

Well I'm glad nobody asked, because that would ruin the joke!

The Die Quartet are OCs of mine that I created for TADC, and for what purpose? Well, they're the minds behind show's music!

Hidden just behind a corner or two, or four, These obliviously mischievous and enthusiastic quartet play whatever music they can, one that certainly matches the current "mood" of what the cast is going through. Meet Cuba, Dodeca, Tetra, and Octa, The Amazing Musical Performers, for The Amazing Digital Circus!

LORE AND BOUNDARIES UNDERNEATH THE CUT!

When the Circus was initially created, it was feeling too barren for a place that's meant to be "lively". And so, Caine went and copy-pasted himself four times, while replacing the heads with some die props he found on the floor, retexturing and adjusting their bodies, to fit their new roles.

A little bit of a code rewrite to make them able of producing any sounds all on their own to be musically intertwined, and the quartet was basically ready to go: but there's only one problem.

Caine completely forgot to remove the admin privileges from their code.

So once the four spawned, they immediately began floating around, dancing and creating the main theme for the circus, and did it all perfectly. So Caine decided that as long as they don't interfere with anything major in the circus and did their job as the musical minds behind the show/game's soundtracks, he doesn't really care about fixing this error and would rather let these four run rampant to create more songs.

Ever since then, the Die Quartet has been messing with every circus members, most of the time playing obnoxious music that fits the "current mood". You'll even see their canes dance to the tempo they've set, like some backup dancers.

Think of it like: You now have x4 Caines with dice heads, flying and snooping around, so that they can "improve the mood" with their music! Ain't that swell??

(But really, all they do is just annoy the Circus members just like Caine does, for the better or the worse. Probably the latter.)

Fun facts about the Die Quartet!

Even though they've all been created at the same time and share the features of a die, they do not consider themselves as "brothers", and only see one another as colleagues instead.

Their names are related to the type of their die: Tetra (yellow), Dodeca (purple), Cuba (red), and Octa (green).

Despite being reused assets of Caine himself, they have distinct personalities that separate them from each other: Tetra is more joyful and playful, Dodeca is a more dramatic/theatric and over the top, Cuba is the natural lead and more stern than anybody, and Octa is the more closed off of the gang but willing to provide his best.

Yet, they all still lack awareness of personal space and boundaries just like Caine, and WILL be intrusive towards anyone they set their sights on, with the intent of predicting their mood and setting the current situation perfectly in musical form. (ex. if a character is sneaking, all four will follow "cautiously" behind while one imitates/pulls out a tiny piano playing to the theme of "tip-toeing". You know, like a cartoon gag.)

Although they can perfectly imitate ANY sound or instrument imaginable, They'll still pull out a "physical" instrument if the gag calls for it.

BOUNDARIES!

You can pretty much draw fanart of them! In fact I would REALLY love to see it and I encourage it! Really, just don't claim them as your own, or steal their designs.

NSFW of them is accepted, but please keep in mind that I have an SFW blog. Which means THERE ARE MINORS. Show them to me privately instead, I'd still love to see it <3

While NSFW is accepted (privately), please make it a morally decent one, because I don't really wanna see some disgusting stuff. This pretty much includes: non-con, scat, etc.

Aside from that though, I hope you all enjoyed these four! I really love how they turned out, and would love to draw them more. I was initially hesitant on showing my TADC OCs because I don't think people would like 'em, but fuck it.

My boys, they deserve to be seen even if just by a few people on the internet.

[ma1dita]

not your goddess

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> to see the chaos through | next -> don't blame the kids words: 8k holy shit this is the longest fic for this series so far summary: (established relationship (uhhhh, well…)) The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. Change in perspective is always good, but it makes you and Luke see your futures quite differently—you wonder if you’ll be together in it at all. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: mmmyeah this is a songfic - goddess by laufey. references to waiting for godot by samuel beckett if you squint

—

[ it always goes like this, could've predicted it || i'm so naïve to think you loved me for me, kissed as I ran off stage || you're too old to play this game, guess you're still growing up at thirty nineteen]

Once you open yourself up to someone and bare your soul to them in honesty, they get a choice whether they want to be with you or not. It’s as simple and as convoluted as that. Normal humans are complex as it is—but to be a demigod must mean to endure all of that and then some. Luke has been especially hard to reach lately, and trying to understand him feels like grappling wisps of smoke. You let him build his whole life around you without either of you realizing and suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in. Though maybe he always knew that—Luke Castellan is always intentional, and always full of surprises. 

“We should run away from here.”

His voice breaks through the crunching of dead leaves underfoot on your trek to the stables. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking, even harder to decipher when your eyes meet in the dim light hanging above the Dutch doors that you walk through. 

The two of you move as if partners in an orchestrated dance, the steps routine and not needing instruction; you fill up the water troughs and he steps around you to grab the bag of feed while his other hand grazes your waist, beckoning you to the next task. Most days are like this now, plotted out perfectly from sunrise to sunset. 

To be content means that most of it is predictable, and some might call it boring, but it comes with the inner satisfaction that what the both of you share is only yours. 

It’s peaceful.

Neither of you has ever really had that—and in your own way, both of you want to hold onto it for as long as you have it. Like how comets are always predictable; the knowing doesn’t make them any less beautiful.

“Let’s go now then,” you chuckle lightly, not looking at him as you shut off the hose. Bowie, your pegasus, brays in thanks as he dunks his muzzle into the trough, splashing water at your ankles. The water is frigid, a chill crawling up your spine and when you look up, Luke’s already staring at you solemnly, almost blending in with the shadows that drape over the barn. He stands there leaning against the wooden fence with his sharp, stone-faced features carved out by moonlight.

“Baby?” 

Eyebrows furrowing, you take a step towards him and he’s eerily still, holding a hand out for you. His fingers don’t shake once you intertwine them with your own and he’s so sure of himself that his resolve is like a suit of armor. What a funny thought—him needing protection from you of all people, the girl he lays bare with most nights and who knows him at his most vulnerable. 

“What do you think? Do I look like I’m joking?”

Luke’s words creak like metal hinges—coming off abrasive at the sight of your resistant expression. Truthfully, he hates it when you look at him like this—like there’s something wrong about him that you’re convinced you can fix. You don’t do it on purpose, but he’d like to think that you don’t think of him as one of your little DIY projects. This is different, calculated—his plans for the both of you will map out the rest of your future.

“Are…are you planning to leave?”

Though you hate to make the comparison, he’s a lot like his father: a one-track mind with only him knowing what’s coming next. Luke just expects everyone else to keep up, and you’re left feeling like someone’s pulled the rug out from under you as he holds onto your wrists firmly in the dim light. He’s nervous, even if he doesn’t show it. You can still tell by the way his voice cracks, a melancholy sound like he’s pleading for you to understand a hidden meaning you must’ve missed in the past few months of bliss.

 “We are,” he corrects, before his voice begins to falter, “I mean we can. We…we should,” he says tentatively, and your arms jerk forward with the motion as you stumble into his grasp, “Think of it, babe. We could get out of here and do something great. Make a life for ourselves.”

You squint.

He’s not even asking, and that makes it worse, you think—it’s like he’s already got one foot out the door. You’re not sure if he even considered you possibly saying no.

Are you?

Entertaining frivolous conversations that your boyfriend has with you before bed is one thing—but acting on them? The truth is that you’ve never afforded yourself a future outside of the reality that you have now. You never thought you’d have this after everything—running across the country to find your father and make this family in nowhere New York. It wasn’t a possibility that your 14-year-old self would’ve ever dreamed of. 

But then it happened, and you count your lucky stars that it led you to Luke. This is your home; you built it from the ground up with him the day you both stepped into your roles and washed your hands of stupid pranks. And maybe what you’ve always dreamt of is something you already have now.

Is that a crime? To like your reality better because it’s tangible—not everyone needs to be the main character in a sweeping saga. You do have a life, and you’d like to say it’s pretty alright, all things considered.

“Luke,” you swallow, face scrunching up in the way it does when he knows you’re about to say no, “I mean what about our responsibilities? What about…”

It was cute back when you were fourteen, but he now finds that he hates the way your nose scrunches up when you disagree with something, and it always makes him feel stupid for even asking in the first place. Luke steps away, dropping your hands as he sighs gruffly, “That’s a shit excuse, you know that, babe.” Dust kicks up from under his feet and you think he looks like a child about to throw a tantrum. The pegasi whinny softly behind you, and if they could talk it would probably be something like, Oh shit. Like a flip of a switch, he’s erratic, something pent up inside of him is now uncontrolled.

“I mean what do you want me to say, Luke? You want us to leave? Just disappear and leave Annie and Grover… and my brothers? What then? We don’t have money or degrees, or anywhere to go to—”

“We could make do—I mean we’ve both done it before Trouble, and now we can be together without all this. We don’t need camp. Or the gods’ blessings, I mean what did they ever do for us?” 

He’s tired, you think—because the Luke standing in front of you right now isn’t anything like the one you know. Your Luke loves your campers as much as you do; he’s the type that gives piggyback rides and teaches the little ones how to swim in Canoe Lake. He prays at every mealtime—twice as long because you don’t see the point in it, and likes to fall asleep against your chest in the twinkly lights of cabin 12.

The Luke you know would never want to run away from the home you’ve both created for yourselves. Not without a proper plan. Luke always says that he loves making plans just as much as he loves you, which must mean a lot.

You already have what you want, for now. That’s the contingency of it—for now. You just don’t see it getting better than this; finding camp meant finding yourself, and that’s what your mother always wanted for you. Having a real shot of being a family, even if your dad drives you nuts, and the twins like to fill the bathtub with root beer, and Annie constantly demanding she prove that she knows the first 500 digits of pi comes with the path you chose. 

Family—it’s what you were promised.

“We’re not ready, Luke. I mean… the real world out there is a lot worse than getting a C in archery or avoiding bathroom duty. We’ve still got some growing up to do—what’s the rush?”

He’s testy now—jaw swinging the crick in his neck and he does this when he’s about to say something mean, like the words have to fight their way out of his mouth, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Luke watches you look cluelessly at him like nothing he’s saying is making sense and it’s so frustrating that it makes his head hurt. What happened to you—his free-spirited girl who would follow wherever he leads? You don’t know how crucial this all is—Luke needs to know…

He needs to know if you’ll still follow him wherever he goes, even if it’s away from everything you have here.

But maybe you both imagined growing old together quite differently then.

“You’re making it sound like I’m in over my head about this when I know you don’t like it here. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you,” he bristles, hand leaning over the wooden beam above your head, “This place is getting old. We’re getting old. I want everything with you. Can’t you see that?” It feels like he’s caging you in, and he makes it sound so simple that it makes you laugh.

“Of course I do. All I’m saying is we should think this through more. I mean…We’re demigods. I’m not saying we can’t handle it and I’m not saying no, but—”, you barely finish the sentence before Luke interrupts you again. 

The difficulty with Luke is that when he wants something, he wants it with his entire being. And he never goes down without a fight—even when its with you.

“But you’re not saying yes. Then what are you saying? That you wouldn’t be happy with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you swing yourself out from under his arm and start taking off your apron because clearly, work is not on the agenda tonight. You fling it onto the hook before spinning around to look at him.

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I am happy with you. Here. Where it’s safe. Where we have beds to sleep in and food to eat and the only real reason I have to look over my shoulder is to see if my dad’s bribing your siblings to sneak him alcohol,” you say half-jokingly, and it so badly misses the mark as you see his brows furrow deeper into his forehead. 

“Give me a break,” he seethes, your name rolling out of his lips like acid and he has more to say but doesn’t know if he should. But he’s already started something and you’re just waiting for him to finish it. He has a habit of doing this, rolling the words around in his mouth for dramatic effect. 

This is gonna hurt.

“Oh just spit it out, Luke. Don’t whine like a baby.”

“Your dad? He’s a fucking joke. Can’t stand him half the time and I don’t know how you do,” he starts, pacing around you like a boxer in a ring. You stand still as a statue, eyes lit and tracking him in the dark as he continues, “You know I’m right. He’s just keeping you busy because now that he has you, he wants to control you. And you don’t even get a pat on the back.”

“You do not wanna go there, I can promise you that.”

“Well, I am. Because I’m tired of watching you waste your potential. You used to be so…exciting,” His arms swing around him like feathered wings and Luke shakes his head, turning away from you to look at the moon, “I need you to care about our future too, okay? Cut the shit and be a real fucking person for once and not whatever this little puppet show you put on for your dad is because it drives me crazy sometimes. All the time. I’m losing it, Trouble. Can’t you tell?”

It feels like a blow to the chest and you take a deep breath to placate your feelings in case they’re tampering with his—and you find that the anger is all his own. Your words shoot out like a lit cannon in rebuttal, “This drives you crazy? I didn’t know it was so hard on you, Luke. Poor you, picking up after me when you literally offer to help,” you scoff, stomping over to get him to look at you since he’s so intent on having this conversation, “Do you think you get granted immortality for checking off campers on your attendance log?” He can’t have thought it would be that easy, can’t have imagined you wouldn’t get defensive when things don’t go your way. Because it’s been like that for a while now, and Luke’s been falling off pace with life here. He’s not the all-star golden boy he used to be. Deep down, you know that too; he only likes it here because you do. They say with anything the first year is the hardest—and although he wouldn’t change a thing with your relationship, this took work. Loving you was supposed to be his reward, and it’s as if he doesn’t know you anymore. 

He’s not sure he knows himself that well anymore either.

“Of course not! That’s exactly what I’m saying—all of this won’t help us, so why are we exhausting ourselves instead of focusing on what’s important?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the curls to anchor himself to this argument. And now you just want to strike back, to be damned with the consequences. Real love is a mirror, and although it's your first big fight…sometimes it hurts to be seen better than how you see yourself, and it hurts less to inflict it upon someone else instead of admitting that it hurts you.

“Oh so I’m exhausting to be with, is that it?”

He rips his apron off and tosses it at you, “Yes. Is that what you want me to say? You want a bad guy, you’ll get one. I don’t know what to—” His anger has always brewed like a storm—quiet and rumbling under the surface until he’s ready to strike. It comes down all at once and you’re covered in it with no way out but through. You bat the fabric to the ground angrily.

“You wanna repeat that?”

He laughs, a mocking, snarling sound, “You know what, it makes sense now—you’re just like your father. It all tracks!”

Your jaw tightens, pushing through by giving him another chance, testing him. Daring him.

“You wanna say that again?”

The wind picks up at his feet as he spins around you so fast it almost gives you whiplash, “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He’s tired and angry, but you’ve never seen this other side of him before—this ferocity that was unleashed at the idea of you wanting something he might not. Maybe you both are too similar then, too stubborn to give in until someone breaks.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Castellan. I’m warning you. Just because your dad hates you doesn’t mean that mine does.”

He laughs. 

Luke laughs like you’ve just told him you’ve put Chiron in another dress and that pigs can fly but then he looks at you… He looks at you with his chestnut brown eyes and they’re just empty, boring deep into your soul.

“What happened to you?”

It’s a weird feeling, to know someone so well that you can see the other side of them they can’t see for themselves. You haven’t got a single clue.

“I grew up. You were there, Luke. You helped me do it. I wanted to be just like you—the role model, the one that people like, and what, now that I'm not just some crazy idea in your head you’re bored?” 

Your voice cracks and so does a piece of Luke’s heart. You’re too tenderhearted, too good for him, and everything about you sends shockwaves through his being. This is what he told Kronos—even if you had it in you to force the gods to kneel and listen, would you be able to make the jump? Luke blinks, tuning back into your words.

“I mean you’re not even asking. It seems like you’ve made your decision for us. What does that mean to you? Us?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat. His apology feels heavier than it should, and you can’t figure out why. He won’t let you find out if he even means it. 

“No, you’re not. You don’t even know what you’re sorry for, and now as soon as we’re happy, you get bored. You wanna talk about fathers, you’re just like yours too. Happy?” 

The words come out almost explosive, a shot in the dark and you didn’t think you’d say it, but you did. Thoughtless, without care, until it sinks into him like a sharp blade. Luke’s face hardens and you’re not sure how long he’s been standing so far away.

“Are we?”

It’s almost lights out and you’re still here arguing with Luke, so today was not as predictable as you thought it would be. Unease grips you by the scrap of your neck like a merciless kitten, holding on for dear life. This isn’t a feeling you should associate with the love of your life.

“What did you say?”

“Like you said, we’re demigods,” he says whispering your name, “what do we do now that we’re happy? That usually means something worse is coming up ahead.” Luke scoffs, half in disbelief at his own realization, the other half in defeat, “We’re meant for more than just being happy—that…this isn’t enough. We’re meant for glory, not shoveling pegasi shit and taking care of children instead of planning for a future with our own. This shouldn’t be the end of us.”

Your lip quivers, tongue in cheek and you need to touch something, hold someone, to remind yourself that this is happening. But you don’t reach out to him because if you get too close he’ll see the tears in your eyes. Grabbing the dandy brush, you trudge over to Bowie and rake it through his hair, mumbling, “I’m happy. I’ve got you,” you swallow, turning to Luke, “I love you.”

He’s already in the doorway, swinging the bottom panel closed with his hip as he looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bowie brays next to you and it sounds like someone blowing a raspberry when they’re tired of a situation—maybe you are going crazy and they do understand—but one thing you do know is that you can’t understand Luke right now. 

The truth is that love is a bunch of horseshit, really.

[ oh, were you surprised by me when you took me home? || When the glamour wore off, reduced to skin and bone || i can't even tell who you want to know || i'm a goddess on stage, human when we're alone]

Your knees hit the dirt again, falling forward onto your hands as you dry heave. In the blink of an eye, you feel Maimer resting against the apex of your neck.

“Yield.”

Clarisse La Rue has barely broken a sweat during this spar, and yet here you are at her feet feeling like today’s breakfast will make a reappearance on the arena floor. The younger girl rolls her eyes as she pulls you up by the leather strap of your chest plate, sighing at the unnatural pallor of your skin as she flops onto a bench with your dead weight following suit as your knees buckle.

“You know, I knew you said you were bad at this, but are you even trying?” she scoffs, throwing a water bottle at you that you fumble in your hands. Winning never feels as good when the other person isn’t putting up a fight. You gulp down the icy refreshment, shutting your eyes for a moment to escape the blinding sun as you mutter, “Never been a fighter unless necessary, Risse. That’s all you.”

“Alright, enough of this.”

Your eyes wrench open as you lean back on your forearms to look at the daughter of Ares. At thirteen, she’s a force of nature on her own and unlike anyone else at camp, Clarisse would never mince her words for the sake of others’ feelings. You needed someone to tell it to you straight.

“You know everyone can tell when you and Luke fight, right? I mean it rarely happens but when it does it always feels like the world is out of balance until you both fix it.”

You groan, throwing your arm over your face and unintentionally hiding from her. That couldn’t be true—the world does not revolve around whether or not a daughter of Dionysus and a son of Hermes had their shit together.

But Camp Half-Blood does.

“You’re lying, La Rue. It’s really not that deep.”

And then she looks at you like you’re stupid, which might be her customary expression for anyone else but to you—well, she at least respects you. For now, unless you keep whining like a badly written love interest.

“Gods, woman. You were so much cooler back then, what the hell happened to you?”

“Clarisse, it isn’t that easy—-” you grumble, putting your face in your hands as you stare at the dirt. Of course, you know that everyone knows, secrets run through Camp Half-Blood like running water. It slips through your fingers easily, soaking through the ground until everyone’s stuck in the mud. Your boots sink slightly into the softening earth and Clarisse realizes you’re crying before you do. 

Why the fuck are you crying? 

It was a stupid argument and it probably doesn’t mean anything but for once, you don’t know what to do. It feels stupid that your body decided to cry before your brain could come to the conclusion. This all feels so stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, weirdo,” she mumbles, unsure of what to do with a crying head counselor. Her calloused hands rub small circles into your back, and she can’t help but think you need more girlfriends your age. Scooting closer to you, she says, “What I meant was that you were way cooler when you didn’t give a shit about what people think about you, much less Luke Castellan. You’re starting to sound like you’re from 10, and I swear Sil is the only tolerable person from that cabin. Stop crying, please…”

You sniff, “Ugh… This is so dumb. Just lost myself for a second.” The statement rings true, and it bothers you more than you thought it would. There is so much more to you than playing the part of the agreeable girlfriend, the caretaker, the perfect daughter, that if you stared at yourself in the mirror you might not recognize who’s staring back. So many parts to play, and so little of you left.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is,” Clarisse sighs, “and I’m no good at this feelings shit, but I think you need to remember that you’re allowed to be someone without him…without all of this. And you owe it to yourself to find out who that is.” You look up at her with watery eyes, tucking hair behind your ear as if it’ll help you absorb her words better. 

You can’t believe you’re getting sound advice from a thirteen-year-old, much less a child of Ares on matters of love. 

“It’s nice to be needed,” you mumble, “my greatest honor, I think. But it might also be my downfall.” 

Clarisse smiles crookedly like she’s watching you through a fresh set of eyes. There’ll be no words of this conversation once you leave the arena—the both of you have a friendship unlike most girls here at camp. Never touchy-feely, typical girl talk, but always what you need to hear. 

“How terrifyingly human of you. Yuck.”

“I can’t go on like this,” you groan, slumping further into your folded-over position and she sighs, going to take a sip from her water bottle before squeezing your shoulder.

“That’s what you think.”

[ you took a star to bed, woke up with me instеad || you must have felt so damn decеived when you made up a version of me that you thought you loved || but I am not your Aphrodite ]

When you were fifteen years old and he was just a month shy of it, you had somehow convinced Luke Castellan to run away from camp with you. 

This was back then. Just for a day—just for the tiniest taste of freedom. 

Luke had been at camp for almost a year, and Rye Playland sounded so much cooler than food service with the nymphs—which is one of the few things he would agree with you on. The both of you had kitchen duty for two weeks after getting caught attacking each other during Capture the Flag despite being on the same team, and it ended up with you ripping the fabric off the stick and chucking it into the middle of Canoe Lake. He’s lucky you didn’t lunge for his head, but the game was forfeit, and cabin 6 didn’t talk to you two for weeks because you threw the game. Including Annie, which was a surprising feat in itself.

After that day, you swore to never do anything Luke made himself in charge of and Chiron swore you two would never be on the same team again. You could remember D’s voice that day and how it boomed through the Big House, reminiscent of his father—a crackle of fury and impalpable seriousness that had Luke shaking slack-jawed in the chairs facing the mahogany desk. He’d never been told off by a parent before, much less an Olympian.

Taking it in stride even as the god threatened to turn you both into dolphins, you mimed the conversation when your father’s back turned, copying the odd quirk in D’s brow and conjuring a mouthful of grapes for teeth. You grinned at the son of Hermes like an idiot, a singular ripe sphere shooting out to make an audible thwack against D’s red Hawaiian shirt that made Luke laugh the loudest, ugliest guffaw you’ve ever heard him let out. He choked on his spit when the god jerked his head back to face the both of you like a comic-book villain.

Honestly, he might’ve peed himself a little. Just a tiny bit.

And the god of insanity himself was at his wits’ end—which is rare for him, very few things can get him to that point. Even less so with people. Pathetic, puny, little people he can drive to madness and violent death. 

But not his baby girl—you know every last nerve to step on, a lot like your mother sure, but still all him in every way it mattered. He loved it, even when he was mad at you like this. He just wasn’t good at showing it, and you knew that to some extent. Plus, you can’t take a man in a Hawaiian shirt seriously, much less a god.

So you and your self-proclaimed archnemesis (frenemy, Luke insists) find yourselves running down Farm Road before first light, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind you as you rush to catch the LIRR at a stop two towns over.

It was a small amusement park filled with different money-grabbing oddities, tooth-rotting confections, and rickety, squeaking rides that the conductors could fold into suitcases at the end of the day.

Sketchy, but so much fun. You made Luke go on all the kiddie rides with you and screamed your head off like a lunatic; he apologized to the parents of a toddler and said you had too much sugar—but that was a lie, this was all you in your natural state. Berry chapstick, wind-tousled hair, and a smile brighter than a spotlight. And your laughter, oh, your laughter shook the walls of the funhouse even after you crashed into the fifth mirror being too busy poking fun at the wonder in Luke’s eyes because it was the first time he’s genuinely done something for fun and not out of necessity. It was nice, and so were you, for once.

It was the first time you’d let your guard down for him, he thinks back—watching you toss a ball so badly off target from milk bottles set across the booth. You twisted in his grasp (he doesn’t remember getting so close, Luke still swears he was trying to help you aim) pouting at him with those pretty plum eyes and he sighed so deeply you smelled the cotton candy on his breath. For a moment you wondered if he tasted like it too—and then the worker asked if you’ll be trying again and you went, “Hmm? Maybe he’d be better at it!”

Luke rigged the shot with the snap of his finger, all the milk bottles falling to the ground with a crash and he swore on his life he’d sell out every single one of these stupid games if it gets you to bite your lip at him like that again.

There isn’t a single hint of regret that passed that entire day—you were already in trouble, so you both figured that you might as well enjoy it. By late afternoon, your legs felt like jelly and it felt less like you dragging him around the fairgrounds and more like holding onto him for support (because there’d be no other reason you’d want to hold his hand, your stomach just felt funny…that’s all!) Luke was wolfing down a funnel cake, the powdered sugar dust getting all over his shirt and he looked up to see you staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

Hand pointed in the air, Luke simply shakes his head.

“Fuck no.”

But you always had a way of convincing him to do things (Luke is a sucker susceptible to double dog dares) and the both of you are surprised he let you because sooner rather than later, you’re sat knee to knee in a tiny, screeching Ferris wheel cart that inched 100 feet into the sky. The white paint was peeling at his fingertips and the air was warm—Luke tried to focus on that instead of the fact that he was in a metal death chamber in the sky.

“Never imagined a son of Hermes would be scared of heights,” you grinned, nudging him with your foot. You’ve folded into yourself, hugging your knees as you looked at him and he thought that he might be having a heart attack at the ripe age of fourteen and three-quarters. But the pink and purple rays of the waning sun framed you so nicely that he wished he brought a camera—he had the silly photobooth strips from earlier tucked into his pocket, but you looking like that; Luke had etched it into his memory for safekeeping. Not only was he able to breathe a bit easier, but if there was a memory he could materialize from today—it’d be you grinning maniacally through the bars of the cart, pointing at the city in the distance. 

“We’ve finally found something you’re not good at, golden boy,” you grinned, tilting your head to the side and inspecting him like he was a sad hamster in a glass ball.

“M’not scared of heights, I'm just scared of falling,” he reasoned, looking at the rusted floor. You were making your boots dance along to the beat of the fair music, tapping along to the cyclical rhythm. He was more scared of the lack of control he had at this moment—any of the other crazy rides, Luke had stood at the tiny gate next to the conductor holding the plush avocado he won for you, watching and hearing you scream for joy as the machines flung you into the air. The ones he did go on were relatively tamer, and by the third kiddie coaster, he realized that you probably whooped for joy just to make him feel better.

You kissed him on the cheek that day, so close to his mouth (but not close enough) when the Ferris wheel ultimately screeched to a stop. A necessary distraction, you said—but you weren’t sure for who. He tasted sugar-sweet and smelled like the late summer sun. You had never kissed a boy before, unsure if you’d even know how, or if Luke would even want to if you did.

The thought passed when you realized his fingers were clenched and white-tipped onto the guardrails and you…you’re terrible, so you started rocking back and forth, giggling until he yelled at you to stop, pulling you into his lap. 

The conductor thought you two were doing something way less innocent, and you both got kicked out of Rye Playland afterward—but you got your money’s worth.

Well, you both snuck in and Luke definitely pickpocketed someone’s mom.

All in all, it was a great day.

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way back home, the Long Island Railroad car chilly with the AC. Watching you drool, he thought he might even like traveling again if it’s for fun like this, might even hate his dad less too. Luke threw his whole dinner into the hearth that night with a bright smile on his face even after Mr. D yelled at the both of you in front of everyone at the dining pavilion. After all, the only factor in his life that’s changed in the past year, an addition, if you must— was you.

[ you took me for a fool, you stole my youth, you wanted this so much || you watched me rise then killed my light || and now you know I'm not your fucking goddess ||  oh, i'm no goddess when i'm alone ]

Work is work.

That’s what you’ve both been telling yourselves throughout an already rough week gone even worse, but trying to avoid your significant other is an especially difficult task when you work together. 

It’s the simple truth—you can’t ignore someone you have to talk to primarily because of these two factors: 1. Capture the Flag teams need to be sorted by Thursday mornings to be ready to play on Friday afternoons, and 2. it is weird for campers to see you two not interacting with each other.

Well, it’s Friday now, and you and Luke haven’t talked since that argument in the barn. 

Kind of, but the times you have didn’t count—the past few days have been both of you talking around other people; not directly to each other. Last night at dinner, Chris stared at you like one does when their parents are thinking of getting a divorce, eyes flickering between you two and his cheeseburger. Luke was sitting next to you on the bench blankly picking the tomatoes off his sandwich and you were staring glumly at your slice of pizza.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

He was one of the few brave enough to be blunt about it. You and Luke were all-consuming, like a black hole. It’s hard for others not to notice the gravitational pull, but when it’s bad…. everyone and everything gets sucked in, whether they like it or not. 

“Lee was excited to hear that your cabin is teaming up with them tomorrow. It’ll be quite interesting, all of you with 7 and 9,” you said, wiping grease off the slice with a napkin. Luke’s head jerked in your direction at your words, “Dude what—Chris! I thought I signed off on working with 6? We don’t work with Apollo for a reason,” he hissed, leaning over the table towards his brother. Chris scratched the back of his neck, knowing Luke was right. Cabin 7 isn’t that good in all matters that involve stealth—the last time they worked with them, Austin was scatting under his breath and it got them ambushed by the red team. Opening his mouth to speak, you quickly interjected, “Well it’s about time to change it up—keeps things exciting, don’t you think, Chris?”

Luke sighed, redirecting his brother’s focus to him, “What do you think, man? I just think when it comes to battle strategies we should stick to what works.” Chris swallowed, raising his hand in the air; he was grappling at the edge of a cliff just trying to hold on to either of you—he looked around to see if there was a way out of this. Next to him, Ethan averted his eyes and played with his carrot sticks.

“Funny how that works for battle strategies and not other things,” you hummed around a mouthful of pizza, “Don’t you think, Chris? I just think that you never want to be predictable in these things. It makes everything boring. Or so I’ve heard,” you munched thoughtfully, daring the son of Hermes to break eye contact with you as Luke scoffed, tossing his napkin onto his plate before standing up. He walked off without a second glance, throwing everything into the hearth—plastic tray included, and stormed off toward the cabins. The rest of the table minded their business, shoveling food into their mouths. Chris choked on a french fry.

And you smirked, satisfied at the small win. 

But now, almost a day later tramping through the sodden dirt of the North Woods in heavy body armor, you remind yourself that it is so very hard to prove a point to Luke Castellan. He finds you halfway through the game as you hold onto the red flag post, standing tall at the vantage point and looking like a stone grotesque protecting the area you’re surveying. By the time you notice, a blur of cobalt whizzes towards you—knocking out the three Ares kids standing guard around the perimeter. You gasp, raising a hand sending vines hurtling toward the air until you see him hanging upside down by the ankles, wrapped in green leaves and purple bunches of grapes. Luke’s headwear falls to the earth with a clang.

“I’m not here for the flag!”

You rush over, dropping the pole and sighing, “Luke…you scared me! I thought you were with Beck today.” The blood rushes to his head as he looks at you all out of focus. Seeing you the other way around gives him a new perspective on things—the epiphany almost makes him ache, but that might also be the pressure pooling in his forehead. You brush your thumb against his cheek before letting him down slowly, and all he does is look at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Like, actually this time?” you mumble, hugging yourself as you watch the vines unravel from his limbs and sink back into the ground. You’ve always been a good actress and Luke was the best liar around—this shared penchant for fabricating the truth used to make you one and the same.

It is more obvious now that actors and liars are wholly different; actors live in an imaginary world given to them, while liars strive to create it for themselves. There’s that saying—don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Luke finds that he’s starting to hate all of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “we can’t keep ignoring this, Trouble.” It takes a special kind of sadness to feel lonely even when you’re with someone. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your spirit sink into the ground below you, almost resigning yourself to what will happen next. All the petty backtalk, the times you’ve crawled into bed with him already pretending to be asleep— it all comes down to this. There’s this French word that Annie had taught you a few days ago when you spent extra time snuggled up in her bunk, partially to catch up with your favorite girl and partially… to waste more time before going home to him. 

Énouement—-The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future and seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

“Luke…” you start, watching him sheath Backbiter with a casual flick of his hand, “Would you go back if you could? Before…” Barely able to string your words together, he notices your lip quivering, “Did you like me more back then?”

“Baby…” he sighs, going to wrap his arms around you and you hold onto him in return at arm's length.

“I’m really trying…” you choke out, pressing your lips to hold in the onslaught of things you want to say. To understand? To apologize? The words die out on your tongue.

“I know. You’re always trying, Trouble. That might just be the saddest part.”

Wind whirls through your hair, pushing you against him for shelter as you gather your thoughts. In the silence of the woods, you wonder how many moments you’ve spent drawn to him like this for comfort. Luke’s always there for you, whether you like it or not. For better or worse—you wonder if there won’t be a lot of chances to hold and be held, and you can’t seem to let go.

“I didn’t change, okay? I’m still me. People don’t change, just like the gods don’t. I just don’t see us away from this,” you swallow, tracing a finger over his bicep to distract your burning eyes, “we can’t escape who we are Luke. Me and you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

He lets out a sigh and you know his answer; his shoulders sink low enough that your hold on him loosens ever so slightly. At this rate, you think it’d be easier if he’d just pull the trigger—maybe it would hurt less than this.

“I’ll change the gods’ minds and make them agree. They’ll know us, babe. The glory—”

Everything around you blurs as you hone in on your anger. This whole forest could go up in flames and you wouldn’t give a damn,”Oh FUCK glory! Just love me and that’s enough! Why can’t that be enough? Why can’t you stop running from me for once, Luke!” Your plea comes out like a wail and you push him away, feeling disgusted by what’s come of this conversation. You were never a beggar—the only thing left to do was kneel in the dirt and beg him not to break up with you. Before you can think of the irrational thought any further he shakes his head, almost growling, “How do you still not get it? It’s because I love you is why I can’t.”

“Listen, I love you too, babe. I just…don’t know if I like you right now.”

That’s not fair. He’s sacrificing the entire trajectory of his life and you can’t figure out if you like him? You don’t know the lengths he would go to, can’t fathom the obstacles he would conquer just to make sure that you and him have it all. And you’re not even trying to see it his way—to even imagine that he could make it possible.

Things couldn’t stay the same forever, that you could both agree on.

“You’re all talk, you know that, Trouble? You’re just mad that I want this life more than you. And you know I’d actually do what I need to do to get it. Would you?” he nudges you roughly, “Talk to me! This is your time to get it all out of your system. Say that I wouldn’t do anything for you. You know I would.” Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks; he hates watching you cry. It’s the whole reason he signed away his soul—he wants the world you live in to be a place where gods bow down to you and dry your tears, not cause them. Luke would topple Olympus in an instant if it meant you wouldn’t look at him like he’s a lost cause.

“That’s not fair, you haven’t even answered a single question I’ve asked you. It’s like you’re not even listening to me, Lu—”

“Not fair?”

Groaning, you turn away from him. The flag post you dropped earlier is long gone now—the game is still on and the world keeps spinning whether you like it or not. But you’re disinterested in all that now.

“Do you even hear yourself? To you, I’m still the girl on the Ferris wheel,” you sniff, wiping your nose with your sleeve. His hands squeeze your shoulders, begging, pleading for you to understand, “Is that a bad thing? You tell me you haven’t changed—I’m protecting her because you won’t. I’m getting her the hell out of here because I know she deserves more than this. Look around you,” he whispers your name against your neck, “We could forget all of this.” 

But that’s just not who you are. Your shoulders tremble as you hold them up under the pressure. Sure you could see what he’s saying—there isn’t a single future you can imagine without Luke in it. The house, the kids…but more than that you just want to belong somewhere. And Camp Half-Blood is where you belong. With him. 

“I don’t want everything, Luke. I just want you. And if you don’t want this, I need you to tell me now. Because I’m tired,” you warble, digging your nails into your palms, “ and I’m sick of this game. I feel like neither of us are winning.” You take a step back to look at him—sunlight filtering through his hair, eyes wistful and contemplative.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

And there it is. He’s already made his decision, whether he admits it or not. A horn blares overhead, followed by the sounds of cheering. You don’t know who won, and you don’t really give a shit if we’re being real right now. 

“Does it even matter?”

There’s a frozen look on your face like you’ve been struck by lightning, half between a crooked smile and subtle surprise. It’s a knowing look, Luke thinks, what he can see of you through half-lidded lashes and grief. He thinks years from now, if he even makes it that far, it’ll all come back to this moment in the North Woods, and you, the girl he was in love with at nineteen.

“It’s not even worth it now I guess,” he whispers. It makes you laugh—even your laughter sounds sad now. 

It seems that even breaking up with you is an inconvenience.

You sniff, wiping your face and looking around. Everyone’s gone already and Chiron will be looking for you two soon, “Then it’s not worth it. Because you say so… and we’ve got work to do.” Your watch beeps. 

Dinner service starts soon, but before you both head over to the pavilion, you and Luke are expected to set up the bonfire. He nods, loosening the straps of his chestplate, just something to do with his hands, “I know.”

“I don’t want to go. I’m not ready to leave this all behind yet. I’m still needed here.” Until your coming of age ceremony. Until your heart calls you elsewhere and your family can stand on their feet. 

Until then.

Somewhere, you hear Annabeth calling out to you, the melody of both of your names traveling through the trees. You and Luke turn your heads in that direction, before looking at each other once more. He licks his lips, “I know that. We should get back to it, then.” There’s no use doing this all alone, he thinks. And there’s a part of you that thinks there is no use for you when you’re alone.

“We should.”

Neither of you move. 

The winter solstice is tomorrow and there is much work left for the both of you to do.

—

I don’t understand how he grows colder from the same love that warms me. I didn’t know we loved differently—him partly, less and less, and I entirely. - JNH / @shatteredjuvenileday

[bonbonly]

college au! daniel.. people (me) died.. i LOVE college/uni au’s so lord, sign me up. especially because i actually have my own variation of student! daniel brewing.. nsfw obvi but.. another au about it? tell me more 🫵

no em omg because i have this WHOLE idea it's crazy, lemme drop a thot - i mean erm, thought

bon's thoughts (18+) (exhibition, p in v, calling reader a whore/slut, i got carried away again lol)

collegeau! daniel ricciardo is definitely your best friend. the both of you constantly have to leave lecture halls because he keeps acting like he's in high school, throwing a pencil at you and leaning in to whisper some crude joke about whatever you were learning in class. you have to clamp a hand over your mouth and snicker quietly.

it's like having two class clowns in class, one is clearly trying to do everything he can to get expelled, and the other (you) is still trying to focus on your classes while doing something that has the whole class laughing. and so it becomes a game between danny and you, who's going to outdo each other in class and make each other break first. the challenge would start in a week, and danny wiggled his brows and with a haughty look loudly declared that he was def going to win.

most of the days follow you biting into your knuckles to not laugh out loud, or danny burying his face in his hands, his body shaking as he tries everything he could to not let the giggles out. surprisingly, danny breaks first and it wasn't even in front of the class.

he joined you in the library after he finished playing basketball with his friends. his cap on backwards, his sweat stained shirt dampened just enough so you could see the outlines of his abs. you scoffed, going back to your notes because "playtime was over daniel" but when he took off his shirt and tossed it at you because he knew how you hated the smell of sweat, you rolled your eyes and said "ok whore"

and that made him laugh out loud with wide eyes, "e-excuse me?" he asked, which had you giggling. there's a dark glint in his eyes that you failed to notice, his big grin seemed to mask all his intentions.

that little game you had now transformed into something else. you were still trying to out-do each other, but in a very different way. daniel would purposely roll up the sleeves of his white tee for your friends to ogle at his glistening arms after an intense workout. you'd wear an extremely tight jumpsuit when you offered to bring him his homework in front of his friends. daniel, being impressed, decided to go even further one day and undressed down to his boxers in front of your group of girls when they were loitering behind the bleachers to look at the athletes. he flashed a smile at you, waving innocently despite the unimpressed look you gave him. he was starting to annoy you now, because all your friends could only talk about daniel! daniel's so hot, daniel's so funny, did you see daniel the other day? he had his hands in his curls, i wanna tug his curls when he's-

and your resolve snapped, so you decided to put your entire life into winning this challenge once and for all. it was daniel's birthday and he invited all his friends and even for your friends to his house! you weren't really the type to stay up that late, so he wasn't really expecting you to show up. and then his eyes widen at the sight of you in that red crop top, he could see a glimpse of your underboobs and the tiniest mini-skirt to match. when you bent over, he could see that you weren't wearing panties.

ok whore, he thinks to himself, a massive smirk on his face. you really outdid him tonight.

so when his friends, all drunk out of their minds, decide to get a bit too handsy with you, daniel chuckles and pulls you upstairs to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"ok who won?" he asks, and you pretend to not know what he's talking about.

"won what?"

"our challenge? because im ready to let you be the winner," he throws his hands in the air, taking defeat. you frown, usually daniel was all about winning.

"and why do you want me to be the winner?" you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"because i'm so fucking hard right now, and if my friends even dare touch you, i might fuck you right in front of them," daniel exclaims, glaring at you to even dare think about messing with his friends. he should know you by now, though. you've been best friends for years. and that smirk you had wasn't really convincing him that you'd pass up on his threat.

"i guess you won then, ah fuck, sweetheart," daniel groans as he has you bouncing his cock, facing his friends who are cheering him on. your crop top is torn to shreds on the ground, and daniel's hands roll your nipples, loving the way you whine out loud. he scowls at one of his friends who gets a bit too close for his liking and his hands fall down to grab your hips, bucking his hips harder and faster, "fuck, she's mine, and only mine. she's my fucking slut, nobody touches her except for me."

his words only spur you on, and pretty soon you're cumming around his cock which is still bullying into you at an ungodly pace. you have nothing to hold on to, and your head falls back onto his shoulder as he continues his abuse, "fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so good, fuck i should've done this a long time ago. we were too busy cracking jokes huh?"

you can't even respond because now he's rubbing hard circles on your oversensitive clit, ensuring that you orgasm once more. you shake your head, trying to squirm away but he clicks his tongue, shaking his head mockingly, "ah, ah, ah, baby, you wanted this remember? show my friends how you're gonna milk my cock again, show them how much you love me, show them what my best friend is gifting me for my birthday"

you're screaming as you cum for the second time, and daniel's peppering kisses onto your cheek, reminding you that you still had the entire night to celebrate his birthday AND your win.

[maximumqueer]

Ok, so I got to (and past) ep. 26 of Witchlight, where Gideon is hit with a fey love curse which has him be head over heels in love with Kremy. And it just has me thinking about how vastly different the two of them reacted to being fey cursed to be in love with the other (though we all know they are in love without the fey curse) and what that says about them as people, as well as the way that they view relationships.

When Kremy was under the effects of the fey curse, he was dead set on making sure Gideon (or anybody really) did not find out about him being in love. He, for all intents and purposes, did not act all that differently that he would have other than being more outwardly jealous of the fact that Gideon was marrying other people. (Richie saying "I know" with that smug look in his face will live rent free in my mind forever). This says a lot about Kremy, and the way he views romantic (or even just more intimate) relationships. He is so full of shame and insecurity at the prospect of being in love of Gideon that it all has to be done through a false lens of irony. And I think that is because Kremy, at the end of the day, is a conniving conman. He views relationships as advantageous. He is so clearly afraid of vulnerably that, even when under the effect of a love curse, is still trying his best to not let on that he is in love. (I also think this points to him actually being in love with Gideon, as it does not completely alter his behavior). He needs to maintain control on his feelings in order to be in control of every situation he is in, so that he can exploit the people he needs to, as well as make himself as un-exploitable as possible. Obviously he is friends with Gideon, Gricko, and Frost, but I can't help but believe that the trust we see him have in them was built slowly over years. Just look at the way he views Torbek earlier on. And as such, admitting that the relationship he has with Gideon goes deeper, and is more intimate that just friends and business partners, is a (nearly) impossible task for Kremy, as he does not want to feel or be viewed as vulnerable.

With Gideon, the second he gets cursed, he immediately goes all in. He says that he loves Kremy, that he is happy they are married, and goes out of his way to touch him, be close to him, compliment him. Now, this is more distinctly different from how Gideon usually behaves around Kremy, but I don't necessarily think that means that his love is completely fake. I do think, however, that it means that Gideon is unaware of the full extent of his feelings when it comes to Kremy. Because, while it was said in a joking manner, I believe that there is some truth to the claim that Gideon has commitment issues. Not in the sense that he is or ever would be unfaithful in a more committed relationship, but rather that some wires got crossed in his head (thanks to the years and years of trauma from the fucking train) and that he now views being 'tied down' to one individual in a romantic sense in a similar way as being imprisoned. He wants freedom, he doesn't want to feel beholden to a single person. And obviously this is an unhealthy way to view relationships, as a healthy one will not make you feel like you are being caged. But this does not seem to be based off of experience for Gideon, as all of his 'romantic' exploits seem to have been causal hookups that may end in him getting shotgun married and then immediately cutting town, but nothing more. It is the concept of romantic commitment that Gideon does not like, not the actual act of commitment itself. Because he IS committed to Kremy, and he has no qualms with being 'tied down' to Kremy in this way. As such, he doesn't view his feelings as being anything other than platonic, as he expects romance to feel like a cage. Until he gets slapped with fey magic, and those feelings about commitment temporarily go away.

Basically this is a really long way of saying that I LOVE how Richie and Mace both decided to play their characters being (explicitly) in love with the other. It makes for beautiful (and very funny) character work and gives us, the audience, a bit more insight into the dumbass minds (affectionate) of Kremy and Gideon.

[astonmartinii]

hi, i was wondering if you could do one of y/n dating carlos but people start realizing she flirting with charles in the comments, at the beginning in a very discreet way, but after a while she and carlos break up and when the new season starts she’s with charles

all is fair in love and war | charles leclerc instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

y/n is happy in her relationship with carlos but all that time in the ferrari garage might have her eye wandering

(obvs no intentions to demonise anyone, this is a work of fiction and purely for entertainment purposes)

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 55,607 others

tagged: yourbff1, yourbff2

yourusername: no one i'd rather play mermaids with than you two xx

view all 9,231 comments

yourbff1 always the best time with you guys <3

yourbff2 platonic soulmates for real

carlossainz55 my pretty lady

yourusername thank you baby

charles_leclerc i thought i was your baby ?

yourusername just cause you act like a baby doesn't make you mine x

user5 what is going on here lol

user12 not them flirting under her own boyfriend's comment i can't

user34 god i wish i was her

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 112,309 others

carlossainz55: let's go spa - the second half of the season is a go!

view all 13,405 comments

scuderiaferrari let's go smooth operator

yourusername good luck baby

charles_leclerc where's my good luck

yourusername i'm literally sat with you right now

user33 the hair routine is a need not a want

user19 charles and y/n once again flirting in the comments - am i the only one who finds it weird?

uer13 i mean a bit? but also like the comments are clearly jokes

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 452,091 others

charles_leclerc: monza ready 🇮🇹

view all 14,562 comments

pierregasly you clean up well calmar

yourusername part time driver, full time model

charles_leclerc you'd know all about being a model

user48 i know there's weird vibes with carlos and y/n but like as far as we know they're still together so ^^^ that is still weird

user20 call me a bad person but i want charles and y/n to get togetehr

user1 no cause their vibes have always seemed much more suited than hers and carlos

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff1 and 60,076 others

yourusername: the only man i'll ever need is mauricio (even if his hair has ruined 50% of my wardrobe)

view all 11,066 comments

user47 this caption... something is off

user60 carlos hasn't liked either and he just posted on his story so he's been active on the app

charles_leclerc but does mauricio have a boat?

yourusername you got him there

user8 okay but like at this point does she just come with the ferrari seat?

user3 tbf i wish i could be with both carlos and charles

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 223,098 others

carlossainz55: time well spent with family ❤️

view all 15,203 comments

user44 okay i'm going full conspiracy mode, but y/n has always visited carlos' family with him and the fact she's not been seen at a race since she was left at the airport... i think they've broken up

user11 noooo they were my faves but i think you might be right :(

scuderiaferrari can't wait to see them back in the garage

landonorris where was my invite?

user2 y/n rn^

f1wagsupdates

liked by user1, user2 and 220 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc

f1wagsupdates: charles and y/n y/ln seen together in abu dhabi - this comes just weeks after her and carlos' break up... do we think that all those flirty comments mean they did actually cheat?

view all 13 comments

user35 they defo cheated but it's also charles so like i'd also be tempted

yourusername people can just be friends you know

user45 so true !! also like carlos has already been spotted with a new girl multiple times all the way back to when he left her at the airport, but for some reason he's the victim ???

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff1 and 61,207 others

tagged: yourbff1

yourusername: despite popular belief i am a single woman

view all 10,455 comments

charles_leclerc doesn't have to be for long

pierregasly man, you're playing a dangerous game

yourusername maybe we like a bit of danger

user32 yep i'm officially on the charles and y/n train

user10 i know we've said they're probably just joking but i genuinely hope they get together, they seem like they're good for each other

carlossainz55

liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 429,561 others

carlossainz55: no better way to do winter break

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user13 they're so so cute

user55 omg maybe carlos might actually have a girlfriend who doesn't constantly flirt with his teammate

user30 the way that she's still be demonised for harmless comments when he was seen with isa way before carlos and y/n broke up and got with her officially within a week of the breakup

comments have been limited on this post

yourusername added to their story

[caption: pasta day is my favourite day]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 709,822 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: all is fair in love and war

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user56 HOLY SHIT

user21 AHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername i'd fight this war all over again to end up with you

user48 I KNEW THEY WOULD BE CUTE

user88 okay now i don't feel so bad for rooting for them

f1wagsupdates

liked by user5, user9 and 330 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

f1wagsupdates: though controversial in the way it came about, i for one love this relationship - what do you guys think?

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user11 carlos did this and way sooner so i am defo a fan of this relationship

user49 they slay i don't care what anyone says

user2 i love it and she's a smart queen cause she doesn't even need to buy any more new merchandise

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 98,134 others

yourusername: made the super long journey to the garage next door

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user31 she's so so pretty

charles_leclerc thank you for making such selfless sacrifices

yourusername good thing you're worth it

user41 i need to meet her

user10 the shady hand covering the other one

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 1,023,671 others

tagged: yourusername, scuderiaferrari

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user46 SLAY CHARLES

yourusername pretty boy with a pretty trophy - i'm so so proud of you xx

charles_leclerc you're much prettier than my trophy baby

user90 parents

carlossainz55 happy for both of you

charles_leclerc thanks bro

yourusername it was unorthodox but we're both happy now and that's all that matters

note" hope you enjoyed, this ended up so much longer than expected but i had a lot of fun writing this !! my asks are still open for any other requests xx

[kurishiri]

95K ┊ Dead or Love —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ �� ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the alfons 95k bonus story for the dead or love event, or as it is known in en, wreck the halls. please note it is written entirely in his p.o.v.! also, i recommend for the full enjoyment, that you go through at least one read through of his main story.

— cw: nudity in a (semi-)public place, topic of death, awkwardly translated smut that i will put in between dividers.

—— Alfons’ POV ——

—— Hallway ——

Kate: Alfons, w-what is that...

Everyone during Christmas was in a festive mood at its finest.

And on the very same day one sang fa-la-la for, [1]

I happened upon Kate in the hallway, with a gaze that could hurt.

And — while it does so pain me to say — such a gaze was not directed at me, but rather on the ticking bomb bound to my neck.

Alfons: This, you ask? Why, it’s none other than the bomb accessory that’s been the hot topic among the kids of London.

A: Ah— would you care for one, too, Kate? I must say its weight does ever so slightly hold me back though.

Kate: ...A bomb? From a mission...?

Alfons: Dear me, brushing me off so splendidly, I see. And to your lover too, how very cruel!

Kate: Stop beating around the bush and give me an answer!

(There it is, it’s this face of hers. The one that means she has no intention of backing down.)

Alfons: Last night, while playing around, I dozed off for but a moment. And then, it was around that time...

A: One can never be too careful.

Kate: Just who did this to you...

Alfons: Indeed, whoever could it be? Not even my ten fingers and ten toes could count the amount of people who hold some grudge against me.

—— Port (flashback ——

In all truthfulness, this dangerous ticking bomb was put on me during a mission.

Right in the middle of the mission to take down an organization that was the root of a human trafficking network, I voluntarily put it on my neck.

That was the necessary resort to create an opening on the other side, after all.

And due to my fine play as a sacrificial role, the mission was a smashing success, and the organization was soundly crushed.

But, this ticking bomb alone would not come off, and alas nothing could be done. And that was the long and short of it.

—— Hallway ——

(I did know that if Kate were to lay her eyes on me in this state, she would be worried, but...)

I should count my blessings, as Kate did not accompany us on the mission last night,

and with that being the case, I tried to avoid Kate until the bomb was defused, spending time without seeing her...

(Aww, Kate, you unfortunate soul, you.)

(Or, wait, perhaps this may be a good thing?)

Kate: So, how do we defuse it? Though seeing as you still have it on you, I guess that means you don’t know...

Alfons: Aha, exactly, what sharp deduction skills you have, Kate! We don’t know how to remove this. That being said...

A: William and Victor, simply unable to idle themselves away, are currently expending their blood, sweat, and tears to find a way to defuse the bomb. So you can rest easy.

Kate: William and Victor...?

Alfons: Indeed, they will be back in two hours. So until then, I’ve been ordered to stay in the premises.

Or so I say, but even if I were to give Kate a seed of reassurance, her expression wouldn’t let up.

And so, before Kate burst into tears, I tried to give one or two poor jokes,

when all of a sudden, Kate raised her head.

Kate: You’re the one in this worrying situation, and yet here I am fussing over it... I’m sorry.

(Well, I’ll be...) (O_O)

Alfons: I digress, if your lover were on the verge of death and you were beaming like a sunshine you would probably be suspected of being an insurance murderer.

Kate: Until William and Victor return, I’ll stay by your side.

K: If it means your worry will fade even a little bit, I’ll do any- and everything, after all!

Alfons: ...What did you say just now?

Kate: Huh? Um... ‘until the two of them return, I’ll stay by your side’?

Alfons: No no, a little after that.

Kate: ‘If it means your worry will fade even a little bit, I’ll do any- and everything’?

Alfons: Bull’s eye.

A: Allow me to indulge in those very words then.

Kate: Wha...?

—— Kitchen ——

Kate: W-w-wha...

Alfons: ‘Wha’?

Kate: What in the world is this...!

Alfons: Goodness, how you tease me, Kate, to make me spell it all out... it’s an apron, of course. A n-u-d-e one [2], that is.

Kate: I know that already! But why this revealing outfit...

Alfons: ...You see, it has been a dream of mine since I was a child to see one wearing a nude apron up close.

A: To think this long-time dream of mine would be fulfilled like this on this very day, truly, life is worth living.

Kate: ...I... guess so. It’s the first I heard of that.

K: So, what were you planning, having me in this...?

Alfons: The kitchen has been reserved, and before me is a naughty Kate in a nude apron.

A: I daresay there’s hardly any need to ask, no?

Kate: ...You mean...

Alfons: Of course, we’re making sweets.

Kate: .........what?

Alfons: Truth be told, a tad prior to this, I had Victor tell me the recipe of his special scones...

A: And wanting to try it someday, I was simply waiting for the right timing.

Kate: Ah— I see now... Then, you could have just said so...

Alfons: Oh, what’s this now? Did you perhaps catch some... ideas on what we were going to be doing?

Kate: H-hardly. Anyways, enough of that, let’s hurry and make some sweets. What should we start with first?

Alfons: Hehe, alright, I hear you.

(As always, she’s quite innocent and darling, isn’t she.)

And so, still in the naughty get-up, Kate started to earnestly make the scones.

Alfons: Use your fingertips to knead the flour and butter. Yes, yes, just like that, like when I’m massaging your breasts.

A: Next, how about you lean over... ah— just a little more and the side of your breast will...

(To say that a nude apron is a man’s fantasy would be true, but...)

When wearing such an absurd attire, one would be unable to think about the serious things.

(How the nude apron does carry a destiny of being feared.)

Alfons: And then, let the finished batter sit overnight and then bake...

Kate: Overnight...

At that moment, the smile disappeared from Kate’s face.

It would seem that the word ‘overnight’ had brought about the fact that my life was on the verge of fading.

It was around this time I blamed the recipe of the ever kind and polite Victor,

when Kate murmured,

Kate: Alfons, actually...

Alfons: ...?

Kate: Actually... I knew that all this was because of a mission.

(Yes, I figured. You do have quite a sharp intuition in the strangest places, after all.)

Kate: I’m sure something went on, which caused you to cover for someone?

(Goodness, you’re quite taken with that sort of thing, aren’t you.)

(...Well, not that she’s completely wrong about that.)

Kate: I know in my head that it can’t be helped. ...But, still, if I were being completely honest... I’m really scared.

K: Alfons, if you die, then I don’t know what I’d do...

Alfons: ......... (O_O)

Kate: But...

K: ...I will never, ever let you die.

Alfons: Never?

Kate: Ever. Because even if William and Victor were to say there’s no use, I won’t ever give up.

K: After all, I... I don’t have enough of you yet, Alfons.

I knew that Kate was thinking about my fate of ‘dying without being left behind in anyone’s memories,’

as she expressed her words.

Alfons: If I were to kick the bucket just like that in a matter of several hours... would you forget me?

Kate: No way! I won’t forget you, and that’s absolute.

K: But, even so, it’s not enough still...

Kate murmured this, as though in reflection, her eyes pricked with beautiful tears.

Alfons: Pfft...

A: Ahahaha—

(Aww... goodness, you really are as much of a fool as you are ever so darling, Kate.)

Alfons: What a fool you are, trying to act tough even when so anxious you can hardly bear it. It’s practically an open book, you know.

Kate: So you say, but I know you made me wear this to blow my worries away...

Alfons: Oh, my. I must implore you not to look down on my insatiable desire for a nude apron.

Kate: Ah— wait... Alfons...

Victor: Al, Kate! Here you guys are, we found out how to defuse the bomb!

Kate: ...Victor, William!

K: Is that so!? Thank you so much. So Alfons can be saved.

K: I’m really glad... so, so glad...

Victor: Ahh... yes... I’m... inclined to agree?

William: This is quite an innovative look on you, isn’t it, Kate?

Kate: Huh? Ah— t-this is...!

Alfons: Pfft... hehe.

(This sort of ridiculous sketch could be considered a comedy, no?)

Alfons: Anyhow, could I leave the defusing to you guys?

—— Alfons’ room ——

With the bomb defused, I took Kate back to my room.

Alfons: To think death was flashing right before my very eyes. I even got to witness such a darling tearful face, too.

Kate: Ugh, you’re the worst— I really was about to double over in worry!

I grabbed Kate’s wrist, which was hitting repeatedly on me like a cat, and I pinned them on the bed.

Alfons: Indeed, I’m the worst.

A: After all, I had made you so sad, and yet I can’t make an absolute promise that I won’t die.

Kate: ...I know.

K: But even still, I fell in love with you.

Alfons: What a good girl you are. You have my praises.

Patting her head, Kate sniffled.

Alfons: What may happen tomorrow is beyond us. That said, though, I do feel it’s regrettable were I to die tomorrow.

A: A lot went on today, but isn’t it fun in and of itself to be able to laugh together like this now?

A: Tomorrow, something more fun may happen.

A: After all, it would seem that I want to relish in such times with you.

A: All that to say, this is just the beginning for the both of us, no?

Kate: Alfons...

K: Yes, that’s right. Let’s do something more and more fun.

Alfons: Yes, let’s.

A: ——With that, will you strip? Or will we do it like this?

Kate: .........Come again?

Giving Kate, who had a dazed look, a sidelong glance, I slipped off my jacket and grabbed onto my shirt...

Alfons: I would prefer clothes on. Well then, don’t mind if I do.

Kate: Wh— ah... Alfons... wait...

Alfons: Ahha! Look at how dripping wet it is, here between your legs.

Kate: How could I not with that get-up... ah...

Alfons: Then allow me to fulfill your expectations, whispering embarrassing things while doing many things you love, alright?

Kate: ah— ...ngh...

As I sucked and licked there, she cried out like a cat in heat.

She came once, and Kate looked a bit lethargic as I lifted her waist and had her on all fours.

Alfons: Aww... the apron’s so stained now...

Kate: hah... Al...fons...

Alfons: Oh, you want more already? Then, jut out your waist a bit more, will you.

Kate blinked, as though hesitant, and then let out words I wouldn’t have predicted.

Kate: Umm...

K: Do you... find it fun, seeing me like this?

Alfons: Huh?

Kate: I-I mean, if there are many fun things to come... you won’t rush to death, right?

(.........Goodness.)

(Truly, you...)

Alfons: Indeed, I do. Enjoying such a naughty sight is quite fun for me.

A: So that’s why, come now. Entertain me more, won’t you. If you do well, I’ll make you feel good.

Kate pushed out her waist while on all fours,

so that the wet part was right before my eyes.

Such a sight was naughty, laudable... and I couldn’t hold back a smile.

Alfons: Well done. Then——as you wish.

Kate: Ahh...!

Alfons: It’s so hot inside you. ...Come on, don’t run away from the pleasure.

A: Feel it with everything you can. So that... you won’t ever forget me.

Today, once again, I cast a spell on Kate to push down her shame.

And, today as well, Kate was taken by the heat, trying her hardest to engrave me in her memory.

Alfons: What’s the heat inside you like right now? Its shape?

Kate: haa... ah, ahh——

When she turned over, our eyes met.

Alfons: Aha— what a face.

Our foreheads touched, and the inside of Kate seemed to swell in happiness.

(Someday, the time will come when our breaths will cease. After all, death is the one and only thing that’s equal among all humans.)

——But, even so, I...

(By any means necessary, I will die after you. Not that I will ever tell you so.)

Keeping this secret in my heart,

I will watch you try your utmost hardest, filling your mind with thoughts of me and feeling good as soon as possible.

(You are here. That alone would be so much fun...)

(Rushing toward death would be nothing short of a waste, and even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could, at least for a while to come.)

Fin.

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

NOTES:

[1] Alfons uses [絶賛〜中] (zessan...—chuu), which is a way of saying ‘presently’ or ‘currently,’ specifically referring to Christmas, but it can sort of have a bit of a humorous ring to it too. I wasn’t sure exactly how to make it sound humorous in this case, so I took another part, specifically the singing fa-la-la part, in hopes of adding a bit of a light-heartedness or ‘joking’ sort of tone to it.

[2] I’m not completely sure this is the term for [裸エプロン] (hadaka-epuron), where [裸] (hadaka) means ‘nude.’ But basically, Kate’s like butt-naked while wearing an apron.

[hotricebowlsoup]

oh, you gotta keep the crows away

(evamon, 1.8k, relationship study, canon compliant + my own flourishes)

She’s the first you meet. The world began when you leaned in close and she snapped her eyes open, boring into yours.

Your trust is not misplaced in the Ultimate Liar, ironically. From the moment you meet her to the end of your first trial, she speaks fluidly in your language, facts and truth.

Even when she disrupts the suffocatingly optimistic atmosphere with a well-intentioned warning.

Oddballs stick together, you bitterly suppose, as everyone shoots you dirty looks after agreeing with her sentiment. You convince yourself you’re not doing this for her, you’re not doing this for anyone—

The glimpse you catch of her fisted hand and furrowed brows makes your noisy mind come to a stop.

You leave the courtroom before you can bear to look back again.

It’s not really a surprise when you wake up the next morning, cast out from the main group after your shenanigans yesterday. Nor is it surprising to be cast out with her. 

The so-called “Ultimates” flock to Wolfgang like a herd of sheep to its shepard, brainless and dependent. Desperate to grasp at hope in this desolate sanctuary. Between the two of you, you figure he’s more snake-like than you are, giving the hungry mindless purpose like a carrot on a stick, the tempter who offers the apple to Eve.

But then your Liar shares something exclusive with you for the first time, and your spite towards Wolfgang’s cult matters no more.

(If you’d known the poster in the laboratory was Eva’s apple, perhaps you could’ve saved the only person who truly knew you.)

Although, your Eden crumbles a little after the rather anticlimactic reveal.

It baffles you, why anyone would choose to play the role of someone dangerous in an already dangerous situation. It baffles you because that’s the last thing you’d do, and the last thing you’d thought someone of her caliber would do. It baffles you because her now demolished lie was the reason you both are outcasts.

It baffles you because you thought she, your Liar, was the only one you could trust.

-

When free time begins, your legs bring you to her at once.

You find her in the underground level, where you first met. She tells you she’s avoiding the others; you hope she doesn’t mean you, too.

“I expected the Ultimates to wear their titles with pride,” You point out, very aware of the depressed look on her face. “But for you, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“It doesn't… fit well.”

She tells you about her world, enclosed in a box, obstructed by a frame. Despite her best efforts to push beyond the boundaries set upon her by others, they are nothing.

Who reads a literature essay written by a highschool mathlete?

It’s not something you can relate to, since you’ve never bothered to stray towards a path that doesn’t lead to a podium. You don’t know how it feels to make a greater, scarier name for yourself yet ultimately fail because of a silly title that defines you forever.

You don’t know what keeps you listening to her. Even when she cracks her first joke with you, and calls you gullible.

You don’t know what pulls you back to her in your next available time.

She tells you about her world again, because you’re her only willing audience. That she, an Ultimate, was treated lesser than a dog for her talent. That she, instead of attaining recognition and awe like you did with your title, lost all friendships the average girl should’ve had.

Despite your attitude, you couldn’t help but feel bad for her. (Even if you find it kind of funny how her hair untwirled itself when she spoke of her depressing story, too.)

It’s unexpectedly mundane after she leaves, you find. Probably because the Ultimate Debater can’t stand a silent house.

That’s probably it.

-

Your roommate is with you when she seeks you out for the first time. The Ultimate Influencer unabashedly makes a big fuss when Eva tries to pull you away alone, and if you weren’t already waiting for the next opportunity to speak to her, you would’ve found Kai’s (rather loud) concern to be well-intentioned.

Or maybe not, you suppress a sigh, as he walks away giggling to himself, muttering “freaking mathlete” under his breath.

You keep your eyes on her. She’s silent, eyes trained on the floor. Her hand fists her long sleeves, like the sight from the courtroom you couldn’t forget even if you tried.

Her eyes flutter upwards, meeting yours. You ignore the loosening of her grip, or the slowing of her heaving chest, in favor of keeping your eyes trained on hers. When she exhales calmly after a few moments, you feel yourself relaxing along with her.

Alone again in the underground level, she gives you another piece of her.

“Why are you showing this to me?”

She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, and you feel like a stupid math question. “Because I’m worried, duh.”

Duh. Slang sounds kind of weird coming from her. It feels unnatural, unpracticed, like she’s never spoken it before. You know why, and you surprise yourself by keeping your words to yourself.

But she surprises you more. “It’s because… I trust you.”

You?

“I’m… really sorry about how things turned out.”

What for?

“The other students wouldn’t have treated you unfairly if it wasn’t for me.”

It is, well, kind of her fault, but you figure you’re unlikeable enough to gain enemies by yourself. You had a choice to stay silent after the trial, but you deliberately chose to take her side.

And, when you look at her downcasted expression, how could you bear to blame her for any of it?

As a consolation of sorts, you give her a small piece of you, too.

Wolfgang’s blackmail is handled delicately by her, yet the words from her mouth are harsh and crude. While you agree that your classmates weren’t… intellectually capable of distrusting Wolfgang, there’s an extremely transparent reason why they didn’t believe Eva instead.

“Why did you do it?”

“...Huh?”

“You knew you were in a dangerous situation. Why would you draw so much negative attention to yourself like that?” You hiss the next part with equal amounts of condescension and worry. “Don’t you realise how much danger this has put you in?”

When she gives you a look that you can instantly recognise, you realise how frightening it is that you can read her quickly. “You know you can’t run away this time. Give me an answer.”

“Because…” 

Before today, despite your closeness with her, there was always a line that couldn’t be crossed. Before today, your Liar stayed in her bubble, guarded and untrusting from past experiences.

But you have burst through her bubble, your arms outstretched, the first light in Eva’s world. The wall shatters around you both. You can see her. You can feel her. Damned be it if you two were forced comrades, with no obligation to mingle— you will erase the distance that separates her from you.

The facade is finished, the line is crossed, and you see she’s a sheep at heart, donning the mask of a carnivore. To see yet another sunrise, another sunset, without the fear of being someone’s dinner.

With a phantom ache in your chest, you implore her to trust you as you do the same for her.

Then, she does something you’ve never seen her do before.

“...Hm.”

She smiled.

-

The longer the time you spend with her, the goofier your impression of her is.

And yet, you keep returning to her.

-

“Eva.” Silence.

“ Eva. ”

Your Liar barely spares you a glance, before returning to her game console. This girl…

Bending down a little, you tap her hand to pull her gaze upwards. Her hand is soft. Her gaze is intense. Her face is close.

You pester her about the console. She simply ignores you, puffing out her cheeks and pouting to the side. “If I partake in conversation, will you leave me alone?”

“That’s an eloquent way to get me to shut up.” 

“...It’s not that.”

“So you do want to have a conversation.”

Triumphant in your victory, you allow the edges of your lips to twitch upwards. Your cheeks hurt a little from the lack of exercise.

She stares at you for a short while, and it dawns on you this was probably the first time anyone saw you smile.

(Your smile is quickly erased as she continues to play theatrics with a poker face, making you question your sanity whenever she attempts to joke. It’s unimpressive, it’s bizarre, it’s… endearing.)

“And you never know…” She murmurs, matching the smile you lost. Your heart stops for a split second. “...maybe I’ll change my mind and play in the tournament later.”

Your Liar is subtly different from the girl you first met. Here, sitting in this chair, she looks more relaxed and content than ever. Her bubble is shattered, yet she is safe. With that smile on her face, even with her eyes closed, she’s almost radiant.

It pains you to say it, but smiling is a good look on her.

You don’t recognise yourself when you start wishing she’d do it more.

-

When the class trial inevitably came, you’d known your Liar would be actively participative, pointing her finger at those she had good reason to suspect.

You just never thought you’d be at the end of it.

As the usually composed Eva Tsunaka gradually gets more agitated, you try to dismiss the betrayal as her vengeance after you called out her name with a shaking voice.

Without knowing, your heart breaks. Once. Twice.

Without knowing, the bubble you burst is back up. The wall is rebuilt, stronger than ever. The line you thought you crossed was further than you realised. She is unreachable, unreadable. She is no longer yours to know. The panic, the hatred on her face… where is the girl who smiled and shared secrets with you?

Fact is undeniable. An argument holds no water if there is no indisputable evidence to back it up. Not that you are unconfident in your theory, or that you are hesitant to bring her to justice.

It just breaks your heart a third time to demolish her with the same language, facts and truth, that you found solidarity with her.

You will make sure this is her final lie (to you).

-

The rebuilt bubble that obstructs her from you matters no more. Not when its occupant is dead, anyway.

However cruel and gory her execution was, you can’t bear to look away from the one person you believed and hoped was on your side.

The end comes, after an excruciatingly long time. The courtroom is enveloped in a deafening silence. All of you watch as the crow’s feather, unmistakably hers, flutters to the ground. It never moves again, no matter how long you look at it.

A part of you wonders if she truly was the Ultimate Liar all along.

It doesn’t extinguish the wetness on your cheek, o r the bubble you feel forming around you.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

I Crybaby I part two

Mean Punk/Grunge Anakin × Naive Femme Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: demeaning comments, crude behavior, aggression toward reader, hurt/comfort, reader is taken advantage of, Anakin is briefly a creep

Info: Anakin is an ass, like no joke he's really mean. Pierced and tatted Ani, he plays the drums, annoying rude neighbor, modern AU (90's), he might be mean now but I promise he will get better (probably)

NOT PROOFREAD

As the day went on you got yourself ready. A friend from one of your college classes was due to pick you up anytime now. The guy was nice enough to invite you out to go bowling with a group of his friends, knowing you were new and that you didn’t have a solid friend group yet. You were appreciative of the gesture, despite your bubbly personality you found it difficult to keep a steady friendship, it seemed that people took advantage of your naivety, your kindness.

Jacob had promised that his friends were just as great as he was, it was the week after classes had ended for the summer and they had collectively decided it was an atrocity that a girl like you had went the school year without a proper night out with friends.

Wearing a tight red crop top and a cherry patterned short skirt and a pair of white sandals you stepped out side, checking on your hair and makeup one more time in the porch window before sitting on the swing to wait for him to pull up.

Anakin had been watching you from behind his bedroom curtains as you primped and prepared to go out. A mix of annoyance and fascination flickered within him as he observed your movements. He couldn't help but notice the tight red crop top that accentuated your figure and the short cherry-patterned skirt that revealed your toned legs.

Feeling a sudden pang of jealousy, Anakin scoffed to himself as he grabbed his pack of Marlboros and his lighter from the nightstand. He stepped out onto his porch, determined to distract you from whatever event you planned on attending.

Anakin couldn't help but admire how good you looked, despite his attempts to downplay it.

"You're really going all out, aren't you?" he called out, purposely using a sarcastic tone as he walked over, the sound of his combat boots hitting the concrete echoing through the air.

He lit up a cigarette, taking a deliberate drag and letting the smoke linger in the air between you. Smirking at the disgust on your face when the smoke curled around your head, he snickered as he watched you fan it away with your delicate little hands.

Despite his snarky facade, he couldn't help but feel a streak of possessiveness at the thought of you going out with someone other than him.

"What do you mean?" You asked, standing as you saw Jacob's station wagon rounding the corner.

Anakin smirked, taking another drag from his cigarette as he leaned against the porch railing, the smoke escaping his lips in a lazy wisp. The sight of Jacob's car approaching only fueled his determination to stir up some trouble.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, princess," he replied, his voice laced with a blend of amusement and annoyance. "Just think you're putting in a lot of effort for some random."

As Jacob's car pulled up, Anakin pushed himself off the railing, making his way over to your driveway with an intentional swagger. He looked Jacob up and down with a scrutinizing gaze, silently sizing him up as if daring him to make a move.

"So, this is the lucky guy, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Better keep a close eye on him, he looks like one of those sleazy types."

Anakin's words were meant to ruffle Jacob's feathers, and to his disappointment, the other boy seemed to be unaffected. He simply stepped aside and leaned against his car, a grin spreading as he watched you leap down the steps.

"Jay-Jay!" You shouted excitedly as he opened the passenger door for you.

Anakin laughed loudly, doubling over before leaning back on his heels, the toes of his shoes leaving the ground. “Jay-Jay?” He mocked.

"Who's this?" Jacob gestured to Anakin, very obviously judging his appearance and behavior.

"He's my neighbor, lives right there." You pointed.

Anakin raised a pierced eyebrow at Jacob's judgmental gaze, his playful smirk never leaving his face. He leaned against the car, deliberately invading Jacob's personal space as he spoke with a self-assured tone.

“Just thought I’d make sure she’s in good hands you know? Gotta watch out for my baby girl.” Anakin replied, leaning into the still open car door to give you a condescending pat on the cheek.

His use of the pet name was deliberate, a subtle reminder that he had taken a liking to you, even if he wasn't ready to admit it. Anakin shot you a mischievous grin as you settled into the car, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned back to Jacob.

You watched the exchange between the two boys. Jacob instantly bristled at the use of Anakin's pet name. He stood up a bit straighter to attempt to tower over Anakin with no luck, since Anakin was obviously much taller, even without the clunky boots he wore. You could tell Anakin liked getting a rise out Jacob, seeing as how his cheeks got red and his fists clenched.

"Take care of her, champ," he said, his tone containing a mix of jealousy and true concern for your safety.

“Can’t believe he said that while I’m standing right there!” Jacob fumed under his breath as he walked around the car to the drivers door. “Little shithead.”

Anakin couldn't help but overhear Jacob's remark as he made his exit. He chuckled to himself, basking in the knowledge that he had effectively managed to get under his skin.

He muttered, his tone tinged with amusement. "Guess I struck a nerve."

With one final wink in your direction, Anakin pushed away from the car and retreated back to his own porch. Leaning back on the porch swing, Anakin took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a protective shield. But deep down, he couldn't ignore the flicker of concern that wormed its way into his thoughts.

He watched as Jacob's car disappeared from view, the distant engine noise fading into the quiet evening. The reality of his own possessiveness began to sink in, causing a mix of conflicting emotions to surge within him. Anakin found himself questioning his motives, the strange connection he felt with you.

With a sigh, he stubbed out his cigarette and stood up from the porch swing.

You were worried that Anakin's behavior would dampen the mood, but it didn't, Jacob quickly recovered to his usual chipper self.

Walking alongside you happily as you entered the bowling alley to meet his friends. Thankfully there were other girls there that immediately took a liking to you, they made you feel like part of the group right away.

As the night went on you formed the opinion that yes, Jacob had some cool friends, and you wouldn’t mind getting to spend more time with them. The girls and you had ordered a few drinks at the bar next door between games and by the time Jacob was ushering you into the car to take you home with a gentle hand on your back, you were more than a bit tipsy.

Soon enough he pulled into the driveway, jogging around the front end of the vehicle to help you out. He chuckled when he saw you had taken off your shoes and were holding them awkwardly in your hands. Your bare feet smacked the pavement and you couldn’t help but giggle.

"Thanks, Jay," you slurred, flashing him a crooked grin. His hand on your waist steadied your loose movements.

"C'mon let's get you inside." He laughed.

As you fumbled with your keys at the front door, Jacob leaned in close, his voice laced with mild concern.

"Careful now, don't want you busting up that pretty face," he teased, gently guiding the key into the lock for you.

The door of Anakin’s home swung open, time for his late night smoke and not at all meant to be a front for spying on you and the stupid guy with an arm around your waist.

"Buh-bye Jay," you slurred, hugging Jacob sleepily.

The boy towered over you, dwarfing you with his larger size. You seemed to small and fragile next to him and it worried Anakin. He leaned in with the intent to kiss you, and of course you remained blissfully unaware of the escalating tension hanging in the air.

Anakin couldn't stand by and watch as another man tried to claim what he saw as his. With a flick of his cigarette, he crushed the butt beneath his boot and rose to his feet. A mix of anger and protectiveness coursed through him as he approached the porch, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Alright, that's enough," Anakin growled, stepping between the two of you. His voice dripped with a toxic combination of aggression and protection.

Jacob stepped back, his expression caught between surprise and annoyance.

“What's your problem, man?" he snapped, clearly taken aback by Anakin's sudden appearance.

Anakin leaned in closer, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think you can just swoop in and take advantage of a clearly intoxicated girl, huh? You're delusional if you think I’m letting you walk in there with her."

His words hung heavy in the air, a tense silence engulfing the three of you. Anakin's gaze remained fixed on Jacob, his icy stare daring him to make a move.

Jacob, realizing the situation was escalating, backed off slowly, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Look, man, I didn't mean any harm. I just…. I thought she was into it. My bad." He stuttered.

Anakin's lips twisted into a smile, though it was laced with bitterness.

"Your bad, huh?" he sneered. "Stay the hell away from her. She's off-limits."

Without another word, Jacob turned on his heel, swiftly retreating to his car. The confrontation left a sour taste in the air that dissipated swiftly after Jacob’s car squealed out of your driveway.

Anakin's gaze softened, though his anger still smoldered beneath the surface. He turned his attention to you, remaining silent for a beat before stepping closer, his touch gentle on your exposed shoulder.

"You alright, princess?" he asked softly, his voice a stark contrast to the venom he had displayed moments ago. His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself searching his face to confirm he was being genuine.

At the realization that he was indeed being serious tears filled your eyes and You pushed the heels of your palms into them to attempt to fight them off, but it was no use. Your mascara was running, no doubt your lipgloss was smeared across your cheek, you were in a disheveled state and couldn’t help but steel yourself for the possibility he would make some terrible jab at you and your situation. You let yourself crumple into yourself as you sunk to the ground, taking a seat on the threshold of your still open front door.

"'S-sorry. I don't mean to be a crybaby." You shot a rude glare at him. Still upset that he had called you that so long ago.

“I feel so stupid!” You cried, your fists against your forehead. “I thought he wanted to be my friend.” Your voice trailed off, broken and quiet.

For a moment, Anakin was at a loss for words, his mind swirling as he scraped the nearly empty barrel of empathy stored in the back room of his brain.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." he murmured, his voices held a rare tenderness as he knelt down in front of you.

“Want me to beat his ass? I’ll do it.” He tried joking with you, sighing in defeat when it just made you cry harder.

He reached out, his thumb gently tracing along your cheekbone, wiping away each tear that escaped your eyes. Anakin's touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to his usual behavior.

"You're just here to make fun of me."

"Hey, don't talk like that," he said softly, "I'm not here to make fun of you babe." he said, his voice carrying an undertone of genuine affection.

"I can be an asshole sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't care.” He smirked, “I do have a shriveled up heart in here somewhere.”

Anakin's confession hung in the air, his words carrying a weight that revealed a deeper layer to his guarded personality.

You were so shell-shocked by his words that your sniffling halted completely, the guy had never said a more than a few grumpy words to you before. Now he was here in front of you, offering Comfort? What bizarre alternate reality had you stumbled into?

“You gonna say something or just stare at me?” He laughed.

“I- sorry.” You cleared your throat and scrubbed at your eyes, managing a half hearted smile, “thank you.”

"Yeah, yeah." He said sarcastically. Offering you his hand, "c'mon. Don't want the whole neighborhood seeing you like this."

You took his hand and let him pull you inside, he closed the front door and looked around, trying to decide what door led to your bedroom. Eventually he chose the correct one and guided you to your pink blanketed bed.

"Where's your stuff at? Like your pjs and shit?" he fumbled through the dresser, shoving the underwear drawer closed immediately, so embarrassed that he saw it he smushed his finger in the process.

"God damnit." he mumbled, shaking his hand. You giggled and pointed to the next drawer down.

He pulled out a set of cotton shorts and a matching shirt, adorned with a cute little Hello Kitty and strawberry print. Anakin held up the clothing, a mix of amusement and surprise playing on his face.

"Really?" he remarked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

He handed you the pajamas, his fingersbrushing gently against yours.

"Take your time changing," he said, his voice softening with a newfound tenderness. "I'Il wait here."

Anakin settled himself on your bed, leaning against the headboard, his piercing blue eyes never leaving your figure as you walked into your bathroom. He wanted to give you the space and time you needed to collect yourself, to let the tears subside, but it was awfully hard when you left the door cracked open. Flashes of your legs could be seen as you kicked off your clothes and Anakin was valiantly fighting the urge to drool.

As you changed into your pajamas, his gaze trailed over your legs, appreciating the way the fabric was dragged up and over your curves. Anakin's thoughts wandered to something significantly less than holy, if he was a religious man he would’ve smote down by lightning just for forming those thoughts.

But he shook himself out of the trance, reminding himself to respect your privacy. Once you stumbled out from the bathroom, dressed in your ridiculous, albeit cute, pajamas, Anakin's eyes met yours, a faint smile gracing his lips.

"You did good, princess," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He patted the space next to him, silently inviting you to join him on the bed. It was a small gesture, but a meaningful one, he wanted to create a safe space for you. Anakin genuinely cared about your well-being, at least right now in your drunken state.

He lifted up the blanket for you to crawl under, and patted your head awkwardly as he stood up. Stepping into the bathroom and searching through the cabinet, finding a wash cloth he wet it and then glanced around for soap. Shrugging his shoulders and deciding the hand soap was good enough. Trotting back over to you, dripping soapy water on the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

"Close your eyes." he commanded softly.

Gently wiping off the black streaks on your face. The gesture made me sleepy, and soon enough you were half asleep. You heard him chuckled to himself and the wet smack of the washcloth landing in the sink.

"Night." he whispered thinking you were asleep, trailing a finger over your cheek. Soon after you heard the front door open andclose, knowing he'd went back to his house.

You thought maybe after that night Anakin would be a bit more friendly with you, but he'd ignored you even more than before. You were quickly getting exhausted of it. Everyday you’d see him leave his house, you’d wave and he'd ignore it.

Everyday you would see him come back home, You would wave and ask him how his day was and he wouldn't answer. He'd just go straight into his garage to take off his mechanic's jumpsuit. He even came to the diner were you worked at and you had to watch him request a different waitress just so he wouldn't have to speak to you in front of his band mates.

The next few days were more of the same, and you expected it to be no different when clocked in at the diner that afternoon. After sliding your punch card back into its slot you sauntered through the kitchen and greeted your coworkers on your way to the front.

After arriving at the counter you noticed a new flyer pinned to the cork board behind the register. In big bold sharpied letters the word 'Vermin' was followed by a date and time. The description was 'headbang at the hideaway with us.' The location was a well known party spot, an abandoned warehouse.

"Hey, what's this?" You pointed to it, one of the waiters coming over to explain that it was a local band.

"You know the drummer don't you? Blue hair? Tall?” He laughed at your shocked expression, and you explained that you never realized his band was popular enough to get a gig this large.

"Are you going?" You asked excitedly.

"No but I think Kristen and her boyfriend are." He pointed to the other waitress on shift.

You made a mental note to ask her more about it. You decided you were going, and you were going to look good doing it.

After work you went straight to the mall. There was only a day before the event and you knew you didn't have the right clothes.

"Sorry to bother you," Feeling extra brave you walked up to a girl standing outside smoking, she had on a t- shirt similar to one you had seen Anakin wear before. "do you mind if I ask where you got your shirt?"

You smiled, trying to be as polite as possible and not make a fool of yourself. A soft chuckle escaped her, but there wasn't a hint of malice behind it. For some reason you felt that she could be trusted, she had a calming vibe about her.

"Uh yeah, the only alternative store we in town is in there." She laughed, looking you up and down.

"I-| know I don't look the type." You put your head down in embarrassment. "there's this thing I want to go too and I don't want to look out of place."

“Oh don’t tell me it’s for some boy.” She gagged, smiling nonetheless.

“Yeah actually it is.” You blushed, picking at your nails, “Um thanks, I’ll just-“ she interrupted you.

"I'Il help you pick something out m'kay?" She pushed off the wall with her shoulder, her clunky boots smacking the pavement as she threaded her arm through yours and led you into the mall.

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you, knowing that you wouldn't be left alone and confused in a dimly lit store you’d never stepped foot in. The air was thick with the sound of music and the scent of incense, the cashier cover in various body piercings and tattoos.

The girl took the lead, guiding you towards racks of clothes that resembled something similar to things you’d seen Anakin where before. Together, you flipped through hangers, choosing pieces that were definitely out of your comfort zone, but that you felt like you could easily pull them off.

Feeling like you were in a cheesy movie’s dressing room montage you experimented with band shirts, ripped jeans, and accessories that looked like they could be considered as weapons. Her presence provided a sense of comfort, assuring you that you were on the right track, it helped that she was perfectly comfortable being there herself.

The nerves that had once plagued you were replaced by a growing sense of confidence. The mirror reflected a version of you that felt stronger, more self assured. You were starting to understand the appeal of this type of dress and the scene it went with. The music flowing through the speakers started sounding less like pots, pans and rabid raccoons and more like drums, guitars and harsh vocals.

Finally, you settled on an outfit that made you feel empowered. You looked to your new friend, who had previously insisted despite her birth name being Deborah she was not a total loser and would rather you call her by her middle name, Marie.

"God. You look hot." She nodding her head in approval. “I’d fuck you.”

"Just chop this part off when you get home and you'll be irresistible." She made a scissor motion at the hem and sleeves of the shirt

"Chop it off?" You gasped. "why?"

She laughed, "Just gives it character, it'll make it look like you've worn it before and not like you just got it."

"Here." She dropped a chunky silver chain in your hands with a clip on each end. "that will go on your jeans okay? Then we'll rip some holes in here at your knees. And the shoes you have already are fine, converse go with everything. Let's go."

She pushed you toward the register, then out the doors and guided you towards the back entrance to the mall, stopping just outside the doors. She grinned, yanking the jeans from your bag.

“Don’t flip out.” She warned, grabbing the jeans by the waist and the end of the pant leg.

She pushed the toe of her boot to the fabric where the back of your knee would be and pressed it to the brick wall. She began rapidly sawing the jeans back and forth creating a distressed look. She tipped her head to you and offer the pants to you so you could do the other leg.

The act felt liberating, you’d never purposely destroyed brand new clothes before. Your movements were tentative at first, quickly escalating to something just shy of the force Marie had used. You let out a puff of air that blew your hair out of your face as you turned around to show her the pants.

She gave you an approving smile and tossed your bag over her shoulder, “Follow me, I’ve got some magazines and shit in my car you can have.”

“Magazines?” You questioned, bunching up the jeans in the crook of your arm to jog after her.

“Yeah, like for hair and makeup?” She laughed, headed toward a busted up black hatchback.

“Oh cool okay! Yeah I’d love that!” You giggled and clapped excitedly as she threw open the back seat’s door and ruffled through the mountain of discarded pop bottles, receipts and fast food bags.

“Ignore that.” she huffed when a grocery bag tied up with trash stuffed inside rolled out and onto the pavement.

She shoved the crinkled magazines into your shopping bag of clothes and picked up the trash bag and threw it behind her in her backseat, bumping the door shut with her hip.

“Thank you!” You threw your arms around her shoulders in a crushing hug that she wasn’t expecting, but quickly reciprocated.

“You got a pen in that purse?” She asked when you broke the embrace.

“Uh huh!” You nodded, easily finding it among the highly organized pockets and handed it to her.

She grabbed your wrist and wrote down her phone number, and pointing out the magazine was a subscription and had her address on it.

“I know you’ve got a little planner or address book or some shit like that.” She laughed.

“Yeah I do.” You blushed, smiling because she’d guessed correctly.

“Don’t forget to pencil me in okay babes?” She leaned in and gave you a cheek to cheek kiss like you’d seen people do in foreign films.

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[deadboydetectives-confessions]

i don't think people seriously think edwin playing trauma olympics is a *good* thing, or at least not anyone i've seen, but personally i think it's just kinda funny. because like objectively he kinda does indeed win, it's pretty hard to beat 70 years being tortured in literal hell. which doesn't mean it's a *right* for him to play trauma olympics and invalidate crystal's trauma. it isn't. but you know. it makes sense on a character level why he'd do that and i think it's possible to understand that and make light-hearted jokes about it without thinking that isn't a character fault when it is

that being said. edwin went to hell and all he got was a useless medal in the trauma olympics, let him at least get some use out of it (for all intents and purposes this is a joke)

.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an oblivious MC

~ In case you're wondering how I understand this situation so well, it's because I share in MC's level of obliviousness :') For headcanon purposes, MC and M6 do not progress past the "friend" stage until the M6 confess - brainrot ~

Julian

Oh goodness, he's never been so genuinely confused in his life. He's absolutely, completely, entirely lost

He knows that he tends to come across a little strong. He knows that he couldn't hide his attractions to people if he tried. He knows that he's a shameless flirt

So HOW on EARTH are you somehow so convinced that he feels nothing more for you than for a friend? Has the sun started rising in the West? Has gravity stopped working?? Is he turning blonde???

Constantly second guessing himself because of it. Maybe this is your way of letting him know that you're not interested

Maybe you find him so completely unattractive that nothing he does can come across as remotely romantic? Is that it???

Everyone who watches this dynamic play out thinks it's the funniest thing they've ever seen (Asra and Mazelinka especially)

The infamously suave Dr Devorak, fumbling and blushing after someone who looks way too innocent to be receiving the comments that he's making

On a more serious note, your obliviousness pushes him to think through his romantic actions, which makes all of his efforts at wooing you much more intentional

Confesses because he doesn't know what else to do and is genuinely surprised when you tell him you feel the same way

So excited once you're together to find out what it's like when you decide to flirt with him. Now that you two are on the same page everything you initiate makes him swoon

Asra

Ouch

The things they've lived through and sacrificed for you were not done with any kind of reward in mind - they genuinely just wanted to give you a second chance

But you're growing stronger every day now, and soon you might be able to handle the truth, and you're somehow so indifferent to him

On the other hand, they're secretly relieved because it means that if they slip up and show you more affection than they intend to you won't notice

Poor Faust tries to step in and help at one point, but she can't use that many words at a time which is useless where you're concerned

Love Master? "Aww, Faust loves you, Asra!" No! Master! Love Friend! "Oh, you meant that you love me, Faust? I love you too!"

Asra watches the whole thing play out in disbelief, hands in his hair, because it's more cuteness than his heart can handle and he wants to be the one you're saying that to so badly it hurts

Eventually assumes that you're playing dumb and confesses to get rid of the elephant in the room, is surprised when you're surprised by it

Doubly shocked and delighted when you say "I love you" right back

They have literal years of pent up emotion to let out and now that all the cards are on the table it's like a dam has burst (be prepared)

He's determined to teach you how to read the signs of seduction so you never run into this situation again

Nadia

Is this some kind of sick joke? Do you not know that she is not the type of woman to be trifled with?

Almost instantly recognizes that you're truly that oblivious, has absolutely no idea how to get her point across any more obviously

Nothing seems to be working. Not the touches, not the praise, not the gifts, nothing. You keep interpreting them as signs of closeness (which, technically, they are) and don't see any of the romance!

Does briefly wonder if this is your version of gentle rejection

Maybe you're hoping that if you accept the relationship without acknowledging the interest then that's all she'll offer you

But no, she's not stupid

She sees the way you look at her, the way you get flustered around her, the way she makes you fumble. She knows there's some level of attraction there, she just has no idea how to tap into it

She finally confesses once she's as sure as she can be that it won't be unwelcome

Relieved but unsurprised when you tell her you like her back

Will grill you relentlessly afterwards on how you missed the signs

The clothes? What did you think she was doing? The bath? What did you think she was doing? The romantically charged praise? What did you think she meant? She loves you so much, now please explain!

Now that she knows that you know, she has a lot of flirting to catch up on

You're about to be a constantly flustered mess for the next few weeks at least

Muriel

So relieved, he's thanking his lucky stars that your insightfulness has a blind spot when it comes to his attraction to you

He likes to do things at his own pace. If you're not aware of and responding to his feelings, that gives him space to process them and decide what to do

That said, how is it possible for someone to be this blind?

Morga has noticed and she keeps looking at both of you with increasing levels of pity, concern, disbelief, and annoyance

Don't get him started on how hard Inanna is laughing

And the worst part is - it's still anxiety inducing, because he's never 100% certain that his next slip-up won't be the thing that clues you in to his emotional state

He's living on pins and needles, and he's even tempted to try doing something actually flirtatious just to see how far your blindness goes

He compliments you one time, and nearly buckles with relief when your response is just "Oh, thank you Muriel."

He's not oblivious the same way you are, though, and he can tell that you're interested in him

It's what gives him the courage to confess. That and Inanna's, Morga's and Khamgalai's constant judgemental looks

Very proud of the shocked and delighted reaction he gets from you

He got so comfortable going unnoticed that now he malfunctions every time you notice him adoring you and take that as an invitation to flirt

Portia

Is this a challenge? She thinks this just might be a challenge

Or at least, it's her cue to not hold back

She's going to flirt with you relentlessly, obviously, in every genre she knows how to, until she finds out what your obliviousness threshold is

For science, of course, and also because she thinks you're hot

Physical touch? She's putting her arm around your waist to steer you through the crowd. Acts of service? Stand back, that's her forte. Affirmation? She can quote pages of compliments

Quality time? Spend the afternoon in her cottage! Gift giving? Here, she snuck so much food out of the Palace kitchen to share

More delighted than disappointed at your blindness, it's more opportunities for mischief and a good story to look back on

Does her best to see how interested you are in her, just in case. She doesn't want to find out that you were actually ignoring her all this time and that her actions made you feel uncomfortable or disrespected

Orchestrates a few heated moments that tell her the flush on your face is out of interest and not embarrassment

Confesses to you because she got tired of waiting and is impatient to start dating already. Unsurprised when you confess back

Very surprised by what it's like to have you respond in kind when she flirts with you

She used to say way more suggestive things to you, this is all it takes to get a kiss??

Lucio

Oh no, he is not used to this kind of neutrality at all

Floating around Vesuvia for three years made it pretty clear to him how the people close to him really felt. It was all fawning and flattery to his face and manipulation and politics behind closed doors

Everybody wants something. Everybody will spring at a chance to exploit. Hell, that's how he's used to functioning himself

But you're just ... helping him? Without expecting anything in return?

One moment, you compliment him, so it must mean you adore him

The next moment, you're confronting him about his mistakes, so that must mean you despise him

And now he's flirting with you because you're hot and it's like everything goes in one ear and out the other!

He's so frustrated but he can't even begin to get mad because oh look at that, you're being kind to him again while he's vulnerable

Multiple private freakouts when you keep missing his signals. Watching you snooze on his shoulder was just the beginning of it

He'll never forget it, marveling at the trust you must have to sit next to your enemy while his sword is drawn, fast asleep and oblivious to the way the first human touch in years is making his heart pound

Finally confesses to you out of desperate honesty. He's going to be a new man now, and he's not going to fake it around you

Borderline panics when you say it back

Get ready, he's been craving more of that physical touch and he intends to indulge

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Heather Duke x fem reader headcanons

Warnings: being queer in the 80s, internalized homophobia, brief mentions of sex (I might do full nsfw headcanons some other time), some modern au stuff is thrown in here as well btw

A/N: I know I have asks I need to work on but I wanted to write some queer headcanons for my beloved Heather Duke 💚(and I have NEVER written for her before so my bad if this didn't turn out well 😭)

First things first, I see Heather as a lesbian with comphet I see all the Heathers that way but that's besides the point so when she first noticed you she tried to brush off the butterflies in her stomach as jealousy over you or something

It didn't matter what she did to try to ignore you, for some reason she felt really drawn to you in a way she just couldn't explain (it's called a crush girlfriend look it up). You know that one song Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears? Yeah, that's how she felt every time she looked at you

You obviously knew who she was as one of the most popular girls in school, but you never hung out with her since you were part of different social groups, meaning the two of you first officially met when you were paired up with each other for some kind of assignment for school

The first time you so much as smiled at her she was gone immediately, practically melting to the floor in a pile of goo. It took her a good ten minutes to stop stuttering long enough to properly introduce herself

As you two got to know each other, she found herself being more and more enamored with you. You ended up taking over her every waking thought, until she couldn't do anything without thinking about you

She started to become increasingly agitated whenever you'd talk about friends of yours or other people who you hung out with- after all, she's a Heather. How could you not want to hang out with her all the time?

After a while of knowing each other, you let it slip (whether accidentally or on purpose) that you like girls, something that she genuinely never thought was possible before you said it out loud. Girls aren't supposed to like girls, they're supposed to like guys! ...right?

(If this is a modern au just play some Chappell Roan for her and eventually she'll get it. Okay back to the headcanons now lmao)

Grappling with the fact that girls actually can like other girls, she ends up impulsively kissing you based on pure instinct. She's so embarrassed when she finally realizes what she's done, but you're just sitting there with a dopey grin on your face

She ends up leaving right after, stuttering out apology after apology- what was she thinking, kissing another girl? What's wrong with her? She's one of the most popular girls in school, she could have any guy she wanted... but she soon comes to realize that the only person she wants is you

After avoiding you for what seems like forever (it was only for about a week) she finally approaches you again, with the intent to apologize and inform you that she can continue this "friendship" with you no longer

But when she gets to you and sees the way you look when leaning up against your locker, your outfit clinging to your body perfectly and the sound of your laughter filling the air over some dumb joke one of your friends said, she knows you've got her hooked, intentional or not

You shoo away your friends when you see her approach, a smirk toying with your lips as you watch her. "Took you long enough to come see me again. I was starting to think that maybe you didn't like me anymore"

Her face flushes red at your playful teasing, and the only thing she can mutter is a quiet plea for you to kiss her again, the same way she kissed you before she turned tail and ran. You eagerly obliged, not caring if other people were watching you

Even after you become an official couple, she still isn't super affectionate because of the internalized guilt and shame she feels over loving you. That's something the two of you are going to have to work on getting through together, as it won't just go away overnight

Depending on how you view the other Heathers (plus Veronica) they either won't care or will be fiercely protective over you guys. It's also possible they could be homophobic, especially Heather Chandler, but I choose to pretend as though that's an option that doesn't exist

Eventually she works up enough courage to initiate affection with you, at least she will in private. She's still a little bit scared about kissing or holding your hand in public (and for good reason) but you never push her into doing something she's uncomfortable with. You encourage her to take things at her own pace and to let you know if you need to slow down

The first time you two have sex, it's gentle and slow. You know she's never done anything like that before with another woman, and you want her to enjoy the experience, unlike all the other times she's forced herself to sit through having sex with guys who only cared about their own pleasure

She loves it when you wear something of hers. It could be as small as a piece of jewelry and she'll be giggling to herself like a giddy schoolgirl (she then tells Heather McNamara who joins her in acting giddy)

Oh and if you get something for the two of you to match? She'll love you forever (she already does but that just amplifies her feelings for you). It could be as small as matching keychains and she'll put it on her keys for her to look at everyday

If you know how to do makeup then she'll let you do hers for fun when the two of you have sleepovers with each other. Even if your style doesn't match hers she still enjoys it, and she'll happily do your makeup too if you're okay with it

Adding onto that, painting each other's nails and putting on face masks! She begs you to do it with her at least once, even if it's not your favorite thing in the world. She gives you a big kiss afterwards to show her gratitude

If this is set in modern times then you'd best believe Chappell Roan is her favorite singer, with Kesha and Ayesha Erotica following closely behind. She loves her so much, sometimes you joke about losing your girlfriend to her

One time she did her hair and makeup and dressed up to look like Chappell Roan at the end up the Casual music video and you nearly fell in the floor because of how similar they looked. The only thing that was different was her hair being straight and brunette instead of curly and red

She'll watch gladly watch Sapphic movies/shows with you but only if they end happy. If they end up being even remotely sad she'll end up sobbing into your chest for the rest of the day

The journey to her falling in love with you certainly wasn't an easy one, and sometimes she still faces guilt that's been embedded in her ever since she was young, but she knows she'd never be happier with anyone other than you, which makes it all worthwhile

End notes: this is unofficially dedicated to Shannon Doherty, who died recently due to breast cancer. Thank you for playing the amazing Heather Duke, you'll be deeply missed </3

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[vidavalor]

Your metas are keeping us all well fed, thank you very much. I have some chocolate tea for you? And homemade vegan cookies if you like.

What do you think about Crowley's "Can I watch?" he could have just said "can I accompany you?" or "do you mind if I tag along" or "I wanna see this"...

Allo, @procrastiel! Ya know, I've never had a chocolate-based tea! I would definitely be down for trying it. Thank you. 💕

In the scene you mentioned, Aziraphale is about to go around the neighborhood to tempt the Whickber Street shopkeepers into coming to The Meeting Ball. The meeting is scheduled for 6:30pm later that day, which is a Thursday. No one is going to want to go to the irritating work thing at this point in the week. Our introverted bookseller knows as well as anyone that half the street is planning on bailing on this thing. He can't have that happen. He has everything riding on this party. Both Crowley and Aziraphale know that Aziraphale is going to have to be persuasive to get these shopkeepers and traders to play ball and that some temptations are in store here.

Crowley is dryly asking if he can watch Aziraphale perform some temptations on the Whickber Street people because of how they use magic-related language euphemistically. He's joking that he would enjoy watching Aziraphale persuading the neighbors to come (heh) to the meeting because of how much he enjoys watching Aziraphale, err... perform temptations.

It's a joke on The Serpent always being down to, as he was eager to do in Lockdown, slither over and watch Aziraphale eat cake, ifyaknowwhatImean. He also, as we know, enjoys watching Aziraphale eat literal food.

The other layer to "can I watch?" is that the word watch means to stand guard and that is also what Crowley is doing while going around the neighborhood with Aziraphale in this scene. With angels and Shax sniffing around the shop, Crowley wants to be sure that no one bothers Aziraphale. R.P. Tyler should consider upgrading his idea of Neighborhood Watch, as he might be a lot happier approaching it the Crowley and Aziraphale way.

The original meaning of watch across several languages was actually in relation to the word wake and being awake. It referred to someone keeping watch, in the military and also on any manned ship, naval or otherwise. So, this is also a subtle sea/fish reference. Watch also originated from the unfortunately (as it is fun to say) obsolete Middle English phrase "wacches of wodnesse", which meant to stay awake throughout the night for "purposes of debauchery."

Crowley is seen in both seasons referring to this and spending time alone together at night a lot to keep their relationship a secret as their nightlife, as in this scene below when he's phrasing what he's saying in a coded way that is for Aziraphale's benefit. It's also part of of the wordplay in nightingales being descriptive of both their word-origin-happy hidden language and their romance as a whole. (Adding to the joke is that they were both, once, knights.)

But there is another word that connects to watch that Crowley and Aziraphale are playing around with in different scenes and that word is wait.

The word wait (and, so, waiting and waiter) comes from the Anglo-French waitier, which actually meant to watch. Phrases like to lie in wait come from this connotation of wait as being to watch with intensity and/or intent.

Crowley and Aziraphale play with watch/wait in a couple of different scenes. In Lockdown, they are also using watch in the sense of a timepiece/the alarm clock alongside the idea of Crowley waiting by bringing drinks and slithering over to watch Aziraphale eat cake. We'll look at Aziraphale using wait in the Marguerite's scene in a second. The joke for them is that the etymology of these linked words is also their own history together. It's this, basically:

In the Job minisode, Crowley waits on Aziraphale by "tempting" him with food on a tray and is pretty clearly getting off on watching Aziraphale eat. The first foray towards sex for them were the parasexual ox ribs in Job's cellar. Half the reason why we rarely see Crowley eat in the series even though various scenes and the book tell us that he does is because the food-is-food-but-food-is-also-sex metaphor means that they are using scenes between Crowley and Aziraphale involving food and drink to tell us about their relationship. The scene at The Ritz in 1.01 is the best example of this:

We learn so much more about them, individually and together, just by coming in on them on Aziraphale's last bite of dessert than we would have if it was structured differently and if Crowley happened to have been eating during this scene.

Aziraphale also plays with watch/wait in the scene at Marguerite's, winning at innuendo forever when he uses the above definitions but then also uses the meaning of wait that is related to allowing time to pass in anticipation of an eventual outcome when suggesting that Crowley wait in the bookshop.

You know, the place that is also euphemistically Aziraphale...

It's also present in the humor of Aziraphale throwing this whole Meeting Ball with Crowley in mind and so having the guy they've been terrified of for ages, whom they worried would be watching too closely and discover them (and who has really known forever) circling around with a tray of temptation tiny dinners, waiting on the entire neighborhood.

If you're theorizing and want to take it one step further into the story as a whole and not only on the level of Crowley and Aziraphale using this language between them?

2.05 is the start of the end of S2 because it is putting the bookshop attack into motion and that plot then carries over from 2.05 into 2.06 and leads to The Final 15. 2.05/2.06 is really like one, long episode. That culminating episode of the story begins with Aziraphale going around and successfully tempting the Whickber Street humans, with different levels of it needed, depending on the level of resistance with which he is met. Crowley goes with him, watching, right?

Now, jump to the much darker, nightmarish end to the season that all of that helps set up...

...where Crowley is quite literally forced to watch as Satan shows up to the business that is the bookshop to wait on and tempt Aziraphale... and then watches through the window as Aziraphale and Crowley temporarily implode.

[anzulvr]

Can you please write some Ryoma Terasaka x female reader fluff preferably a scenario like an original one out side of the main story. Like he's secretly soft for reader at times. I beg of you there is so little stuff on him. He's so underrated it's unfair. If you do this I will be eternally grateful.

Ryoma Terasaka who secretly likes Reader

— For the 3 Terasaka lovers out there somewhere <3 On purpose chapter soooooon (I hope) Also does anyone know how to make these divider thingies?! I want to change it uppppp!!

Terasaka is the type of person who really sticks around the people he likes. It’s not often he makes friends or really gets close to people, consequently, if he liked someone he would try to shrug it off and act like he doesn’t feel anything further from being friends.

It was working out for him until one day you decided to hang out with him and his friend group. You got along well with everyone in class and there wasn’t any awkwardness. Always doting on Itona (which kind of annoyed him), being super interested whenever Hazama tells you about the horror stories she knows (why don’t you listen that intently when he talks to you?).

You’ll be hanging out and he’s laughing excessively at everything you say. Then he catches himself acting up and gets straight faced.

Their group (as in the Terasaka gang) is pretty rough with the way they joke / play around, not that they really mean any harm towards eachother but it’s how they’re comfortable around one another so it comes naturally. If one of them makes a joke towards you that’s meant to tease you he gets all serious and defensive on your behalf. (Even though you didn’t mind to begin with).

Once you left, Yoshida pointed out Terasakas uncharacteristic actions around you and now his friends have the perfect ammo to embarrass him with.

Average disagreement:

“Itona, stop making those weird ass noises whenever you chew.”

“Stop making that weird ass laugh whenever [Name] tells a joke.”

Once word spreads around class that he likes you, no one will leave him alone about it.

Rio would be one of the main people bothering him, she knows it’s not really her business, but why would she miss the chance to mess with Terasaka?! She’s having the time of her life.

She has so much fun messing with his head. “[Name] doesn’t like guys with two toned hair.”

“[Name] only likes guys above 6 foot.”

“[Name] is realllyyyy into book smart guys so… good luck with that.”

He knows she’s making things up but he can’t get it out of his mind. So now he’s trying to meet your “standards” (that aren’t even accurate) and embarrassing himself in the process.

You think it’s nice (if you admit that to anyone they’re playing messenger and telling him everything.)

[gamerism]

Kiryu Kazumi is an interesting exercise in fandom, in my opinion. And I wanna talk about that.

[Kazumi is the fan created drag persona for Kiryu. Often Kiryu is genderfluid or exploring identity through her.]

Kazumi places a few tiers down the "non-canon fandom iceberg". She exists in response to Goromi who is already a very minor thing in canon, and was written as a Bit/with the intent to make an offensive joke about drag/ect, the fandom were the ones who made Goromi mean more than that. So Kazumi is a layer down from all of that already.

Despite her existence being entirely fanmade, she's not a vehicle for the fandom to cannibalise the source material into something unrecognisable purely for fanworks' sake. Though she might look it on the surface.

If the fandom decided to make Goromi mean something because she's the most blatant moment of queercoding for Majima in a long history of queercoding for him, then her theme is ultimately masculinity in canon.

Which is absolutely what Kazumi is about. Kiryu sits at the very beating heart of Like A Dragon's themes about masculinity. Be it toxic, be it ideals, be it the kind of appearances you're expected to maintain in the yakuza. Kiryu shoulders the heavy burden of them all.

We see him exhibit both positive and toxic masculinity throughout the series. But what the games have rarely brought up for him, is the rejection of masculinity in any context, or at least, femininity in equal amounts.

This isn't really surprising, if they're unwilling to make Majima say he's gay with his own mouth after using queerness as a means to Other him and make him seem dangerous, untrustworthy and even scary...they're certainly not going to have their shining beacon of Honour, Kiryu, do that. (Majima's queerness and coding has changed role somewhat over time and is generally more neutral or positive in positioning now. But even as recently as Yakuza Kiwami, it was being used in a negative way.)

So Kazumi serves the purpose for fans who wish to delve more deeply into that thorny complex relationship to masculinity.

[Kazumi In Kiwami 2 On NexusMods] By kiryussideburns.

Personally I find the idea of Kiryu exploring Kazumi as a means of escape, as a means of fully free self expression (something Kiryu has never had), really really interesting. I also find the time frame she's generally written in interesting. Most people place her post-2005. Kazama is dead. This is a hugely important factor in Kiryu's willingness to take the risk to explore gender expression. Kazama is not the kind of man who approves of any (perceived) weakness in men. In Kiryu and Nishiki's lives he's who instills a lot of toxic aspects of masculinity in them. I'd also hazard a strong guess that he's homophobic, though we don't actually know that.

The next largest factor is that December 2005 is the point where Kiryu leaves the Tojo Clan permanently. Kiryu definitely still cares a great deal deep down about his image and public perception within the underworld after leaving, but his day-to-day is no longer dictated by the rules of that life.

(Some people, me included, also dabble in Kazumi in 1988. But the same things essentially apply there. Kazama is in prison & as far away as he can functionally be while alive. And Kiryu is out of the Tojo Clan temporarily.)

As someone so enamoured with this exploration of gender expression for the character, I was floored when LAD Gaiden allowed Kiryu to wear makeup. Seriously, I had to go lay down to calm down about it when playing Gaiden day of release.

(Gaiden's lighting is very contrasted, I did my best to find a screenshot where you can actually see the makeup.)

The makeup, nail polish and pearl earrings in the Boutique was kind of unbelievable to me. I know RGG didn't really mean anything by it, that they didn't make those customisation options because they were going to touch on these themes. But even the hint of that in canon, it was so much more than I ever expected....even if it did go nowhere, as I knew it would.

It kind of gives me hope that Goromi might mean something more than just an offensive joke (in canon anyway) in the future. Or if not Goromi than something else, in LAD9 or such. Either way Kazumi will continue to be fandom legacy for gender expression, presentation and what the expectations Kiryu & other characters have resting on them mean.