#I really liked writing these! These were fun!!

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main short

Look, I don't know if you can tell, but I really like soulmate AUs, okay. Also, writing something exactly 500 words is more annoying than I thought it would be, but was a fun experiment.

Lightly inspired by this post.

Edit: there is a part 2 now!

Danny's parents were never concerned about the words on Danny’s wrist. Given their occupation, they thought Danny would meet someone while studying, or perhaps even lecturing on ghosts, or maybe as part of some other job in the future. Jazz has always been concerned about the words on Danny’s wrist. This is probably the normal reaction, given most people do not surround themselves with the dead. 

Danny himself was concerned about it for a while. But then he died. The amount of death surrounding him at all times, what with his parents’ study of ghosts, practically tripled after that. And suddenly the words ‘Is he dead?’ were a lot less concerning. Because in his life, oftentimes the answer was yes.

Not that he was always around dead bodies or anything. But the company he kept did include a large amount of ghosts and other ectoplasmic beings, that while they were not dead, weren’t technically alive either. 

So, Danny moved on with his life as normal. He knew what his words were, but was never actively listening for them. For a few years there he was barely hanging on to sanity, battling ghosts and trying to graduate high school. 

Eventually, life calmed down. His parents, unfortunately, died in their own lab accident. Danny was in his senior year at the time, and Jazz took a semester off of college to help him graduate and get accepted at university himself. Then they shut the portal down and moved on from Amity Park.

Jazz went back to Yale. Danny, who did not make high enough grades for that, went to Gotham University. It was there that he discovered he actually really liked college. School was a lot easier when he wasn’t fighting for his life all the time, and this time he got to take classes he was actually interested in. 

By the start of his second year, his life was looking up. He was majoring in mechanical engineering, and he loved all his science classes. He had a somewhat decent apartment, and was living without much worries on the money from selling his parents’ house. Gotham is not the best area, but it can be a really cheap place to live. And he didn’t see Sam, Tuck, or Jazz as often as any of them would like, but they were all happy where they were.

Which makes the current moment much more distressing than it would have been in his teenage years. As Danny looks at the now-dead body in front of him, then turns and presses his forehead into the alley wall. He’s seconds away from banging his head against it, but that would only give him a headache and would in no way help the current situation. 

The vigilante standing across the alley, on the other side of the body, did not move for a solid minute upon rounding the corner onto the scene. Then he asks, in a voice distorted by tech, “Is he dead?”.

This is not good.

[kitimeq]

surprise encounter 🤍 sylus 秦

pairing: sylus x reader

summary: You’ve been playing love&deepspace ever since the game came out and it became your comfort place now. You like all of the boys, but you have the highest affinity with sylus, who had your heart in a grasp ever since the beginning. Who would’ve thought that he shares the sentiment? And after your monthly absence from the game, he decides to pay you a little visit and finally confess to all of it (and maybe try to kidnap you in the process too).

tropes: fluff, angst to fluff, fluff to angst to fluff? fluff to angst to fluff to angst to fluff???? idk angst with happy ending!

word count: no idea, it goes on for days sorry

warning!: i apologize for any mistakes, i am not a native speaker of english!! if you see any errors you can write me a dm and i will correct them for sure ♡ and i think it gets better later! i can’t write for shi, especially the beginnings, and the second part was fueled by my delulu so it is probably much more fun to read 🤍

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You liked days like these: quiet days, lazy ones, when you didn’t have any errands to run, meetings to attend, or people to please. You could just stay inside for the whole day, reading your favorite books and playing cozy games, spending your time however you wanted. Today was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work until Monday and you decided that you finally deserved to have some rest after the last couple of weeks of almost working yourself to the bone due to the amount of the assingments you had to complete at work. You often had to stay after hours or work from home to complete everything in time. Your work was not usually that challenging, but there were certain times of the year when everyone at your job had their hands full and when it happened, you were almost completely cut off not only from your social, but also personal life. However, you never complained, because you actually liked what you were doing, and even if the occasional hard times were inevitable, your work brought you so much fun and satisfaction.

And today was a good day! You finally finished everything you had to do, so you could go back to your favourite game. You didn’t have time to play recently due to the amount of work, up to the point that you didn’t even bother to check in to grab some stamina. Usually, love&deepspace was an important part of your day - you logged in there at least twice a day, completed every task thrown your way and had a blast doing so, but these couple of weeks were so hard for you that you almost forgot about it completely. But even if you were too busy, you thought about the boys from time to time, as well as about the events that you were probably missing out on. You really hoped that if some new events had taken place during that time, that they did not involve Sylus, because if you had missed them, you would be slightly devastated.

Sylus was your favorite. Ever since the beginning, there was something about him that caught your attention. You downloaded the game after his announcement and haven’t looked back since. You played with other boys as well, but your time with Sylus was always the most memorable. Not only was he extremely attractive in your eyes, as well as the eyes of other players around the world, but you also understood his character, adored his little jokes and mannerisms, and could safely say that he made your life a little more exciting. You knew that it probably sounded lame to someone who didn’t play such games, and you were aware that he wasn’t real, but you enjoyed yourself regardless. In your real life, you had some experience with men and were pretty popular among them; however, you never felt comfortable enough to form more serious romantic relationships.

Here, with Sylus, you didn’t have to worry about such things. You were aware that he was only a game character and maybe that was why you were so honest with him from the very beginning. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you, misstreat you or make you miserable - he was created in a way that was supposed to make your playthrough enjoyable so you didn’t have to worry about your responses in the messages for him or your real life reactions to everything he said or did. You could just be yourself. And you loved how freeing that felt.

That is why you felt so excited ever since you woke up. Because you knew that today you could finally go back to playing l&d, and you could meet up with your Sylus after so much time apart. You quickly did your chores, spent some time on self-care to slightly relieve the fatigue from the weeks before, you put on your favourite cozy outfit and finally clicked the ”enter game” button.

And there he was. Sylus was standing in the cafe, wearing his extremally attractive biker outfit and you caught yourself sighing dreamily at the sight of him. You missed him so bad, you missed the little memories you shared and the sound of his voice. You missed playing kitty cards with him, catching plushies together and even looking for that bastard Tobias again and again. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.

“Hi Sylus, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” You said cheerfully, feeling kind of dumb for it but you couldn’t help yourself. You often talked out loud to him during your playtime.

You watched him blink slowly once, then twice, and you started to think that there was something wrong with the server because his response should have already been uttered. But then the look on his face changed. At first, he appeared really shocked and relieved, but then a little frown appeared between his perfect little eyebrows.

“Where the hell have you been?” He responded quickly and it shocked you. You didn’t know that they could swear in the game, but after connecting some dots you figured that it had to be included in the special responses after the player was away for some time.

“At work mostly, been so busy lately but now I’m back and ready to defeat some Wanderers!!” You fist bumped the air above you, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

You also noticed that his expression stayed the same. He was silent, looking at you through your phone screen with bewilderment, and he looked almost hurt. In an attempt to provide some comfort to him, you swiped your finger gently through his hair and across his cheek. However, when you touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into your finger, which made you widen your eyes in surprise. Was that always a thing? Was he always so responsive to your touch? It had to be a new feature; you didn’t remember him being so lively.

“Next time you decide to leave me without a word, I think I’m going to take more drastic measures, sweetie” He said while opening his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice he did look different than usual. More… realistic? Even the way in which he moved his body looked so smooth.

“If not for Mephisto, I would have worried sick about your safety. You can't do this to me every time you have more work than usual; you have to visit me, even if it's just for a minute. I won't exaggerate when I say that I almost went insane after the first week of your cruel silence” And at that you were completely stunned. Should he talk this much? He never talked this much. And how could he know that you had more work than usual? Was that a lucky guess on the studio’s side?

“That’s so weird…” You whispered and touched his hand to trigger some kind of reaction that would appear more usual than what was happening right now.

“Is that your way of catching me of guard? If you wanted to hold my hand so badly kitten, then you would have visited me sooner. I will not let myself be distracted by your cute little behavior” He raised the hand you touched and crossed his arms at his chest, while continuing to frown. And you were still so, so confused.

“Promise me that you won’t leave me again, I know where to find you now.” You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip gently. You started to feel a little bit out of place, you knew that he was not real, but he sounded kind of scary. His voice was demanding, and the part about him finding you? You shivered involuntarily.

“What happened? Cat got your tongue, kitten? Or did you finally understood the selfishness of your actions?” Sylus continued and you opened your mouth in awe. “Promise. Me.” He said slowly, his gaze unnerving. Suddenly you heard a series of loud caws outside on your balcony. The sound made you jump in place, and you dropped your phone on your bed. Was that a freaking crow?? Outside your apartament???

You quickly picked up your phone and cursed softly. You were going insane. You got scared just because the game had an update you did not know about. You almost wanted to laugh at how stupid that was. Almost. Because Sylus walked up to the front of your phone screen and spoke to you again.

“Why are you hesitating? Are you really planning to leave me again?” You swore you never heard him so hurt.

“No!” You said before you could think.

“No?” He answered immediately, which scared the hell out of you. “I am not sure I believe you. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” He took two steps back and closed his eyes.

That was when the game crashed. Your phone appeared to be broked too, after the colourful lines appeared on the screen, flickered a couple of times and the whole screen turned black. You threw the device away from you and your heart started beating so fast you could hear the blood pulsing in your ears. You were so confused and genuinely scared. Was there an update that switched the genre of the game to horror? You were stunned.

And then you heard the knock.

You almost jumped out of your slippers. You brought your hand to your heart in order to calm yourself down and you started taking slow, deep breaths. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. Besides, how did Sylus, of all people, managed to scare you so badly? You adored that character, and you should know that he was prone not only to exaggeration, but also to intimidating appearance. That was literally one of his characteristics. So you forced yourself to calm down and opened the damn door, because it was probably a mailman, or one of your friendly neighbors, and here you were making a scene like a complete psychopath.

One. Two. Three.

You opened the door, and at first all you could see was a huge cloud of black mist. You closed your eyes in order to keep the mist from clouding your vision and then you felt wind pushing you gently further into your apartament. You heard the door close and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Everything happened so fast. And when you opened your eyes your knees almost buckled.

Sylus.

Sylus was all you could see. He was standing in front of you, in your own apartament, looking so out of place that you wanted to laugh. The first thing that you noticed about him was that he was huge, you couldn’t really see past him, and the more you looked at him, the more real he appeared to be. Soft-looking silver hair, rugged skin, that perfect nose and those piercing eyes. They looked into yours now, and at first they seemed to be searching for something, and after one quick second they visibly softened. You could also see how his handsome, oh so handsome mouth started to display his signature little smirk. And that was when you started to tremble.

“W-wha—” You tried to say something, anything but your mouth was not working. You have never been so confused and scared in your entire life. “Who—W-who are—” He was starting to close the distance between you and that is when the panic finally took over your body. You flinched and went to take a step back, but you slipped on your soft carpet.

Yet you didn’t fall. You felt the gentle caress of the mist that managed to caught you before you hit the ground, and it streightened your posture so that now you stood tall in front of the man.

“Careful kitten, I do not think that falling on four feet applies to you.” He spoke out loud for the first time and the voice was so familiar to you. It was the same, deep, husky timbre that you loved to hear, the same voice that made you squeal in happiness, that lulled you to sleep countless of times. You couldn’t believe it.

“Oh my god, am I dead?” He laughed softly at your reaction and looked at you through his lashes. “This can’t be happening.”

”Oh but it is. I knew that I would find my way to you, I just needed time.” He said and tried to close the distance between you, but you didn’t let him. Every step forward he took, you took one back. “It was so hard to find you. But after you disappeared without saying a word I think I got desperate.” Something flashed in his eyes. You recognized it as determination.

He stopped walking when he noticed that you were getting too close to the balcony. He straightened his posture, and you almost released a gasp. He was huge. And he was real. Alive and so, so real, that you had trouble breathing. You were so scared, but at the same time, so happy to see him, that your body didn’t know how it should react. You just looked at him, taking him in, trying to assess whether it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you, or if it wasn’t some random man breaking into your apartment and your brain had created a new, fantastic defense mechanism. But no, the longer you took him in, the more similarities you managed to notice: the scar in the corner of his eye, his unevenly clipped fingernails, strong but dry hands, olive skin, slim lips, long, slightly furrowed eyebrows. The not-so-hidden gentleness in his gaze as he was taking you in himself.

“It’s really you.” You managed to breathe out.

“You’re so beautiful.” He answered and his voice was slowly starting to make you feel these similar butterflies. “So, so magnificent.” He continued. You felt your cheeks heat up and he seemed to drink that reaction in. “Will you talk to me more? You sound angelic. I did not think that you could sound even better than you did through the phone but I guess you will never fail to surprise me, sweetheart.” He did not move an inch. He just looked at you, and you still didn’t know how to react, but you were slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was not a weird dream. He was here and he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. At least you wanted to believe that.

“You’re still trembling. Are you really that scared of me?” He pressed his lips into a line.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just not sure what is happening. I had no idea you were… real.” He laughed softly at that.

“You wound me, kitten. Is that your way of unleashing your little claws?” He continued with a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t take it. He looked… stressed. And you thought that was new for him. You spend so many hours playing with him in l&d but you have never seen him so stressed.

Everything that came out of his mouth was slow and precise, not a word was spoken without a purpose. However you could see by his appearance that he was uncertain.

“Of course I’m real. And all the time we spent together is real too. Was it so wrong of me to expect that you would be at least a little bit happier to see me?” He was starting to look hurt. But not angry, not displeased. More concerned than anything, and that was when most of your worries started to disappear. He was your Sylus. He really was.

“I am happy to see you. I really am.” You said truthfully, the fear slowly dissolving. “What are you doing here? How did it happen?.”

“When you left me, I was worried to death. I had to come see that you were alright for myself.” He said, not taking his eyes from you. “I found a path between our worlds, and first I sent Mephisto after you. And that was how I knew you were fine, just busy.” He started explaining slowly and put two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This gesture was so familiar that you felt a slight pang in your chest. “Which l understand. But you stopped visiting completely and I panicked that I lost you. And that you lost your interest in me. And when you logged in today I guess I just lost control over myself.”

“I had to see you. I had to feel you. I needed to know that you will never leave me like that again. But how could I be so sure if you thought I was not real, sweetie?” His voice carried a hint of a ridicule. He smirked slowly and you allowed yourself to relax. You spend so much time with him on your phone, that you knew when he really needed reassurance. And it was the first time you saw him being so honest about his own feelings.

You decided to step closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. His body tightened because of the sudden change in proximity, and when you gently touched his hand, bringing it to your mouth, he appeared to be rendered speechless.

“I would never leave you, Sy. At least not without saying goodbye first. You are my safe space, remember?” You said quietly and smiled at him brightly, reminding him of what you had written in your game bio. And then you brought his knuckles to your lips and placed a soft kiss upon them. His hands were much warmer than you expected them to be. They felt harsh, but gentle.

The next thing you heard was a soft grunt and you felt yourself suddenly being lifted in the air. You yelped and found yourself pressed against his big, solid chest. Sylus hugged your body to his by wrapping both of his arms around your torso, and when he realized that you weren’t comfortable, he put one hand under your thighs and brought your body to his by your waist. You let your arms wrap around his neck and squeezed, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale your scent and his breath became rigged, as if he could not contain his excitement. You also became familiar with his scent. He smelled so manly and comforting, you could catch some notes of wood and leather, and something surprisingly sweet.

“You smell divine. You’re so soft, so warm.” He breathed against your neck and you felt goosebumps spreading throughout your whole body. You were so embarrassed, you felt like you needed to release some tension.

“I did not expect you to be so open with me. You’re usually the teasing type.” He chucked deeply and put his forehead against yours, while closing his eyes. Your cheeks burned. You couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.

“There will be a time for teasing you, kitten.” He rubbed his forehead against yours slowly. “Right now let me enjoy you for a bit. I can’t believe I finally got to see you.” He squeezed you harder to him. You reciprocated the hug with all you had. You were actually kind of scared that your grip was too hard, but he seemed to bask in it. “Communicating through that small device was not nearly enough for me. I could always see you and I heard your little responses to everything I was saying. But it took me some time to figure out how to change some things up.” Your eyes went wide at the mention of your reactions, you knew that a lot of times there were beyond embarrassing but you decided your blush to speak for itself. But what truly caught your attention was how he managed to appear in your home.

“Change things up?? You must have made such a mess, will it really be okay?” The concern in your voice made him look up and find your eyes with his. You were now looking at his beautiful red eyes, so full of adoration and determination. You could see that the consequences of his actions did not matter to him at all.

“Sweetie, I would gladly burn the world down for you, even if it meant that I could see you just once.” You swallowed audibly and proceeded to shy away from his piercing gaze. You started to feel unworthy of such attention, you couldn’t quite grasp what exactly made him care about you to such extend. “Fortunately for everyone, the process did not involve starting an intergalactic war.” He smirked slowly, his eyes finding your lips and staying there for much longer than necessary. “Yet.”

You chuckled at that and proceeded to bury your fingers in his hair, stroking the strands with care. They were so soft to the touch, they reminded you of silk. He closed his eyes and let you touch him to your heart’s content. Your hand quickly found its way to his forehead, and then to his cheek, stroking the skin delicately. You couldn’t believe how someone so handsome could really exist.

“See something you like, kitten?” He said and nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss right there. ”You will have all the time in the world to touch me, when we arrive in the N109 Zone.” He seemed so peaceful, so content with himself, but the mention of the N109 Zone stopped you in your tracks. You tensed visibly and he opened his eyes, noticing the change in your posture.

“The N109 Zone?” You asked puzzled. “Are you taking me away for a weekend?” You took your hand from his face and he used his Evol to bring it back to his cheek. The mist around your fingers felt weird, but not unpleasant.

“For a weekend? No, no.” He locked his eyes with yours, his head slowly closing the distance between you. He licked his lips and looked at your mouth once again. “I am taking you away forever.” And before his lips managed to touch yours, you flinched. Your hands quickly pushed him away and the panic returned to your features.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I meant what I said. Pack your bags if you believe there is something that I cannot provide for you quickly enough, and we will be off shortly.” He said matter of factly, kind of annoyed by the distance you decided to put between you. “Luke and Kieran have already prepared a room for you, although I think that you will have more than enough space for your belongings in mine.” His eyes brightened with excitement that you unfortunately could not share. Instead, you lightly pushed his torso, making him lower you to the ground grudgingly. His brows were once again furrowed.

“I can’t go with you Sylus. At least, not for forever”

“You can. We can stay together for the rest of our lives and no one would have any objections. I took care of everything.” He reached to grab your forearm and stroked it softly with his thumb. He was so sure of everything he was saying, that you could feel how much he let himself get lost in his fantasy. It did make you feel wanted, loved even. But no matter how happy you were that he was real, and apparently shared your feelings, you couldn’t agree to his plan.

“No, Sylus. I need to stay here, I have built my whole life in this place.” You could feel how much your words shocked him. He was looking at you so puzzled as if he didn’t think that you declining his offer was even an option. “I can’t leave everything that I managed to achieve, I really am content with my life, despite how complicated it can be.” You said truthfully. A part of you wanted to go with him, to feel safe and cherished for, for the rest of your life but you knew that was not realistic. You wanted to achieve more, you wanted to have your own life and your own space. You needed to be independent, to feel that you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself and your own needs.

“I do not understand. Don’t you want to be with me?” It pained you how quickly he jumped to that conclusion. And you hated the look on his face - it made you feel like you were betraying him.

”I do want to! Oh my god— I really, really do want to Sylus. I don’t think that I can live without spending time with you anymore.” You smiled at him, and took hold of his huge, rugged hand. “But I can’t live with you in the N109 Zone. I can’t leave my whole life behind.” And the fact that he wanted to make you do that somewhat scared you. Made you feel distressed.

“I see.” He sounded deep in thought. Then, he broke the eye contact for a second, looked at his hand in your hold and before you could even react, he grabbed your body gently with his Evol and picked you up. Your whole body was above ground and although you felt secured, you looked at him with surprise.

“What are you doing?” You wanted to get free from the hold of the mist, but it was impossible with how tight it was. “Sylus, you have to let me go.” You tried not to panic, you knew that you weren’t in danger. But he looked relentless, unforgiving as if his mind was already set in stone.

“No. I can’t. Not now when I finally got to have you.” He looked up at you, with his eyebrows still furrowed, and you could hear a hint of a growl in his voice. “If you do not wish to go with me, I guess I would have to take you by force.”

It was then that you felt a sense of panic. You knew him, and you knew that if he wants something, he always gets it. It just did not cross your mind that he would ever go against your own wishes.

“No. No, no, no, Sylus, please calm down.” He narrowed his eyes and stood almost motionless before you, devoid of almost any emotion. Almost, if not for the desperation shining through his movements. “You cannot take me away. At least not for now. But I will do anything you ask me to! You can also stay here for some time, and visit me whenever you want to, I swear, I would be so happy to have you.” You just needed him to listen. You knew that you could change his mind, he always listened to what you had to say, he just needed a little bit of persuasion. Maybe he didn’t even think about alternative options?

“And I would make you happy in the N109 Zone with me.” You laughed with disbelief. He was completely missing your point. You decided to once again yank your hands from the grasp of his mist, and then hissed with pain when it did not loosen up its hold. “Your struggle is futile, please stop, I do not wish for you to get hurt.” He was annoyed with you and your disobedience. He did not think that you would have any objections, he started loosing his cool.

“You would never let me get hurt.” You answered, wanting to assure yourself of it as well. You didn’t like how commanding he sounded.

“Yes.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Yes, you know I would stop at nothing to protect you.” His gaze never wavered from yours. He truly thought that what he was doing was for the best. And you just had to let him know how wrong his approach was.

“Yes! Yes I do know that! Because I know you, Sy.” You started to sound as if you were pleading. Deep down it scared you, send uncomfortable shivers down your spine. “I know you, and I know that you also know me.”

He placed his hand on his heart.

“And I adore every single piece of information. And I still wish to know you much, much better.” You tensed when you noticed that his right eye was starting to glow. You did not know if that was intentional, or just a trick of the light.

“Then you MUST know how much this life means to me. How much I like my stupid job, and how much I love the people that are here for me. My friends, my family.” You noticed that your reasoning started to get to him when he clenched his fists and avoided your eyes for a second. “And you have to know how much it would hurt me if you were to take me away from them.” He appeared taken aback. It seemed that his longing for you clouded his judgement, and now he started to notice the faults in his plan.

“But I cannot stand to be apart from you anymore, sweetie.” In normal circumstances that would be so touching to you. But nothing about this situation was normal, and you guessed you just had to show him how normal looked like.

“You won’t be. You can visit me anytime you want. Stay for how long you want.” You wanted that too. So bad.

“But that is not ENOUGH.” It was the first time you heard his raised voice and you started to tremble. His outburst must’ve thrown him off guard too, because he wavered and the grip he had on you loosed. You acted instinctively. You freed yourself from the mist and started to run towards your door. And although he was stunned by your reaction, he quickly teleported so that you ran straight into his chest. His hands grabbed yours in order to protect you from falling due to the impact.

He gently caressed your now slightly red forehead and sighed loudly. You could hear that he was hurt. You cried out from frustration.

“If you really thought that you could run away from me then you must be a total fool.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and lifted your chin up with his finger. “Usually I like playing cat and mouse with you, but I do not like the fact that you appear genuinely scared of me right now.” He hugged your waist and brought you closer to him, lowering his head at the same time. “And that you tried to run away from me when I only want to offer you my protection.”

“It doesn’t sound like protection, it sounds like imprisonment.” You used strong words, but you sounded so small. You did not know what to do with him, you were so scared. ”I’m just scared. I tried to run away because you scared me, Sylus.” You sounded desperate for him to understand you. To look past his own clouded vision.

“You do not have to fear me. I just want what is best for you. For us.” His grip on your waist tightened, and he also proceeded to grab your wrist.

“No. You only want what is best for you. You are not listening to me. I do care about you Sylus, but I cannot leave this place.” You tried to stand your ground but you two never argued before. It was an unfamiliar ground to you, especially when it was the first time that you had a conversation in person. Everything felt more intense and dangerous when you remembered the extreme measures he was always willing to take to achieve his goals.

“You can. And I will make you leave.” He almost growled and a cloud of black and red mist surrounded both of you, and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.

”Sylus, no, please, I don’t want to. Please, just listen to me, please.” And it was at that moment he started to came into his senses. Your quiet voice and your eyes full of tears made his breathing stop. It was the first time he was seeing you react like this. He hated how broken you sounded. How small. “I’m so scared, Sy, please stop scaring me.” Your voice sounded choked and you could feel that the tears started streaming down your face. Every single one physically hurt him. It was your first meeting and he already made you so miserable. He wanted to scream. “Please.” You tried once again and it shocked you that it finally worked on him.

He tensed and released you from his grip. The mist also dissipated as he took a step back from you. You could hear him breathing deeply.

“I cannot do this." He sounded panicked. “I did not want to scare you, and I cannot listen to your little broken pleas. They break my heart.” He hidden his face in his hands and curled in himself. He felt as if someone pierced his heart with a knife and twisted it. He could not bring himself to look at your beautiful heartbroken face again. “They really do. Please, just stop crying. You won.”

You sniffed softly and touched your wet cheeks. You tried to calm yourself down, he finally listened to you.

“It does not feel so good this time for some reason.” You answered, referring to your Kitty Card battles. You wanted to relieve the tension somehow. You knew that he didn’t want to hurt you, you understand that he lives in a different reality where danger awaits everywhere. You could understand why he wanted to have you beside him at all times. But it scared you how insistent he was, how brutal and final. “Do you really understand why I got so scared?”

He nodded helplessly. “I won’t steal you away. Not when I know how much you despise the idea of spending the rest of your time with me.” You noticed how hard he was pressing his hands to his face and you grabbed them in your own. He let you uncover his eyes and you saw how much it hurt him to let you go.

“Oh, Sy.” You whispered and hugged his hands to your chest. “You know that’s not the reason.”

“Stop calling me that. It drives me crazy.” He breathed and met your eyes. “You drive me crazy. What am I going to do with you? How can I make sure you are safe now?” You took his hands and made him follow you into your bedroom. You sat on your bed and urged him to do the same. This way you could finally talk with him more comfortably.

“Sylus, we have to talk about it.” You squeezed his hands and he looked at yours and took notice of how much smaller they were in comparison to his. So fragile, so breakable. He couldn’t stand it. His whole body longed to protect you. “I do not despise the idea of spending my time with you. I just can’t randomly leave everything I know and love. And this world is different from the one you know, we have our dangers but no one wants my head.” You explained to him slowly. “There are no Wanderers. No protocores.” He looked conflicted.

“I already know that sweetheart. I do. But when you disappeared for such a long time I couldn’t help but think that something bad happened to you” he gritted through his teeth. “I nearly lost my mind looking for you everywhere. It was terrifying, that thought in my mind and the idea that I would never have another chance to speak with you. To see you.” He touched your forearms and brought you a little closer to him. “And when Mephisto found you safe and sound I thought that I never want to feel that fear, that helplessness again. And the only way to do that is to keep you beside me at all times. To guard you with my own body and soul.” He took your hand and rested it on his chest. You could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his heart. You could feel his desperation, his complete devotion. And it almost made you tear up.

“I-I’m so sorry that I made you worry this much.” He studied your face with intention and you shake your head. “But I didn’t even know that you were real. I really though it was just a game that made me feel less alone and now…” You swallowed audibly. “Now I know that everything I built with you during our time together was very much real and I’m still having trouble to wrap my head around it to be honest.” I smiled at him softly and he nodded with understanding.

“And then you came in and wanted to kidnap me to a world much more dangerous than mine where I do not have my close ones and—“

“I did NOT mean for that to be a kidnapping I though that you shared my sentiment, and also wanted to spend some time—“

“SOME time?? Sylus you wanted me to switch literal worlds and live with you in your freaking villa in the middle of nowhere—”

”I live in an apartment that has a fantastic location, mind you, and you would feel so comfortable in—“

”Apartament??? You cannot possibly be a freaking leader of Onychinus and live in an apartment complex, are you being serious with me right now??”

“Have you ever heard of a saying that the darkest place is under the candlestick, kitten? Besides there is no one in the whole N109 zone that would pose and actual threat to me—” He cut off when he met your eyes full of laughter, and then he heard that beautiful sound. You burst into giggles right in front of him and you touched him by the bicep and brought his forehead to yours. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, understanding the absurdity of the situation. Feeling your forehead against his, hearing your adorable chuckles and inhaling your sweet scent made him feel so at peace that he closed his eyes to embrace the moment completely. He couldn’t believe that he almost ruined your relationship by being so selfish.

“I missed this. This back and forth with you” You said and he chucked deeply. “I really am happy to see you, Sy. And I swear that we will be able to talk and spent time with each other more often now. And actually see each other in person.” He nuzzled into your face more and you caught his smirk by the corner of your eye. “We can stay in touch at all times, so that you won’t have to worry about my safety so much.”

“So bossy, kitten.” He answered, but the small smile did not leave his face. He couldn’t make it go away even if he tried. “Forgive me for scaring you earlier. I was not thinking straight. I was just so elated to finally have you in my arms that I let my selfishness get the best of me, and for that I’m sorry. I did not want to ruin our first meeting, sweetie.” You hugged him by bringing your arms around his chest and he closed his eyes drinking in the proximity. You were too small, too adorable, too attractive for him to take it. Too honest. Too lovable. Made just for him to adore. To protect.

“You did not ruin anything.” You said into his shirt, hugging him tighter. “I understand you, Sylus. And I like you a little selfish if it means that’s what brought you to me” He smiled into your hair and reluctantly let go of your fragile frame. He touched your chin and delicately lifted your face up to face him. His eyes were once again drinking you in, committing every single one of your features to his memory. He sighed contentedly.

“Selfishness was not the reason of my visit.” You could see how his eyes softened and you felt your chest squeeze. You brushed his cheek, loving the way how he seemed to relish in your touch. His eyes wandered to your lips: pink, plump and so inviting. “Adoration was. The complete love and devotion that I have felt for you for quite some time now.” You gasped quietly and opened your lips slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Sy—”

“And I guess a little emotional push was what made me finally find my way to you, my beloved.” He half-whispered, leaned in, and pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a sweet, passionate kiss that went on and on, seeming to deepen with every minute you spent in his embrace.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

[jeonginsleftcheek]

By The Pool

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???

wc: 2.5k

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, pinch of degradation, reader is called 'slut' once, cum tasting, creampie

a/n: since i found out he has a lifeguard license on skz code i needed to write this🫠

masterlist

You thought it was going to be another boring month at the resort.

It was a place you knew very well ever since you were a child, your parents always took you there, every summer was the same.

Even now, when you were a student and no longer living with them, you couldn't escape the three weeks they wanted to spend there with you and your brother as a family.

But, there was nothing boring about the eye candy you noticed by the pool.

Every year, there was a new lifeguard on duty and though they were all fit men and women, no one captured your attention like he did.

There was something about him and you made it your mission to seduce him, wanting to have some fun and spice up your summer.

Quickly, you asked around since you knew the staff well, finding out his name is Hyunjin, he's your age and here on a student job, and most importantly single (though you have no idea how no one has snatched him up yet).

You came to the pool every day, happy that you bought some cute swimsuits that revealed more than they covered.

You made sure to be right in his view as you put on sunscreen, slowly spreading the thick liquid all over your body.

You saw him staring and gulping, before averting his eyes and acting unaffected but the tips of his ears matched the red color of his swim trunks.

Of course, you amped it all up with bending over as you spread your towel over the deck chair, showing Hyunjin your cleavage.

Giggling to yourself when you saw his eyes twitch as he adjusted in his lifeguard chair, you lay down with your sunglasses on so you can feast your eyes on him the whole time.

Hyunjin did his duty well and you watched him like a hawk, any time he had to jump in, he would toss his shirt off and you loved to admire his muscles.

He was made to be in water, looked so natural as he swam and he did his job perfectly, making it obvious why he was hired.

By the fifth day, you got fed up with exchanging looks and nothing else so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

If he wasn't gonna approach you, you were gonna do it yourself.

It was a nice sunny Friday, not that you really cared what day it was since you were on vacation, the day was only important because you planned on having Hyunjin all to yourself today.

As per usual, you watched him work and he stole glances at you as much as he could.

After some kid was making a mess in the water and Hyunjin had to jump in to stop them, you watched his wet body, the clear droplets of water running down his back and shoulders as his muscles flexed.

The summer heat was nothing compared to the heat erupting inside you.

You waited patiently for another hour before his shift ended.

The other lifeguard then came to take his shift and you saw him and Hyunjin talking, which was your cue to stand up and run to the pool house where lifeguards usually leave their things and change.

You made sure no one was there and waited for Hyunjin to make his way to you.

You heard footsteps and with bathed breath you hid behind the wall like some stalker and almost laughed at yourself for doing so much for just some dick.

But it wasn't any dick.

You've never wanted anyone as much as you wanted Hyunjin.

Ever since you set your eyes on him, you couldn't stop fantasizing about him, every night when you touched yourself you imagined different scenarios and they all included Hyunjin.

You peeked and saw him get in and then you waited a few moments before knocking on the door and coming in just as he called out.

He probably thought it was one of the staff members, judging by the shocked look on his face when he turned around and saw you.

You giggled, as he gave you the elevator eyes, you were wearing your skimpiest bathing suit yet.

He quickly looked up as you cleared your throat, struggling not to look down at your breasts again.

"D-did you need something?" he stutters, clutching the towel in his hand.

Oh he is simply adorable, you just wanna devour him whole.

"Yes, you." you answer without even blinking and his face becomes red.

"Excuse me?" he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing up and down deliciously.

You chuckle and make your way towards him slowly and he takes one step back, colliding with the table behind him.

He quickly looks back at it, and you find the way he put his hair up in a little ponytail so endearing.

"I think you're hot." you state, standing in front of him now and his lips open and close a few times before he laughs awkwardly.

"Thanks. I- um think you're hot too." he says rather shyly, driving you even more crazy to taste him.

Your hand lands on his arm and you squeeze a little, before slowly dragging it up and down.

"Then, there's nothing else to discuss, is there?" you smirk and lean in, so close to his lips that you feel the shaky breath he lets out on your face.

"I- I- someone could walk in." he whispers and you chuckle.

"I don't care." you're quick to cup his face and crash your lips into his.

A surprised exclaim from Hyunjin gets muffled as you start kissing him and his eyes go from wide to fluttering closed as he returns your kiss eagerly.

Yes, he saw you by the pool every day and he knew what you were doing.

He wanted you just the same as you wanted him but he enjoyed watching you struggle and try hard to get his attention even though you already had it.

He smirked to himself as your bathing attire became more revealing every day and he knew you were slowly losing patience.

Hyunjin wanted you to hunt him down and now that you were here, he decided to reciprocate and show you how much he's been wanting you too.

As the kiss deepens, Hyunjin's tongue swiping over yours and tasting you, his hands slide to your waist and he squeezes before gripping you and swiftly moving the two of you until you were pressed into the wall.

You gasp as he leans back to look at you, a sly smirk on his face.

"You were tempting me on purpose, weren't you princess?" he said in a sultry voice, his hand caressing your cheek, fingertips sliding down to your neck to touch your sensitive spot.

"Was I that obvious?" you tease, letting your hands finally roam free on his hot shoulders, arms and chest.

"Mhm. Waving those tits in my face constantly. Wiggling your ass. What if some poor soul drowned because of your distractions, hm?"

"That wouldn't happen, you're too good at your job." you smirk and he chuckles.

"Sweet talking me won't get you out of this. You're gonna get exactly what you wanted, princess." Hyunjin smirks.

Before you could even realize what's happening, he grabs the strings of your bottoms and swiftly undoes them, letting it fall down and reveal your wet cunt to him.

You gasp, your heart beating hard in your chest in thrill as he hoists your leg up and you hook it around him.

"Is this what you imagined, hm?" he asks with the same smirk as he runs his fingertips on your wet folds, pressing them into your clit every time he comes up.

"Y-yes." you moan, chasing his touch as you rub against his hand and he chuckles, his other hand gripping your breast harshly.

You slide your hands back and undo the strings on the top part of your bikini and Hyunjin helps you with the strings around your neck, the item falling down on the floor as you keep staring into his eyes.

Hyunjin hovers over you, leaning in to kiss you passionately, his lips are so soft but desperate against yours, his tongue is wild like he is trying to remember the way you taste forever as his teeth nip into your bottom lip.

You moan when he starts pinching your nipples and playing with your tits, his fingers pressed into your sensitive clit, massaging it in circles.

You're going crazy as his lips lower to kiss your neck and you can't help grinding against his hand, your wetness spreading all over his fingers as Hyunjin bites into your skin, squeezing and fondling your breast.

"You want my fingers, princess?" he says into your neck before licking a stripe over the bite mark he left on your flesh.

"Yes." you whimper, gripping at his arm.

"Beg." he leans back to look at you and you want to slap him but you know you're too far gone to be snappy.

"Please, fuck me with your fingers." you bat your eyelashes at him and he smirks again, pushing his fingers into you immediately.

"Ah!" you moan as you take him in easily and he lets out a low chuckle.

"You're such a desperate slut. Letting some stranger finger you in a pool house." he laughs, fucking you semi-fast immediately and you moan loudly, meeting his thrusts and not giving a single fuck about someone hearing you.

"So good that you can't even speak?" he fucks into your sweet spot, his thumb pressing into your clit as he presses you against the cold wall, a contrast to your heated body.

"H-Hyunjin." you moan and he chuckles, of course you know his name.

"Say my name louder." he looks at you with a cocky smile and you stutter for a moment as he fucks you harder and faster.

Your legs shake and you hold onto him as he keeps scissoring you open for him, nothing coming out of your lips except his name.

"Cum on my fingers, princess." Hyunjin whispers in your ear as your nails dig into his shoulders, your whole body shaking against him as he keeps plunging into you, the squelching sounds of your arousal filling up the room.

"Ah! Hyunjin!" you whimper loudly as you squirt all over his hand, grinding against him to ride your high as he observes you.

"Taste." he pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty as he brings them to your trembling lips.

You wrap them around his digits instantly, sucking on them and licking them clean as he keeps eye contact.

As soon as he pulls his fingers out, his lips are on yours again, kissing you hungrily as he grabs your other leg, effectively lifting you up and making you squeal as he leads you to the couch.

You're thrown down on it, albeit gently before he quickly takes his swim trunks off and your mouth waters at the sight of his dick.

He is perfect everywhere, you think as your eyes roam all over his sexy body.

Hyunjin is quick to kneel between your legs with a smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't have any condoms." he chuckles at the reality of the situation.

Even though he knew you were trying to seduce him every day, it's not like he thought you were actually going to come in after him today and kiss him so he wasn't prepared.

"I'm clean. Please." you whine, your legs wrapping around him and bringing him closer.

Hyunjin chuckles again, he can't believe you are so desperate to have him.

"Okay, princess. You think you can take it?" he gives you another smirk, sliding the head of his hard cock on your soaked folds.

You whimper as you look at his length and nod quickly.

"Yes, I can take it." you're almost breathless and Hyunjin pushes in, making you moan at the feeling.

His fingers couldn't prepare you completely for his cock but the stretch is delicious and your pussy welcomes him eagerly.

"Shit, you feel so good!" Hyunjin whines as he bottoms out, pushing his entire length inside you and filling you up perfectly.

He leans down as his arms cage you, kissing you sloppily before he leans back and starts fucking you at a steady pace, making your orgasm build up already.

You gasp and moan, spreading your legs more as you take him, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you feel even hotter.

You've never been this wet, your pussy pulsating in arousal as you moan loudly, your body shaking and feeling like you're going to explode any second.

Hyunjin looks down at you darkly, low moans escaping his lips as he keeps trying to bury himself deeper inside your warmth, so close to losing control over himself as your pussy constantly clenches around him, gripping his hard cock.

Hyunjin grabs your breast and your thigh, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder as you whine loudly, the new angle making you feel like he's fucking his cock even deeper inside you and his eyes roll back as he fucks into you harder.

You're so loud that if someone passes by they can 100% hear you moan Hyunjin's name as you grab his ponytail and pull on it while you cum all around his throbbing cock.

"Fuck!" Hyunjin almost growls as his hips stutter, fucking you with even more fervor as he chases his high, his hand leaving bruises in the soft skin of your thigh.

"Gonna cum." he whines, wanting to pull out but you grip at him.

"Cum inside me, I want it so bad." you groan, your eyes filling up with tears of pleasure as the head of his cock keeps brushing against your cervix.

"Fuck, you're so dirty, princess." Hyunjin pants, the sight of him all sweaty and flushed above you takes you over the edge and you cum again, clenching hard around him, his name slipping off your lips once again.

His eyes widen as his cock twitches and he unexpectedly cums hard inside you, spurts of the hot liquid painting your insides and filling you up.

Hyunjin collapses on top of you as he feels you still clenching around his now soft member.

It's quiet for some time and just then you realize that you can hear all the sounds from the pool and some people walking and talking next to the pool house, making you realize that everyone probably heard you fucking.

Hyunjin lifts up to look at you and something tugs at your heart, making your stomach fill up with butterflies.

"What's your name?" he asks and you burst out laughing, realizing you never even introduced yourself properly.

"Y/n." you answer and he smiles.

"Y/n. Pretty name for a pretty girl." Hyunjin leans in to kiss you, his cock slipping out of you and you feel the trickle of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

"Are you free tonight?" he asks, his lips traveling on your cheeks, you jaw and your neck, making you shiver as you caress his upper back.

"Depends what you're offering." you smirk and he looks at you.

"Dinner, movies, a walk on the beach?" he asks and you giggle.

"With a happy ending, of course." you say.

"As many happy endings as you want, princess." Hyunjin chuckles.

"Then I'm free." you say and he smiles before kissing you again.

This is going to be a fun summer.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[totalswag]

hey i love your work so much and if it’s not to much go ask i was wondering if you could do a fic where fem!reader is part of the cast on obx and she is really close friends with drew where they are flirting and what not and everyone ships them and they are at an interview with the rest of the cast and that gets brought up? sorry if that doesn’t make sense! if you don’t have time it’s completely

behind the scenes ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you so much lovie!! i'm open to take requests and write them. i've thought of this concept before and all i gotta say is thank you for requesting this because I NEED THIS!! super sorry for not posting for a small while, there were stuff i needed to take care of first.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary having a close relationship with drew that send hints to fans they like each other based on the way they flirt with each other.

warning(s) flirting, shipping, co-stars secretly like each other?

Being apart of the Outer Banks cast has been such a blessing. You've created relationships with people you consider family now and who you can count on no matter what the circumstances are. Being on set for weeks on end filming scenes and making memories is what you look forward to most.

You grew closer with Drew Starkey because your characters are dating in the show and always next together on set too. Drew has become someone that you consider very important in your life.

You joined the Outer Banks cast during the second season. Drew appeared in a couple appearances near the end of the season, implying that he is interested in someone— love interest. You recall fans going nuts trying to figure out if this will continue. Fast forward two seasons, and your characters are together.

After a long day of filming, the cast decided to gather for dinner at a local beachside restaurant. The atmosphere was vibrant, with laughter and the sound of waves breaking on the shore. You and Drew were seated next to each other, much to the joy of your cast members, who were closely watching your interaction with Drew.

"Drew, look at the camera," you softly sang, your phone in your hand on the table, Drew in the frame of the video— he was speaking to Rudy across the table. He gives you a look that shows he knows you are heard before looking down at your phone and waving.

"Oh! "Hello there," he smiles even more when he sees himself on the screen—you giggle at the end of the video before sharing it to your Instagram story. 

"You posted it on your story?" he inquires, his body language focused solely on you. "I obviously had to; it was cute," you said as you placed your phone on the table next to your wallet. You suddenly felt nervous in front of Drew.

He raises his eyebrows in satisfaction. "Cute, huh?" He smirks and smiles, patting your thigh.

Fans began to ship you and Drew together as your relationship grew. The chemistry between you two is clearly obvious on and off screen, which is why you perform scenarios so well. Fans go berserk every time you post something on social media about Drew.

You two flirt without even realizing it at times. You will compliment each other as if you were a relationship, but this is nothing out of the norm for you two. Even your cast members have boarded the train and made a few comments about when you'll finish up together. 

You can't lie, he's an attractive young man. There's no doubt about that.

Few hours after you posted on your story, fans have been discussing the video you shared in which Drew looks at you as if you are the most beautiful person on the planet and no one else is present.

Today, you and the cast will be doing interviews all day to promote Season four. For the first portion, everyone will sit in the same room as the interviewer, but thereafter everyone will be separated.

"Alright, everyone," said the interviewer, "we've got some fun questions from fans today, and they're dying to know more about the dynamic between some of our favorite cast members."

Everyone said "Oooo," anxious to see what else the interviewer would say.

"Let's start with a fan favorite," the interviewer added, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "There's been a lot of talk about the chemistry between you two." She pointed to Drew and you. "Care to share any insights on that?"

Your stomach dropped.

The question hung in the air, drawing a chorus of “Oohs” and playful nudges from the cast. You felt your cheeks heat up as you exchanged a glance with Drew. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips

"Well," Drew said, leaning in slightly. "Y/N and I have always been close. We simply clicked, you know?"

"Really?" the interviewer asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Because the way you two flirt on and off set is pretty convincing."

You laughed and shook your head. "We simply have fun with it. Drew is a terrific person, and we like joking around. "It keeps things moving on set."

"From our first reading together, I knew she was going to be a great co star of mine and we've formed an amazing bond throughout the years" Drew says with his hands. In gratitude, you give him a pat on the back.

Your cast mates' eyes are constantly drawn to you and Drew since they can tell you have mutual feelings for each other. Granted, you two have scenes together all the time and have developed a strong bond. However, you consider being more than friends with him.

The interview continued on with more questions popping up that were exciting to answer. In the back of your mind you were thinking about the question about Drew and you— do you want more?

Later that evening, you and Drew returned to your apartment and relaxed in your living room. The city lights outside your window gave a soft glow across the room, and the steady hum of the air conditioner broke the silence. You'd both changed into more comfortable clothes, eager to relax after a long day.

"Today was something, huh?" Drew murmured, breaking the silence as he sprawled down on your couch, seemingly at peace.

"Yeah, it was," you said, sitting next to him. "They really went all in on the whole shipping thing."

Drew chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart race. "Yes, they did. "Makes you think, doesn't it?"

He sat up, his face instantly serious. "About Us. I mean, everybody sees it. Hell, we see it, don't we?

Your breath became locked in your throat. The playful flirtation, the lingering touches, the way your heart raced whenever he was close—it all hinted at something more than friendship. However, hearing him say it aloud was another. It made it real.

"I suppose we do," you confessed gently.

my taglist!!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@ifwfratboychris @chenslucy @rosezza @rafeyslamb @runningfrom2am @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @drewsephrry @francislovergirl @diqldrunks @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @superlegend216

[ilikelookingatthings]

likelookingatthings Go full metal alchemist ford!

greycoffeethe amount of angst an AU like this can create... dang i need this as a fic so bad

ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee The fact when you commented this so I told my sister and she isn't even in the gravity falls fandom...yet immediately pingponged alternate ways a full mental alchemist gravity falls fic au could go.

Stan as Edward whose brother's body was lost like al as a parallel to ford accidentally getting sucked in the portal and how stan was burned with a reminder.

. The burning house losing identity parallel to not turn back til he gets his brother back. A version where ford's soul was lost but not his body and Stan gets punched in that white void like when Ed sees his brother.A version where like normal full mental fird is in a suit like al and lost his body.

A version where Stan has to pretend to be his alchemist brother but can't do alchemy...just conning his way into people believing it.

How you coukd mix different aspects together. Professor Markov with his research and paranoia similar to ford. How maybe they tried to mess with a taboo. Like maybe they were trying to bring someone back....or maybe ford got tricked by the hulunculi becayse ifvhisctendency to push boundaries in research bht realized he went too far or something..aspect of government conspiracies and how the philosophers stone also connects gold/wealth which stan was obsessed with.

Even brought up a thought if a Stanford stanely parallel with greed and the prince. And a unending options defending on what ratio you lean toward .

Greycoffe@ THESE ARE SUCH GOOD IDEAS HOLY SHIT?? like another idea I got from one of yours is Dip&Mab being Ed&Al and after trying to bring back their dead loved one, have to move in with Stan (this version's Pinako) who's taking care of Pacifica (can be someone else, but I thought she'd be a cute love interest for either twin).

greycoffee i really enjoyed reading your ideas but I cannot for the love of me write out a fully fleshed out fic bc I'm already writing other AUs 😭 (i shall keep this in my notes however :3)

Ford could possibly be someone like Hohenheim with Bill being the homunculus in the flask, etc etc

ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee Ooooh that's fun! Cuz Pacifica abd windy are blonde..also some potential if she represents king Bradley's kid. What with her family being rich and the theme of corruption of rich government people. There is also the option of what if Stan if Stan is the alchemist teacher.....

ooooh or if dipper and Mabel represent Edward while stan is al.Personally off arc I'd picture her as from the north fortress from the Armstrong family.

or that guy with a mustache from the mining town who gets overthrown by the siblings meddling who gets caught up in shenegans and petty talks of revenge but who slowly gets a arc if being a better person.

Huh...just realized Pacifica could also be greed, the prince or Mei since her sense of importance and need to make her family happy and her struggle to understand friends.

Want to throw out there fiddleford could be doctor Markov. And for fun and not for real...Barry the butcher as stan.

Though if Pacifica is winry would that make that ghost who hates her family scar? Though if she's a Armstrong would that make sloth the ghost?

Honestly I get the feeling. I'm so behind on getting through my fanfiction tabs the thought of writing myself even when I have ideas to chew on can feel like too much at times.

I'm gonna reblog this conversation. See if anyone else wants to chew on this bone.

Extra thought...stanley and fird as Riza and mustang considering the trying to become mayor plot line and who we knkw gets injured in the end.

Also a funny imagine is while adjusting ages xan wirk...just imagine all the characters the same age in gravity falls and things get ten times more hilarious (or sad depending) cuz the government has a bunch of kid employees running things. Just imagine old stan and ford as the elric Brothers while the kid superiors are dipper and Mabel.

Was inspired by this

Ford "Icarus didn't flap hard enough" Pines

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 9: The One Where You Choose Your Own Brazilian Adventure

My planned post – the “In Dedication of JVN” one where I fangirl over Jonathan Van Ness and what a fun and interesting piece of the Lukola puzzle he is – was derailed today because I was once again asked about Brazil. Well, more specifically, I was asked about whether I thought we were ever going to get those steamy, hopefully X-rated pictures, from Brazil. There’s pictures?!

In truth, I thought we’d collectively squeezed that grapefruit dry and left the rind somewhere between Italy and the Glamour Awards.

Alas, here I am writing about Brazil.

It’s funny because I’ve never thought much about Brazil. I know, I know! How could I possibly type those words without my nose growing six inches in front of my face? Well, it’s because it was always Australia that intrigued me. More on that later…

So why exactly do we believe there are pictures from Brazil? And, why do we think they are going to prove some kind of hot affair between Luke and Nicola? This theory is likely fueled by rumor; rumor born from how Luke and Nicola behaved towards each other while they were in Brazil.

I thought it would be fun to play a little game of “Choose Your Own Adventure” to determine if we’re ever going to see these alleged pictures. And, yes, I will be a very sarcastic bitch when doing this.

Before I start, though, I want to give a quick shout out to my dear friend, whom I shall call The-One-Who-Drops-Random-Pics-Into-Our-Group-Chat-and-Lets-Us-Sweat-Over-Them-for-Atleast-Three-Minutes-Before-Finally-Explaining-Them. She was a wealth of information about Brazil and even had a nice mother-daughter chat with me about the significance of a clean-shaven face (pardon me for never having dated a bearded man, which is odd because I find facial hair quite attractive).

Now, gather ‘round and I shall give you a little prologue to our adventure!

I’m sure most of you already know all about Brazil. In fact, many of you are probably self-described experts at this point. But, for those who are new here, let me go ahead and light the candles and set the ambiance for you. 

On May 19, Luke and Nicola were shuttled off to do their beach photoshoot in Brazil. You know, the one where Nicola was walking the dogs; Luke was strumming the guitar; Nicola was being all girlfriend-like fixing Luke’s jacket; Luke was gazing up at Nicola at the pub while she was touching his neck; and then there was that moment when we all thought they might kiss. Yeah, all that plus Luke’s scruffy face from the week prior suddenly appeared clean-shaven. Apparently, you can never be too “Casual” when you’re headed down south (pun intended – as was that Chappell Roan reference). And, about now is where I’ll “insert disclaimer that this is speculation only.”

The following day, we had the actual premiere. I’m not sure what those two were up to before the premiere but both were un-fucking-hinged by the time they made it to the red carpet. We had angel-face Nicola looking up at Luke like he had created the universe and Luke answering Nicola’s Little Red Riding Hood vibe with one sexy ass Big Bad Wolf persona. I mean, the bits and bobs that came out of Luke’s mouth that day! “There’s a carriage downstairs.” “I mean, in this heat, all I’m thinking about is when we didn’t have to wear clothes ‘cos that would be quite nice right now.” “I mean the show is proof that it is [okay to kiss your friends].” With Nicola whispering back, “This is true.” Then there was Luke taking that mic without taking his eyes off Nicola. We had Luke helping Nicola put on her bracelets because – God forbid! – she let go of him for 30 seconds to do it her fucking self. And, let’s not forget about the two of them holding on to each other behind that woman’s back (I’m sorry, I don’t recall her name and I’m too lazy to look it up – mainly, because I’m certain most of you don’t really care about that other woman).

We were also given snippets of Luke and Nicola at the premiere afterparty, looking like two people who, at a minimum, enjoyed each other’s company. They greeted fans outside the venue and, as they walked away together, Nicola seemingly put her hand on Luke’s lower back as if to guide him in the right direction (go ahead – let your imagination run wild – it’s a great opening for a FanFic).

Then, throw in the beach walk with the giant security guard; the interview where Nicola was wearing the fluffy pink skirt and the two of them talked about Chappell Roan’s “Kaleidoscope” (seriously, those two were listening to that song together?); Nicola couldn’t stop giggling about the “meat” of the Carriage Scene; and Luke appeared perhaps a smidge too interested in Nicola’s answer about what she looks for in a man (which fit perfectly into Luke’s “Like, how nice is it when someone notices, like, your kindness or your sense of humor?”). And, we can’t ignore them seemingly sharing a tea cup and Luke reaching for Nicola’s spoon after she’d sampled a dish. Don’t even get me started on over-analyzing Luke’s “manspread” that day.

Let’s also not forget about the rumor portion of this Brazilian escapade – because that is what fuels the sexy hot pictures theory and the central plot of our storied adventure.

Rumor has it Luke and Nicola spent a lot of time with each other in Brazil.

By themselves.

In one or the other’s room.

On the beach.

By the pool.

There were also rumors of them making out in the hotel hallway.

The only evidence we have of any “alone time” are some pictures that were dumped on X of them dining together alone, without any other members of their team.

Now that the backdrop has been set, let’s go on my little adventure.

During the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, I was bored out of my mind. I grew up in the countryside. No neighbors. No sidewalks. No cable! Just fields, wooded areas, and my two sisters, both of whom had no interest in entertaining me that summer. My mother suggested I read. After boredom had dug itself so far into my being that I was left with no choice but to read, I finally ventured over to the bookshelf and grabbed the thinnest book I could find. It was a “Choose Your Own Adventure.”

If you don’t know what a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book is, then you (and your children) are missing out. Basically, you play the role of the protagonist and make choices to determine the outcome of your story. Sometimes you make the right choice and survive; other times you make the wrong choice and get turned into a little mouse that may or may not be eaten by a cat.

Here we go.

As the protagonist of our story, you are:

THE EMPLOYEE

You’re an employee of the hotel Nicola and Luke stayed at while in Brazil. You have sworn to maintain the privacy of hotel guests; you’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement of sorts to protect the privacy of guests, especially since you have access to VIP areas. You can be a housekeeper, a watchman, a concierge, a seven-foot-tall security guard, whatever tickles your fancy. Doesn’t matter – you’re all bound by the same provisions to protect the privacy of the hotel’s guests. But, in this story, let’s say you’re the housekeeper because – what’s that old saying – the only person who knows everything going on in the house is the maid?

You’re cleaning Nicola’s room and you find lots of signs of a man being in the room. In fact, you find a coat that looks exactly like the one Luke was wearing the night of the premiere. Oh my. As you’re leaving, you see two people making out in the hallway – headed straight towards the room you’re just leaving!  It looks like Nicola and Luke. What do you do?

Choice A: Well, you’re a pervy housekeeper so you pull your phone out and start taking pictures. I mean, those two are so into each other, they don’t even notice. You then run and play show-and-tell with your friends because you can’t keep a damn secret. Unfortunately for you, that gossip spreads faster than lice in a preschool, and hotel management tracks your ass down because, guess what, your friends can’t keep a secret either. So, congratulations on being fired. You’re meeting with the lawyers is first thing in the morning. Oh, we also need your phone and the names of all your friends.

Choice B: You respect the privacy of Nicola and Luke and simply turn and walk the opposite direction. Taking photos of them never even crossed your mind! But, damn, what a good story to tell your bestie when you get home, even if you don’t have “receipts.”

THE VIP GUEST

You’re a random guest staying at the hotel. In fact, you’re a random VIP guest staying on the same floor as Nicola and Luke. When you checked in, you signed a non-disclosure agreement. I mean, you want your privacy protected, too! And, heck, NDAs are thrown out like candy these days. You’ve seen so many at this point, you don’t even bother to read them.

You take the elevator up to your floor and, as you step into the hallway, you’re confronted with – goddammit, there’s two motherfuckers all over each other! The guy is trying to slide his key into the door, but the woman’s dress is so awkwardly large, he can’t seem to find the right slot! You realize the people look a lot like those two stars from Bridgerton, and your best friend, Effie, is a huge fan! What do you do?

Choice A: You can’t believe Effie is missing out on this excitement so, of course, you pull your phone out and start taking pictures!! I mean, that NDA you signed didn’t even cross your mind three minutes later when you were forwarding the pictures to Effie! And, because you can’t control what Effie does, she forwards the pictures to all her Bridgie buddies. The next morning you awaken to find the pictures all over X. Oopsie. You feel slightly guilty, and a bit peeved at Effie – but only until you’ve had your morning coffee.

Choice B: You take people’s privacy very seriously. Well, maybe you don’t take it that seriously, but it would be too difficult to dig your phone out of your handbag to take pictures. And, to be honest, Effie is the huge fan, not you. Plus, it seems the guy finally got that door open and damn, based on the sounds of it, he's unlocked something magical. Oh well. You’ll call Effie in the morning to tell her your story, if you remember it.

THE RANDOM STRANGER

You’re a random stranger taking an evening stroll along the beach. You love the sound of the ocean. It’s so peaceful…the sound of the waves… Ugh, what is that noise?! It sounds like – shit, it is! – two people snogging in a cabana about 10 yards away from you. Wait a minute – is that? Yeah, you think it could be! I mean, you were just at the Bridgerton premiere last night! What do you do? Without hesitation, you pull out your phone!

Choice A: You creep behind an umbrella and zoom in as close as possible with your camera! I mean, shite! You can’t believe this! How long have you been filming?  Probably longer than necessary but who cares? Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, perhaps a seven-foot-tall presence, and you slowly turn around. Fuck! Who’s this guy?! He takes your phone, drops it to the ground, and stomps on it, shattering its insides.  Asshole.  You bend down to pick up the phone, but the man taps your shoulder and shakes his head, “No.” Well, umm, yeah, I guess you best be leaving.

Choice B: You use your camera to zoom in on the couple. Snap! Snap! Snap! Then you get the FUCK OUT OF THERE! You tell yourself you don’t look suspicious at all, even though you’re practically running and your heart is about to pound its way out of your chest! Oh, thank God, you’ve made it to your car. You start it up and, like I said, YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! You get home and take a look at the photos! Goldmine! So, should you drop them on X? Maybe be a little see-you-next-Tuesday and try to sell them to Nicola or Luke’s teams? But, hell, you don’t even know where to start with that! Or, should you just pocket them for your own pleasure? You tell me….

The End.

Yes, I am absolutely being a facetious little ass! The above scenarios were for (the most part) my own entertainment. I mean, there are so many situations where these alleged pictures could exist (these playful ones don’t even scratch the surface). But, do the pictures exist?

If we’re being logical here, you would think that, if anyone in the general public were in possession of these alleged sexy-time pictures of Luke and Nicola, or had seen them, it would be all over social media at this point. I mean, ALL OVER. So, what can we deduce from the fact that they aren’t?

That the pictures probably don’t exist. Don’t shoot the messenger! Seriously, watch where you point that thing!

But, let’s say pictures did exist. Who is the most likely person to dump them on, say, X? The hotel employee, the VIP guest, or the random stranger? I would place money on the random stranger, followed by the VIP guest. The hotel employee, who probably has the most access to VIP guests but the strongest legal barriers, would be the least likely to photo dump. What is the likelihood that someone from one of these three groups – for example, a random stranger – (a) had pictures of Luke and Nicola, (b) didn’t drop them on social media, and/or (c) didn’t share them with someone who dropped them on social media?

I’m all for a good conspiracy theory but I find this one to be a hard pill to swallow.

Maybe one person can act as a lockbox for this kind of secret, but when you start including more people, the ability to keep something (like illicit photographs of two celebrities) out of the public eye diminishes rapidly.

Remember what Benjamin Franklin said, “Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

Unfortunately, this quote is incredibly accurate. The general public cannot keep secrets.

If the pictures exist, they are most likely in the possession of Luke and/or Nicola’s team (of lawyers). So, unless they’re going to sneak them on to X for giggles (I mean, it’s been known to happen), you’re probably never going to see them – and that’s assuming they even exist.

However, if you’re the housekeeper from our first adventure and you happen to have some candid photographs you’re just dying to share, just find yourself a printer – one that cannot easily be linked back to you – and print them out. Then, “accidently” drop them at the feet of someone who knows exactly what they are, and then give them enough time to take their own photos of them and send them to their best friend’s brother’s sister-in-law’s third cousin’s wife’s neighbor, who could drop them on X for us. I mean, you should be golden with seven degrees of separation.

[mlyscha]

↳ DO YOU FEEL... BONITA? ⭑

𝓼ynopsis. in which you replace their chap-stick for a red lipstick. the question is: do they feel bonita? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader. 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, kind of suggestive at jay's part, trendy. 𝔀arnings. curse words, mention of having a period, mentions of food, riki's kind of mean? , not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 2k+ 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: this scenario ended up being super basic, i feel bad for you guys (๑-﹏-๑) i haven't been really active, so i wanted to post something decent, but... i don't know, you guys tell me if this one wasn't the greatest lol also, i wanted to share a new word i learned a few days ago: therefore! now you might even see this word being casually used on my writings ><

― 𝓱eeseung: suspects... a lot.

"babe, are you leaving already?" you pouted, watching him picking up his wallet and checking his phone; expecting a text from enha's group-chat. "yeah, i'm actually running late," he chuckled. "they arrived?! 'kay, a kiss for you miss, before i'm gone." he kisses your lips and heeseung notices your nose scrunched. "what?" seeing him frown, you decide it was the perfect chance for you to hand him your special chap-stick. "your lips are kind of crusty, here," you notice an even more confused face expression coming from him. "what do you mean... crusty?" "just apply it! it'll surely make it better!" you explain, making him sigh and finally apply the red lipstick all over his lips - making him look like a clown. "okay, can i go now, princess?" you nod and he smiles, giving you a small peck before finally leaving.

an hour later you heard the door being snapped open, and that's when you knew: heeseung learned about the lipstick. "y/n! why would you do this?!" a sudden shout echoed through the walls of your shared home. "heeseung? baby?" you appeared, coming out of the kitchen with a mischievous grin. "what happened?" you asked, holding a innocent voice. "what have you done to my lips, y/n?!" his face expression was a mix of embarrassment and worry. "what do you mean? you look-" you let out a stifled laugh. "fine! you look fine!" "baby, no way this" he points to his red stained lips. "looks fine! the boys started to laugh at me and i didn't know why! even riki made fun of me!" your boyfriend whined with embarrassment. "now i know why the waiter started to look at me with a funny face..." "i still think you look handsome with your red lips." "IT'S RED LIPSTICK?!"

long story short: heeseung couldn't trust when you gave him a chap-stick EVER. he always makes sure to check the colour of it and even learned a trick to double check it: by pulling you for a kiss. and what can i say... you may have been caught a few many times.

― 𝓳ongseong: couldn't care less.

you were brave enough to make your boyfriend apply chap-stick while going out on a date night with him. in the car you told him his lips were looking kind of dry, and knowing where and how this night could turn out, he immediately took the chap-stick you handed him, applying all over his lips ― with abundance, highlighting even more the red lipstick you purposely replaced. arriving at the front, jongseong handed the valet parking his car keys, entering the restaurant with you. when both of you walked into the place, the waitress who works at the front door couldn't stop staring at your boyfriend; and you swear that if he wasn't wearing such an scandalous colour of lipstick you would assume she was flirting with jongseong.

anyway, after some good wine and a delicious meal course, you were sat beside jongseong, half of your back was falling to his side ― close to his chest. meanwhile, his arm was hugging your shoulder while holding your right hand, a romantic and intimate position to stay. your boyfriend would place kisses onto your forehead. during this whole intimate moment, you decided to make him apply more lipstick since it was fading. however, after a few minutes, you realised he won't notice it, so you took matters to your own hands, pulling your phone from your purse and asking for a picture. agreeing, you opened the camera app, revealing his subtle red lips.

"what is this on my lips?" he gently touched his lips. "what do you mean?" you turned your head to look at him, pretending to be curious. "sweetheart, what have you done?" jongseong asks you with a small grin, dropping his head to the side, shooting you heart eyes. you chuckle, amused. "i didn't do anything," you shrug. "you may have kissed the waitress, she is wearing red lipstick." he laughs out loud, leading to a few confused sights laying on both of you. "this red lipstick might stain your lips soon..." he whispers against your lips. "i can't take you seriously right now!" you giggle and he smirks, amused.

― 𝓳aeyun: "your daddy feels bonita, layla"

jaeyun enjoys going out for a walk with his daughter: layla. and usually, both of you go out together, and this time couldn't be different. however, the only difference this time was your boyfriend's red stained lips. you told him, while walking, that you've been using this new chap-stick and commenting on how much your lips have looked and felt more hydrated ― even jaeyun agreed. therefore, you pulled the famous chap-stick out of your jean's pocket and handed him, making him a bit startle from the way you casually pulled it out of your pocket right after finishing talking about it. you noticed he pondered a bit before applying it all over his lips. you smiled while he was doing so, finding this situation amusingly cute. he smacked his lips together, commenting after a surprised hum: "it's actually good, i can already feel my lips hydrated!"

layla began to feel tired, so did you and jaeyun, so, spotting a bench nearby, you sat beside your boyfriend while layla sat on the floor. and if this couldn't get better, your little family stopped at a crowded park, so as people passed by, jaeyun couldn't be ignored. "babe, why's there so many people staring at me? even girls! don't they see i am taken?!" he complained while pouting, hugging your arm. "right baby?- why are you laughing?" he frowned, even more confused when he saw you taking a sneaky picture of him. suddenly, a kid shouts: "look, mum! a clown!" the mum stares at you, at your daughter and then at your boyfriend, and she were clearly holding herself and not burst out of laughter. layla begins to woof at the kid, and you say: "calm down, baby, your daddy feels bonita, layla." "what does this even means-"

minutes later he discovered what that meant. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

― 𝓼unghoon: he has a convenience store phobia now.

you were craving something sweet in the middle of the night since your period has started, so you asked you gently asked your boyfriend to go to the convenience store for you and buy you a sweet treat. sunghoon, feeling a bit upset, agreed, since he felt afraid you wouldn't be able to feel better soon. with that, he covered himself with warm coats as you told him so. however, before he left you told your boyfriend to apply some chap-stick ― telling him the cold weather could break his lips. he simply nodded, asking you to apply it for him and you did it perfectly ― since he were sweet for going to the convenience store for you under the cold weather and at night. you stole a kiss from him before he was gone, trying your best to quickly turn your face away from him because your lips might have been stained by the colour of his.

"i am never coming back to that convenience store ever again." "oh, hey, baby," "y/n, why does my lips look red?!" sunghoon questioned with terror. "what do you mean?" you dropped your head to the side, faking a confused feeling. "y/n, the cashier was looking at me funny and even an old lady was staring at me like i was crazy!" your boyfriend explained, holding two plastic bags full of your sweet treats. "and then, i could not notice them staring at me, so the moment i stepped out of that place i pulled my phone and checked myself and i saw this... i mean, there were many reasons why they could be staring at me, and usually is because i am handsome, not this!" he points to his face entirely. you giggled as you felt his desperation. "you are so cute, i love you, even with your red lipstick." you kiss him on the cheek. "i am killing myself." he says with the most serious face ever, plopping on the sofa. "well... more chocolates for me." you shrug.

― 𝓼unoo: silly lovers hehe.

you watched this trend of replacing chap-stick for lipstick go viral everywhere, so you decided to try it out with your boyfriend. so, when both of you were sat on the sofa, you asked him for a kiss, and when he gave you one, you scrunched your nose and commented: "your lips are dry, let me get you a chap-stick!" he frowned, knowing that his lip care routine is amazing. but anyway, he couldn't reply it to you since you were already gone picking up that chap-stick. you came back holding it in your hand and sitting back on the sofa. "okay, mind if i apply it?" you asked him that because the lipstick's stick is bright red and it was way too obvious. also! you knew about sunoo's lip care routine and knew he was already suspecting something. "okay, go ahead..."

after you applied it, you quickly closed the chap-stick's cap, however, sunoo saw the bright red colour peaking out for a few seconds, frowning before bursting out of laughter. "what was that?!" he asked between cute giggles and a big cheeky grin. "what?" you tried to hold a smile from spreading across your face, but a small giggle came out of you. "why was the chap-stick red?" "i-it's because it is cherry flavoured, dummy!" you explained, but sunoo side eyed you, not believing in it. therefore, he rubs his index finger over his bottom lip and confirms: it was indeed red lipstick. "y/n!" he amusingly screams your name, making you run across the whole living room, before he caught you and forces you to apply it too. sunoo might even take a picture of both of you just sharing his funny moment >_<.

― 𝓳ungwon: finds out alone because his qi is 200+

it was saturday and usually, when jungwon has some free time, he enjoys going out with you and spoil you ― since he could spend time with you, gifting you things and making you happy. however, you wanted to play with your boyfriend before leaving, so, you handed him your special chap-stick and told him that it was a brand you really liked ― and he made sure to note that. jungwon applied it innocently, not waiting for anything special. smacking his lips together, he held your hand and took his car keys, driving you to the mall. entering the air-conditioned surroundings, you told your boyfriend you wanted to go get some ice cream before visiting the stores ― just to see how the cashier would react; and their reaction couldn't be more accurate: discreet giggles and a smirk were noticeable.

"babe, why was that guy laughing at us? do i have something on my face?" poor baby, you wanted to tell him YES! straight ahead, but you knew this was way too good to give up. so you just shook your head, leaving the kitten with a question mark sat on his head. while walking past the mall stores, you remembered you were running out of skin care products. therefore, you went to sephora to buy them. but, during your search, jungwon was looking around the store when he came across an isle with lipsticks displayed. he frowned when the same chap-stick packaging he saw earlier was saying it was a red lipstick. suddenly, he felt someone nudging him, so he turned to see he was it. "looking at our red lipstick collections?" a lady who looked like she worked there asked, and jungwon's frown just deepened. "um... red?" "yes! looks like you are wearing it on your lips at the moment, isn't it great?"

"babe, do you think i should get this vanilla one or this- ... oh, you found out... heh..." "y/n!"

― 𝓻iki: when they go low, i go lower.

since riki was messing up with you regularly, you decided to have your sweet revenge by making him wear a beautiful red lipstick! so you replaced the chap-stick for a lipstick and before he went to practice, you told him it was cold outside and his lips might dry a little bit faster. even though you were the one applying it, riki was insisting it was fine before giving in and letting you do whatever. you made sure to make it pretty much uneven and smudged to mess up with him even more. you gave his cheek a little kiss before waving him goodbye. the last thing you know was that your boyfriend arrived home pissed off, saying that the boys were making fun of him during practice. and you might wonder: how he didn't notice since a practice room has a literal mirror wall?! because, you know how much riki likes his hoodies? so, his hoodie's hood was covering his face almost completely! however, he noticed a few minutes into practice after one of the members point out and he finally realises.

after that day, riki's mind have been trying to come out with a worse prank for weeks. he knew that you were going to hang out with your friends the next day, so he decided to, after you were fast asleep, he would sneakily draw and write ridiculous things on your face and somehow try to convince you that he could do your make-up. surprisingly, you woke up the next day in a good mood and already forgetting about that prank you did with your boyfriend, you accepted it ― and of course he pretended to do it. when you left to hang out with your friends, not even five minutes passed by and you were already texting riki, saying that you were going to kill him ― and even sending a picture of your face, texting a hundred question marks.

riki were only forgiven because he got your favourite food that day, otherwise... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[capquinn]

Hey I love your Dad!Quinn writings so much! They’re so cute and fluffy! Maybe you can do one about mom’s bump popping up one morning and Quinn is like mesmerized, realizes that a baby is coming and his life is going to change. But he’s so happy. Only if you want to write this. Have fun in NYC!

The hoodie slipped from his hands, forgotten, as Quinn froze in the doorway, caught in the quiet spell of the moment. His breath stilled, his gaze fixed on you — on the reflection of you in the mirror, framed by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. You were standing there, one hand resting on the curve of your belly, your fingers brushing over it in a way that was both casual and deliberate.

But it wasn’t the same curve he’d kissed goodnight the evening before. This was new, different.

His eyes traced the line of your profile, lingering on the now unmistakable swell of your stomach. It wasn’t just a gentle hint anymore, not the subtle softness he’d grown accustomed to seeing. It was undeniable, defined. A bump.

His bump. His baby.

Quinn’s arms hung at his sides, his hoodie now pooled in the chair behind him as his brain worked to catch up with his eyes. For a long beat, he just stared, unmoving, as the weight of it hit him all at once. His chest tightened, his heart thrumming in a rhythm he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t panic, not fear, but bigger — something that was overwhelming in its tenderness. Awe, maybe. Or reverence. A sense of this is real that felt too massive for his chest to hold.

He tilted his head slightly, as if looking from a different angle might somehow soften the impact, but it didn’t. If anything, it deepened it.

His gaze dropped to your hand, the way your palm smoothed over the firm swell like it was second nature now. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, slow and shaky, his hands flexing at his sides. There was no mistaking it anymore — this was real. Tangible. The tiny life that had been nothing but whispers and plans and grainy black-and-white ultrasound images was suddenly here, making its presence known.

You glanced up in the mirror, your eyes catching his reflection, and Quinn’s heart twisted. You looked at him like you always did — a soft affection that grounded him — but now there was something else. Something unspoken, something shared. Something that said, can you believe this?

He stepped closer without even realising, the movement automatic, like gravity was pulling him to you. His hand reached out instinctively, tentative at first, brushing against the curve of your belly before settling there fully. His palm was warm, steady, fingers spreading slightly as if to take it all in. The bump was firm, more defined than he’d expected, and the simple touch made everything feel sharper, clearer.

“This is new,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion, almost as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile intimacy of the moment.

“It wasn’t like this yesterday,” you replied softly, your voice carrying the same quiet awe that was written all over your face.

“No,” he agreed, his thumb sweeping in a slow arc along the edge of your belly. “It wasn’t.”

For the first time, it wasn’t just an abstract thought in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just appointments or plans or future names whispered in the dark. It was right here, under his hand. The tiny, growing life you’d made together, tucked safely between the two of you.

His gaze flicked back up to yours, his eyes soft and bright with something unspoken. Pride, maybe, and then his lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile.

“That’s… really our baby,” he said, the words tumbling out like a confession, as though saying them aloud might help him fully believe it.

“Really our baby,” you echoed, and the way you said it, so soft but so certain, nearly unraveled him.

Quinn’s thumb brushed over your skin again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if tethering himself in the moment. He didn’t let go, didn’t even think about moving. His fingers flexed gently against you, holding on as though the world might tip if he didn’t anchor himself to this — to you.

He exhaled quietly, his voice dropping even lower as his gaze flicked back to your bump.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he murmurs. “To you. To seeing you like this.” His voice caught slightly, and his eyes softened even further as they roamed the swell of your stomach, his hands cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you — off the way your body had changed, the way it was carrying something that was a part of both of you. It hit him all at once, an overwhelming wave of awe that nearly stole his breath. The guys had joked about this, their faces lighting up in a way that always seemed a little exaggerated when they said there was nothing more attractive than seeing your partner pregnant with your child. He’d brushed it off at the time, but standing here now, he finally understood. You were stunning, and it wasn’t just how you looked — it was what it meant. What you were doing.

He kept those thoughts to himself, too raw and vulnerable to say aloud, but they lingered, stirring in the quiet space between you.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he said instead, the words escaping before he could stop them. He didn’t need to elaborate — everything he felt was in the way he looked at you, his eyes soft, his expression completely open.

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, a warmth rising in your chest that had nothing to do with hormones. He saw it immediately — the way your eyes glossed just slightly, your lips pressing together as if to hold back an overflow of emotion. You stared down at the curve of your belly, your hand resting over his, grounding yourself in the moment.

Quinn’s heart clenched at the sight. He hadn’t meant to make you cry, but the way your reaction softened your entire expression made his chest ache in the best way. His fingers flexed gently against your stomach again, his thumb brushing over your skin in a slow, steady rhythm, his way of silently telling you that he was right here.

Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say something but weren’t quite ready, and he stayed quiet, giving you the space to find the words.

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” you whispered finally, your voice carrying a quiet awe that made his breath catch.

He paused for just a moment, watching the way your gaze lingered on your belly, before answering.

“It’s real,” he said, almost to himself, as if to convince the last part of him that still couldn’t quite believe it. His fingers pressed a little more firmly, cradling the swell of your stomach with the same care he might handle something sacred. “It’s us. Right here.”

He could see the ripple of emotion in your expression, the way your chest rose in a deep, steadying breath. The way your hand tightened over his for just a second, like you needed him to hold you in the moment.

When your eyes finally met his, the look you gave him stopped him in his tracks. It was full of wonder, gratitude, and a love so profound it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t do anything but hope that you saw everything reflected back in his gaze: the wonder, the love, the quiet, unshakable resolve that whatever came next, he’d be there — every step, every breath. For you. For the tiny life between you. For all of it.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[aquaticmercy]

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely. 

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training. 

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while. 

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track. 

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life. 

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise. 

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier. 

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet. 

Today he was going to ask you out. 

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased. 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike. 

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning. 

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned. 

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you. 

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary. 

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted. 

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head. 

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling. 

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now. 

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back. 

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first. 

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?” 

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools. 

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose. 

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work. 

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element. 

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter. 

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly. 

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together. 

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said. 

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike. 

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather. 

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier—  it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment. 

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted  as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair. 

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. 

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached. 

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved. 

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap. 

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win. 

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Can I get a smau about them finding out you were a jujitsu sorcerer? Like you’ve been dating 4 years and you just casually drop it out of nowhere. Like a REALL strong one too (stronger than SUKUNA strong) ps. Let me be delusional pls😍

secrets pt. 1 -> them finding out you're actually a jujutsu sorcerer -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, suguru geto, takuma ino

ok, first of all: thank you for this phenomenal request!!!! I love fulfilling requests, regardless of what they are because I just love interacting with you guys & sharing my writing with y'all, but it's always so fun & amazing to get a request that I'm so genuinely excited to fulfill & that inspires me as a creator, so thank you!!!

secondly: I kind of took the request & ran with it. I had a hard time coming up with a solution to like, why would they not know about it if they were dating, like that's an odd secret to keep?? So I originally planned on making this a pre-relationship kind of situation, but I have such a hard time with that, I always feel like anytime I try to create something like that it's so cringey & forced, idk??? So I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you were asking for!

third: you'll notice the cast list for this smau is somewhat different than previous ones. I don't plan on keeping the same exact people or number of people in rotation for each post. When it comes to smau or writing in general, the last thing I want to do is force myself to create something. I typically don't add suguru to my smaus, but I felt like he really fit within this one & I had an idea for him. I didn't include any of the non-sorcerer characters because that made the most sense to me. In the future, if you'd like me to include a specific character (like suguru or sukuna, for example, who aren't in all of my smaus), just let me know; otherwise, it might be a mixed bag.

okay, fourth & final thing: this maybe only occurred to me, & if so, yay! but the whole time I was making this, I kept thinking that if this actually happened, they would probably never choose to have this conversation with you over text, & they'd probably have a much larger reaction. Those kinds of things are pretty difficult to capture in a 3-4 screenshot smau, if you know what I mean. Plus, angst is really not my bag at all; I wish it was & maybe I'll write more of it in the future, but not today.

xoxo, carlisle!

did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[halfmoonaria]

what i can’t say

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara wants the only person she can’t have, but she’ll do whatever it takes to change that —even if it means risking everything.

word count: 10.7k

author’s note: yall don’t forget to wish me a happy birthday this friday on the 22nd!

Tara wasn't used to hearing the word "no."

Growing up, she'd mastered the art of getting exactly what she wanted, whether it was a toy, a treat, or just a little more attention.

All it took was a well-timed look, a hint of a pout, or a small scene in a public place—not that she ever felt bad about it. After all, it always worked, and it always felt worth it.

But more than any toy or treat, Tara always seemed to have what she wanted most: you.

Her best friend since... well, since you both were small enough to think scraped knees were the end of the world. You'd been there from the start, the friend who laughed with her, who stood by her through every phase and whim.

Tara didn't have to beg or throw a fit to keep you close. You just were. It was like you were woven into each other's lives, and if anyone asked, she'd say you'd always be there—like you were something she'd managed to keep just for herself.

If anyone asked, Tara couldn't quite recall a time before you.

You were there in every memory that mattered, the friend who understood her quirks, finished her sentences, and knew every dream she'd ever had.

You were inseparable, not just in the way kids cling to each other, but in the way people do when they know they'll never quite find someone who gets them like this again.

You shared everything with your clothes, midnight snacks, and every embarrassing crush you'd ever had.

You laughed together about the silly things you thought were love back then, sharing conversations about who you'd marry someday and who had the best smile.

Although. Tara was always a little quieter during these talks, listening more than sharing, and you never thought much of it. That was just Tara, after all, always keeping a bit of herself back, tucked away in her own mind.

But when it came to your middle school crush, she never missed a chance to tease you, brushing him off as if he wasn't as special as you seemed to think.

She'd laugh and tell you he wasn't as funny as you made him out to be, or that his smile really wasn't anything to write home about.

To you, it was just typical Tara, always finding a way to poke holes in the things you liked.

You didn't notice how her smile faltered when you gushed over him or how her gaze turned a little sharper, though even she didn't fully understand why.

It left her with an uneasy feeling, the kind she could never quite explain, that made her want to change the subject whenever she could.

And as time passed during this time, it seemed like your crush only grew, and so did the way you talked about him.

No matter how many times Tara brushed off your comments or tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, you still lit up whenever his name came up.

Brian.

Brian slipped into conversations almost daily, whether it was about the way he made everyone laugh in class or how he'd held the door for you that morning. And each time you brought him up, Tara felt a pang of irritation she couldn't quite explain.

She never told you how much she despised Brian, but the feeling ran deep. It gnawed at her whenever you mentioned him, and even though she tried to brush it off, she found herself disliking him more and more.

The worst part was, she couldn't understand why. It wasn't like you weren't allowed to like a boy—that was just part of life, after all.

Whenever she hinted at her frustration with her mom, she'd hear the same thing: it was normal, fun even, to have a crush, and Tara would experience it too someday.

But she hadn't. She'd never felt that way about any boy in your grade, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she should.

It confused her, and in a way, it confused you too. You'd always laughed off the fact that Tara never seemed to "crush" the way you did, teasing her about how she'd figure it out someday.

But whenever you'd gush over Brian, Tara would just sit quietly, trying to ignore the strange knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten with every word you said.

Time went on, and those middle school crushes never quite faded.

Brian only seemed to grow more attractive, transitioning from the shy boy you liked to someone who was effortlessly charming, with a confidence that made everyone notice him.

Back then, you'd have called him "cute," but now, there were new words—hot, gorgeous—terms that made Tara roll her eyes every time they left your mouth.

But you still felt that rush of excitement when he was around, that same giddiness you'd had since you were ten, only now it felt a little more real.

Tara, on the other hand, hadn't changed much when it came to relationships.

While others around you both dated, broke up, and fell in love, she stayed quietly distant, brushing off questions and teasing about why she never seemed interested in anyone.

The truth was, she didn't really know why herself. There was a part of her that felt left out when you gushed about Brian, when your other friends talked about crushes or brought dates to dances. She tried to tell herself that she just wasn't interested yet, that maybe someday she'd feel what everyone else seemed to.

But as the years went by, Tara started to realize that maybe she was different—and she couldn't shake the strange sense of frustration that came with that realization, especially whenever Brian was mentioned.

Somewhere along the way, as high school turned into something more serious, so did her thoughts about you.

Tara didn't want to admit it at first—not to herself, not to anyone. The idea crept up quietly, unexpected and unwanted, like some shadow she couldn't shake.

The way you'd laugh at something silly, the familiar warmth of your hand in hers, or the way her heart would skip when you'd throw an arm around her shoulders. It all made sense now, but it was a sense she desperately didn't want.

When the realization hit her, it was like she couldn't breathe.

There was this tiny voice in her mind that whispered, almost cruelly, You're in love with her. Tara's immediate reaction was to shut it down, to deny it with everything she had. This couldn't be right. She wasn't in love with you.

That wasn't what best friends did. She told herself she was just confused, that maybe it was normal to feel this strongly about someone you'd known your entire life.

But every time she saw you look at Brian—every time you said his name with that sparkle in your eyes—it felt like a punch to the gut, and there was no denying it anymore.

The more she tried to reason with herself, the clearer it became. And that terrified her.

She couldn't let herself feel this way about you. You were her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone else.

The idea of telling you—of you finding out and looking at her with pity, or worse, disgust—made her stomach twist. She could already imagine the awkward smile, the way you might back away, laugh it off, or even leave her behind. It would shatter her, and she knew that.

And so, she decided then and there that this secret would stay with her.

She'd lock it away, bury it so deep that even she could forget about it someday. Telling anyone—even her parents—wasn't an option.

Not only did she fear their reaction, but she knew they wouldn't understand. To them, you were her friend, nothing more, and the thought of losing you, or of anyone making her feel like her love was wrong, was enough to keep her quiet.

But keeping quiet wasn't easy. The secret felt like it was burning a hole through her, consuming her thoughts and leaving her frustrated in ways she couldn't explain.

She wanted to be around you, but every moment with you felt like a reminder of what she could never have, and it only made the ache grow stronger.

She was angry, scared, and hopelessly in love with the one person she could never tell.

So she became skilled at hiding the depth of her feelings, putting on a mask that had somehow become part of her daily life.

She played her role well, acting like nothing had changed between you both.

At school, she kept her gaze casual, listening to you talk as if she didn't want to lose herself in the way your lips moved.

During sleepovers, she'd lie next to you, forcing herself to focus on anything but the warmth of your arm just inches from hers.

And at parties, now that you were both old enough to go, she'd laugh and dance alongside you, all while pretending her stomach wasn't in knots from the way you looked at her under dim lights, a playful grin lighting up your face.

It was like living with a constant tug-of-war inside her, balancing between wanting to be near you and needing to keep her heart steady.

She'd perfected the art of nonchalance, even when you made it nearly impossible. When you got excited about something—eyes wide, laughing about some small victory—Tara would have to swallow down the urge to reach out, to brush a strand of hair from your face or lean in just a little closer.

The hardest moments were the little things, the 'normal' things, like when you'd give her an easy, carefree compliment, your eyes warm and sincere.

She'd feel the blush rise to her cheeks, and she'd quickly look away or laugh it off, hoping you didn't notice the way her voice wavered.

And when you held her hands, like you always did, squeezing them to give her a little boost of courage, she'd act as though it didn't send her heart racing, as though she wasn't fighting the impulse to hold on tighter.

Every smile you threw her way, every moment you lingered too close, she had to act like it didn't make her insides flip.

She trained herself to respond with that same easy smile, to pretend she didn't feel like the air had been knocked out of her whenever you looked at her like she was the only one in the room.

It was a constant game of pretending, a battle against herself that she had to win every single day.

And as much as she tried to hide it, each touch, each laugh, each simple, familiar look left her more tangled in her own emotions.

She tried to tell herself that these things were just... normal. Friends did these things all the time, she told herself, even if everything in her felt far from normal.

But no matter how many times she told herself that, her resolve was starting to crack. She couldn't help but notice her jealousy flare up when she saw you talking to other people, especially Brian.

Then, one Tuesday at lunch, you dropped a bombshell that flipped her world just a bit more.

She leaned back, half-focused on your conversation with the others at the table, when she saw you walking toward her with a grin so bright it felt like it could light up the whole room.

Tara felt her heart jump at the sight, her thoughts immediately swept into the excitement that was clearly radiating off of you.

You barely took your seat before bursting with excitement. "Tara!"

Tara's smile matched yours, though a part of her already felt a small pang of unease. But she pushed it aside and leaned in eagerly, mirroring your excitement. "What happened?"

You practically glowed as you told her, "He sat next to me in class today." Tara's chest tightened, but she held her expression steady, keeping that casual, easy smile.

She already knew who you meant—you didn't even have to say his name. It was in the way your voice softened, how your eyes sparkled with excitement she rarely saw except when you were really, really happy.

She couldn't stand the sight of it. Seeing you so... in love, so giddy, felt like a punch she wasn't ready for.

You practically glowed, your whole personality seeming to shift as if you were that younger version of yourself again, like back in middle school when every new crush filled you with wide-eyed excitement.

Except now, it wasn't an innocent schoolgirl crush; it was real, and you were already slipping further from her reach with each passing second.

Tara kept smiling, but inside, every bit of her was tangled up in knots.

You'd never look at her like that. Never talk about her with that bubbly, uncontainable happiness. The thought clawed at her, a reminder she could never push away.

She was your best friend, sure, but she'd never be the person who made your cheeks flush or your heart race. And somehow, knowing that made it even harder to keep that same easy smile on her face.

"And?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her, even as she felt a knot forming. She listened as you recounted every word, every laugh you'd shared with him in that class.

Then you dropped the real news, your eyes sparkling. Your grin only widened. "And then, right before class ended, he asked me to go with him to that party next weekend."

Tara's heart sank, yet she barely let the smile slip. She forced herself to open her mouth in surprise, eyes wide, like she was just as thrilled as you were. "Really?" she said, trying to sound as shocked and happy as you seemed, her voice just a bit too bright. "Did you... did you say yes?"

Of course you did. Tara felt stupid for even considering asking you that question.

But you didn't seem to mind, you just nodded eagerly, your whole face lighting up. "Obviously!"

"Oh, wow. That's... that's great, actually," she said, her voice a little too steady, but it was the best she could manage.

Inside, though, she was unraveling. You were actually going with him. It shouldn't have been such a shock—after all, this was what you wanted, right?

But knowing that you'd be there, dressed up, all smiles and laughter... with him... felt like a lead weight sinking in her chest.

She could already picture it, the two of you in some dimly lit room with music thumping, Ethan leaning in close to say something to make you laugh, you smiling up at him like he was the only person in the world.

The thought of it made her throat tighten, her mind racing with feelings she didn't even want to name.

"Are you excited?" she asked, her voice coming out just barely above a whisper. She hoped you wouldn't notice how strained it sounded, how much effort it took just to ask.

You nodded, your smile impossibly bright. "Yeah, I mean... I didn't think he even noticed me like that, you know? But now... maybe he does."

The way you said it—hopeful, almost in disbelief—cut deeper than she wanted to admit. Maybe he does. Those three words stayed in her head, echoing louder with each second.

She was supposed to be happy for you, and maybe part of her was, but mostly, she just felt hollow.

Because even though you'd never know it, she'd been looking at you the way you were looking at him, longing for that same chance to mean something more to you. And now she was faced with the awful reality that she might never get that chance.

Swallowing down the bitterness, she forced a tight-lipped smile. "You'll have a great time, I'm sure."

But even as she said it, a part of her was already wondering if she'd do something she'd regret. The thought of watching you fall for someone else—someone who wasn't her—was more than she could stand.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she'd do almost anything to keep you from slipping away.

Your eyes brightened again. "You should come with us!"

Tara's heart twisted at the invitation, feeling both flattered and devastated. Of course you'd want her there, being the good friend you were—unaware of what it did to her to see you light up over someone else.

Forcing herself to stay casual, she shrugged, managing a small playful smirk. "I'm not exactly great at third-wheeling."

Her voice sounded steady enough, but inside, it felt like she was clinging to the last threads of composure.

She couldn't stand the thought of watching you fall for him right in front of her, yet the idea of saying no, of letting you go without her... that hurt, too.

Maybe if she was there, she could stop whatever was beginning to grow between you and him. Just maybe, she thought, she'd find a way to keep you by her side, where you'd always belonged.

Her mind spun, the smile on her face frozen, all she could focus on was the sinking realization that she might actually lose you.

Until now, she'd convinced herself that her feelings for you were something she could handle, something she'd eventually learn to live with. But now, with Brian's name hanging between you, that quiet acceptance shattered.

She could see the way this might unfold, each painful step already clear in her mind.

She'd watched enough romance movies to know how these things went, and as much as she wanted to push the thoughts away, they crept in, vivid and unrelenting.

First, you'd go to the party together, and maybe he'd make you laugh so much that you'd find yourself leaning in, your hand brushing his.

She could already picture the two of you on future dates—sharing secrets over a quiet dinner or standing too close on some sidewalk, your face lit up in a way that made her stomach twist with envy.

And worse, she could imagine what might happen after those dates, how one day soon he'd reach for your hand, and you wouldn't hesitate to hold his back.

She didn't want to picture it, but the thought seeped into her mind anyway, filling her with a fierce, unfamiliar ache.

The image of you wrapped up in his arms, whispering into his ear, or—even worse—laughing with that same joy you always shared with her, but this time meant for him, made her chest feel hollow.

The thought kept spiraling, her mind betraying her with scenes she couldn't bear to picture.

You, with Brian, alone, closer than she'd ever be, maybe even leaning in for a kiss.

She imagined his hand brushing your cheek, the two of you getting so lost in each other that you forgot everyone else around you—including her.

The jealousy was sharp, hotter than anything she'd felt before.

She hated the way it took over, the way it made her feel small and powerless, like she was losing something that had never even been hers to begin with.

And then, a terrible, aching thought hit her: she might never get to be close to you in that way.

She might never get to be the person who held you, who kissed you, who made you laugh like that.

It wasn't just about watching you fall for someone else—it was the crushing realization that you might never look at her the way you looked at him.

Maybe it would be better if she came along?

The idea took a root in Tara's mind, an unexpected, half-formed plan that both excited and unsettled her.

If she went to the party with you and Brian, it might give her a chance to keep things from moving forward between you two.

She could play it off as tagging along to "keep an eye" on you, to make sure you had fun—and stay close enough to step in if Brian tried anything. It was risky, maybe even a little desperate, but what choice did she have?

At least if she was there, she'd know exactly what was happening. She wouldn't have to lie awake later, imagining him whispering things in your ear, pulling you close, stealing the attention she wanted only for herself.

She could keep you safe from all that, and maybe, if she was careful enough, find subtle ways to draw your attention back to her, where it belonged.

In her mind, it sounded almost justified. A "protective friend" sticking close to make sure you were all right. But the truth simmered beneath that excuse—she knew this was more than friendship, that she wanted to keep you to herself in ways you might never understand.

If Brian was going to try to win you over, he'd have to do it with her there, watching his every move, ready to swoop in the second things started looking too cozy.

And maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to make sure that night ended with you still hers—still looking at her with that easy, trusting smile that had always been her anchor.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it, the chance to stay close to you a little longer, to stave off the reality she dreaded.

If you didn't have the chance to fall for him—if she could prevent that—maybe she'd finally have the time and courage to make you see her the way she saw you.

You nudged her lightly, snapping Tara out of her thoughts, leaning in with that familiar, hopeful smile that always made it so hard to say no to you. "Come on, Tara. It'll be fun—just this once. Please?"

Tara's chest tightened at the way you looked at her, like her answer actually mattered to you. It made something inside her ache, the way your face lit up with excitement, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in her mind.

She should've said no. She wanted to say no.

But the thought of watching you leave without her—without knowing what might happen between you and Brian—made her stomach twist painfully.

And now, thanks to the idea she'd let herself entertain earlier, the thought of staying home didn't feel like an option anymore.

That plan, desperate and reckless as it was, had already taken root, and no matter how much a small part of her whispered it wasn't right, she couldn't let it go.

What if she stayed behind and missed her chance to stop something from blossoming between the two of you? What if she sat in her room, alone, while you fell for him right in front of everyone? The mere idea made her skin crawl.

But going wasn't any better. If she went, she'd have to watch you fawn over him, maybe even see you with him. And that thought was enough to make her want to bolt from the room. Yet here you were, looking at her like her presence actually mattered.

But why? Did you think she needed convincing, or was there some part of you that truly wanted her by your side? Her stomach churned at the thought.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep her expression neutral. If she said no, you'd go without her, and that stung more than she wanted to admit. But if she said yes...

Her mind spun with the possibilities. She didn't even know what she'd do if she went—how far she was willing to take this twisted plan of hers. But what she did know, with a growing certainty, was that she couldn't stay behind. Not when the thought of Brian pulling you closer was enough to make her chest burn with jealousy.

Your face shifted slightly, your brows knitting together when she didn't answer right away.

"Tara," you pressed gently, your voice dipping into that teasing tone you always used when you were trying to coax her into something. "Come on," you pressed again, your grin widening when she hesitated. "You have to come. It won't be the same without you."

It won't be the same without you.

Those words sealed it, though not in the way you meant them to. Something twisted and desperate bloomed in her chest, making her pulse quicken.

You didn't even realize it, but you were giving her exactly what she wanted: a reason to stay close. A reason to be where she could see you—and control what happened between you and Brian.

"Fine," she said at last, forcing a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But don't complain when I tell you it sucks."

The way your entire face lit up at her answer sent an ache through her chest. Her stomach fluttered against her will, a mix of longing and guilt tangling together in a way that made it hard to breathe. She hated how much it affected her, how happy you seemed just because she'd agreed to go.

She looked away quickly, pretending to focus on something across the room, anything to avoid the way your joy sent another wave of guilt and longing through her.

She knew it wasn't right—none of this was. But she couldn't let it go. Not when her plan had already started to take shape. Not when the thought of Brian having you was enough to make her reckless.

Because no matter how hard she tried to tell herself this was just a party, just a stupid night out, deep down, she knew she wasn't going for the music or the fun.

She was going because if Brian thought he was going to win you over tonight, he was dead wrong.

___

"What about this one?"

Tara looked up from where she was sitting on the edge of your bed, her gaze drawn to the shimmering fabric you held up against yourself. It was a short, fitted dress, one you'd clearly been saving for a moment like this.

The way Tara sat there, watching you flit around the room, sifting through piles of clothes you'd pulled from your closet.

It reminded her of when you were younger, back when the two of you would raid your moms' closets, parading around in oversized heels and dresses that pooled around your feet. You'd giggle uncontrollably, striking exaggerated poses in front of the mirror.

But this wasn't dress-up anymore.

Now, the clothes were your own—real, grown-up outfits that fit you perfectly, accentuating curves and edges Tara wasn't sure she was supposed to notice. It wasn't just playtime; this was your life now. And tonight, you weren't dressing up for laughs or pretend tea parties.

You were dressing up for him.

Her eyes flickered briefly over the dress before settling on your face. You were beaming, the excitement practically radiating off you as you turned to the mirror, holding the dress against your body.

She should've said something. A simple "looks great" or even a teasing "a bit much, don't you think?" would've worked, but the words caught in her throat.

It wasn't the dress—it was the way your whole body hummed with energy, the way your smile was just a little too wide, your movements a little too quick. Tara saw it all, and it was like watching you wear your feelings on your sleeve.

The way you twirled the dress in front of the mirror, the way your hands moved restlessly as you smoothed down imaginary creases—it was all too familiar. She knew exactly what you were feeling, even if you didn't say it out loud.

Did Brian? She doubted it.

He didn't know the little things, like how your voice got higher when you were nervous or how you couldn't stand still when you were excited. He didn't know the way your lips pressed together when you were thinking too hard about something or the way your shoulders tensed when you wanted something to go perfectly.

He didn't know you, not like she did.

"What do you think?" you asked again, snapping her out of her thoughts. You turned, holding the dress out at arm's length, giving her a better look. "Too much? Not enough?"

Tara forced a smile, her heart twisting as she watched you. "I think it's... nice," she said carefully, her voice steady even as her stomach churned.

Nice. The word felt like a betrayal. It didn't come close to how she really felt—how beautiful you looked, how much she wished those bright eyes were sparkling for her instead of someone else.

"You think Brian'll like it?" you asked, your tone innocent, but the question struck Tara like a punch.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the fabric of your comforter. She wanted to tell you Brian didn't deserve you, that he wouldn't know how to appreciate all the little things that made you you. But instead, she kept her tone casual, masking the storm inside her.

"I mean... yeah," she said after a pause. "It's hard not to like you in anything."

Your grin widened, lighting up the room in a way that made her stomach flutter. You didn't notice the tightness in her smile, the way her eyes lingered on you for just a second too long.

"You're the best." you said, turning back to the mirror.

Tara's chest tightened, a quiet ache settling beneath her ribs. She glanced away, forcing a small smile as she leaned back on her hands.

She let her fingers dug slightly into the comforter as she watched you move across the room again, this time heading toward your closet. You sifted through the hangers with an almost frantic energy, pulling out one piece of clothing after another until something caught your eye.

"This," you announced, holding up a sleek black skirt and a tiny top with delicate lace accents.

Tara blinked, her focus shifting from the faint hum of her own thoughts to the outfit in your hands. The skirt was just short enough to grab attention, and the top would clung to the curves in all the right places—your curves, she couldn't help but think.

Her stomach twisted again, but not with the same bitterness from earlier. No, this was something else entirely. She couldn't stop herself from picturing you in it, couldn't stop the way her mind immediately conjured the image of you standing there, all done up, looking effortlessly hot and completely out of her reach.

She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away. "You're not wearing the dress?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"Oh, I am," you replied with a grin, holding the outfit closer to her. "This is for you!"

Tara froze. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, her chest tightening as your words sank in.

She had been so caught up in watching you, so wrapped up in her own spiral of emotions, that she had momentarily forgotten she was actually going to this party.

"Me?" she echoed, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to act like the idea of dressing up didn't make her stomach drop.

You laughed softly, stepping closer to hold the outfit up against her frame. "Yeah, you! Come on, Tara, you can't just wear that." You half-pointed to her attire.

Tara's eyes darted to the mirror, catching a glimpse of herself in her usual hoodie and jeans.

She had planned on blending into the background tonight, just another shadow in the corner, but now you were holding out a version of herself she wasn't sure she wanted to confront.

"It's... a little much, don't you think?" she murmured, her fingers brushing over the fabric.

"Not at all," you said, undeterred. "Trust me, you'll look amazing.

The way you looked at her, so excited, so hopeful, made it impossible for her to argue. The truth was, she didn't want to blend into the background—not really. Not if it meant letting Brian win.

"Alright," she said finally, forcing a small smirk as she reached for the outfit.

You grinned, clearly thrilled, and the sight sent her heart fluttering all over again.

As she stood up to take the clothes in you, the weight of the night ahead settled on her shoulders again. She knew this wasn't about the clothes or the party. It was about you—about keeping you close, about holding onto the part of you that still felt like hers, even if it wasn't.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she was willing to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Tara pulled the clothes from your hands, her fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary before she turned away.

She hesitated only briefly, her eyes darting to the bathroom door, but then she decided against it. It wasn't like this was anything new. You'd seen her change plenty of times before.

Slipping off her hoodie, she pulled the top over her head, the soft lace brushing against her skin in a way that felt oddly delicate, almost foreign.

The skirt followed, the fabric snug around her waist and flaring slightly at her hips. When she finally turned back toward you, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

It was strange. She didn't recognize the girl staring back at her right away—not entirely. The clothes fit her so well, so effortlessly, that she felt a flicker of something unexpected: pride.

She looked... pretty. Not in the same way you did, with your radiant energy that drew everyone in, but still. Pretty enough.

Her heart jumped a little at the thought of you seeing her like this, of you noticing her in the way she always noticed you. She didn't know why she wanted that so badly, but the hope curled tightly in her chest, warm and persistent.

You looked up from where you'd been smoothing out your own dress, and your reaction was immediate. Your eyes widened slightly, and then your face lit up in that effortless way that always made her stomach flutter.

"Tara, oh my god, you look so good," you said, your voice soft but genuine, carrying none of the over-the-top excitement you sometimes used when joking around. This was real.

Tara felt her cheeks warm under your gaze, her fingers automatically reaching to adjust the hem of the skirt, as if she could somehow shield herself from the weight of your words. She tried to play it off, shrugging casually. "It's just a skirt," she mumbled, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

"It's not just a skirt," you countered, stepping closer. "You look amazing. Seriously, this is perfect for you."

Your words were kind, almost too kind, and Tara wasn't sure how to process them. There was no teasing, no playful edge, just an earnestness that made her chest feel tight and achy.

She glanced away, pretending to focus on her reflection again, but the warmth of your approval lingered, sinking into her skin like the lace of the top.

She wanted to feel good about it, to let herself bask in the way you saw her, but the nagging thought that this wasn't for her—that it was all part of your excitement for Brian—kept her grounded.

Still, the way you smiled at her, so unreserved and so entirely you, made her feel something she hadn't in a long time: seen. She wished, just for a second, that you were saying all of this for the same reason she wished you would.

You spun on your heel, nearly tripping over the pile of discarded clothes strewn across the floor in your excitement. Tara's breath caught for a second, her hand twitching instinctively like she was about to reach for you, but you caught yourself, laughing it off as if nothing had happened.

"You need to clean your room before someone gets hurt," Tara muttered, though her tone held more amusement than annoyance.

You ignored her, too caught up in the moment as you reached your makeup table, rifling through your collection with a kind of chaotic precision.

Pulling out a palette, you held it up, the colors catching the light as you grinned at her. "What do you think? Want me to do your makeup?"

Your voice was so full of unfiltered excitement, your smile so wide it made her stomach flip. Tara hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her skirt as she glanced at the palette in your hands. She wasn't really the makeup type—not like you were—but the way you looked at her, like you were just waiting to make her feel special, made it impossible to say no.

"You don't have to," Tara said finally, though her voice lacked conviction.

"I want to!" you insisted, stepping closer, the palette still in hand. "Please, Tara? I promise I'll keep it simple. Just a little something to go with the outfit."

She sighed, feigning reluctance as she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Fine."

You grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her, gesturing for her to sit. "Alright, let's make you even more stunning."

Tara rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she leaned forward.

___

The buzz of the party hit you as soon as you stepped through the door.

Music pulsed through the house, the bass vibrating in your chest as voices overlapped in a cacophony of laughter and shouted greetings.

People crowded the space—groups gathered near the kitchen, couples pressed close against walls, and a few brave souls danced in the living room, already letting loose despite how early it was in the night.

You glanced over at Tara, catching the way her shoulders stiffened slightly as the noise and energy enveloped her. She'd been quiet on the drive over, her fingers drumming against her thigh in a way that let you know her nerves were kicking in. But she'd never admit that, not to you.

"See?" you said brightly, bumping her shoulder with yours as you stepped further into the house. "I told you this would be fun."

Tara gave you a look, one that was half-skepticism and half-amusement, as she tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

Your laugh was warm and easy, a sound that somehow made the chaos of the party seem less overwhelming. You reached back to grab her hand, pulling her through the crowd as you made your way toward the kitchen. The feel of your fingers around hers made something in Tara's chest twist uncomfortably, though she forced herself to ignore it.

The kitchen was just as packed as the rest of the house, but you managed to snag two drinks from the counter, handing one to her with a grin. "Alright, party rule number one: stay hydrated."

Tara raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cup in her hand. "This is definitely not water."

"Details." You waved her off, your playful smirk making her stomach flutter in that maddeningly familiar way.

Before she could respond, a voice called out from across the room. "Y/N! There you are!"

Tara's grip on her cup tightened as she followed your gaze, her stomach sinking when she saw him—Brian—making his way toward you. His smile was wide and easy, the kind of grin that would make anyone else swoon.

But Tara wasn't anyone else.

"Brian!" you said, your face lighting up in a way that made Tara's chest ache. She stepped back slightly, letting go of your hand as he drew closer, though her eyes never left you.

He didn't deserve that smile.

Brian's gaze flickered to her briefly, his smile faltering just a bit. "Tara, right?"

She nodded, her expression neutral as she took a sip of her drink. "That's me."

If he noticed the edge in her tone, he didn't comment on it, turning his attention back to you instead. "You look amazing," he said, his eyes raking over your dress in a way that made Tara's jaw tighten.

You beamed at him, clearly pleased by the compliment, and Tara had to look away, her hand gripping her cup so tightly she was surprised it didn't crack.

This was going to be a long night.

And it most definitely was.

As the night went on, the party only grew louder and more chaotic. People drifted in and out of the circle you, Tara, and Brian had settled into, friends of his joining the conversation with easy smiles and casual jokes.

You made a genuine effort to include Tara, always pulling her back in when she started to fade into the background, but it was clear who held your focus.

Brian.

He stood close to you, his arm brushing yours as he leaned in to talk over the music.

You didn't seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you didn't mind. Either way, the proximity between you two only seemed to grow as the minutes ticked by, and Tara couldn't stop watching.

Every time you laughed at something he said, her chest tightened just a little more.

You weren't doing it on purpose. Tara knew that. She knew you didn't notice the way her jaw clenched or how her fingers drummed against her cup.

You were just being you—kind, bubbly, and effortlessly charming. But watching you with Brian, seeing how much of your attention he was soaking up, felt like a slow, relentless sting.

She hadn't expected it to bother her this much.

At first, Tara tried to play along, chiming in when she could and taking small sips of her drink to distract herself.

But then Brian's friends started joining the conversation, their loud energy making it harder for her to keep up. You were still trying to include her, turning to her every so often to ask her opinion or flash her one of your brilliant smiles, but it wasn't enough.

Not when you lit up like a damn firework every time Brian said something that made you laugh.

Tara tipped back her cup, finishing it quicker than she probably should have. She wasn't much of a drinker to begin with—she never really liked how it made her feel—but tonight was different. Tonight, she needed the edge taken off.

"Want another?" you asked, noticing her empty cup.

She hesitated, but before she could respond, Brian offered. "I'll grab her one. Be right back."

She opened her mouth to say she didn't need another, but he was already walking away.

You smiled after him before turning back to Tara, your expression so full of effortless warmth it made her stomach churn. "You having fun?"

She forced a small nod, her grip tightening on the plastic cup. "Yeah. It's... fine."

You didn't notice the strain in her voice, too caught up in the energy of the party to catch on.

By the time Brian returned with her drink, she'd already decided she wasn't going to overthink it. She took it with a quiet "thanks" and drank just enough to feel the buzz set in. It wasn't much—maybe two drinks total—but Tara was short, and she always felt the effects quicker than most.

The alcohol didn't drown out her frustration, though.

Every laugh you gave Brian, every time you leaned in to whisper something to him, only seemed to magnify it.

And you? You were oblivious. Still trying to keep her in the conversation, pulling her in with the same ease you always had. But she could feel the gap widening.

Tara's foot tapped against the floor as she shifted her weight, her eyes flickering between you and Brian. She should've left, should've wandered off to another part of the house to escape this torturous little triangle, but she stayed.

Because if she left, she'd have to admit to herself why she couldn't handle this.

So instead, she took another sip of her drink and plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice cutting through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she said quickly, her words sharper than she intended. "I'm fine."

But she wasn't. And as the night wore on, that became harder and harder to hide.

And after an hour, or maybe even more.

The alcohol was definitely working its way through Tara's veins. She could feel it, the familiar warmth spreading through her chest, making her limbs feel looser but her thoughts louder.

The edges of the room blurred ever so slightly, but her focus on you was sharp as ever, almost painfully so.

You were giggling at something Brian said again, your hand brushing his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tara had been watching you both like a hawk all night, trying to play it cool, but the subtle touches, the shared smiles, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him—it was getting under her skin.

She clenched her jaw, tipping back the rest of her drink as if it might drown out the frustration bubbling inside her. But it didn't.

It wasn't just the alcohol making her feel reckless, though it didn't help. Tara was desperate.

Desperate to do something—anything—that might shift the balance back in her favor. But how? She wasn't like Brian. She didn't have easy jokes or effortless charm. And she wasn't like you, all soft laughter and open smiles.

So she sat there, stewing in her own silence, searching for an opening she couldn't find.

Then she turned her head for just a moment.

A distraction—a loud burst of laughter from somewhere across the room. She glanced over, barely processing the source, and when she looked back...

Her heart stopped.

You and Brian were kissing.

It wasn't shy or hesitant. It was full and unguarded, like something out of the movies. His hands rested lightly on your waist, your fingers clutching the front of his shirt as though you were afraid to let go.

Tara's first thought wasn't sadness. It wasn't heartbreak or even surprise.

It was rage.

Her body went rigid, the plastic cup in her hand creaking under the force of her grip.

Because of course this wasn't a problem.

Why would it be?

You weren't hers. You'd never been hers. You were allowed to kiss boys, especially the boy you'd been crushing on for as long as she could remember. It wasn't like you were breaking some unspoken rule. She had no claim to you, no right to feel betrayed or blindsided.

But God, it felt like a betrayal.

Her rational mind tried to reason with her, repeating the same useless mantra: This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem.

But the other side of her mind—the side that had been clawing its way to the surface all night—was screaming the opposite.

It was a problem. A huge one.

The anger burned through her like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought as it spread. It started in her chest, hot and heavy, before curling into her throat and setting her teeth on edge. Her nails dug into the soft plastic of her cup until it crumpled under her grip, a sharp crack breaking through the buzz of the party.

And still, she couldn't look away.

She hated it. Hated the way his hands touched you so easily, like he'd earned that right. Hated the way you kissed him back like you'd been waiting for this your whole life. Hated how he got to have what she wanted so desperately without even knowing how much it mattered.

Her breaths came quicker, each one catching in her chest as if she couldn't quite fill her lungs. The alcohol amplified everything, stripping her bare of the filters she usually relied on. Every raw, unspoken feeling she'd buried for years was rising to the surface now, and there was no stopping it.

She wanted to scream.

To grab you and pull you away, to tell Brian to get his hands off you, to do something.

But she didn't.

Because no matter how angry she was, no matter how much she hated what she was seeing, there was a part of her—a small, quiet, agonizing part—that whispered:

You're not supposed to feel like this.

So instead, Tara sat there, her body tense and trembling, her nails biting into the palms of her hands. She didn't even realize she'd crumpled her cup until the sticky remnants of her drink dripped onto her lap.

And still, she couldn't look away.

Eventually you pulled back from Brian, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy from the alcohol coursing through your system.

A small, almost dazed laugh escaped your lips as you glanced at him, then turned to find Tara in the crowd. She hadn't moved from where she'd been watching, her posture stiff and her eyes fixed on some indistinct point on the wall—anywhere but you.

When your gaze landed on her, your smile widened, bright and unrestrained, like you hadn't just set her entire world on fire.

Tara's chest tightened, the molten frustration inside her bubbling hotter with every passing second. She couldn't stop her thoughts, couldn't silence the storm brewing in her mind.

You stumbled a little as you reached her, still grinning like a fool, your energy infectious to everyone but Tara. You leaned close, tipping forward on your toes, your voice loud but slurred enough to betray your tipsy state.

"I think he kissed me," you said, as if it hadn't been entirely mutual.

Tara felt something snap.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms so hard she half-expected to draw blood.

She couldn't speak, couldn't trust herself to even try. If she opened her mouth, she was sure she'd yell or say something she couldn't take back. Worse, she might cry—and that wasn't an option.

Her silence stretched on, but you didn't seem to notice. You were too lost in your own world, your thoughts spinning with the buzz of the alcohol and the remnants of Brian's touch. Tara's silence didn't matter, because you filled the space with another easy laugh, leaning closer so she could hear you over the pounding music.

"I need to use the bathroom," you said, your lips brushing near her ear. The warmth of your breath made her stomach twist. "Wanna come?"

Tara's mind scrambled for an excuse, her mouth dry as she fought the urge to say something reckless.

"No," she said finally, forcing her voice to sound casual, detached. "I think I'm good down here."

It wasn't true. She wasn't good down here, or anywhere else in the universe at that moment.

You gave her a light shrug, your expression still full of that easy joy that made her want to scream. "Okay! Be right back!"

You disappeared into the crowd, weaving your way toward the bathroom, leaving Tara standing there alone.

The second you were out of sight, she exhaled sharply, her hands shaking as she reached for another drink she didn't need.

She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the anger, or the ache of jealousy threatening to overwhelm her. Maybe it was all three, swirling into something she couldn't control.

But one thing was clear—she couldn't keep this up. Not tonight. Not with you and Brian. Not with her chest full of feelings she couldn't name and didn't want to face.

Tara's eyes burned as they landed on Brian, standing not far from where you'd left him. His posture was easy, relaxed—too relaxed.

He stood there like nothing had happened, chatting casually with a couple of his friends, his hand lifting a red cup to his lips like this was just another night. Like he hadn't just kissed you.

The most beautiful girl on the planet.

Tara felt her stomach twist painfully, her grip tightening around the drink in her hand. How could he be so unbothered? So unaffected? He wasn't grinning ear to ear, wasn't puffing out his chest or gushing about how lucky he was.

He wasn't laughing with joy or smirking proudly like any sane person would if they'd just kissed you.

How was he not telling everyone in earshot about what had happened? How was he not reeling from the fact that you—you, with your blinding smile and endless energy—had given him even a second of your time, let alone your lips?

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as she stared at him, her anger bubbling hotter with every second he stayed calm. Her hands itched to grab him by the collar, to shake him and demand he act like he understood the weight of what had just happened.

Did he even realize how lucky he was?

Did he know how many people in that room—how many people in general—would kill to be in his place? To have even the tiniest fraction of your attention, let alone that?

Her vision blurred, and it wasn't from the alcohol. Her chest felt like it was about to implode, like something inside her was trying desperately to escape, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it together.

Brian's laughter snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. He was laughing at something one of his friends said, his expression light, carefree—unbothered.

Tara nearly saw red.

She downed the rest of her drink in one go, the sharp burn doing nothing to dull the fury roaring in her chest. How could he be like this? How could he act so normal, so indifferent, after kissing you?

How could he not be overwhelmed by the fact that you'd chosen him, even for a fleeting moment?

It was insulting. Infuriating.

She wanted to march over there, to grab him and make him feel the way she was feeling. She wanted him to hurt, to ache, to boil with jealousy the way she was.

But she couldn't.

Because none of this was his fault.

The real issue—the one she didn't want to admit—wasn't Brian. It was the simple, heartbreaking truth that he could kiss you without consequence.

He could have you.

Tara wasn't sure what happened next.

What she was thinking when it happened, or if she was even thinking at all. Maybe it was the anger—burning hot and uncontrollable—making her body move before her brain could catch up. Or maybe it was the alcohol, buzzing in her veins and drowning out every voice in her head that might've told her to stop.

All she knew was that one second she was standing there, glaring at Brian like he'd committed some unforgivable sin, and the next, she was storming toward him.

His friends noticed her first, their chatter faltering as they shifted awkwardly under her sharp glare. But Brian, oblivious as ever, didn't see her coming. He was mid-sentence, that stupidly calm look still plastered on his face, when Tara grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

The movement was forceful enough to knock the air out of both of them, and before he could even process what was happening—before she could process what was happening—she pressed her lips against his.

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't sweet.

It was messy, rough, and fueled by a cocktail of rage and desperation. Her hands fisted his shirt tightly, holding him in place, her nails biting into the fabric. Brian stiffened for a second, shocked, but then his hands hovered awkwardly near her waist, unsure of what to do.

Tara didn't care. She didn't care about his reaction, about his hesitation.

Because this wasn't about him.

It wasn't about his stupid, clueless face or the fact that he'd kissed you without giving it a second thought. It wasn't about him being unbothered or unaffected.

This was about her.

Her anger, her frustration, her absolute inability to sit there for another second and watch him act like kissing you was nothing.

The kiss deepened as her grip on his shirt tightened, pulling him even closer. She wanted to erase the memory of you from his lips, to replace it with her own. To make him feel something, anything, the way she was feeling.

But it wasn't working.

If anything, the kiss only made it worse.

Because no matter how hard she pressed, no matter how desperate her movements were, it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel like you.

And that thought was like a punch to the gut.

Brian made a soft, surprised noise against her lips, his hands finally settling on her hips, but it only made her angrier. How dare he hesitate now? How dare he act so unsure, like he didn't know exactly what he wanted when he'd so easily taken you from her just minutes ago?

Her chest heaved as she pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against his, her heart pounding in her ears.

His wide eyes stared at her, confused and more than a little alarmed. "Tara—" his voice laced with bewilderment, but she silenced him with another kiss, pressing harder, needing to cut him off.

She didn't want to hear his voice. She didn't want to hear him try to make sense of this, because she didn't have an explanation. This wasn't about him.

It wasn't about you either—not entirely, at least.

It was about her. About the way she felt like she was unraveling, about how every smile you gave Brian felt like another thread being yanked loose, every laugh you shared with him felt like a blow to the chest.

She didn't know how to make it stop, and the only thing her mind could come up with was this. She didn't have to think when she was kissing Brian. Didn't have to feel the jagged ache of watching you be so happy with someone else.

This wasn't about him.

But it was all she could do to stop herself from falling apart completely.

And Tara wasn't sure what was happening anymore.

Brian hadn't pushed her away. He hadn't stopped her, hadn't hesitated for even a moment after that first surprised noise.

No, he'd leaned into it. He'd kissed her back with the kind of intent that only made her angrier, made the fire in her chest blaze so hot she thought she might combust right there.

Because it wasn't supposed to go like this.

His hands slid from her hips, pulling her closer, pressing her tighter against him, and she hated it. Hated the way he responded like this was exactly what he wanted, hated the way he kissed her back like she wasn't just a replacement for you.

And worse than anything, she hated herself for not stopping it.

His hands moved lower, gripping her ass, pulling her even closer, and she felt herself clench her fists tighter into the fabric of his shirt.

She didn't know if it was the alcohol buzzing in her veins, numbing her better judgment, or if it was the anger still consuming her every thought, but she didn't do anything to stop him.

She should've.

But she didn't.

Because in this moment, it wasn't about him. It wasn't even about you. It was about the chaos she felt boiling in her chest, about the way she felt like she was spiraling further and further out of control.

Brian murmured something against her lips—she didn't catch it, didn't even try to—but his hands stayed firm on her, guiding her, pulling her toward the stairs.

And she let him.

Every step felt like she was wading through quicksand, her mind shouting at her to stop, to push him away, to pull herself together. But her body wasn't listening. She didn't know if it was the heat of his hands on her or the fog of alcohol clouding her better judgment, but she let him lead her.

Because stopping meant facing the truth. And Tara wasn't ready to do that.

Not yet.

She'd barely registered how they ended up in the room. One second, she was being pulled up the stairs, Brian's hand gripping hers tightly, and the next, they were in a dimly lit bedroom, the door clicking shut behind them.

Her heart was racing, but not from excitement. There was no thrill, no anticipation, just a gnawing sense of wrongness she couldn't shake. Yet she didn't stop it. She didn't stop him as his hands found her waist, as his lips trailed down her neck. She didn't stop herself from responding, from letting this spiral further than it ever should have.

It was mechanical, empty, and every moment felt like it was happening to someone else. Brian's touch wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't what she wanted. His lips weren't the ones she craved, his hands didn't spark anything but an aching hollowness inside her.

And yet, she let it happen.

Because, for a fleeting second, it felt like power. Like control. Like maybe, just maybe, if she could take this from him—take you from him in some twisted, nonsensical way—it would hurt less.

But it didn't.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word she barely heard, only drove the knife deeper into her chest.

When it was over, the silence was deafening. Tara lay there, staring at the ceiling, her body still and her mind racing. Brian shifted beside her, saying something she didn't hear, and the sound of his voice made her stomach twist. She felt nauseous, disgusted—not with him, but with herself.

What had she done?

Her chest tightened as she fought to keep her breathing steady, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill over. It hadn't helped. It hadn't made anything better. If anything, it had only made everything worse.

Because no matter what she did, no matter how far she went, it would never be enough to make her stop wanting you.

Afterwards Tara laid still, the dim light of the room casting shadows that felt too heavy, too oppressive.

Brian was beside her, breathing evening out as if nothing monumental had just happened. As if this was just another casual moment in his life.

Her mind, however, wouldn't stop.

It wasn't Brian she was thinking about—not the way he'd touched her, not the way he'd looked at her. No, every thought clawed its way back to you.

She pictured you in the bathroom, probably still staring at yourself in the mirror, giddy and flushed. She could almost see your smile, so wide it was infectious, and the way you'd probably tilt your head, trying to relive every second of that kiss.

You'd been dreaming of that moment since second grade, scribbling his name in the margins of your notebooks and lighting up every time he was near. Tara could already imagine how you'd be practically glowing, heart racing with excitement as you ran your fingers over your lips, trying to make the feeling last.

She wanted to hate you for it. But she couldn't. She never could.

You'd come out of that bathroom with a smile so bright it could light up the whole house, your hopeful eyes scanning the crowd as you made your way back to the spot you'd all been standing. And what would you find?

Nothing.

Tara wasn't there. Brian wasn't there.

She could imagine how your smile would falter, confusion settling in as you looked around, searching for the two people who were supposed to be waiting for you. How long would it take for the excitement to drain from your face? How quickly would hope turn to disappointment?

The thought was like a knife twisting in her gut.

And yet, she still couldn't make sense of why she'd done this. Why she'd let it happen. Because it didn't feel like she'd won anything. She hadn't taken Brian away from you. If anything, she'd stolen something from herself—something she could never get back.

Her chest tightened as the realization hit her like a freight train. She hadn't wanted him. She hadn't wanted this.

She'd wanted you.

And now she'd ruined everything.

[questionablehuman444]

THANK YOU. Someone put my thoughts into the correct words, and it makes me thoroughly happy.

Dick definitely has eldest daughter syndrome, but Tim was "really mature for his age"

(more below cut)

Okay, Dick holds the weight of the world on his shoulders as the oldest. He's the one everybody goes to when they're having problems with Bruce. He's the "trusted adult". He's the guy who has the ability to get people to open up, and let him help them. It weighs on him a lot as a result.

Dick feels that if he isn't constantly there for people, then he's failing, not only as a hero but as a brother and a friend. (I could also talk about how he leans into the himbo persona because his self esteem is a tripping hazard in hell, but that's for another time)

Then, you look at Tim. He's self sufficient, he's easy, and he's smart. Tim has gifted child syndrome. People think that since he's more mature, he can handle more. So they start treating him like an adult and whenever it's convenient, they double back to treat him like a kid.

So often, the adults in his life were emotionally inept, and their love for him was so often conditional. He had to grow up quick because nobody else wanted to.

Something I think about is how, despite Dick and Tim having similar experiences and bearing the weight of the world, they don't want to hurt each other more. Dick doesn't want to fuel Tim's gifted kid syndrome and Tim doesn't wanna fuel Dick's eldest daughter syndrome. They can't talk to each other because they're aware of the other person's situation, and don't want to continue fueling the other person's problems when, in reality, it would probably be the best course of action for the two of them.

They're so afraid of making the other's problems worse by talking, that they're don't realize that they're actually just harming the both of them. They fail to realize that they're stripping away the only other person who could fully understand in a way beyond just comprehending the words and feelings being told, the only other person who knows the family on a personal level and can empathize from a place of mutual feelings. They taking away the one person who *Gets It* fully and completely.

Anyway, sorry for rambling, I really like talking about things like this. Thanks for reading if you made it this far lol. I had a lot of fun writing all this.

Dick is for the eldest sibling while Tim is for the parentified children and I think that's the most important difference between them

[hypnagogics]

You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and scarlet, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

@andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @wilddrown @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @spncrrdlvr @flowrmoth

[coupsiedaisee]

the devil that he is | a companion | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut, just pwp warnings: kissing, mentions of alcohol, uses of daddy and good girl, oral, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 1.8k a/n: because @hannieween demanded it, here it is, a companion piece to pulse. please go and give that a read first if u can, though i don't think its necessary to understand the smut in this lmao (v don't get it in ur head that if u start demanding more ill write more this was an exception!!!!) Im really quite new to smut and not that great so pls let me know what u liked what u didn't like etc etc. uwu ily all, pls enjoy!

You're cuddled into Seungcheol's chest, sitting on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to the steady beat of your boyfriends's heart. He'd pulled the blanket up to cover you fully and was now rubbing soft circles into your waist.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair away from your face, "Are you tired baby?"

"No," you murmur.

Seungcheol's fingers pause, "Do you want to have some more fun?"

You look up at him, "Here?" Again?

"No not here, love," he chuckles.

"Then where?" Not that it mattered. Though you couldn't voice it in the open living room, you were feeling extremely unsatisfied from before.

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes ," you whisper. Anticipation of what he has planned makes your race.

Suddenly, you feel a cool sticky liquid seep onto your legs through the thin blanket. The liquid slides down your ass.

You throw the the blanket off you, "What—"

"Oh shit, sorry!" says Seungcheol. You see him holding an empty Corona bottle upside down , looking less like he was sorry, and more like a cat who caught the canary. He sets the bottle aside an hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you off his lap bridal style.

"Shua, I spilled beer on us and the couch, I'm gonna go grab some of your clothes to change into!" Seungcheol yells behind him as he carries you up the stairs, setting you down when he gets to a door. He opens the door and pushes you through it, locking it behind him once he's through.

There's a queen bed in the middle of the room with a thick grey comforter, and matching grey pillows. A guitar leans against the wall in the corner, a small shelf with a record player and vinyls next to it. Recognition lights your eyes and you whip around smacking Seungcheol in the chest. "Seungcheol!" Smack! "This is Josh's room!"

"Yeah, it is," Seungcheol's got a cheeky glint in his eye.

Your jaw drops and you smack him again, "We are not doing anything in here! I thought you were taking me to the bathroom." A fresh new blush blooms on your cheeks as heat rushes to your face.

"You want me to take you back downstairs to the bathroom?" Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, smirk growing and eyes darkening. He grabs you by the back of you neck, pulling you towards him, and using his other hand to slide up under you skirt to fondle an ass cheek. Your hands stay on his chest as his hot breath fans over your face, "Do you want everyone to hear the beautiful sounds you're about to make when I fuck you?"

You close your eyes and shudder, imagining people's eyes as they follow you and Seungcheol going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Imagining Seungcheol bending you over the counter so you can watch him in the mirror as he rails you from behind. The way your loud moans would reverberate off the bathroom walls and echo down the hallways to the living room, kitchen, and game room.

Seungcheol tightens the grip on your ass, "Oh, you do, don't you baby?" His face is so close your noses touch, but he doesn't close the distance between your lips. "You want everyone to hear how filthy you actually are, my shy shy girl." You clench you fingers around the fabric of his polo, and nod the faintest of nods. "I need to hear you baby. Do you or do you not want everyone to hear how drunk you are for Daddy's cock?"

You whine, nodding and grazing your lips against Seungcheol's. He tightens the hold on you neck, holding you back, "Words, babygirl."

"I-I want, you t-to—" You stumble over the words, still too shy to verbalize what you need from your boyfriend.

"We're not going anywhere until you can say it, babygirl," Seungcheol murmurs, moving his hand to cup your jaw.

You swallow before trying again, keeping your voice steady, "I want you to fuck me."

"And," he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek.

"And?" You falter, looking into his deep brown eyes.

"And, you know what else." He goads you on.

"A-and," You think . Then, you understand and, your thighs rubs against each other on their own accord, seeking friction. "I want everyone to hear," you whisper.

Seungcheol is unrelentless though, the devil that he is. "Hear what, baby?"

You whine and try to lean over to catch his lips with yours.

"Come on," he takes his hand off your ass to smooth your hair out of your face, using the hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. "Say it and I'll give you exactly what you want." Your eyes glaze over at that.

"I want everyone to he-ar," you voice cracks but you keep on, "how filthy I am for Daddy's cock." You wince at how needy your voice sounds.

Seungcheol presses the sweetest, softest, kiss to your lips and smiles at you, "Good girl. Now, that wasn't so hard baby, was it?"

His hands are warm against your cheek and you shyly shake your head no. He pats your cheek, "Go get on the bed, love."

You go to sit on the end of Joshua's bed, perhaps a little too giddy as the bed bounces a little from your weight. Seungcheol follows close behind, unbuttoning his jeans, not once taking his eyes off of you. "Take your shirt off for me, and your skirt," he says, and you don't hestitate for a second to take them off. Seungcheol mirrors you, pulling his polo over his head and stepping out of jeans, leaving him in just his tight black boxer briefs.

His hard cock strains agaisnt the tight fabric and you wonder if he feels just as needy as you are right now. Unable to decipher the look on Seungcheol's face, you decide it resembles something akin to a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle. He licks his lips, looking down on your nearly naked body.

"For me?" his voice is gruff. Oh, your lingerie set. You'd almost forgotten about it. Deep red and lacey. Bra barely covering the swell of your breasts and panties already ruined from earlier.

You nod, chewing on your lip before asking in a small voice, "Do you like it?"

Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair, muttering, "You're gonna be the death of me."

He brings a hand up to up one of your breasts, thumb running over the top. You shiver in anticipation when his thumb grazes your skin.

It doesn't take even a second before Seungcheol's got you on you back against the bed, attacking your throat with kisses. You'll take that as a yes.

You snake a hand up into his hair, fingers tangling into his soft strands, giving it a tug when he mouths at the sensitive spot right under your jaw.

Seungcheol pushes a hand up under your bra and you let out a breathy moan when he swipes over a pert nipple. Your hips buck up into him, craving friction, and he grinds his clothed hard cock over your clothed cunt.

Seungcheol kisses down your neck, and your chest, lower and lower, until he reaches your soaked panties. He rips them off, tossing them into an unknown corner of the room, and uses his hands to spread your legs apart, holding them down firmly at your thighs.

Your breath hitches when you feel Seungcheol lick a fat, wet stripe up your cunt. But he doesn't give you a chance you even think about it, instead attacking your pussy with his mouth, switching between licking at it and sucking your clit. Your head rolls back in pleasure, and any move to grind against his face is halted by his firm hold on your thighs.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, as he sucks roughly at your clit. You pull on his hair, biting back a moan as pleasure builds within you. You need more.

Seungcheol lifts his head, your arousal dripping down his chin. He looks smug at how much you've come undone on just his tongue alone.

He leans up to kiss you, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan into his mouth and he ruts agaisnt you. You grind up against him, or at least try to, with his hands still firmly holding you down. "Seungcheol," you whine, "I need you."

Seungcheol groans again, nipping at your bottom lip. He sits up on his knees, still situated between your legs, and pulls out his cock. It's hard and leaking so much pre-cum out its red tip. You nearly drool at the sight.

He rubs his cock against your entrance, letting your arousal smear all over it, and with no preamble, starts to push in.

You gasp at the feeling of his girthy cock slowly stretching you out, "Seungcheol." With one final push, he bottoms out, and god have you never felt so full.

Seungcheol leans down to kiss you and then he starts to move. Slow and languid at first but faster as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

He grunts with every snap of his hips and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide your moans.

"Baby," Seungcheol's breathing hard, but so are you, "Baby, don't cover your mouth, let them hear you." At that, your pussy clenches around Seungcheol's cock, and Seungcheol stalls for a moment, letting out a choked, "Oh my god."

You slip out your own sweet little cry as Seungcheol picks his pace back up, your orgasm starting to build. Seungcheol moves his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing circles on it. "Come for me baby, cum all over Daddy's cock, yeah?"

You let out one final echoing moan as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, Seungcheol following after you with a quick fuck fuck fuck. You whimper from pleasure as you feel Seungcheol fill you up with his cum, the excess leaking out and down your leg onto the bed.

There's a knock on the door, and you both freeze. A moment. And then another knock, this one sounding more hesitant.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol yells, voice raspy.

Another moment, then a pained voice softly floats through the door, Dino, "Um, the guys told me to tell you that we can hear you? And, uh, Shua says to burn the sheets before you come back down?" There's a incomprehensible yell. "Um, actually he says don't come down just—I'm not telling them that!" There's more yelling and Dino sighs, "He would like you two to unkindly jump out the window please."

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[luludeluluramblings]

dream team back. we’re currently yapping central again (per usual)

both of us are straight up in a tim drake brainrot spiral too!!! he’s a delightful little weirdo. a strange little gentleman if you will.

tim is such a funny little guy!!! he also makes a solid yandere. you can’t outsmart him. you can’t escape someone who can find everything about you. On the upside, I feel like he’d be happy to spoil his darling. also he’d be like, really considerate in weird ways??? I mean like you don’t get privacy (or you get the illusion of it maybe but not actual privacy.)

like yeah you’re always being watched in some way, but the man has committed every single one of your favorites and least favorites to memories. He knows what clothing you like, what specific features you look for in everything, and if he doesn’t, by god, will he learn. He knows your favorite song, and he knows the nickname you went by in elementary school.

Do you think he pretends to be normal and basically sets things up to send reader to be like a little love story?? You meet by chance, and he fell first. He fell a LONG time ago, so now it’s his mission to make you fall too. And Tim Drake ALWAYS finishes a mission. (Even as a baby daddy candidate). He makes himself the best option, even if he’s not the father.

Yandere!TimDrake x PastFriend!Reader x Aiden Cobblepot

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooo, I'm finally and slowly going through my ask box and you two may have sparked an idea just for Tim. I might have to do a Part Two for this. (I'm falling into the WIP trap. Help!) But, I love the thought of the Bat Family have competition when it comes to their darling. Gives them a challenge. Plus, I really wanted to use Aiden Cobblepot for this. I've been wanting to sneak him into something.

A/N: We have neglected!Sib!Reader, but what about a Neglected!Friend!Reader? Fun idea. Tim already knowing everything about you only to find you’ve changed and wants to study you all over again. Only this time he’s keeping you! (I’m very fond of Tim. I think he’s difficult to write for me, but I enjoy the little stalker so much.)

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Romantic themes, Tim can be read as kinda platonic, GN!Reader

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You and Tim were once good friends. Well, he was your best friend. To him you were just a good one. High school buddies that would hang out all the time. At school only. And sometimes the rare gala you saw him at. It was rare you ever actually went to The Manor. You never asked to go. But, you had hoped to be invite.

Just like you had hoped that he might reciprocate that pesky crush you had on him back then. You had felt like it was so painfully obvious. Though it wasn't as painful when you finally figured out he was Red Robin and you waited and waited for him to tell you his secret identity. And, then you would tell him you already figured it out and you would look so cool.

Only, he never did. You both grew distant. You had put so much carful effort into keeping that distance from growing. Inviting him to hang out more. Asking him out for casual coffee. He always said the same thing.

"Oh, damn. I could really go for that right now. But, I'm just sorta busy. Next time though. For sure."

Over and over. He sounded like a broken character. Repeating the same phrase. One that you would hang around after the game was over to reminisce about all the fun adventures you both once had. However this was life not a game. You couldn't just restart and rerun the same adventures.

It made you ache when you finally moved on. When you finally pulled away. Because, Tim didn't even notice you were gone. His life to change. He didn't have to restart anything. You had lost your best friend and he didn't even care. It stung. It stung more than you realizing he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

But, like all things, time moves on and so do you. Leaving the past behind and starting a new game. One that you start to flourish in. Making new friends. Meeting new people. Building closer bonds and more healthy friendships. It had been interesting to realize how dependent you had been on Tim once upon a time. And, embarrassing. You can't help looking back on it with a wince. You almost want to reach out and apologize. But, that would be weird and you both live completely separate lives now. You hardly ever see him at galas now. Mostly because you don't go anymore.

Things, do change. You never expected your new partner would draw Tim's attention back to you. And, in such a terrible way.

You had a rough idea of what you were getting into when Aiden Cobblepot had asked you out to dinner. You figured he was only interested in you for your money or your half-decent looks or your family name and position. You had heard all the rumors about him, but still you went. Mostly, because you knew how dangerous he and his family were. And, you were… presently surprised.

He was a bit of an entitled asshole. But, he wasn't scared of getting dirty. You watched him lead you through the puddles of rain water and Gotham grim in the posh restaurant. He held more concern for you're clothing getting dirty than his, which were more expensive than yours. He paid for the date without flinching at the price. Encouraged you to try his own food from his plate. Talked about fond memories of the things he and his sister got up to as children while asking you about your own childhood.

Admittedly, you were easily seduced because after that the two of you became an item. You didn't even realize how official you were until he introduced you to his sister, Addison, and she was actually nice to you. Extremely nice. She did, however, threaten to kill you if you betrayed Aiden in any way, which was honestly fair enough.

Aiden and you were a bit on the opposite side of things, taste wise and morally wise. But, you both made it work. He continued his life of crime, but made no mention of it around you to keep you legally clean. You shared most of your life with him, letting him have a slight glimmer into normalcy. He liked to take you on fancy dates and show you a good time. You were happy to pull him inside just to spend personal time with each other. Of course, you both made compromises. Aiden had a taste for luxury, and you didn't mind indulging in it. Especially after you beat his ass multiple times in Mario cart. It was only fair you let him take you to a gala some point.

Little did you know that that was how Tim would come clawing and digging his way back into your life.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

For Tim seeing you again was like finding an old precious treasure. His life had gotten so difficult and complicate lately that just a reminded of all those old times was nice.

However, seeing you on the arms of the Penguin's son was a brutal wake up call. What were you doing? Had you hit your head? Was he blackmailing you? Drugging you? Everyone in Gotham could recognize the name Cobblepot and how dangerous they are. And, he remembers how smart you were so you couldn't have willing chose to be there. It's not logical.

For your safety, he reintroduces himself to you. Long time, no see. We should hang out some time and catch up. Only he means it. He can't let this happen. He can't let you fall in with a man like that. You're his friend. He'll win you over for your own sake. Ruin Cobblepot while he's at it because how dare he use you.

Even if you changed. Even if you don't smell the same. If your hair is different. If you dress different. Even if your very laugh had changed pitch, he knows you. And, if anything, he can just re-learn you all over again. It won't take long. He's done it all before. This time he'll savor though. This time he won't let you go as he pulls you back in. You were a good friend, this time he'll make you more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m starting to type up Part Three of Pregant!Reader, but I ended up coming up with another start to it with more drama that would be strictly for the BatBoys. The messed up drama in it sounds fun and challenging, but I won’t do it until I finish what I started with the blurbs I have planned included.

A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part Nine is going to take a while. I have big plans for it, but Pregnant!Reader is kinda outshining it.

A/N: I will post about the LoungeSinger!Reader and another idea I came up with that y’all might like that I’ll add to the concept list.

A/N: There’s a Tony Part Two coming, but it’s only halfway typed and still not that yandere-y. Need to fix that.

A/N: My asks box is full, so I’m gonna try to empty it, but I host Thanksgiving in my family and I’m also a Christmas nut, so I’m gonna be busy. (I have four Christmas trees in my house currently… But I’m not as bad as my in-laws! They had their trees up BEFORE Halloween.)